One Needle and Two Leaves

6/12-6/19

After a very long goodbye to everyone at the Children's home, I caught an overnight bus to Phikkal/Fikkal in Illam. After a sleepless night filled with heaps of police check points, an amusing money collector and dust storms, I was so happy to finally hop off the bus at 6 am. On the three kilometer walk to Aarubote village with my host, Dipak Kulung, I learned a new phrase: "moor kyo" to say to everyone that asked about my cast. It was a good start filled with laughs the whole dirt, rocks and mud road to his farm. His workaway profile, managed by his friend, as there is no internet in his village, is here. His family are from the indigenous group Rai, who still worshipped the land. They practiced Hinduism but embraced Buddhism so everything goes. As I still wore a cast, my time here became more of a farm or homestay rather than volunteering. I was grateful to still have been able to pick tea and learn about the process (though I've gotten conflicting explainations since arriving in Darjeeling). It is best to pick one needle and two leaves but often times extra leaves are plucked to maintain an even height of the all stems growing from the shrub. The sizes of the leaves depend on the variety of the species Camellia sinensis. The plants are generally plucked weekly from the end of March to the beginning of November, unless there's heavy rain. These plants did not need the amount of shade due to the generally cool climate of the hilly Illam region. The workers on his farm were paid ten rupees per kilogram plucked with an average of 24 kg a day. Unlike Bangladesh and India, men and women were allowed to partake in the task. The types of tea differ in the way they are processed, from differing times of drying to oxidation.

One bud and two leaves waiting to be plucked.

Illam, Queen of the Hills.

Plucking in the rain, just plucking in the rain, what a glorious feeling of snap, snap snap snap snap, snap snap.

My stay included visits to numerous houses, countless cups of tea and lots of patience that I did not always have. To everyone, I looked Nepali but also Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Filipino, Mongolian, Tibetian, Thai...I tell you, I'm not sure how one person can be of so many different nationalities at once. Even his son who spoke better English than most others in the village, who I had explained my background to a couple times, baffled me at dinner by saying "you're not really American, you're Chinese." Perhaps this attests to the poor quality of education and isolation caused by the government I read about in "Unleashing Nepal". Sometimes, acutally a lot times for me, when you are in another country, your own faults are heightened as you expect one standard and are greeted with another. Impatience and shortness of temper are among the shortcomings that I must work on. I was also in disbelief at the lack of medical facilities when I went into town on the 16th to remove my cast. The grandfather, son and I walked from one clinic to another, all of which made you wait and then informed you that they lacked the tool to remove my particular type of cast. At the hospital, they ended up removing it with a pair of scissors and a razor blade.

Everyone trying to get a hand in on the action. When the grandson picked up the scissors, I knew the craziness had to stop.

If this family had the help of the ODW Agricultural and Development Fund, they would be able convert their crops more quickly to other crops of higher value. Dipak told me about his plan to convert some of his tea to cardamon, a highly valued spice. It fetches perhaps ten times as much per kilogram than tea. However, he would have to wait until he had enough income to buy the plants. As the plant grows on well watered land, he needs to ensure the land is constantly properly watered. Keep in mind, the villagers do not have any pumps so they have to manually adjust the pipes they built to reroute the water they need to their land. The prosperity of their land determines their family's entire well-being. Having land in their case as well ensures that his child is able to attend a private school, as the public schools are notoriously lacking in content and efficiency. The children of the workers on his land do not have the economic ability to send their children to private school. This greatly increases their chance of being stuck in the cycle of poverty. They could also set up a hydro power plant with the fund. This would allow the village to have power at night when kids need it to finish homework. Heck, you could use the toilet without the use of a flashlight if there was power! Being with this family in this village made me realize more clearly why I chose this fund. Greater economic growth and stability means not only these villagers can provide for their family but eventually pull out of the cycle of poverty through means like education.

The family from left to right, Dipak Kulung, Seon-yuk, a-pa, me and a-ma.

In a country with lots of potential development, they are severely barred by old government policies and a current one that can't get their act together. One thing they still hold on to is a hope for a better future, one that many of the youth have already gone elsewhere to find. For such a wonderful country, I also hope they find a leader who will put aside their own power gains and do what is best for their people.

Hello Brother, Hello Sister

5/29-6/11

These two weeks were spent at the Hamro Sunaulo Jeevan Children's Home after an excursion to the hospital. It was no surprise that Ralph and I were joking about bringing in a team of Western medical interns to identify all of the hygienic faults in the minor operating room. After all of the annoying separate prepayments, we compared the overall cost to our respective countries. In the states, it most definitely would have cost me ten times more. In Canada, it would have cost less than Nepal as health care is free, but it would have cost ten times the time. The public hospitals apparently have a notorious wait line unless you are in critical condition. I couldn't see my hairline fracture but I'll take that over a broken bone any day. After fitting a cast made of fiberglass, we were off to meet our anxious host in Dallu Awas, near the Swayambhunath. Here are some pics of our days spent:

"Bhat kan-ne?" Dinner: rice (bhat), lentils (dal), and thalkari (vegetables).

