29_Expansion

-A girl with whom I lived: People usually ask me about the tourist living in my house [laugh]

-Me: Don’t you dare to call me a tourist!

-She: True, I will tell them you are not a tourist, you are my sister. Ok? [smile].

My second fieldwork was so much about becoming a local.

I did not have problems of separating the worlds or understanding my identity in-between anymore. With some dose of curiosity and flexibility it is not hard to survive in a totally new social, geographical, political and physical setting. For me my whole first fieldwork (7 months in Nepal among which 4 months in the villages) was taken with a large dose of exotic excitement followed by deep philosophical establishment of myself.

On my second fieldwork this process was already over. I faced a new reality, reality of living there. Not just visiting, exploring, investigating, but simply living the way they do.

I expanded.

Part I A crazy local

They pointed to the landslide-like long vertical path down to the river saying: “Look at this, sister! This path is to die! You cannot go this way.”

And that’s true, there was a recent story of a guy who died falling into the river, because after roads were built all the paths down became very hard to walk.

I just asked them not to laugh at my descend with all fours.

Cutting barley

When we reached the field girls were screaming saying that I will cut my hands, getting worried that no one can treat me after that. They were just standing unwilling to show me the proper technique. Then I just grabbed a sickle and started working.

Cutting millet

They immediately screamed saying that I have cut myself [I didn’t]. I started. They were telling me that my arms will hurt and I just answered that they are humans and I am the same human, if they can I should also be able to. 

Separating seeds

I was working in barley fields, in millet fields, in potato fields and doing many other women or men jobs not just for few minutes for fun, but for several hours.

They were amazed, but so was I. My field work was really about work in the field J

Part II Expanding

Bedroom

With the exception of my trekking boots I was slowly giving up all my old habits. Bit by bit. My comfort zone was breaking/disappearing (or just expanding?) with the acceptance of new rules. During my previous fieldwork it seemed impossible not to have a bucket of water of any warmth for washing body after an exhausting walk. Now I was washing myself and changing my clothes only on Saturdays. Cannot say that was easy as the soap was often frozen and rubbing it against the clothes not always gave expected results. [I shouldn’t exaggerate though, days were always very sunny and even hot to walk in all my morning layers of clothes! And I bet Danes would die from jealousy knowing how much sun and tan i got daily]. But still, since most of the self-caring things were done in early morning I used to wash small things at the temperature of frost.
It didn’t feel hard not to have electricity. In fact, lack of it usually unites people around the fire and makes people so united with natural cycle of day and night.
It was rather disturbing to change houses and to pack bags too often (that’s why more clothes would be a luxury to carry!).

At some point weekly shower wasn't even bothering me anymore. To be honest, neither I cared about my look. In fact, I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror and I was thinking why do people have more than one set of clothes? Although maybe two would be needed, because to be honest at some point I started wearing all my clothes due to the cold and thus that was quite troublesome when I was washing them. I needed to freeze for the whole day.

Local beauties at football match

It is not that locals were like that as I describe, girls and boys still wanted to have nice clothes and to make fancy haircuts or to listen to songs from the phone.

It was just my identity, which was rather in research, in work, in people, in everything.

Was I losing myself or expanding myself?

…

I came back to Kathmandu on 16th. Immensely happy for warm water I was washing and re-washing my hair not believing that washing it for three times could take away all the dirt. Next day I put on a designer’s jacket, bought a new scarf and even dared to put make-up.

Am I regaining myself or coming back to limitations?

Whatever it is but I will have a shower every day from now on J

28_My way back to the village: from peace to trouble to home

After 5 hours of sitting in the 4x4 jeep on the most uncomfortable seats squeezed between my things, people, a random stool and a wheel I saw my known rock (a landmark) and all my tiredness went away. I was ready to jump out from the vehicle. We are approaching MY VILLAGE!

But before that…. There was a long journey.

It has started 1,5 years ago when I dared to begin my PhD research about Far Eastern rural Nepal. It continued with my stay in 2 villages for 4-5 months (in total I was in Nepal for 7 months). Six months later I came back to return to my villages.

