Thursday, September 4, 2014

Sex, Lies and Daal Bhaat

25/8/14

I have returned from my sojourn to KTM.  In fact, there is a possibility that I will be going back, in a month, for training about how to establish a library, at site-here’s hoping!

The KTM trip was complicated, from the start.  As some of you may have seen on the news, there have been massive floods and landslides in Northern India and Southern Nepal, over the last couple of weeks.  The day before I was to leave for KTM, this weather hit us.  There was torrential rain for 36 hours, the rivers swelling and the roads turning to mush.  I got up on Friday morning anticipating leaving on the regular 9:30 bus.  My family kept telling me that I shouldn’t go, but I though that they were just exaggerating.  Around 7am, despite the ridiculously bad cell reception, I managed to talk to my nearest neighbor, Ben.  In his village, part of the bridge had washed away and he’d be unable to leave his site.  That settled things, we were stuck.  It was a very bad day.  It was sad to see the three houses that had been washed away in the river, watching the dejected faces of the families thinking, I’m sure “what do we do, now?”  Knowing that there was no help from the Government coming, that the only help their equally hard-up neighbors could offer was help with the physical rebuild made me thankful for the (flawed) social safety net we have in America.  On a more selfish note, I wanted to leave, wanted to join my friends in KTM, wanted to run my first GAD meeting, the one that I’d been planning for months. 

Much to our relief, the rains stopped for just long enough for the water levels to lower to make travel possible.  7 am Saturday  morning, my Buba and I left our house for the 3-hour walk into Tulsipur.  We met Ben at the intersection, after an hour, and proceeded to trudge into town.  It wasn’t so bad, really just a strange adventure, although there was a rather deep, fast moving river that we had to cross (thank goodness for growing up in MT and being used to that!) We talked about how bizarre it was that a three-hour walk was no longer a big deal.  When, in the states, would you be all right with walking three hours to get somewhere?  If that were the case, I’d just pass on whatever activity required the three-hour walk!  While our arrival in town was a relief, we weren’t out of the woods until our 7-hour bus ride to Butwal was over.  We boarded the bus with some anxiety.  About an hour and a half outside of Tulsipur we had successfully crossed all the rivers that could have hampered our journey.  The rest of the road was fine, although we passed nearly 30 small and medium sized landslides that had blocked the road the day before and had only recently been cleared.  By 5:00 we arrived in Butwal-dirty, sunburned, exhausted, but relieved.  A delicious “American” dinner and good night’s sleep left us refreshed and ready for the final leg of our journey.  The Butwal to KTM leg of the journey was easy.  We splurged and spent an extra 20 rupees on a deluxe bus!  This meant free water, comfortable seats and Nepali and Indian music videos that we got to make fun of-what a treat!

We arrived in KTM on Sunday afternoon and I immediately ran to a nearby hotel pool to swim with my friend, who was celebrating his 21st birthday.  While it wasn’t exactly ideal pool weather, just being in a bathing suit, floating in a pool, surrounded by manicured gardens transported me back home for a short hour.  Sunday was about my friend’s birthday.  After getting dressed up and going out to dinner, we all consolidated in our largest hotel room for the commencement of the festivities.  Debauchery was had.  I don’t think anyone can understand how wild we get, and why, unless they’ve experienced the isolation of living in a rural village for weeks and months on end.  We are desperate to talk, to laugh wildly, to dance (often raunchily), to eat, to drink, to touch, we are desperate to do all those things that we can’t do at site.  So, whenever anybody chides us for being loud and wild, I just think “you have no right, because you have never been where we have been, you have never done what we have done.  And if you have, you have forgotten what it was like.”  After cake, a twerking contest and lots of silly picture taking, we managed to herd the group out to one of the only “clubs” in town.  The joy in that room, as everybody danced and laughed and let loose, was palpable.  Of course, the next morning saw hangovers to match the revelry of the night before. 

By Monday is was back to work. Those volunteers who were Resource Volunteers had sessions all day.  Us losers had to occupy our time in different ways.  I spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday from 12-4 at the PC office-meeting with staff, trying to fix problems that are un-fixable at site, advocating for GAD.  Monday evening saw GAD’s first in-person meeting.  It went wonderfully.  Our new CD and his wife attended, the only staff members who thought it worth their time, and were very interested and attentive.  We had so much work to do that our meeting turned into a two-part-er, but I am very excited about what our position in PC will be, in the coming year, as well as our upcoming and ongoing projects-I’ll keep you updated! 

Most evenings were spent watching movies (“The Fault in Our Stars”-what a hilarious stinker!), getting yummy dinners and drinks and going dancing.  For the most part, the time PCVs spend together is joyful, fun and full of love. However, there is a dark side to PC relationships (both platonic and sexual) that I never anticipated. 

When I joined PC, I honestly thought that peace-loving, semi-crunchy granola types would surround me. I actually thought that I would be one of the more abrasive, non-hippy types in the group-boy was I wrong! I have spoken about the drama in PC before, but right now, it seems out of control.  I guess when you put 24 people together who, with the exception of two volunteers, are between the ages of 21 and 31, things will happen. PC Nepal is like “The Real World”(the only exceptions being a lack of physical fights and camera confessionals).  We have: cliques, intrigue, rumors, gossip, breakups, cheating, fights, tantrums, crying, lying, bullying. 

Another thing that I had heard about PC was that 75% of people return to the states either married, engaged or in a serious relationship.  Now, Nepal may just be different from other PC countries, but, at this point, I don’t see how it’s possible for that number to even be 25%!  To start or sustain a romantic relationship amidst all this…well, I don’t know how it’s possible.  Platonic friendships are easier, as they don’t have sex mucking things up, but even our PC platonic relationships have to contend with rumors, mistrust and lies.  The friendships that can stay afloat amidst this will be very strong, to be sure.  I count myself very lucky to have several of these friendships to provide me emotional support during the struggles of PC.  I do not think that the situation we are dealing with is because we just happen to have dramatic, bad people as volunteers.  I think that we see the worst (and also the best, at times) in each other, brought out by the massive stresses that we contend with.  This, in combination with youth and general horniness creates the cesspool of drama in which we find ourselves.  To stay sane, I just try to stay out of it and to help my friends navigate the turbulent waters, when they fall in, to give them lots of love and to be an advocate for them.  The fact that I (and my friends) haven’t  freaked out, hit anyone or quit, seems to speak to the fact that I’m doing a fairly good job. 

I have no solution for our situation.  I can only hope that people start being more self-reflective about their actions, to see how much more pleasant life would be without cliques and bullying and rumor mongering(lord knows, I like gossiping as much as the next person, but the difference between gossiping and rumor mongering lies in the truth of the information being passed about).  Life here is hard enough without feeling that your every thought and action could be fodder for criticism and/or malicious embellishment. 

Travel back to site was also difficult.  I stayed in KTM two days longer than I had planned, due to concerns about roads and thus the necessity of Dang-ers traveling together.  Once I got to our district capital, I was further stalled by a Bandh (these are called by political parties and basically say that for a certain amount of time, no vehicles are allowed on roads). I don’t see the point of them, except as a show of political strength.  I stayed over night in the capital and then finally finished the long trek back to site-laden down with two packages from home and dog food for Danny.

 While site is very boring, I am relieved to be home-to the peace and quite, at least for a little while. 



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