Spending Christmas in Sri Aurobindo ashram

On Christmas holiday kids have organized different games-
here they stand in the line waiting for the beginning

I've decided to spend my Christmas days in Sri Aurobindo ashram outside Kathmandu. For those who did not know-ashram is a spiritual hermitage, where inhabitants spend a lot of time for spiritual and physical exercises, serving the world and fulfilling their duties. Don't confuse it with monastery-even though people don't marry and have very few material possessions here, they are much freerer than monks. They study in universities, dress casually, wear make ups and frequently go outside to the city.

This particular ashram is mostly a shelter for children-those abandoned or those, whose parents decided to send them to a spiritual place. Those children have a local school; although apart from that ashram practices integral teaching-apart from governmental syllabus kids are learning to dance, to sing, to paint and they have daily physical exercises. Each one of them, even those of 6-7 year old have their duties and usually the duty is performed in a group of younger and older children, so that elder ones can help smaller ones. Small kids can actually do a lot! For instance, to roll dough. Those children are still poor, but they get proper food, they have warm clothes and they have clean beds to sleep. Above all-they are happy. Have you ever been to orphanage? I haven't, I always thought I am too emotional to see those small kids who are missing real homes.

School activity-in this game kids learned different English words.
On the command they needed to perform something, e.g. smile

This is not the case here. Children are responsible, never alone or never crying. Another thing-they smile back and laugh a lot. I've noticed that here in Nepal children  are very shy and even though they would come close to you lead by curiosity, they would always turn away or hide if you smile or initiate contact. Here a child would give his wide happy smile at the very moment he sees some first drops of smile in your eyes.

My heart has melted.

The guru of the ashram, hugging the smallest ones

Children in the line for delicious food

Children in ashram develop their talents professionally-some of them start drawing amazing thangkas, some go for sewing, some play musical instruments, others go for college.

Old and young participate in the game for candies

The centre has naturopathy, where all the diseases are first treated with ayurveda. They also make pashmina and sell organic vegetables.

Everyone does according to his skills and wishes, and the whole community benefits from that. 

So many places in the world would try to build communism; and all of them would fail-at the end people's greed and will for power would beat all the good intentions. Not the case here, where spirituality would be interwoven in every action-not in the form of non-stop prays, but in the form of doing good, serving people and living for the divine.

At first this peace and tranquillity made me think I have nothing to do there; with time I got more and more attached to the simplicity and joy. Ever day I would think of staying here forever and every evening I would wish to run away. It was so bloody COLD! I though I got used to the cold Kathmandu, but that was incomparable! Having on me all the clothes in many layers it felt like even the blood in my veins is freezing. I could also not imagine any life after 9 o'clock, the cold made it impossible even to read in the bed-the book holding arm would scream to put it back under the blanket. So I went to sleep quiet early. I thought to work for my research in ashram-but didn't really happen. Either my fingers were too stiff either with the first warmth from sun I would just run outside and enjoy my muscles getting back to life. Although I have managed to solve my research related long lasting annoying problems. 

 

For me it is the place to return. I keep asking myself a question-why we people cannot live like that? Why can't we have organic food, natural medicine, be friendly and share with all what we have?

From tranquillity to 3-day ride back to Kathmandu

 Beautiful Falaichha is the place of deep valleys, high hills, forests, springs and waterfalls. Sometimes I would stay on the hill and look at the another. I would count houses.... and I could barely count more than 3-4 on the other side. It was hard to move around, because it was so steep and it became scary after sunset to go home. I was afraid from the animals, because all around is only forest and Sunil was afraid from people. Nepali people in general still have post-maoist fear and they would always exaggerate the risk.

How many houses do you see? This is the inhabited village.

In Falaichha I felt the most political tensions in the country. Unfortunately, I feel like predicting upcoming conflicts. Although the village is so peaceful and the biggest wish and responsibility of people, as they said, is to live in peace and help each other. Preserving culture and having the identity becomes so important, that some would go and fight for that.

