Flashback: DC

Yes, I really do have oodles of Kathmandu pictures and thoughts to post.  We snapped another 100 or more on our walk last weekend, and that’s the latest in a series of walks–not to mention several days’ worth of Pokhara that I never posted, and dramatic and awesome photos of Swayambhunath that I have somehow managed to sit in for almost 3 months.  But with the events of the last week, my mind has been wandering.  Because, as you know, I haven’t always lived in Kathmandu.  In fact, for a few months last year, we lived in Washington, DC.  And it was actually at about this time last year that I arrived in DC, having never visited it before then.

So in the past week, it’s offered me some perspective.  Even though we only listened to President Obama’s Inauguration, I could picture the swamping crowds filling the Mall, and the backdrop of the Capitol… and to the opposite side, stretching far away, the Washington Monument… and finally the Lincoln Memorial itself, in a panorama that is absolutely dramatic.  And, similarly, as I watched footage of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, it really sunk in that I had stood in the exact same spot on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.  Footage of the crowd from the 1963 March on Washington, and pictures of the crowd that watched the 2009 Inauguration, have blended in my mind, filled out and expanded by my memories of the vast park we call the National Mall.  It’s far bigger than any pictures could capture; it takes several hours to cross it… especially when you factor in the leisurely pace that the place demands, since you need to spend the majority of your time walking down it with your head turning side to side, admiring buildings and monuments and trying to grasp it all.

The U.S. Capitol, as it looks on a typical day, instead of all dolled up for the Inauguration.

Sadly, I’ve never actually had the chance to stand where Obama took the Presidential Oath; that area above the steps you can see in the picture is closed off to the public.  But there’s plenty to see on the outside.  Even if you don’t stand in line for the tour of the interior, just walking around the sidewalks that wrap the Capitol is impressive.

A view of the exact same place, just a bit further back. On that lawn between the road and the Capitol Building, the crowd with the best seats gathered on Tuesday.

You think you have some notion how large this place is.  Unless you’ve actually been there, let me assure you that you have no idea.  I didn’t, when I first arrived.  I thought it would be easy to jaunt from landmark to landmark and take them all in during a single day.  Here, that’s actually doable, within, say, Kathmandu’s Durbar Square.  When we translate the word into English as “square,” we essentially do mean city block.  I won’t deny that the temples in Durbar Square are remarkable, with ornate carvings and great attention to detail.  And the Taleju Temple truly soars.  But…

...and again, the same as above, just even further away. In fact, midway between the Capitol and the Washington Monument.

But the planners of the National Mall had astonishing vision.  At the time they designed the place, people must have wondered at the massive empty space left for the Mall.  It allows plenty of space for the monuments/memorials already there, and there’s room to build more, for centuries and centuries.  Easy.

Taken by simply turning around in the exact same position where the picture above was taken. Yes, midway between the Capitol and Washington Monument.

And the Washington Monument itself marks the midpoint between the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial.  And from the Washington Monument, if you’re walking from the U.S. Capitol, it requires a pronounced hike off to the right in order to get a decent view of the landmark EVERYBODY wants to see.

The home office that Barack Obama now lives and works in. Fairly fancy.

But in order to glimpse the White House, as I said, you have to take a slight detour from the straight line that runs from the Capitol, through the Washington Monument, and to the Lincoln Memorial.  Only, in the past decade, a new landmark has been erected right along that straight line, so you stumble into it on the way to see Lincoln.  Honestly, I’m embarrassed but honest enough to admit that when we first came upon it, in the dark, on a cold January evening almost exactly one year ago, I didn’t even understand what it was until I found a sign to scrutinize in the darkness.  And then I was impressed.

It's hard to capture this one and do it justice. But of 80 or so pictures in which we tried, this was the best.

…and while you’re wandering around staring at the World War II Memorial, reading quotes and studying engravings that capture the experience of the war, you realize that you’re very tired indeed, and very far from the nearest Metro terminal.  And you still haven’t even seen the Lincoln Memorial.

Actually, I did all this in reverse:  at our first chance after entering DC, I caught a shuttle to the nearest Metro terminal and waited eagerly for the nearest stop, then sprinted straight for the Lincoln Memorial.  Only in the following days did I get a chance to approach the Washington Monument, White House, and Capitol.  (Often with a pronounced sense of “Is that…  That looks like… is that honestly…”)

But even a photo journey can eventually make you tired.  Especially when it’s very late at night.  More later!

Nepali of the Day:

din:  day

raat:  night

bihanna:  morning

diuso:  during the day (ie, afternoon)

belukaa:  evening

ek barsha aghi:  one year ago

ahile:  now

-maa:  in

basnu:  to live

ma baschu:  I live

Ek barsha aghi, ma Washington DC-maa baschu.