Even though I speak a bit of Nepali language it is not nearly as good as it should be and therefore I am going now with my assistant Anima who will help with translation and research.

I Getting peace at Bouddhanath

In general Nepal makes me super-mobile once I get out from the Tribhuvan airport. I have changed so many houses, hotels, districts and even rooms of hotels. Also this time I have decided to experience different are of Kathmandu-around Bouddhanath (previously I lived around Thamel and in different parts of Patan). Bouddhanath is the complex of Buddhist monasteries with the central stupa, which is believed to be the most important place for Buddhists in Nepal. It is located quite far from the city, but I was stubborn in my wish. And I never regretted that.

This place is truly magic, where it seems that modernity, 21^st century, money obsession and time compression has never came. Especially during Dashain period (when all Nepali are going home to villages to get blessing from elders of the family; and thus city feels empty). My hotel window faced the monastery with purely white doves. Every morning before 6 a.m. monks started chanting and this chanting mood would not stop during the day. Everywhere I went it seemed that people are only concerned about their own spirituality than anything else and therefore in shops and restaurants people always had malas in their hands and did not bother about me as a customer. No bargaining or offers for me to buy things I do not need, so typical for other parts of Kathmandu. Most of the women were wearing their traditional dresses and whenever I went outside my hotel I entered a stream of monks and others walking around stupa in clockwise direction. I could spend hours observing that. The air was full of religiously spirituality or “Love-Peace-Happiness” as Buddhists usually say. In fact, despite that so many things did not work, I could not be upset for a long time, it was simply impossible there. That was Kathmandu I did not know before. I experienced only loud, polluted, crazy place where I was afraid to be a pedestrian and a bicycle rider, because of the unorganized dangerous traffic, out of which my head was ready to blow out. Here it was peace.

Here just like in Himalayas I became different, Nepali version of me: easy going, friendly, opened, making friends and feelings lives of everyone I meet.

II A long and troublesome journey

I thought I got this peace forever, but I was mistaken, peace did not belong to me, it belonged to the place. Thus, when I packed my all belonging and ordered a taxi to the domestic airport I already could not accept the taxi driver to be 30 minutes late before my flight (when the journey itself is maximum 20 minutes). That’s good that I calculated time well in advance!

We landed in Jhapa, which resembled at that time Africa-so hot! In general our journey was supposed to be long: from Jhapa to Ilam, where we thought to stay for a day, later to go directly to Falaichha or to have two buses in one day, as I used to do before. But this time absolutely nothing worked after I reached Ilam.

Usually I adore Ilam. It is a small peaceful city in hills with smiling people and huge plantations of tea bushes. There is this special atmosphere of people plucking tea leaves and people having long walks on paths in tea gardens. There are very few places in Nepal, which would fulfil so well a function of social gathering and relaxation for all generations and backgrounds.

This time all went wrong. Already on the way together with Anima we could barely survive famous 12 turns before the city and our stomachs were ready to explode. Once we approached Ilam we could not find a sleeping place for a long time due to festivals and those available were worse of each other. Finally I made my wrong decision towards a hotel with giggling teenage boys and a dirty bathroom. I thought I can cope with everything: mice in hotels and houses do not bother me if I secure my food, I sweep of cockroaches from tables and take out hairs, stones, hash and insects from food easily. To spiders I even do not give any attention at all.

But this!!!

When I opened my bathroom kit in the evening in the bathroom I saw that awful creature moving its longs nose around. That was the first time I screamed seeing something usually people are afraid of. But this thing was sooo huge! I ran out from the bathroom scared to see it again. Luckily I had a strong insecticide spray and I attacked all those creatures in the bathroom not caring that I poison myself for a night sleep as well. That made them run, which was even worse.

That night I could sleep only with mosquito net over my face, and yes, I slept in my sleeping bag in the hotel. Also because they did not have bed sheets and I did not believe that they washed duvets more than once in 6 months.

Getting a ticket to our further destination was also an enormous task. Since elections for Constituent Assembly are approaching and that is a very decisive moment in development of Nepal, everyone was very excited about that. That also meant that they did not want to bother about doing their jobs and selling tickets. Thus we were redirected from one place to another and at last we needed to walk for 2 km up the hill to find out that the ticket counter guys just wanted to get rid of us.