   Political leader, is not cutting beard until the stable government comes to power. Beard would be also useful in case if he needs to fight for his ideas- then people would not recognize him                

                                                             

In some places of Nepal I have become highly dependent on nature, especially on sun. I wake up early to be able to catch as much day as possible and I go early to bed, because it is so cold, that I cannot even read a book-my hand is freezing. I know at which hour in which place it becomes warm and which places to avoid because of shade. Knowing east and west becomes crucial and adjusting for the shade makes it possible not to freeze and still be able to use the computer. After 17 it is already late for me and I try not to arrange anything after 4-it is too dark to move around, as  there is no street light. If I am lucky and there is a solar panel, I also learn at which hour the water is the warmest. This lifestyle becomes natural and the only problem is that it doesn't fit with my necessity to study. I rather feel like collecting leaves or cooking daal bhat.

---
And so there was this long going back. After reaching Jhapa just within 10 hours in uncomfortable local jeep we stayed in the so called best hotel of town. Pretending to be luxury, it had AC, cable TV, couches and a sofa. Apart from that the bed sheets and towels were never washed in their long life, the shower would be stuck with hair and the toilet.... well, it was so disgusting that I am not going even to write it here, I guess you got my point. After long drive and being general quite dirty in those rural conditions I couldn't find the cleanest spot in the room even to sit, so I preferred to keep standing. Luckily I had a sleeping bag, so I could escape from touching the bed sheets and pretend to enjoy my sleep. That was not the case though. In the evening the group of Indians arrived in the hotel, so my doors and windows were frequently knocked and those many attempts to violently open my door made me quite nervous. In this moment I felt thankful for so much furniture, so that it could work as a blocking force-I have made a special mechanism in front of my door so that noone can open it too easily or too fast.
Luckily I was too tired so I felt asleep hoping to leave this awful place as soon as I can tomorrow morning.

Morning came with the continuous fog and extremely poor visibility. Airport staff confirmed my fears of cancelled flight. Going back to Jhapa? No, I rather WALK back to Kathmandu!!!!!
Long debates and discussions with people from the airport about renting a transport were not successful, so after wasting lots of time I was just crying not to stay in this horrible place any more longer and at least to hire a taxi to reach any closer point to Kathmandu before it gets dark.
And so we went to Biratnagar, hoping to be able to get seats in the next early morning bus, where all the seats were already sold. Lucky enough we got seats and I was sitting in the very front, sharing 1,5 seat with another passenger, kids, legs, backs and bags of other people. Being so squeezed was not the biggest problem-the window was broken (and at 5 in the morning the cold is intolerable, especially in the bus with the opened window!). The holes were also in front of me and on the bus floor, so actually I could have 3dimensional connection with the outside. I was happy for having big feet and not being afraid that they would fall in that hole.
Just 12 hours and we reached nighty Kathmandu. I managed to find accommodation quiet easy, although in the morning I needed to start my living place search again. But otherwise those were days of moving again, eating and sleeping. Finally having access to all the different food I couldn't stop filling my stomach and the exhaustion was too strong to leave my bed.

I pray for not having fog in the nearest future, when I go to East again....

Up and down in moods and hills on the way to Falaicchha

Reaching Falaichha (next destination) was not that easy. First we needed to go down, then up, then down, then up (read it 3 times again) until we entered one house, which was supposed to be our overnight stay. Usually my very friendly, talkative and soft (unable to say “no” to hundreds of tea invitations) assistant this time told me to speak by myself. Surprised I wore a mimic of a diligent student and said a primitive text in Nepali about who I am. Ehm, actually our hosts were English teacher in a secondary school+ English teacher and school principal! Great! Not at all, actually. My Nepali was so much better than their English so often I would find it much easier to use my poor vocabulary to explain what I need than to try to appeal to their English skills. I still wonder what an English teacher can teach if he even doesn’t know answer to the question “how old are you”…

Anyway, that was quite a horrible stay-we were charged really a lot and we both couldn’t stand the hosts urge of money. To make it worse-we were trying to plan our way up to Falaichha and a little bit drunk and a lot smelly driver promised to arrange everything and we would move tomorrow at 5.