Ahile, ma Kathmandu-maa baschu.

21st Century Inauguration

I just finished listening to the Inauguration of President Barack Obama.  Yes–LISTENING.

When we first moved here, and tried calling the main cable provider in Kathmandu, we discovered that we lived too far out of the main part of the city for access.  They politely explained that their cable lines just didn’t go as far as our neighborhood.

It still looks like we’re in the city.  The houses are dense, the road always busy, with cars and people and cows–like the rest of Kathmandu.

On the other hand, over the weekend, we took an easy, meandering walk down some of the side roads that led away from our neighborhood… and in only an hour, our eyes were very wide, and we were trying not to gawk, as we stared at very traditional Nepali homes that looked like they were centuries old.  It did look like electric lines stretched that far–but by no means did the lines branch off for every house.  And in the language spoken around us, suddenly, I wasn’t picking out a single word.  This, in spite of my nascent ability to understand Nepali–usually, on a typical walk, I now hear words I recognize amidst the snatches of conversation, from the ever-present “Hajur” to the repeated “Keena?”, both just as common as they are in English.  But in the old village–complete with giant banyan tree, the looming type under which Buddha attained enlightenment, and under which Shiva sits in some forms–I noticed that I didn’t understand a single word spoken around me… and the rhythm of the conversations sounded different, too.  Likely the people were speaking Newari instead of Nepali.

So.  Pictures of our walk later.  The point right now is that just before 10:15 this evening (AKA noon EST), I was trolling all the news sites and trying to find a live stream with Inauguration coverage.  I found the link on CBS without much trouble–but then I did have pronounced trouble, because of our relatively low bandwidth here.  Listen to music, yes; in fact, I can even view video on YouTube, if I start it playing and then pause it for 15 or 30 minutes while I let it cache (or download?  what’s the right word here?).  But watch live streaming video… that, I realized, sadly, I cannot.  In a few lucky seconds, I caught flashes of people walking, or speaking, all for scarce seconds before the image froze again.

My husband couldn’t think of a way to improve the connection, either.  But just as I realized that the BBC was maybe broadcasting Inauguration coverage, (which it was–103.1, 24-hr English news in Kathmandu!) he decided to try live streaming of C-SPAN radio.  And lo and behold, immediately, we were listening to live American coverage of the Presidential Inauguration the old-fashioned way:  over the radio… instantaneously streamed through the Internet to the other side of the world, to a house less than an hour’s walk from a village that looks like it wandered out of the Middle Ages.

Bewildering.  But magnificent!

Nepali of the Day:

hajur:  Most commonly, “yes” … but it has many uses, from “Could you repeat that?” to the politest form of address, since it’s the highest version of “you”

keena:  why?

gau:  village

shahar:  city

sansar:  world

loktantra:  democracy (formed, just like the Greek word we use, from the basic words for “people rule”)

Free Rice!

An addictive little website that I discovered through someone else’s blog–after I stumbled on it, I realized that I’d heard of it before, but I’d never managed to actually visit it.  Now, I’ve added it to my Care-to-do-Something page, and I encourage anyone who stumbles on it through this blog to go visit it, too:

Free Rice

The best part of the addictive little game on this site is that, as the name says, you actually fund donations as you play the game.  The English teacher/activist in me REALLY loves it.  A vocabulary game where, with every correct response, you donate 20 grains of rice?  Where you can test and improve your vocabulary, get addicted to a new online game (I’m already on level 44–think you can beat me?)… and donate to a good cause.  What could be better?

Well, maybe if it had other subjects… and lo and behold, it does.  If English vocabulary doesn’t keep you interested, you can go test/review/learn basic words in Spanish, French, German, or Italian.  Or perhaps you prefer math?  Or chemistry?  Or geography?  Or art, and identifying famous paintings?  And then, there’s the English grammar section…

I discovered the site about 20 minutes ago, and in part of that time, I’ve been reading other reviews of it, and posting here.  And still, without hardly noticing it, I’ve racked up a donation of over 2000 grains of rice.  When you consider how small a grain of rice is, maybe it doesn’t seem so impressive.  But the effect of hundreds of thousands of people playing the little games adds up.

The donations are handled through the UN World Food Programme, which has stated that 1 billion grains of rice is enough to feed 50,000 people for one day.  And the latest monthly count posted on Wikipedia shows a grand total of over 3.5 billion grains of rice from December 2008 alone.   As of yesterday they’re up to a donation of 57 billion grains of rice, total.  You do the math–I think I’ll stick to the languages section!