!!!

But at last we got a ticket at least to Phidim for the next day (which is located 3 hours distance). Our jeep was at 5-6 o’clock (the time is always given like this, meaning you need to be there at 5, but they might move are 7 or 8. Or 5. Depends on the mood). In the evening I made sure that in my hotel they knew that I have an early time for bus and they open the door for me on time.

They didn’t.

At 5 a.m. sharp I was screaming and hitting my metal door, which was locked straight at the beginning of stairs leading to rooms. Not even hotel entrance door, people were locked on their floors. I waited for 45 minutes. Within this time I was screaming, I was running to balconies shouting at walking people for help, and above all-I was hitting metal door with all my strength for many minutes. No reaction. In fact, you can get a heart attack in your hotel between 10 and 6 and you will be isolated from help.

In this period Anima was sitting on the stone close to my hotel door. For one hour in cold.

Of course, we missed our bus.

Eeeeeeh, with the second transport we managed to reach Phidim at last, but we could not move further, because due to elections people of parties booked most of the vehicles and therefore only few of them were operating. We needed to wait for one more day. And even for that next day we managed to get the worst possible seats and the only calming thought was that we are both slim and Anima is especially a very petit lady, which meant we can manage. We were still pressing each other, hitting out buts and sides on metal on the bumpy road, but I don’t want to imagine sitting next to an average man.

But then it was there-Falaichha and end of our sufferings.

III Finally

When first houses appeared on my way I could see known faces, people were happy to see me and asked to come to their houses and when we rolled out of our jeep I was back at home. I knew almost everyone and I was surprised with new shops on the road. I saw 6-month old baby, whose mother I saw pregnant on last month just when I left the village. I met people, who were previously absent, but they heard about me. I went to my favourite house and they gave us a seat, a room and food immediately. Everyone was so happy to see me and I was so happy to see them. Everyone spoke to me Nepali. Nothing comparing to my first visit to this village, where all the important people gathered around me with suspicion asking why did I come. I was a circus animal for them and every move of mine was scrutinised and re-talked.

Now I was at home. Home among deep forests, golden crops, hills and fresh air possible only if you are at the place of mountains and no vehicles.

Breathing deeply and getting excited to go further and to see others J

27_To be where you are_preparing for the second fieldwork

Yes, I continue my blog. It is just a week left before I return to Nepal to do my second field work as a human geographer. But again this blog has nothing to do with science. However, it has a lot to do with ups and downs, failures and discoveries.

Rain. This autumn was exceptionally good for usually quiet disgustingly humid, rainy and windy Scandinavian fall. Every day has been sunny, getting colder and colder, but still has been marked by low clouds playing with different colours and tones, and by soft sunlight, which always makes faces beautiful and landscapes so warm and soft, just like grandmothers hands. Although I miss the golden autumn of Latvia. I never knew how unique and special it was. The sound of yellow, orange and red leaves under your feet.

It is raining after so many days of beautiful Danish weather. I am rushing home cycling without lights despite the darkness and screwing up my eyes to avoid the big rain drops.

And I start laughing. I suddenly feel the rain drops so vividly, each of them going through clothes and reaching my skin. Falling on the ground. It’s almost surrealistic. How much I enjoy my rush home, all the people here and there, people talking despite the rain, and coming Danish darkness and cozy winter. I enjoy it up to the point it hurts. I want to fall on the ground, to hold my breath and just be here. Right here and right now.

I wrote this phrase half a year ago when I was in the middle of my fieldwork, going up the mountain and looking down to houses of my village which already looked so small. They resembled the view I usually see from the window of the plane moving my head impatiently for landing to finish sooner. They resembled me coming back home.

At that moment, being at almost 2000 m, I wanted to scream and cry, but instead I just turned my head and talked about the upcoming wedding of a local. In this locked status I did not want my tears to come, because I knew they will not stop. I could not continue intervieweing for that day, put the music in my ears and fall into memories of my home, but instead I chose to go deep into my sadness, to the core of it. To feel every single step I make and to let the surrounding flow into me, just like I was empty and shapeless. Just to be there.

