A Colourful Affair

The wedding ceremony in the foothills of the Himalayas… full of vibrancy, colour and music

Making friends with a lovely local lady

Just don’t use the left hand …

This week has been especially eventful, a visit to the tailor, a wedding, decorating classrooms and learning to eat curry with right hand only !

I went to order and be fitted for my traditional Nepali “saree”, which would be a long tunic and scarf for the wedding.. The seamstress or tailor was a small, jovial woman in her 40’s, who had built herself a tiny workshop, made up of corrugated sheets of iron. It was miniscule inside, but managed to house / accommodate her sewing machine, overlocker and a bed where she cut out fabric on top and laid out potential and finished saris and coultards.  Stacked on shelves on one side, in glorious technicolour, were piles upon piles of bright woven materials, some richly embroidered and embossed with gold and silver motifs,  others had appliquee and “burnt out “ patterns in the fabric. Oh my goodness, I was not expecting to find within this humble, battered, hut this amazing Aladin’s Cave of woven textiles and beautifully made sari outfits.

The tailor was thorough, took all my measurements. Joining us in her workshop was the school principal’s daughter Sumi, who was also being fitted for a sari, her dog “Bacca Keto” (baby boy) and a small kid (goat kind not human). It was all rather comical as the baby goat and “Baby Boy” dog insisted of chasing each other around the hut and knocking us all over in the process as there wasn’t really much room for a game of animal tag. Finally once all the measurements were taken and we had chosen our favourite pieces of material, we left satisfied and excited that we would be suitably sareed for the wedding.

Indeed the morning of the wedding as I put my blue saree tunic on and red velvet John Lewis trousers (I’m glad these came in handy as it felt a bit opulent packing them) I felt quite the part and in keeping with Sumi. I put on make up, big sparkly earrings and a cheap bling Marks & Sparks necklace, here I was all dolled up the first time since I left the UK. I was looking forward to going to this auspicious celebration, my first Nepali wedding. Weddings here are a three day event. On this first day the couple were carried “Piggy back” style by close relatives through a flower decorated arch, then they went round in a circle as other relatives sprayed them with water and rice. This continued for a good ten minutes then they walked down a small, uneven path to the reception area which was a large piece of land with a little white tent erected for the occasion, the land any other day was used for livestock, goats mainly.

The couple took their place on a settee in front of all the guests, they were then served a copious meal of daal, rice, three different types of curry and Nepali bread, all prepared by the men of the village. Next it was the turn of the first sitting of guests, including myself. We all sat crossed legged on woven wicker mats and waited patiently for our serving.

Suddenly, the excitement of the Nepali wedding seemed to disintegrate, as it dawned on me….OMG, of course, there was no cutlery, everyone here eats with their hand, I would have to do the same and use my right hand with fingers to scoop up the curry and rice mixture. Instantly my Monkey Mind sprang into action and started listing all the reasons why my hands were grubby, swarming with germs and this would only result in a good bout of d and v. Thank you for sharing Monkey Mind, but this is no time to get paranoid.

I started to make a ball of rice with my right hand, then rolled it in the daal and curry and lifting to my mouth tried to almost suck the rice package in (I was infact copying the neighbouring guest, subtlely.) I found it was n’t so difficult after all, and soon finished the delicious, spicy meal. However, unbeknownst to me I had a Nepali audience avidly watching the westerner trying to eat. I was thankful to have remembered to use my right hand, as here the left hand is used to clean oneself after visiting the toilet.

Despite my Nepali dress and trying to fit in there was absolutely no way I could have passed incognito. I had a range of reactions from curiosity, surprise, bewilderment and waryness. I made friends with a lovely elderly lady (see photo), who I sat next to most of the day. She was so taken with my M&S bling necklace I was wearing, that she wanted to swap her own necklace with mine. 

Let me explain, hers carried a solid gold pendant which was probably well over 50 years old and worth 60 , 000 rupees or more (£500). What is common here is that the locals put all their money in gold. Only 2% of the population in this region have a bank account. Gold is their collateral, if they suddenly need the money for hospital emergency, travel or any other unforseable costly event then they sell the gold necklace, earrings or bracelets, which more often than not have been passed down from generation to generation over many years.

I didn’t want to offend my new found friend, though in hindsight I don’t think she was serious. Luckily, I was able to make a joke with the few words of Nepali I had learnt to let her down lightly that this was not a good idea and we were able to have a laugh together, pheeeeeeeeeeeew. We sat and watched the happy couple receive blessings and money from the guests (around 500  people altogether) and listened to the musicians as they sang and drummed typical Nepalise Wedding songs. 

Incidentally, the marriage contract is not a piece of paper signed and sealed, but two pigeons caught and housed in a wicker hand made basket. This is brought and placed by the couple, the Buddhist priest, or Lama, gives a blessing then these pigeons are let off into the mountains. This symbolizes that the marriage contract is now official.  (You could certainly put some of the UK pigeons to good use employing them to officiate marriages in this way ?!)

As the afternoon drew in, I was getting tired and frustrated at the fact I couldn’t share or have a conversation in Nepali, and longed to go back to my living quarters at the school, but I couldn’t remember the way back on the dirt tracks and hidden paths through the jungle. 

