astam, nepal

kancha coming at you---

Apparently that's my Nepali name. It is actually a common name meaning "small brother." Everyone here refers to each other as Dai (older brother) Bai (younger brother), Didi (older sister) and Bahini (younger sister), but because you can have several Dai's Bai's etc. Kancha gets at least a little more specific (referring to size). It was given to me by the Austrian couple's trekking guide somewhere between Machhapuchare base camp and Annapurna base camp. but i digress.

So, while on one hand I was sad to miss Halloween and all the kids who will succumb to wearing ridiculous clothes as long as they get candy (Seinfeld), I was able to celebrate the fall harvest festival not just Nepali style (mind you they don't actually celebrate it here), but with its semi-original intent (I think, correct me if I'm wrong though). I harvested.

This took place in the village of Astam where the Indian's (dot not the feather) trekking guide that I met on my trek lived. It involved a half hour bus ride out of Pokhara, and an hour hike, nearly straight uphill it seemed. Since he wasn't with me, and I just knew his village name, once I got to the village I just started asking everyone for "Shiva, tulo kapal (long hair), trekking guide" and eventually found his family's abode. His house and village sit atop a Himal with incredible views. The first day we just chilled, and day two involved gathering all their cut hay in their field, packing it up with rope made on the spot from the hay, and then carrying it down from their field to their house. I really enjoyed the work and helping out, and actually living the reality of their life if only for a couple of days. Here's the good/bad of the situation-

Recently I became a little disenchanted about living in the city of Pokhara. I mean, just for your personal perspective Kathmandu is Denver, and Pokhara is Boulder. Kat- Dallas, Pok- Austin. Comprende? So Pokhara being slower and more laid back is muy bueno for me, but after a conversation with a Polish and a German gal who work for the UN I started seeing a different shade of green in the grass. Their work consisted of living in a rural village and communicating what the UN wanted to communicate to the people of Nepal. Namely regarding the politics of Nepal, and to then encourage their action, that being voting. After this conversation and hearing about their daily life I was like, "I came to a third world country, but I still live where internet and taxis are still accessible. I wonder what it's like out there." Well I found it.

There's no cars, some people may not have even seen them before, although most have. Everything is transported by foot (ps- apparently 70% of goods are transported by foot in Nepal [porters]), and it's the life a farmer. Their house is one room essentially, with the loft used for storage. The father, mother, son, daughter, daughter's daughter, another son's daughter and son all sleep in the same room/ house. They cook food over a single wood fire. But, no Shiner, so it's not a proper barbeque. They grow their own rice, have their own buffaloes, chickens, etc. Everyone is nearly related. Almost no one has income. Where there is income, the average pay is probably $5 a day. It's all asset based. You feed yourself, maybe trade; there is some currency flowing through, but not much. The people are happy, everyone obviously knows everyone (since they're related), and you just do things as you can and as they come. There's no rush, but if you don't work it's very obvious you don't eat. Children are labor. Kancha II carried his first packaged bundle of hay on his head as all Nepalis do. He's probably 8. Everyone was helping with the harvest, young to old.

Here's the rub. I saw them getting along fine, I mean, poor, but fine. I enjoyed staying with them. People is people to me. We all smile and we all cry. But, like many Nepalis they see me as opportunity. The list of things requested from me in this 2 days is endless: money to paint their house, money to finish building their toilet (outhouse), to somehow get Shiva a visa and plane trip to America(!) (they're all convinced that life is a beach party there), to take the 8 year-old to America with me, or at least to Pokhara(!), new school bags, to teach in their local school, to stay longer to as an extra working hand, and I kid you not, there was even insinuation to take their 25-year-old widowed daughter's hand in marriage (with a 3-year-old daughter as part of the package deal). I don't know, she was beautiful... and I have contemplated living a simple farming life...