Next morning he woke up after 6. You can imagine how angry I was for waking up and waiting for him in that early and extremely cold hour after exhausting walk previous day! The things got only worse-we drove for 4 hours to get to know that actually nothing is set and our way to the destination is blurry. So, annoyed up to the highest limit we skipped the drive and started to walk back and up.

Remembering now the walk to Kopchhe (just before Falaichha village), few things pop in my mind-lack of water for half a day (and in general I’m close to die if I don’t drink and walk a lot), a heavy bag, very slippery way and fear from darkness which reached us in the forest before we got any signs of humankind.

 But above all-the mysterious forest. Even Sunil, the graduate from forestry, would say this is very unusual forest, especially in those heights. I could swear to you-Avatar producers would be jealous if they saw those trees! They could speak and I am sure they could hug you or kill you.

A tree from a fairy tale

And only forest around

Let’s though go back to the darkness and the slippery way. Already exhausted and starving for water in twilight finally we saw a spring. Being so happy I filled my bottles but forced myself to wait for purification pills to work-the source was too low to trust it blindly.

Was getting darker and darker, the road more and more slippery and around-only deep forest.

Finally one house appeared. Knowing that it was one and only before another long walk to any settlements, my lips, totally dry, were unable to pronounce anything logical, but eyes were so desperate… in this case language is not needed and the first words of the owner were – stay here, don’t go further. Stay with us and in the morning you continue your walk. Hearing this revealing melody I imagined myself as an old-time traveller, who would ask for shelter and water on the way.

Our hosts-quiet a bad picture, though

The smiles of those two people are still in my memory. Feel like after an exhausting physically or morally day I would always like to come to their fireplace and enjoy their simplicity and heart-brightness.

Unfortunately tiredness led to sneezing, crying and coughing all night and next day for me. Getting from this family some weird spicy berries and branches to chew against my cold we left this wonderful place, where I could spend all my life.

In couple of hours we reached a bazaar, where I could finally get warm tea. My throat was so sore and my eyes were so much crying that I wouldn’t like to talk or to even look at the curious crowd in the tight circle around me. Nevertheless my sick appearance would be so appealing to the young girl-owner of the “café”. She gave us some snacks and tea for free and sit nearby when I was in the “toilet” in which wood cracks would actually be bigger than wood. Moreover, she would constantly tell me how cute and nice I am and at the end would even give me bangles as souvenirs.

Well, life is never boring here. 

The warmth in the cold Nepali village

Beautiful Sidin

Martial arts for kids in local school

After a long drive in the uncomfortable minivan on actually very good road (for Nepali life-threatening standards, of course) my body popped out in front of Sidin (the village in Panchthar). I received my already very dirty bag (throughout the whole journey I felt that the smartest decision was to put my backpack in extra cover against dirt) and made a deep deep breath. In this unbelievably silent silence was only one disturbance-screams from martial trainings. Such a surprise!

The first place we went became our host-house for next few nights. In general, rural Nepali families are very hospitable, generous and welcoming. It would never be a problem to find an overnight stay or lunch in any of the houses we would pass. It always seemed crazy, that you could just go to the house on your way and ask for food. It is so sad, that nowadays in our society it is hard to come closer even to the house, big fences and aggressive dogs would not even let you inside the garden…

Making tea in the morning. Kitchen is the heart of the house,
and the source to survive in cold

We were immediately “taken” by local teachers, so willing to share all their knowledge, to help and to introduce with all their networks. We put hats, gloves, jackets and sit comfortably close to the fire in the kitchen. Warm, nice food and the proper sleep even in so cold conditions was what we needed.

The old proud man

Next day we were walking around and became honour guests in two events. Firstly I was invited to the marriage party. Actually it was not a wedding, but the party organized by the bride’s parents for her to be able to “enter” her in-law parents’ house. Since the couple have had love-marriage and not arranged marriage, that was a necessary procedure I was observer of. On that party many people would like to come to talk to me. Some of them would tell their sad stories, some would promise to arrange marriage for me, some would just come and would be proud to be 86 years old. As I mentioned before, I had a status of a married woman in the village, but many people would not believe me. That young look of mine!