Right here and right now.

I’m just a week before going to my field again.

So much work has left to do before that and I cannot see the end of it.

During the weekend I will probably bake apple bread. 

26_Last post and new fears

Crying baby in Doha airport and tasty lounge snacks are good reasons for not to sleep and to dig in my philosophical reflections leaving Nepal and returning to Copenhagen.

I remember typing a letter to me few months ago. I was desperate and I would try to lure in the future writing questions to myself few months after. With the tears dripping on the keyboard I asked in the mail: Have you become more confident about your research? Have you managed to fulfil your dream and to go to high Himalaya? Are you sad or happy from leaving Nepal?

Of course, my stay in Nepal was absolutely unforgettable and generally speaking-amazing. Although so many times living in the village would be like long-lasting chewing gum, it would stick to my fingers and my mind, becoming totally tasteless but still impossible to get rid of. So often I would see my days in hours counting how much time is left. To be even more honest-sometimes I would simply hate my respondents.

On the other hand now, sitting in Doha airport for next 5 night hours the thing I am afraid the most is to come back to the previous me.  Trying to comprehend this double-edge experience and paradox  I will entrust my fingers to tell the truth to my mind through typing on my trustful work computer.

I am afraid …

• to stop laughing sincerely, loudly and easily
• to lose my skills of making friends with absolutely every single human and animal body met on my way; Afraid that random people will not tell me their life stories and will not invite me in facebook.
• to dive again into world affairs, crises in environment, human rights and relations between people, nations and beliefs. It was so good to be out for half a year and to read news only 3-4 times
• people soon will not tell me that my face became so fat (it supposed to be sort of a compliment in Nepal) – even though it sounds horrible for my Western girl psyche it is still better than getting bony stressful face again
• to forget my daily rhythm of waking up at dawn to see first sun beams and to be tempted by internet, friends and work to go to sleep later than 22
• to eat again lots of sweet things
• that crazy Russians will categorize me into other foreigners who after the trek get into their lonely books unlike Russians, who prefer to talk, joke and sing
• to fall again into obligations of electricity, nice furniture and many clothes – obligations to be fast, efficient, to look frequently in the mirror and, for God sake, not to spend 2 hours just for daily lunch. I am scared to get speed and to loose essence
• to see my computer screen more than trees and mountains
• to be waken up by trash collector and not the birds
• to compromise my happiness with problems of others, my things to do and failures. To care too much
• that people will start calling me normal again

In this unfinished note I am going to freeze my blog for next 4 months (the time to be spent in Europe before I go to Nepal again), hoping that my experience will stop whirling and will slowly and gently rest in my mind.

Finally, I would like to hug all of you for being with me through my adventures, sad and happy moments. I was writing all those stories driven by only one wish-to spit out my unspoken thoughts drilling me from inside for hours regardless time of the day. Sometimes I would wake up at night unable to keep this anymore. Sharing therapy was by far the most effective remedy which would still keep me balanced. Even though my public blog has been never written for public the support messages I received from you were encouraging and warm not to feel lonely. Thank you for being with me this time!

My blog will be continued after summer, but meanwhile I do not disappear for long-the blog about 3 week long trek in high Himalayas is on the way!

25_Miraculous rescue in the forest at night

The day of resettling to another village was the time when I was physically ready to give up, to lay on the ground and to let moss grow over me. Having my personal fight with the surrounding I begged for mercy, and so we got it - the miracle.

 After couple of months it was the time to change the main village. When it came to the mean of reaching the new place we had faced several contrasting options as usually. Taking a vehicle would mean spending two full days of waiting, sitting in the uncomfortable jeep for hours, walking, waiting and driving again. And so we thought we rather walk. As usual.

This time we both agreed that we want to have a porter, because we were moving out from Phalaichha, coming back only in autumn (during the season of holidays-Dasai and Tihar) and so we needed to carry all our belongings taken for several months and seasons. Giving the heaviest part to the porter who was very much behind in time we were still carrying quiet heavy backpacks, not willing to trust a porter our valuables like computers, cameras and countless cables. 