Ready for school.

Playtime: as you can see, sharing is not in any kid's vocabulary.

Presents: new books and toys from Ralph.

A day in the park--took them a while to get over the shock of walking in the city.

First time drinking cold water...not only drinking :P.

First time eating cake. The host's birthday was one day before mine.



On a day off, we headed to Boudhanath.





My special birthday dinner: fried paneer in tomato sauce and chapati.



First time in an amusement park: Anil, the smallest and youngest, was near tears in the beginning as he stood in the back. We finally got him to go down by getting Kapil, the one with the black top on, to encourage him to go with him.

Shreeman helping Karan tie his new shoes.

First time watching a movie for all of them: Fast and Furious VI. I swear they are all over 16 :D. It was also their first time in a room with AC so they were all cold.

Raphael playing the stone carver at a local game: Tiger Moving Game.

It's only when you are about to leave, you realize all that still remains to be done. Afterall, we could spend a lifetime learning and still know nothing relative to what's still left to learn. I will definitely sorely miss all of these people.

The Womp Womp

The bus ride back to Kathmandu passed with ease as I was out most of the time. I woke up to a funny bus driver trying to feed me his dal bhat with his hands at the rest stop. When I got to Kathmandu, I ended up taking the city bus twice to get into Thamel. The first ride, the boy collecting the money on the bus spoke Nepali to me at my stop. Not knowing what he was saying, I just shook my head and held my hands up. After asking some locals on the bus again, I was instructed to get on a different micro-bus to take the same trip again to Ratna Park. Luckily, a local walked with me the rest of the way into Thamel. After dropping my things off, getting offered another job, I met up with Raphael from Chitwan to discuss a Children's Home he mentioned. Since I was going to visit an orphanage anyways, I figured I would do it this time with a friend. When we met up in a bar/cafe, he introduced me to two other well-traveled gentlemen from the French part of Switzerland, Chris and Phillip. The whomp whomp happened right after exiting the second storey building. In Kathmandu, the road is built with these ditches on the side, shaped like an inverted aqueduct, that act as a storm drain. Taking the left out of the stairs to our next destination, my foot landed half on the road and half in the ditch. It rolled lets say a fair 90 degrees too much. Ralph was hoping it was one of those pins and needles feeling that would drift away after a while but I knew it wouldn't be the case. After immediately icing it, we proceeded to our dinner destination where I hobbled around on one foot. One staff member was exceptionally funny, thinking he could help identify my problem by prodding my ankle with a chopstick. After icing it on and off all night, the swelling dissipated considerably but Philip recommended an X-ray the next day and gave me some inflammation pills. Epic fail! Really glad to have been in these guys' company.

The night before, propping it on a pillow.

Chitwan Workaway

5/22-5/27
As usual, yo can't get anywhere without an adventure attached. My bus ride to Chitwan involved locals getting a little too comfortable. The first passenger beside me was a little girl eager to share all of her food with me. Though she did not speak much English, she still tried and would point out the window in awe at the passing scenery. As the hours passed, she and I both drifted to sleep with her cautiously using my shoulder as a pillow, as though unsure if it was acceptable. I did not mind until she left the bus and the next woman that sat next to me found it okay to follow suit. She appeared to be an exhausted mother, breastfeeding her newborn that was held by her mom the majority of the trip. The mother had dark circles under her eyes and appeared desperate to get every wink of sleep she could. She flat out laid on my shoulder and consumed more and more space on the seat. Now she was sweating profusely and even asked for a barf bag, which she did use. I drifted as far from the middle and back of the seat as possible to avoid her touch and count the minutes before we would finally arrive. About 15 minutes outside of the city (about a four hour bus ride), the bus pulled to the side for a mass forest potty break. In the city, I caught a quick lunch of vegetable mo mo's and curd, or yogurt, for about 95 cents.

How to properly transport a goat.

Outside of the city, everything already begins to reveal their local price. On the bus to the Eco-farm, I met the father of Bishnu, the manager. He didn't speak English but motioned for me to get off of the bus with him. The first volunteer I met was Fred from Belgium, who I had met at my hostel in Pokhara. Small world, seriously. The night was filled with the first of many dal bhats, insects bites and hot, frequently powerless nights. One good and two bad's: I'm not liking my odds already.

The Eco-farm house.

The Eco-farm.

The Eco-farm community area.

My first farm task was weeding banana plants. The two French-Canadian volunteers, Ralph and

Aurélie, and one Lithuanian, Nora, and I had a late start and easy day because of the rain. Late in the day we took a trip to the Hindu temple. Bishnu said we were going to help pick up trash but instead we watched and participated in singing/chanting and dancing.