Marriage party

Look at that special guest!

Another honoured position was in the games, which gathered several villages in neighbourhood. Events like that happen once a year and special guests would be invited to sit on the stage before the opening. And so was I. Without knowing and understanding what is going I was just sitting and letting people staring at me. Well, I starred at them too. Funny enough, one old lady couldn’t hold her curiosity and went down to my place to look at me closer.

What I’ve noticed is that children would be a combination of curiosity and shyness, which would never let them come closer. Although once my assistant left me shortly, the circle around me of young teenagers would become tighter and tighter and finally I would have no escape from almost physical contact with them and being forced to pose for many pictures for their phones. You might be surprised about their phones and so was I-but here having a phone is both a necessity and the fashion thing, so many would prefer having a better phone than better food.

Actually I was in more favourable position, because my assistant (who is Nepali, but still looks exotic enough for them, because he represents another ethnicity) was surrounded by local opinion leaders. I would call them usually “the smart men”. Wearing suits and sunglasses in the evening only with their whole look they would already say that they are smart and know everything better.

In these cases I would open my box of patience and would listen to their smart speeches waiting for the next day, which I would devote for talks with casual people.

Oh and the people were so nice. Many of them would ask me casual for researchers questions-why do I need that and why do they need to tell me their problems. But quite soon the first barrier would be gone and they would call me “naani” (a sweet word for cute daughter), would give me smiles, warm water and tea. I wish I could understand what they tell me! Even though I’ve learned some Nepali, Nepali here would be totally different and I was solely dependent on the translation of my assistant.

Pretty, lovely, warm, caring faces of rural Nepal

Nevertheless I was crying and laughing with them, admiring over and over again the inner and outer beauty of those people.

 

And so with the book of notes I needed to say good bye to this wonderful place and to move next morning to the north. “Come again, come again”, people would tell me. I hope I will.

Timeless tea gardens and How I shock people here

Tea gardens

Next few days I spent trying meeting some smart people, who would eventually help me to find out-which villages to choose for my research objectives? I even ended up at the local NGO meeting discussing issues of Lapcha (Lapcha is an ethnic tribe), of course, in Nepali.

Ilam bazaar welcoming gate

Saturday was the most challenging. It is a public holiday and everything is closed. It was striking and scary at the same time, this nothingness which appears when you don’t have friends around (Danish girls had left), computer, any public place to go and even understanding of the geographical structure of this place.

Those Limbu ornaments!

For several hours tea gardens became my shelter. Walking between bushes, sitting on the top and reading a boring methodological book, observing people walking around I was coming back over and over to the issue of spending time like that, realizing attachment to the social-media-informational space.

There would be few Nepali, trying to talk to me, though. Mostly couples of men (women would still be doing their homework during the holiday, while men would walk around killing their time). These were the moments when I realized three key methods to knock down any Nepali:

1) By saying where I am from. Most of the rural Nepali would associate any foreigner with America or Britain, therefore country like Latvia would leave them speechless for long time.

2) By telling my age. Looking young even for European standards, for Nepal I look like a kid and people would normally think of me being 16-17. 

3) By speaking Nepali. My skills in this language are yet too primitive to claim any sort of knowledge, although I am capable of expressing my basic needs and maintain kindergarden level conversation. In most of the cases Nepali would not filter anything coming out of my mouth as Nepali, so usually I would need to say that I am actually speaking Nepali now. There would be many cases later when the length of shock would be so long, that I would seek for the help of my assistant to calm a person down by starting translating my speech. I remember me asking in the shop “biscuits chha?” (do you have biscuits?) and receiving continuous answer “chhaina” (no, they don’t have), even though I could see biscuits clearly in front of me. Only after my assistant repeated the same phrase, I was actually given what I asked. Later discussing this demotivating issue with Sunil (my assistant), he was explaining that I should morally prepare people that I would talk to them in Nepali before I actually tell what I need. In the case of the shop I would need to say firstly that “I am hungry, I would like to eat something and to buy something from your shop [then-pause and wait for a person to acclimatize]. Do you have biscuits?”