People told us different things-some said it would take us 3 hours, the porter convinced that he would reach the destination in a slow walk within 6 hours. Unfortunately we couldn't have started moving from early morning but only after lunch. We sort of partially knew the road and we hoped to reach the new house within the same day before it gets dark.

How illusionary it was.

We started our climbing up quiet enthusiastically and all the directions “up, very steep up” we took very easily, enjoying our strength. Finally we reached the house where we stayed last time three months ago; this time refusing offer to stay there again. We wanted to go as far as we could that day.

That was already 3 hours of going just steep up and we passed the last settlement. 

In front of us was just dense forest and even steeper and steeper road, made mostly from the roots of huge trees. I’ve written already about this Forest, but I will do it again-it is alive and it is magical. Trees seemed to be there since the birth of the earth, protecting their nativeness from all the random walkers. Shapes of the trees were far from normal, some really huge trees were fallen; in some others were holes just in the bottom, and all of them reminded alive personages from the fairy tale, being ready to start speaking.  I remember how I felt in this forest last time-very hard and desperate. And that’s how I felt also few months after.

My energy was suddenly out. No houses or change in the road, just 5 hours up the bad way up. Every step was harder and harder and I needed more and more often breaks. Sunil would just always say “only another 5 minutes and we reach the top”, but there were no end of the mountain. I looked at the watch- 17:20. We have another 40 minutes before it gets dark. Forest! Help us to reach the house soon! I was whispering my prayers to those invisible ones, who were trapping us deeper and deeper in the forest.

Instead of showing us houses roads were giving us more splits and every time we were more and more scared to take a decision facing the risk of getting lost in the forest at night.

I was really exhausted. Normally in every trek it’s normal to feel tired and walk over your limits. But this time it was more than that. I really could not climb up anymore. I took a rest after every step and even a sudden sound of a passing big animal didn’t scare me. I didn’t know who it was but I asked-please, come and eat me, I cannot walk anymore.

At last we entered the small open area and took a picture of a wonderful red sunset. The moon jumped on the sky very fast and soon after we were forced to turn on the lights. That meant we lost the game, with the light we could see only a step in front of us, which meant a high risk of losing the hardly visible trail in the forest and not recognizing the house. On the other hand-did we have a chance of finding a house in this dense forest? There was still no end of this mountain and even if it was-we wouldn’t see it.

-I have a lighter and a knife. We can make a fire- I said, knowing that that would not be enough. We didn’t have any clothes with us and freezing hands signalized that we are quite high and we desperately need a shelter.

Please, I cannot walk anymore. I really really can’t anymore. My legs were falling and only my broken trekking sticks were holding my exhausted body.

-Is it a roof of a house up there? -Sunil asked.

It rather looks like a shed for kettle. Even though the “mirage” of a roof was very close up the hill, it was still up though and there was no trail leading to that. The light was not reaching to understand what it is.

Aaay! We screamed. No answer. We started to walk.

Heeeeeeyyyyy! I screamed again, using all the strength of my voice. And the answer came!

Now believing in our luck we started fast climbing up through the bushes, holding to this man’s voice as a sinking man catches anything, hoping it could keep him on the surface.

That was a got (a shed) of a lonely herder, living there with his 25 cows 1-2 hours away from any other house. For me that house was a miracle. (Actually later we found out that the next "house" would be within couple of hours of reach only in direction we were not about to take)

A "got"- a house of a lonely herder

Herders usually spend in their sheds without going home at least 6 months a year. Usually they change their settlements few times, going higher every time it is getting hotter. Some of the herder would reach up to 4000 m above the sea level. They would rarely go home to see their families, but when they are low, their family members would time to time come to help or to bring some things. 

And here it was-a simple bamboo house, having inside a fire, few utensils, buffalo skin to sleep on and many blankets. 

A house inside

A very picturesque man with long mustache immediately offered us to sit here. Tears of gratitude and relief filled my eyes. As we found out from our map and his explanation-we have reached Lahasune, which meant that within not a full day we inclined 1500 meters. Even though it was still below 3000, it is still usually not wise to go so much up. No doubts I wanted to be eaten than to climb even more!