The singing and later dancing inside with us observing in the back.

We also had a chance to explore around, where I got in trouble for helping the women make roti. Since they follow the caste system here, I'm guessing my participation would defile the food and was disapproved by the men. So the women hushed me away politely and signaled for me to go and take more pictures.

The women making roti.

Back on the farm, we dug some holes for Lilac trees and called it a day. Since there was no power, we had to take spout showers with our torches and sleep without a fan. Sometimes, everything just seems like a struggle. You can't take anything for granted here.

The spout shower and toilet.

The next morning, after the usual sweetened lemongrass tea and biscuits, we dug holes for bamboo trees, that we planted in the afternoon, tied bamboo sticks for bean vines to wrap around, and did more weeding. I don't know what I want to do yet, but I know for sure, it's not farming; bloody hard back-breaking work. Thanks to farmers worldwide for growing our food! During the hotter hours of the day, we played more "s***head", which is like "knock, knock" but with more rules. Life seems simple, yet hard, and very hot. Talked to Lucky, Bishnu's relative, about their country selling power to India. It's a fact and due to politics, they apparently buy it back from India as well. Makes no sense but neither does Nepal's political system.

L to R: Ralph and Lucky pumping water for washing the dishes.

I decided to try sleeping outside in this bamboo hut since there was no power again. Worst idea and sleepless night ever filled with rain and mosquitoes at every corner of my net. Just past 3 am, I moved into the outside shelter to finally get some rest before 7 am morning tea.

Thank goodness today was a day off! I totally forgot or else I would have slept more. It's Buddha's birthday today so we (now with two new volunteers from France, Audrey and Anton) ventured to the temple for more singing, dancing, culture sharing and food. Many of the girls were dressed in beautiful traditional dresses with trinkets braided into their hair.

Girls in the traditional dressage.

The boys were getting lectured for abandoning the traditional dress for Korean styles lol. After an interesting mix of sweet milk porridge with curry, Bishnu went around dragging the volunteers into the open to dance. I have to say there were some kids that danced us to shame. Needless to say, no one was going to pry me from my chair after that.

The kiddies that would dance us to shame.

Later in the day, the original four of us went on an elephant jungle ride, where Bishnu and Ralph had a near death experience riding on top of the bus. Beware of low hanging wires and pot-holed ridden roads! As we waited for the elephant to make its grand entrance (which it never did), we went for a dip in the river to cool off. Since the water was shallow, it did not produce much of a cooling effect. I have to say, it's the first time I stepped into a warm natural body of water. Due to usual poor Nepali planning, we took motorbike rides to meet our elephant. After the first five minutes of excitement from seeing two rhinos, the rest was spent in silence.

Our elephant.

I would say they look uninterested :D.

I love seeing elephants but I done riding on them. Tonight was another sleeping venture: the roof, which was also not a wise choice. It began raining so I had to retreat to my powerless, fan-less room anyway. The temperature had to have been in the 90's F.

Imagine living somewhere, where the nearest ATM is about two hours away. Yep, I had to go to Chitwan for this reason. Of course, this meant getting some chocolate and lychees for Nora and the two Frenchies (the two Canadians took off for Kathmandu early this morning) while I was errand running. I have to say I am glad I went to the small village and missed the craziness of the city for a little while. Back on the farm in the afternoon, Bishnu traded some grass on his land for compost (chicken manure and bran/hull of rice) from his neighbor. We poured it on one section of the land and tilled it for the next day. Hot, blistering work!

My last day on the farm, I wanted to make the most of it. The morning began with vegetable planting (couldn't tell you what it was as Bishnu didn't know the English equivalent word). In the afternoon, Audrey taught me some basic Adobe so that I could create a panorama from my Annapurna Base Camp pictures. Afterwards, I went to the primary school to check out their educational system and perhaps teach.

The kids playing tag outside.

The result was bleak. As Nora had mentioned, from trying it the day before, the teachers just throw you in a class and allow you to instruct as you please. However, you don't know the children's level and often times they aren't properly placed accordingly. I was also surprised to find the students inattentive, unnecessarily loud, blatantly eating, toilet magnets and incomprehensive to the words sputtered from their text. This is what I would expect back home, no offense, but not here. See, we aren't so different. Children will be children. So the majority of the first class was spent singing songs. The second class, though of a younger age group, had a better grasp of their text and was more productive. Until they asked me to write in Korean...and then it turned into a Korean translation session. I have to say their excitement and volume was comparable to fan girls seeing their idols face to face: deafening. Great experience seeing sustainable practices put into effect and people passionate to keep it going. Check out their Workaway profile here.

Can't forget to mention Bishnu's affable mother. She'll chat with you in Nepali as though it were your mother  tongue. Like any Asian culture, she constantly asked if you'd eaten.