Tea gardens

The investigative trip to begin!

Two days ago I returned from my first trip to Mechhi and I still feel like sleeping-eating-doing nothing. Not the trip itself was so exhausting, but the way back, which turned to be not a 40 min flight, but 3 day long drive in different vehicles, expanding my understanding of physical discomfort, and staying in very doubtful hotels.

But I start from the very beginning.

On 28^th of November I was in the middle of my room, getting desperate with all the things to sort; those, to leave, those, to take with me. On the day of my departure to Ilam I would also leave my wonderful apartment. Remembering preparations before the trip which were done last year together with I was surprised by how careless I am this time – no emergency letters, no planned route, no understanding who am I going to meet or where I am going to go. My research assistant was supposed to join me in 3 days in Ilam and then we would start our trip to….?

Being close to Himalayas

On the planned day fearless me equipped with trekking+research+living items, long earrings, necklace and bangles (the very necessary item describing my marital status; I went to villages as a married woman) passed through annoying check-in after having a small fight with those “please, leave some tips” and waited for the flight to Bhadrapur.  

In fact, I was not thinking of the high risk of getting crashed (happens quite often here), rather the possibility of getting motion sickness due to turbulence. Although none of these happened-the flight was smooth and breathtaking. Flying in parallel with Himalayas and seeing the highest peaks of our magnificent world… Well, you must see it to understand.

Arriving at local airport in Bhadrapur

The impression was killed during the 5 hour drive in jeep, feeling sick and praying for those road curves to be over. However, nothing lasts forever, even if it feels like. Ilam met me with finally clean air, friendly people and, most important, two Danish girls and their friends. It is not often I go to unknown place and someone meets me; but this time I enjoyed their hospitality fully. Maybe due to that reason Ilam still stays in my mind as a place to return.  

Centre of Ilam 

Between hate and love in Kathmandu

In general very few things have changed since I’ve started my boring PhD existence in Kathmandu, but I’ll describe the few.
1.  Bicycle or improving surviving skills on the roads of Kathmandu

Local KFC

Night traffic-no lights

Bicycle perfectly expresses my general feeling to Kathmandu-love and hate and nothing in between. I was so happy to get my own vehicle, mostly because now I can reach the shop in 7 minutes and not 15, and that significantly saves my time. In the euphoria of “I’m so independent not-a-tourist” I’ve challenged myself and have never taken a taxi ever since, so I’ve made all my travels by MYSELF! This is totally crazy and I’d never advice anyone to do that unless you have a strong belief in your faith as I do. On the roads you feel deep holes and high bumps. You sometimes get stuck by thousands vehicles on both of your sides, being deathly afraid to move by a centimeter to the right or left. You experience that the road is too small and everyone is fighting for the place, and those who are going on the opposite lane simply go on your lane and you have no escape. Your eyes envy your nose, which is under the protection of the pollution mask. You want to show your third finger to all those people who seem not knowing that the road is for transport. You even stop and close your eyes realizing that you cannot go to any other direction and the only way to survive is to accept the hit (and that actually doesn’t happen). But at the end you laugh loud seeing Nepali turning their head up to maximum to see a “bidasi” (foreigner) on the bike.

I could write poems about me and my bike, and especially about me getting lost and spending an hour for the distance of 2 kilometres. Nevertheless, I am enormously proud of myself of fighting with my fear and topographic idiotism (I hope my colleagues-geographers do not read this!)
2.  Unforgettable (!!!) festivals 

I was lucky (actually unlucky) to be in Kathmandu during the Tihar (alternative to Indian Deepawali) or the festival of lights. My Nepali teacher was very kind to invite me to her place to explore real Laxmi puja (workshipping of goddess Laxmi, the one who is bringing wealth and prosperity).