The man was Gurung (one ethnicity of Nepal) and as it usually happens with indigenous people-they are very careful at the beginning, starting to open themselves very slowly. We sat on the clay floor, feeling the coolness of the weather. The door of this house was just another carpet of bamboo and there were so many holes that having a shed would hardly make it any warmer comparing with outside. But there was a big fire and after milking the cows the man agreed to make us food. Finally we even got a blanket to sit on and the tea.

I could observe this place closer now. It was a highest level of simplicity. The man lives almost on the top of the hill just with his cows. And he has nothing in there-apart from few things for the kitchen, one backpack and blankets there is really really nothing more. Actually nothing more was needed-having a bag with a computer and other technical things seemed so silly. Why would I need them? Why would I need them at all? The eyes of the cow standing in front were so calm and peaceful and I knew that lonely herder knows the life much better than I do with my degrees and endless ways of searching for truth and self-realization.

After the food I got my “bed” arranged - a log was covered with a blanket and that was my pillow. On the clay floor was put another blanket and that was my mattress. And then I got few more blankets to cover myself. They were stinking and I couldn’t avoid thinking that they stink of a pee. But I was so happy for that. I was also happy for sleeping so close to the fire that I could burn my hand if I stretch it. I was happy for everything.

If only that wasn’t so cold. Closing the eyes with a smile didn’t work. The sleep didn’t come and slowly the cold from the earth were entering my bones making me shaking cold. I was “controlling” the fire non-stop, putting more firewood and blowing for it not to disappear. It didn’t work. Rolling from one side to another, folding myself several time to preserve heat also didn't work.

At last I woke up Sunil and asked for one extra blanket from his “pillow”, he was kind to give me even his jacket. The tiredness would finally be stronger than anything else and I would fall asleep, waking up though every half an hour from cold, signalizing that the fire is almost gone. Just like in the very past when a woman needed to keep the fire from disappearing.

Slowly the morning was coming and its warmth made my sleep stronger, being interrupted only by seeing through half closed eyes the herder who was making a real fire and starting preparing the morning tea. The body hurt from walking and sleeping on the clay floor and from the necessity to put myself in a smallest size. I looked outside still not willing to get up. A head of a beautiful cow was looking at me, but outside was white-there was snow on the earth.

After drinking several cups of tea we asked how much money we shall give to the herder for the yesterday’s food. He didn’t want to take anything. Here it is always like that – those who don’t have anything,  they just share everything they have for free. Our rescue would never be able to be evaluated with money, but we fell like at least this is the way how to express our gratitude, especially taking into account how hard it is to get rice for him to this area.

As much as we were walking up yesterday, that much we were going down next day. Going steep down is also not easy, especially after my toe nails had started breaking apart and every touch to my small toes was causing annoying strong pain. Sometimes I was even trying to walk sideways, trying to change the pressure of shoes. At that moment I've decided to buy the best pair of trekking shoes I can find in Kathmandu.

Me going sideways in order to prevent pain of toes

Actually due to this pain I was so happy when we needed to go up again! Up, up, up... And here it was-new village. Prangbung. How will it be?

24_Into the milky way

Thunder was slowly becoming weaker and weaker and finally even large drops of heavy rain stopped. It was still very pleasant to sit next to the kitchen fire and enjoy the warmth and coziness comparing to the humidity and cold outside. I haven’t written anything and I haven’t contacted anyone for a while-in this place there was no network and in some other places also no possibility to charge a computer. Honestly, I even did not want. Being remote, being not accessible, living with the sun and damn not caring about politics, world hunger and Danish taxes gave the lightness for my days and nights.

The tiredness of a day finally told me to stand up from my cross legged position and to go to sleep. It was just 21 o’clock, but here I got used to go to bed early. In the village where western entertainment options are not available my body adapted to the rhythm of nature quite fast-waking up before 6 and going to sleep not later than 22.

