Democrats, Hindus, and Italians

I’m writing this with henna on my hands.

And I don’t know how else to sum up today, except the title.  I’ve had one of the strangest and most fun days of my life.

I started out this morning watching a simulcast of Barack Obama’s convention speech, in the company of many interested Nepalis.  Before anyone starts getting suspicious about politics, I hasten to add that we plan to do the same next week with McCain’s convention speech.

Then I learned to knit, with the aid of a very experienced teacher.  I’ve only made one little row, but it’s a start!

After that I attended an early celebration of the Teej Festival.  In Nepal, Teej signifies a three-day festival, celebrated only by women.  It is said to commemorate the goddess Parvati, who was so devoted to the god Shiva that she diligently worshiped him and prayed for him to become her husband.  When he was so impressed by her devotion that he did marry her, the annual celebration was “started” in remembrance.  During it, women are expected to pray for the long life of their husbands and the health and prosperity of their families.  On the second day of the festival many women fast all day (Parvati is said to have done the same, as proof of her devotion to her prospective husband).  On the third day women take a special bath to purify themselves of all the accumulated sins of the past year.

But the first day is a plain-out party, and it was to this that I and other American women were invited.  The first day means wearing brilliant red and oodles of jewelry — the traditional attire of a Nepali bride.  It means getting your hands painted with intricate henna designs — also part of traditional wedding celebrations.

And it means throwing a party with only women attendees, where there’s good food, Nepali music, and plenty of enthusiastic dancing and laughter.  The arm motions during the dance made a little more sense to my foreign mind when a fellow American described them as “waving an invisible baton over your head with one hand; holding your other hand out in front of your stomach and petting an invisible dog.”  It looks much more elegant than the description sounds!  And more difficult, too, but fun.

I didn’t have a camera with me, but if you want some idea of the scene, check out the following link:

http://www.daylife.com/photo/05K82ww2Yf2HL

(the women in the front seems in the midst of “the invisible baton” part)

Red saris are the most traditional attire.  But since I have no sari, I merely wore my most intensely red shirt, which I’ve had for years… and a long skirt which I conveniently bought here in Thamel last weekend, without even knowing about the festival.  Since it had a nice splash of red, I wore it, too.

And then, in the evening, we went out to a restaurant in Thamel.  It’s very new–just opened this week–and, as the post’s title suggests, Italian.  And delicious!  The couple who own it are in fact from Italy, but they also speak English.  I know because we were there with eleven people, one of whom had been there every day since the restaurant opened, and the electricity was out in that part of Kathmandu, so I guess the proprietors worried about keeping us happy.  But they’re also just friendly and vivacious people, so we had great conversations with them, and enjoyed wonderful food… until we finally got tired and came home.

The restaurant is named Mamma Mia! and is conveniently located near the main entrance to Thamel, so check it out if you’re heading to Kathmandu.  (To all friends and family laughing at home:  this blog is getting hits from people searching google for specific restaurants in Kathmandu, so I don’t think the recommendations hurt).

A festive day!  Maybe not a normal American way to start Labor Day weekend, but truly in keeping with the spirit!  No work, all play, all day!

Nepali of the day:

git:  song

sunnu: to listen

nekhnu:  to dance

Git sunnus:  Listen to the song!

jatra:  festival (but usually used mainly for the Newari [Kathmandu-area indigenous group] festivals

Teej:  a small red insect that comes out of the soil during monsoon rains

For more info you might want to see:

http://www.teejfestival.org/

And for some good traditional Nepali music:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLy_0jwSsCQ

I’m Still Here!

I know, I know, you probably thought I got over-ambitious with my driving. Or over-ambitious with our restaurant visits, and picked up some nasty bug. Otherwise, why would updates to the blog have disappeared for so long?

Well, the answer’s more mundane. Your first clue should have been how updates disappeared right before I could post my “Happy One Month Anniversary, Blog!” post. You see, we thought we paid ahead of time for two months’ internet access. Evidently we only paid for one.

At first we just thought the company’s internet connection was down. Once we figured out the problem, we had to contact them and send someone in person to pay them the rest (we don’t really receive bills here, and automatic debit seems out of the question), and then they had to re-activate us, and then that took a while to take effect…

Anyway, we’re back up now. Lovely web access!

In the meantime, we haven’t done too much. Nepal has added to its momentous events: the new prime minister has been elected. The new government is forming. And we went to the best Mexican restaurant in Kathmandu, and visited the zoo.

Tomorrow I’ll put up the latest news in Nepali politics. But about the restaurant – it’s called the Lazy Gringo. And it offers delicious milkshakes. (Mine was labeled as “Snickers Milkshake.” It only had a very slight Snickers tinge, but was good and milky and chocolatey, nevertheless.)  And the burritos are huge, and the tacos easily recognizable as such, and my cheese enchilada was delicious.

The Lazy Gringo is in the much-mentioned city of Lalitpur (Patan), the third of the Kathmandu valley cities, along with Bhaktapur (of wood-carving and pottery fame) and Kathmandu itself.  And it also happens to be right across the street from the zoo.  So while we were there, we decided to also go to the zoo.