So… play, learn, and give!

The rice field across the street from our house, when it was ready for harvest in mid-September.

Nepali of the Day:

chimaal:  uncooked rice

bhaat:  rice (ready to eat)

daal:  lentil sauce

daal-bhaat:  the most common food here–so the phrase itself means “food”

khanaa:  the more generic term for “food”

khannu:  to eat

dinu:  to give

Ma bhaat khanchu.  — I eat cooked rice.

Malaai bhaat manparcha.  — I like cooked rice.

Ma chimaal khandina. — I don’t eat uncooked rice.

Dherai manchelaai bhaat manparcha.  — Lots of people like rice.

Dherai-dherai bhaat dinus! — Give lots of rice!

The Night the Lights Went Out in Kathmandu

Do you ever sing a song to yourself, and then wonder if anyone else has ever sung that song in Kathmandu before?  I do.  I mean, honestly, how many Nepalis have ever heard the Irish/Appalachian “Siuil a Ruin?”  Or the French “Noel Nouvelet?”  Or all 8 verses of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen?”

But “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia” has at least a slightly higher chance of getting coverage.  Especially since it just happens, as a regular occurrence, in Kathmandu.

The electricity supply has been erratic ever since we arrived.  Our generator has kicked off and on as the electricity rises and falls; it’s just a normal part of life, aggravating to me because I hate it when the giant, noisy, polluting, diesel guzzling thing roars to machine life.  The disappearance of electricity can only bother me in the evening in any case, since that’s the only time I use the computer or watch TV or do any involved cooking.  For as long as it’s light, I read or clean the house–and I’m perfectly happy to delay loads of the laundry if the electricity really wants to disappear.

But we arrived in the monsoon season.  And the monsoon season ended several months ago.  And that, for Nepal, is drastic.

Nepal has maybe the greatest hydroelectric potential of any country in the world.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of rivers drain the highest mountains in the world, racing down slopes with great potential for turning turbines.  Global warming paradoxically offers potential help, in more rapidly melting the glaciers on the Himalayas.  But, too, from June to October, the monsoon clouds rise up from the south and drench the country before slamming into the Himalayas and dropping whatever rain they have left.

All this means that Tibetans live in a massive rain shadow–most of the country is essentially a cold, elevated desert.  Nepal, on the other hand, ranges from Mt. Everest through a dizzying drop of mountains and hills and valleys down to malaria-ridden jungle, full of tigers and elephants… all within an area roughly similar to Tennessee.  Multiple studies indicate that Nepal is capable of producing surplus power to export to the rest of Asia.

Unfortunately, Nepal only just emerged from a civil war two years ago.  And even aside from that, many areas of the country remain breath-takingly remote; it’s not unusual to meet someone here in Kathmandu, and listen to them explain that they’re originally from a village “two days by bus, then 6 days of walking” from the capital.  And most Nepalis walk a heck of a lot faster than we lazy Western folk.

During, and following, the ten years of fighting, many people from rural villages traveled to Kathmandu for work.  And the city really hasn’t had the infrastructure developments to handle the influx; as near as I can tell, there doesn’t seem to be much planned development at all.  Simply put, the existing power plants can’t even generate half the  power to meet the city’s demand.

As much as possible, Nepal is importing energy from India to make up for its shortfall.  But massive flooding during the monsoon this year–aside from creating a humanitarian disaster–also knocked out a power station and some of the main power lines coming up from India.

So the government has imposed load shedding, with a neat schedule reprinted every few weeks in the newspapers, to let people in each district of the city know the hours in the day when they can expect to have their electricity shut off.  By December, they’d reached 12 hours of load shedding a day.  This weekend, they’re upping it to 16.

So, essentially, we can only expect 8 hours of electricity a day.  Our yucky generator can give us extra time; still, I’m trying to get by with as little electricity as possible.  I do plug in my laptop, and it charges; then I run it off its battery until I have to plug it in again.  I’ve long been turning off the heaters in rooms no one is currently in (we have separate heaters/air conditioners for the main rooms, instead of central heating or air); now, I’m even trying to get by with them off as much as possible even while I’m in a room.  It’s currently 58 degrees Fahrenheit in here; I’m wearing long sleeves and a sweater and am wrapped up in the amazing shawl our didi gave me as a Christmas present.  The shawl could be made of artificial fibers; it’s possible.  But it really feels like the yak wool shawls I’ve seen in Thamel, and it’s incredibly warm, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what it is.  When I pause from typing to hide my hands under the shawl again, they’re immediately and comfortably warm.

