It’s been about three weeks since I landed in Nepal, finding myself mostly at a Homestay where I am teaching yoga to the volunteers and visitors that come through here.
While I really have been wanting to post in my blog about the experience, I’ve been having a hard time... there is so much all at once, it is such a new and different culture to have landed into, and every time I begin.. it just doesn’t seem to go anywhere. It’s like there is so much material, constant stimulation and learning of some kind or another, and I am not sure how to put it all into words. Here is my first attempt, so that my future posts may go into some more of the nuances as I am ready to focus on them.
Incoming view on the plane. I’m pretty sure the hills in the foreground emerging from the clouds are pretty close to where I am staying.
I actually teared up in awe on the plane when I first saw the Himalayan range - uncontrollably enough that I had to place my shirt over my eyes. It is so beautiful, majestic, and heart-stopping. My window seat was on the left side. I’d been looking out and seeing only lowlands and haze. As we were drawing nearer I wondered why I didn’t see any mountains yet. And then I looked out the opposite window and - bam - big ass mountains. I was seated on the wrong side. But the plane took a wide turn and in front and out my window was a view of the incredible range.
Comforts and discomforts as i Find My Place
Even though travel is rewarding, and overall my experience has been incredible and positive, my first days definitely took some adjustment. I’m just sharing this because so many people can think of travel as a complete blissful experience, but there are hardships and uncomfortable things to overcome as well. The challenge and places of discomfort is where we can grow… I always try to ask myself what is the root of my discomfort, where is it coming from, is it really necessary, and see how I can learn from there. Sometimes I discover something about myself… a place where i can let go of ego, or maybe where a past trauma is surfacing. Other times I can look at the bigger picture, and see that what I am feeling is really not significant or something to worry about in the long run. A lot of times things change as I examine them, either through my perspective evolving, or through actual evolution of a situation.
The family I’m staying with is very sweet and accommodating and I have immense gratitude for their openness, their kindness, and their generosity, but cultural and language differences made it hard to feel comfortable from the start. One of the strangest things to me is that people don’t all really eat together. Guests eat first, and then the family. Sometimes that means I eat alone. I heard from a friend in the city that in some traditional places people from different castes (the caste system exists here too) don’t even eat together. Coming from a place like the farm where I have lived the last few winters, where so many good times are shared over meals, this took some getting used to. Many times there are other visitors here so I eat with them. At first it felt really awkward, especially since we often eat in the main house. But it comes out of a place of respect, there is even a Nepali saying, “Guests are our god.” As I become more connected here, it has become less formal, and I’ve also become more accustomed to how this goes.
Typical view of the village… heavily terraced mountain hillsides, right now covered with blooming mustard flowers.
There is only a certain level of interest in English conversation with me - a lot of times I’m sitting there completely in the dark as to what is going on around me. Since I was pretty fluent in Spanish while I traveled in Latin America, and could join in any conversation, this feels so foreign and can be alienating. While I’m trying to learn a bit of vocabulary, it will be impossible, especially without dedicated language classes which are not available in this tiny town, to progress much with a language that is so different. I guess I expected more intentional interaction and cultural exchange, but I suppose the family has enough people that come through that it would be exhausting for them to make an effort like that with each person. As my stay extends, the connections are beginning to form in bits and pieces, communication is increasing in general, and consequently I’m also feeling more comfortable as the invited outsider. In general I’m more of a quiet and observational person, especially as a traveler, and so I start to notice subtle things on a daily basis - things that both solve questions I’ve had as well as create new ones.
The cold added another layer of discomfort which drove me into my room with the space heater on more often than I would have liked. Since we are at 7,000 feet even when a cloud would obscure the sun during the day, or a slight wind would pick up, it would change from feeling nice to nearly frigid in a manner of moments. The blankets would keep me warm enough in bed but there is literally no insulation in the house and there are even openings in the building to the outside where the wood isn’t planed. The wiring wasn’t enough the support all of the heaters when the Homestay was full for a couple nights and it melted out and Kamal (the owner) had to rewire the whole house! Which he did, with a thicker gage wire, quickly and competently. The last week it has warmed up and the days are perfect and the nights cool but no longer frigid and my comfort level has increased dramatically.
A 180 degree view of the Himalayan Range is visible from the top of Mount Mahabharat on a clear day.
Aside from the initial adjustments, the last few weeks have actually brought quite a bit of variety: two attempts (one successful!) to climb the nearby peak for sunrise, several volunteers from many countries (USA, Canada, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, UK, and Nepal) and the opportunity to teach yoga and meditation, a whirlwind trip to Kathmandu, rides on the backs of motos, witnessing a Brahmin Vedic ceremony, interactions with the people of the surrounding village, many walks and explorations in which my feet take me to different destinations nearby, and deepening my own yoga and meditation practice.
As I quietly observe the daily life here there is so much opportunity for reflection about ... just life! People of all ages and genders work the fields doing backbreaking work; the fields are designed in efficient and beautiful raised rows that allows for ease of harvesting as well as flooding of the pathways in order to water the deeper roots of the crops. Men, women, and children alike carry huge bundles of freshly cut branches, larger than they are, on their backs, up and down steep hillsides, to bring to feed their cows and buffalo. These are chopped up in these chopper things that you can hear resounding across the mountain. The animals are everywhere: cows “OM” during my yoga classes, goats followed us from the forest back into the village one day, and cluster in front of people’s homes.
Our host Goma as some of the other guests help to shred the biggest radishes I’ve ever seen to dry and preserve them.
Food is so central to culture and life; it is amazing all the processes that happen and energy that is put in to produce, preserve, and prepare it. For days I helped to sort out dried beans - pulling out broken or insect eaten beans... corn is dried on the cob, then shucked, then dried again, then ground into cornflour. The largest radishes I’ve ever seen (and sweetest I’ve ever tasted) are cleaned, and then grated, dried on the rooftops, and then stored for later use. Mustard and other green leaves are also sorted, pounded, and dried to save for year-round use. And the preparation of food seems nearly constant in order to feed the family themselves (of 6) and however many guests, whether local friends, visitors from other parts of Nepal, or international visitors may be here.
Women do all of this work, as well as all of the other housework - cleaning, washing the dishes, laundry (by hand of course), everything to do with raising the children, and even refinishing the earthen floors with a new clean layer of mud every couple of weeks. Women are mostly married by the time they are 18 years old and children soon after; arranged marriages are not uncommon and the girls leave their homes to come and live with their husband’s family. Women also have many certain rules when they are having their periods and cannot touch things in the kitchen as well as many other things I’m not sure of yet. They also are not part of certain ceremonies - when the Brahmin ceremony happened no women were allowed to enter the circle; the prepared all of the food for everyone and made sure everything was attended to. They are such a strong backbone, and do all of this with grace and a selflessness and do not seem to question it. They are all so surprised that I am unmarried and without kids. And I can’t imagine life without the freedoms I’ve been raised with to explore the world and my interests as I’ve been gifted to experience.
There is so much more, but this is enough for now.