But that’s what actually happened.

Preparation for Laxmi puja-the feet are left in the corners of the house for Laxmi to find the way

Before worshipping I was taking pictures of preparations in my natural excitement and enjoying an apple. Later we went with my teacher to pick up her German friend. On the way I somehow felt weird with my stomach…. And when we reached the house of the friend, I already occupied toilet throwing out everything I could. The way back was the most horrible experience in my long and colourful life of puking. My entertainment was continuing during the whole sacred night, luckily I’ve had the separate room to enjoy…

But don’t worry about me, next morning I was fresh, thin and almost totally healthy. Lesson learned though-don’t be stupid and peel all the fruits if you can.

In the evening I went to the Tihar+ Newari New Year with my wonderful hosts. Newaris are one of the ethnicities in Nepal and they have New Year in November. Woman in red sarees, many lights and symbolic worships, traditional food…well, just look at the picture.

Newari New Year

   3. Cold or winter in my house

Another topic for me to write a lot. Yes, it is damn cold here. The temperature might rise up to 25 during the day, but in reality only during few hours it is so warm and at nights it is 2-3… Don’t laugh, dear Northern people! When you have -30, you make walks and then happily go inside the warm house, drink tea and enjoy snow from your perfectly isolated window. Here I wake up and see my breath in the room. Most of the time the temperature inside the house is much lower than outside and most of the people wear hats in the house, also when they sleep. I needed to include 2 workouts during the day, make daily shoppings and finally, to give up and to buy a gas heater. Actually soon I got too much poison in my lungs and blood and refused that improvement too… So now I am just patiently waiting for the spring and hope to survive even colder months.
 4.  The story of high morale

Research visa is something so important and annoying at the same time. Why would I need to get “no-objection” letter from Embassy of Latvia, stating that they agree that I stay in Nepal? At the end I called plenty of institutions and managed to “squize” out of Consulate of Latvia in Riga some stupid sentences like “in general we don’t object anyone to study in Nepal”.

But the story is not about that but about another lucky day of mine.

I spent another hour in the local bank creating another account and becoming very ethnocentric, thinking about the inefficiency of people working there. After that I grabbed my map, put the mask on the nose and head toward immigration office. Being situated very close (some 4 km) within one hour I was rather close to the highest peak of my hate to this unorganized and not understandable city rather to immigration office. Nevertheless, miracles happen and I reached my destination, stopping shortly to the nearby shop to make a photocopy of my passport.

!!!!

My wallet with 150 euros was gone.

…

Having faith in general honesty of Nepali I didn’t want to believe in theft, so I imagined me dropping the wallet in the bank. Without any hope my feet were slowly paddling and my emotions almost cope with getting lost on the way back again.

The wallet was actually there. Found no in the bank though, but by security guard outside the bank.

That’s the story of my lucky day. And about how my ethnocentric hate has transformed into long bow towards the sincerity, honesty and kindness.

I should be more careful with my thoughts; otherwise these lessons of life are a bit too hard.
5. Work. Work?

Learning Nepali

Only two nights more and I will reach Far East Nepal. So much looking forward.

In the illusions of post-workshop time: a post of home-hunt and some challenges of a big city

The workshop of 8 intense days has finished with a great relief and rosy illusions about deserved rest. Before I move to the process of broken dreams, let me say few words about the workshop.

Kathmandu Univeristy. School of Management

The workshop gathered 5 frustrated PhD students from Denmark, Nepal and India; as well as their primary and secondary or tertiary supervisors. To summarize these were the processes we were going through in this period: 
1. Killing our babies. Most of PhDs had carried several carefully kept and maintained ideas, which were brutally killed. 
2. Eating candies. This most popular snack was generously given on our tables and it was highly consumed at times when no one really understood what is going on. 
3. Long and heavy dinners of Nepali food, which is very good, but absolutely impossible to have every day twice for my spoiled western stomach.
 4. Listening to political frustrations during the political symposium. 
5. Upgrading geekiness through learning a new software for research.