That was a first thunder day and soon after it stopped the weather was refreshing and energising, it felt like the air is inviting for some action despite the darkness. Something was different and intuitively I looked up to seek for the reason of this change.

The sky.

The crystal clear night sky was as beautiful as I have never seen in my life. People say we should go to north to observe stars, but since yesterday I say-go to Himalayas. The sky was full of small and big stars and it seemed that there is not a single place without a star. The Milky Way was so prominent and huge just like the earth does not exist, just like this is the only reality to live.

I usually think that no matter where I go the sky is always the same and it somehow symbolizes the sameness of my world. Not this time. The combination of stars clearly resembled letters and I was a witness of something very sacred and intimate… religious scripts from the God? I called my friend and we both were starring up trying to put in words our feelings.

-The falling star! – we both shouted at the same time.

-Wish that you want to finish your PhD!

-Too late…-I whispered. How could I think of a wish? I was just happy that moment.

Happy without reasons, demands, wishes, thoughts of future, thought of others or myself-actually, no thoughts at all. Maybe that’s the problem that we usually try to achieve happiness? But the happiness has been always there? 

23_Into naked remoteness I

The peace slowly and softly covered the earth, gently entering every house and every heart. This peace has been here for a while, waking up just few moments after the sun, after the first rays enlighten the area. The earth is slowly becoming fresh and new just like a newborn baby, and old just like your childhood friend.

How could I explain that scientifically? How and why should I look for reasons of remoteness, castes, settlements, history, etc. etc. if the actual reason is not scientific at all?

For 11 days we were staying in two different settlements of a so-called remote ward of the village. Honestly, I was waiting for that moment for a long time, mostly because of what people were telling me about this place. They said it is very remote, very hardly accessible and very cold and children would hide their face in the sand once we approach them. Everything was “very”, becoming therefore very interesting.

I must say the talks were quite of exaggeration-we reached the first settlement in 4 hours of walk and we were surprised of high development of the place. Here I started understanding development from a different perspective than before-at one hand there are traditional signs of development which are road, health post and education. But from another hand there is people empowerment, feelings of community and informal education; and this is what we experienced here.

This place was inhabited by only few Brahmins and Chhetri, others being indigenous tribes (Limbu and Rai). Indigenous people are usually those who need time before they “open” but once you get their sympathy they become your sincere and trustful friends. Every day they make better and better food and at the end they even don’t want to charge you. Indigenous people can never become rich!-I usually say. The richness of their soul is simply much bigger than their craves for financial richness.

There was not even common Nepali shyness or suspicion in this area, not even of children.

Look at this picture – this is the man we encountered just few seconds ago, but his face already has a big kind smile.

Some people here told me that they have never talked to a foreigner like that before. In this village most of the men have been for employment in Gulf countries/Malaysia for many years and obviously they saw different people before. But sitting close next to the fire and talking with eyes, smiles and words-that was the first time.

That moment of intimacy when no borders exist and we are humans of naked souls. Just humans. The difference of pasts and presents is so huge that it hurts. Suddenly I want to bring them to my home, to give them my food and to sit on my house floor, having the same eye level. Sofas and chairs make people so distant.

I thought that sometimes the heart tends to expand and when it becomes larger than myself, I want to cry and hug and love and even to laugh quietly. But instead only a slight smile comes to the face and we just touch each other with our eyes.

A young man came through the heavy rain and slippery paths at night just to be able to talk to me again. He told me he was so happy to meet me and I thought that I wish I could keep this sincerity and truthfulness. When a person comes at night to your house just to see you.

At some points I told him I will visit them again at Dasai and Tihar (the most important religious festivals in Nepal), which made him even more excited.

“I don’t have a sister… I will give you tika during that day…Ok?”

“I would be happy for that.”

Childish happiness appeared on his face which has made me even more sentimental.

Tika given during Dasai is something very special and sacred, expressing intimacy and close relations between a group participating in this ceremony. Normally during these festivals Kathmandu is empty as all the people go to their natal homes to receive this blessing.

I entered this world so carelessly without realizing what to do with my feelings, with their feelings, with my world and their world. Now it’s too late, the damage is done-I already miss them.