This is not a request, nor a statement towards my new found direction in life (for those that can't discern my sarcasm via written word). This is just information. All of these things were mentioned at least more than twice. Of course each time it made me feel a little awkward, and I have been in Nepal long enough to see it coming, but not this strong. The reason I tell you is just to tell you of the condition. I'm quite sure this is quite a typical Nepali family. It's funny how I wanted to see it, but part of the 2-day experience was frustration of being asked for so much. At the very end, when the proposals were strong, all I could say was "I really do have to go, I genuninely don't have the means to help you, I wish I did," and leave. Several times when I was staying with them I would hear them ask in Nepali to the guide, Shiva, "Is he going to give us money?" 'I'm a simple guy, and I want to hang out with you, but this really makes it hard for me-' is what I would have liked to say. Throw a huge language barrier into the picture (Shiva's English is far below par, and I've only been here like 6 weeks), and getting a whole idea across was quite difficult. That being- "I can't help you renovate your whole house and revolutionize your community and bring stability and additional workforce to your family by marrying your daughter, but if Shiva is able to scrape up about $3000US(!) to come to America I will make him feel as at home as you have made me feel." Somehow I wasn't able to say that in Nepali.

I'm going to be honest. I was a bit bemused walking away. I mean, the children were clinging to me. Not out of love, but out of opportunity. The more I walked away the stronger and smaller the requests became. Finally I gave in when the daughter I'm supposed to marry (dad- I think maybe we can get a couple buffalo and maybe a goat or two out of the deal) asked for 20 rupees (about 35cents) for biscuits for her child. Walking back down the mountain I had to stop several times just to be like, "is this selfish? should i go back and pour out my wallet to them?" And, just resorted to getting back to my room in Pokhara to try and sort out my heart and mind. If any of you ever figure this dilemma in life out, shoot me a text to tell me what's up.

More honesty- part of the dilemma is that I didn't see it as bad. It's life. They're not starving, and they're government's not perfect but it's not oppressive. It's just very much not able to help anyone. You sow your seeds, you reap them, you eat. Sure we've complicated things with our intricate social infrastructure in America, and I'm not growing my own corn, but is it really any different? I mean, we're all just trying to live, we're all struggling. We all spend money on frivolity (they had a tv and dvd player- 2 things I don't own). The first day I told Shiva that people where I come from would pay a lot of money to live where he lived and be that removed from distraction. I mean, there are some people that even have to live in Houston. About 3 million I think. These Nepalis are very in tune with the earth's cycles and respond accordingly, I think that's beautiful and that we've lost a lot of that in our concrete jungles. They are very well alive, and moreso, have all of their friends and family around them. But, my friends, I guess they're not content. And at the end of the day, I don't care who you are, or where you were born, or what you do, that's what you need.

There's always more that I will desire I'm sure. For now, if anyone's looking to get rid of a set of tele gear or a Jeep, I think I can help you out. But, that's not reality right now. Now, let's be more honest, tele gear isn't exactly indoor plumbing, but I guess my simple point is that there's always more, I don't care who you are. I'm not flashy with my money- I haven't even worn my steezy Nixon watch once in Nepal (partly because Tony Hawk's voice chiming for the hour drains the battery in about a one-week-flash), and I just about can't afford all the batteries required. My camera is the most valuable things I may be seen with, and that's rare that I'll bring it into the open. But I'm a tourist, and tourists mean money. Yes, my budget here is right around what the average person makes a day, but that's that. I still take the bus and not taxis, and drink tea and not fruity expensive drinks. One thing I tell so many Nepali people that actually lend an ear is that, "you think America perfect. America have many problems. Nepal have many problems. Same. Same. People struggle for food in America, I promise." While I know that life is seemingly easier in America, all I want people everywhere to see is that we're all people. We all struggle, we all claim victory, we all have the capacity to love or to hate, to help or to hurt, and one of the most beautiful gifts we have is the gift of choice based on those aforementioned. And it is our choices based on the cards we are dealt that makes life what it is. Yes, I may have access to health insurance, but does that really make the days I own more fulfilling?

I need to stop ranting. All this word vomit just means I haven't figured it out in case you didn't already realize that. All this from 2 days in one of the most beautiful places I have ever woken up to, confronted by one of the most difficult situations I have ever woken up to. But guess what? That's life.