Overall, apart from these things inhabitants of the wonderful expensive Summit hotel (the one which kicked me out from the room 3 times; also the one having cockroaches in the most expensive rooms) were enjoying conditions of a vegetable in the greenhouse. All the meals, transportations and even planning of a day were not of our concern. At the end, though, together with my colleague we sabotaged few evenings and went outside in the real world.

Even though it all may sound quite nice and interesting to a reader, don’t get misleaded: at the end of the day my brain capacities were below zero and the only escape from the shameful situation was putting a mask of smartness on the face and trying to follow with eyes the speaker. It didn’t always work though; I still managed to fall asleep during the symposium.

Now you can understand how happy I was after the final workshop day – to go to my hotel room and to think about sweet tomorrow, which would consist of hotel hunt, managing research visa and, finally, enjoying massage at the spa center.

Ha!

First of all. Finding a guest house in a non-touristic, quite but not isolated area, with a room, which could be used for working and living (not only sleeping), having constant electricity and internet… it is impossible in Kathmandu. My first frustrations started to grow when I looked for one specific hotel for 30 minutes (it was less than a km away from me)! In Kathmandu only few streets are given names and you just need to know all the other locations since maps are VERY imprecise and locals know only MAJOR landmarks. That means that if you are lost, you are lost and there are no signs helping to identify your place. This fact together with my topographic idiotism should make you feel pity for me.

Anyways, first day I struggled across dusty roads towards the noise of hippies (there is a street, which gathered first western hippies). Another interesting fact about Kathmandu – most of the  streets/roads are not divided for pedestrian and transport. Accordingly, people, bicycles, motorbikes and cars have equal rights. For the safety purpose, all the vehicles feel obliged to use a horn every time they see anyone else. For me it is a disaster –  I have some sort of “noise-phobia” and loud sound totally knocks me out. So you can imagine how frustrated I was standing at the crossroad, being totally blocked by cars and motorbikes and hearing cacophony of tens vehicles.

On the second day I already thought – oh no, why did this workshop ended up?!!! Feeling totally helpless in this city I thought I need to give up and to go to old good Thamel (a small touristic district) neighbourhood, simply because it is so much easier.

I was lucky though. Going through airbnb the evening before I have noticed one room offer, which seemed a nice option for me. I called, I came to see it and I was happy to move in the next day. The house is rented by Australian-French couple and they rent me out the big room+common are+bathroom and the kitchen. A really nice option. Although the people already made me feel like being a part of the family and calling this place my “home”, I am still facing challenges of a Nepali house. Often electricity blackouts. We have a generator, so we are not totally left in the darkness, but this light is still quite dark. Cold. The house is constructed in the way that I am freezing even when it is hot (25 degrees) outside, so in evenings (when it goes up to 5-6) I lose my abilities to function. Impossibility to fully close windows, leaking sink, etc. etc. All this was passionately minimized by the western couple, therefore I still feel happy. Also because it is so quite, I hear birds and I don’t need to put dust protection mask immediately I leave the house.

Ah, don’t send me letters, I do not have any address. I am 10 min away from Patan Dhoka and you will never be able to find me. That’s why I understand that in the application for a bank account people are asked to “draw the map of their home”.

My dear Danish friends – if you feel happy about living in a quite and organized country, I will try to destroy your feelings now. Every morning I wake up, run to the window/balcony…. and enjoy the warmth of the first sun rays. The sun is always here  Always (the picture below shows a view from the hotel room_early morning)

From homeless to the palace

Probably my life and the blog would not be so interesting if I didn’t have a special talent to make my life…hmmm ”unsmooth”. Last time I managed to get into a plane together with an aggressive mad person (read the blog “fieldstudyinnepal”), so this time I do not complain at all.
I just forgot my phone. Being a person who likes to plan and pack everything systematically and very well it came as a shock and feeling of helplessness. Already in the airport I have realized that actually my phone is at my home, because I took it out from the travel kit to answer the person calling just before my leave… and I never put the phone back in the back. Instantaneously my eyes were filled with tears of being desperate and imagining everything what usually happens to me – unplanned landings, delayed baggage and flights, motion sicknesses and ambulances next to the plane… And that’s all- without a phone?! I gave a heartbreaking look to Kardi and stepped into “non-Eu” area, running for the boarding, which have already started. Later I was regretting a lot for my inability to cope with my fears and to transfer them to another person. But at that time I just felt like a small girl going to the jungle. Such a western phone dependency!