Still, I CAN turn on the heater.  In a little while, I’ll probably cave and do so.  I definitely had it on for Alaska, when she returned from the vet this morning–she was just spayed, so she’s already uncomfortable from that.  And she’s a very pitiful little puppy, who seems to lack the undercoat I’m familiar with from German Shepherds/Labs, so she shivers when she’s cold.

The cats have just decided I’m nuts.  Except they cuddle more–to enjoy nice warm laps.

Our neighbors, though, are sitting right now in very cold and dark houses.  Some light fires in their yards, and huddle around them; I can see the occasional candle, too.  In fact, earlier, my neighbor’s evening ritual was even more interesting than usual.  You see, for the first few months we were here, early in the morning or late in the evening, I’d often start glancing from side to side, wondering why I heard the tinny sound of bells.  Then I got better at finding the source before it stopped, and I discovered that in several of the houses around us, someone–usually a young woman–goes out on the roof in the morning and/or evening and rapidly rings a bell for a minute or two, while maneuvering the bell through ritual gestures, probably for a puja or prayer.  Earlier this evening, with everything outside the window dark, it was shocking to suddenly glimpse a leaping flame–I peered out the window into the window of one of our neighbor’s houses, to catch sight of two moving hands, one holding a brilliant candle and the other frantically ringing the bell.  I watched the woman put the candle down on the window sill for a moment, then retrieve it and disappear back behind the walls of her house.

Out another window, a bit later, I could see a full moon rising–again, more impressive because of the power outage.  I tried taking pictures of it, but none of them were quite as good as a similar full moon I caught earlier this year.

The full moon rises over the hills north of Kathmandu.

That was before the constant load shedding, back when we all could have electricity.  Sigh!

Nepali of the Day:

didi:  literally, “older sister;” also the word equivalent to the English “maid”

ujyaalo:  light

undaroh:  dark

jaaDo:  cold (weather)

garmi:  hot (weather)

chiso:  cold (to the touch)

taaTo:  hot (to the touch)

ekdam:  very

ahile:  now

pani:  also

chha:  is

laagyo:  feel

-laai:  added to a noun to make it an object, like the reflexive pronouns in French and Spanish

Ahile ekdam jaaDo chha.

Malaai chiso laagyo.  (lit, “to me cold is felt”)

Mero biraalolaai pani chiso laagyo.

Um, Happy 2009?

I know, I know, I’ve disappeared for a VERY long time.  I didn’t get to put up my pretty pictures I took of our Christmas decorations; I haven’t posted any adorable pictures of the growing puppy; I missed my chance to put up my teasing, “Hello From 2009!” post to target all you silly readers stuck 11 hours behind me in Eastern Standard (or even Central) Time.

But the truth is, we went to more holiday parties/events in the week before Christmas than we normally go to in the United States itself.  And then, the day after Christmas, I was alarmed enough to call a local nurse just an hour after I first felt nauseous, because I was more suddenly and horribly sick than I’d ever been in my life.  At first we thought it was food poisoning; four days later, they diagnosed me with–I kid you not–dysentery.  Honestly, on New Year’s Eve itself, I fell asleep before 10 o’clock–for the first time ever, I was far more interested in sleeping than ringing in the new year.  (And this is following on the ear infection I had on New Year’s Eve last year–dratted luck!)

Yes, I have actually been feeling better for a while, for the majority of this week.  But I’ve still been tired–on Wednesday I fell asleep at 6:30, was woken up to eat supper, and then went back to sleep at 10 and slept through the night.  And, yesterday, when I sat down at the computer, my highly reliable internet connection decided it didn’t feel like working just then.

So, at long last, only now can I manage a post.  And what is it about?

I could finally put up my “Christmas in Kathmandu” photos.  Or describe more about my amazing students.  Or add the latest update about the wonderfully healthy and tripled-in-size parvovirus-survivor puppy who is now safely vaccinated and even scheduled to be spayed tomorrow.  I could write a half-dozen Nepali politics posts just about the events of the past week alone:  the increase in load shedding hours, so that Kathmandu will now receive just 10 hours of electricity a day; the row about the replacement of Indian priests at the largest Hindu temple in Kathmandu with Nepali priests; the strikes in beautiful Pokhara, essentially shutting down the city as a tourism destination just two months after we visited it, before I could even finish posting my favorite pictures; the rumors of an upcoming transportation workers’ strike that could shut down Kathmandu next week; the protests and statements and discussion about press freedom following the trashing of a local press office a few days before Christmas…

But the truth is, I’m still too tired to reliably manage any of that.  Right now.  But I get better, and more caught up, every day, so there should again be regular posts coming soon.  Stay tuned!