I’d heard reports that it was a tad depressing, so I braced myself to see tiny cages with miserable animals.  But it wasn’t that way at all.  Yes, one group of antelope/deer type animals looked like they needed to have the grass re-planted in their enclosure.  And none of the animals had huge amounts of space.  But they all had decent-sized enclosures, set up in different ways to better simulate the natural habitat of each animal.  The leopards had perches.  The monkey-type creatures had plenty to climb and swing from.  The water buffaloes and hippos had happily submerged themselves in their ponds to escape from the heat.

And the zoo included several animals I’d never seen before, some unique to the region, or Nepal itself.  Himalayan black bears, blue deer, clouded leopards… Whether playing or resting, they all seemed pretty comfortable.  And many Nepali families wandered through the zoo, the children as wide-eyed as any American child watching wild animals up close.  The whole area seemed set up for family outings, what with a playground with fair-type rides nearby, and a large pond/small lake in the center of the zoo which was busy with paddle-boats.

True, we also gained another perspective on the zoo.  Because as we gawked at the animals, many of the other zoo patrons stared at us.

I don’t tan. I learned years ago that I have two colors: white and red. And the red one hurts. So there’s little question of trying to blend in here.  One glance proves I’m very much of European descent (the Cherokee genes, though strong enough that I could actually claim membership in the tribe, do absolutely nothing for my complexion, and little for my overall appearance).

The briefest trip down any street in Kathmandu can display the ethnic diversity here:  some people look like Europeans with mild tans, while others look heavily Chinese.  But no one’s pale, so pale means foreigner — and it’s plain odd, and odd usually attracts stares anywhere.

Here, odder still are African features.  And the lack is especially startling to me, since I just spent a year teaching students from Somalia and Burundi and the Congo and Sudan.  I’d been a receptionist with African-American co-workers too, and greeted a diverse group of Americans who walked through the door every day.  Here, you see very few Africans, and those you do see are more likely African-Americans.

Still, the component of my most recent English classes that wasn’t African had been East Asian, primarily Burmese.  And since the Burmese language groups with Tibetan into the Tibeto-Burmese language group, and there aren’t just many Tibetans in Nepal, but, since Tibet lies on the northern border, many Nepali people are from Tibetan-type ethnic groups themselves… maybe you can guess how familiar some of the faces here are to me.  I could swear I’ve seen distant relatives of my previous students, many times.

But I’m strikingly odd to all of them.  A fair number of adults can’t drag their eyes away once they notice me walking by.  Children of course gawk more openly, and from the heavy-emphasis on English in grade schools here, they all seem to have gained the same word, because many of them shriek, “Hello!” when they see me.  I always smile and respond with the same, but I’ve learned not to expect them to dare anything more, not even a response to, “How are you?”

As I walked by three little boys who looked about six today, they all just followed me with their eyes till I was almost past them.  Then one dared, just below a normal tone, “Hello?”  When I smiled and responded, that encouraged the others, and after I responded to each one of them they got excited.  Till I was far down the street I heard them all chorusing repeatedly, “Hello!”

Still, I had an interesting moment of introspection on the whole thing, at the zoo.  Me staring at the animals… other people staring at me.  Is it flattering or offensive to be as unusual as a Himalayan Black Bear?

Can you spot the Americans in this picture?

Nepali of the day:

Ma ali ali Nepali bolchu.  — I only speak a little Nepali.

Ma Nepali sikchu.  –  I study Nepali.

Ma angrezi bolchu.  — I speak English.

Ma American hu.  –  I’m American.

Tapaain Nepali hunuhuncha.  — You’re Nepali.

Fire and Ice, Part II

Just a brief post for now, because it is very late.

On Sunday we went to Thamel again (we have discovered most foreigners spend excessive amounts of time in Thamel), thought not just to wander around — my husband brought his new bike with him here, and while he was pretty certain he put it together correctly, he wanted to have a professional check the brakes. (If for some reason you doubt the importance of this, see the post on “Traffic,” July 22.)

Anyhow, since we were there anyway — and we needed to also wait around a while to get pictures made for our driver’s licenses (if you want proof we are insane, see the above post again) — we decided to go to Fire and Ice again.

And this time I had my trusty camera, so I took pictures of our food, for visual proof that you can find both pizza and ice cream in Kathmandu:

Arguably the best pizza in Nepal. “Funghi” with chicken.

Yes, there’s wonderful soft-serve ice cream and fluffy cake here.

Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera handy when we went to the Roadhouse Cafe last Friday. There, you can get pizza topped with Tandoori chicken. Yum!

Someday we will have pictures of daal-bhat, too. I had daal soup for lunch today, but alas, no cameras then.

And some other day there will be pictures of the strange variety of packaged food you can buy in the stores here. And the fruits and vegetables in local markets and…

I’m afraid I really ought to go to bed now, though!

Nepali of the day:

khaanaa: food

khaanu: to eat

Ma khaanchu: I eat

malaai manparchha: I like

malaai manpardaina: I don’t like

ra: and

Ma pizza ra ice cream khaanchu .

Malaai pizza ra ice cream manparchha.