Anyway, I was flying with nice Qatar Airways and watching several new movie premieres on my private screen, then sleeping like a log on the chair in peaceful oasis (Doha’s airport lounge) and flying again to Kathmandu. After staying for 2 hours in visa issuing queue in Kathmandu airport I was very happy to finally arrive in my hotel. Though not so happy to find out, that there are some “small problems” with my room. Due to whatever miscommunication problems my room was booked, so I needed to go to another “not so nice” room with shared facilities. Well, it is still so much better than my sleeping place in the field. And actually it was. Besides, I had a chance to move to the better place after 2 days. After 2 days I came to check about my moving and found out that I MUST move out from the hotel, because the hotel doesn’t have the room for my for next 6 days of workshop.

Apparently my curse of being homeless doesn’t leave me.

Being so much used to be “on the move” I realized the annoying part of this at most only after I shared my trouble with the rest of the group and receiving lot of support.
So I packed my bags next morning and left them at the reception hoping not to be left on the street.
And so I wasn’t. A call from a right person to a right person made me hear promise that a manager “will try to do something tomorrow”.
Tonight I sleep in the best room of the hotel, I guess. I think it is of the size of my flat in Copenhagen, which I share with my friend  I don’t have hopes for being allowed to stay here further, but at least today I’m the queen in this palace.


By the way, my problem with the phone is also to be solved. My Austrian friend (currently staying in Ktm) promised me to help with that in following days.

I’m going local. I’m going networking.


P.S. I’ ve just discovered cockroaches of the mouse size in my palace. But I’m not taking my “queen” title for tonight anyway

Back in Nepal

So I’m in Kathmandu again. Have I ever been away? I’ve been driving in the taxi today, leaving a piece of me in those vegetables on streets, women in colourful, shining and blinking clothes and jewelleries, in people’s beauty and above all – polluted dirty air, traffic, traffic, traffic (meaning hundreds of bikes and old cars miraculously going in between the people). Memories took over and started living their own life. I am here again. Is this all, is this real? Somehow I think that everything what was in between – was unreal and I actually I have never left this place.

But let’s finish with the philosophy. I think I need to give some more explanation to those who don’t know me or if know, then they still are confused about what is it that I am actually doing here.

Last year I went to Nepal for my first time. Together with my friend and master thesis colleague Linda we went through different stages of one month long field work. Long enough for me to get sick and never leave the feeling, the wish to come back. At that time we did a crazy thing – we combined environmental and developmental science in order to explore the role of social capital in adaptive capacity of rural Nepal. Crazy because we combined different disciplines along general principles of interdisciplinarity and against policies of our 2 different departments.

Half a year after being done with my master thesis I came across PhD announcement and there was one name which caught my attention – Nepal. I was reading the announcement cross over, being more convinced that it is not really what I want to do (I fully commit my soul to environment), but this one word didn’t go out of my mind. So I decided to apply, just for the sake of applying and training in going for interviews. And that’s how it started.

Now I am a PhD student of Copenhagen University department of Geology and Geography, proudly calling myself human geographer. To be more precise, I’m a part of the Danish-Nepali-Indian project called “Nepal on the Move”. What I am doing is analysis of multilocalities impact upon community construction in rural East middle hill Nepal. In practical terms it means 8+3 months of fieldwork in Nepal, the rest devoted to literature review, articles and teaching.

But this blog is not about my PhD or ethnographic experiences (in fact, I will write this as well in a separate ethnographic blog). It is about…

instead of defining it I prefer to bring up the quote “travelling brings unconsciousness into consciousness”. Whatever you may understand with that.