Children to the rescue ! My  pupils from school suddenly descended on me, chattering away in English, complimenting me on my Sari and asking me to hang out with them. Overjoyed to hear their almost perfect English, I gladly obliged and off we headed up to the next plateau of terrace in search of natural materials; flowers, leaves, shrubs to take into the art class the next day. We had heaps of fun, collecting a diverse range of beautiful flowers and strange, almost tropical greenery.

All’s well that end’s well and I was accompanied to school by the children themselves who didn’t seem to mind trundling back to school on their day off then returning back to the wedding for the evening festivities.

In class the next day, some of the natural materials were used to finish of the art mobile project which they started the week before. Classes 4, 5, 6 and 7 all participated in groups of three too make a collective mobile. Instructions were carefully given and diagrams drawn up to clarify that we weren’t making telephones ! Explaining that the word “mobile” did once upon a time have another meaning, an artistic meaning. I have included some photos of the children’s art work in this blog. All the artwork the children produce goes to decorate their classrooms, which are quite new and stark, desperately in need of a creative transformation. The next project with the older classes, will be to design and to decorate the nursery, LKG and UKG classrooms with educative art murals. I definitely think it’s important bringing a breath of fresh air and an upbeat, colourful atmosphere to the school and it’s pupils, a truly worthy cause.

One finished mobile, ready to hang in the classroom

Art project with classes 4, 5, 6 and 7

Chime Bars and Witch Doctors

This last week has invited me to look at things I thought I knew, in a different way and brought me into the present moment. The sights, sounds, smells, tastes, all the fresh feelings of experiencing a completely new country and it’s culture awakened and heightened my senses.

Here at Laligurash Bright English School, I teach Art, Music and English. My main challenge this week was: How resourceful can I be when there are no art materials ? Art is not one of the subjects deemed as necessary here, neither music, in fact musicians are seen as the lowest caste, (there are seven castes with brahmen (priests) the top and musicians and tailors at the bottom, despite in 1964 Nepal’s Government made discrimination against castes illegal, it’s a slow changing process).

I managed to convince the Principal that these are subjects which are of great importance, and gave him my best, simple right brain - left brain explanation. I focused on why it is essential to stimulate both sides of the brain, not just the left, but also the right with the pupils.

Right brain activities are needed to encourage creativity, innovation, invention and intuition. Subjects, such as art, music, creative writing, theatre and movement (dance) are necessary to help birth new ideas, new ways of seeing things, nurture innovation and build on resourcefulness.

So, here I am being resourceful for my art class, collecting an abundance of coloured flowers, unusual grasses, leaves and corn sheaths on a walk round the school, with Sumatra (daughter of the Principal and one of the teachers at the school). We collected such a variety of natural materials, it took over several of the tables in the classroom. The brief I gave the pupils was quite open, designing a picture with the flowers and leaves in groups of three. Each group discussed ideas then had to execute their chosen idea on paper card (which I had brought with me). There was excellent team work and the results were quite stunning, I have included photos of some of their artwork here.

For the following art lessons with the younger pupils, I have collected all the waste cardboard boxes I could find for paper card, and I have my ex- neighbour, Sandra, to thank as she gave me two packs of crayons, felt tips, chalks and coloured pencils to donate to the school, which I know will bring instant delight to these children, who have rarely seen or used such materials.

After learning about the seven caste division system and how musicians are the lowest, I had mixed feelings and some trepidation about how music classes would be received by the students. I had brought with me in my hand luggage a few instruments, guitar, chime bars, xylophone and shakers, I was hoping to make some more percussion instruments out of the natural materials around the school and village (bamboo of all shapes and sizes grows here).

My first music lesson was met with curiosity and excitement from the schoolchildren as they had never seen nor heard a xylophone or chime bars. After touching briefly on a simplified music theory, I divided the children into groups and invited them to play the chime bars and xylophone encouraging them to make up little tunes. One child would play a rhythm on the Nepali drum ( Madal ) while different children would make up tunes on the chime bars. This was a success with all four classes, from ages 10 to 14 years, we made a mini - orchestra so every child had a chance to play an instrument and I was able to teach simple tunes like Happy Birthday, which they learnt to sing and play on the instruments. Each child also took it in turns to be the conductor, inviting the instruments in, one at a time, signaling for playing louder, softer, faster, slowly and stop. When the lesson ended, it was sometimes a challenge to stop the children from tapping the chime bars as they left the classroom !

I feel I’m settling in and adapting to this new life a little more everyday. I have a simple, yet comfortable room. I eat two meals (breakfast and dinner) of rice and daal a day with the school principal’s family, I sometimes cook the evening meal. If I get hungry there is an assortment of fruit growing wild in their “jungle - like backyard” ; bananas, persimmons, oranges, guava.

I am on the top of world looking down on creation …. here the school is 1 630 m in altitude, I’m completely immersed in nature, more than I’ve ever been in my entire life. A rich, lush green forest supporting an impressive ecosystem of animal and plant life. Stunning wildlife including bright red birds, birds with elegant long tails and a raucous, comical call, then there are blackbirds (bigger than UK blackbirds) that tunefully whistle to me to get up at six in the morning. The dawn is well worth getting up for, as the sun comes up and lights up the hills and valleys, a performance not to be missed.

Warm during the day at 20 c then when the sunsets, temperature drastically drops to 8 c. I am thankful for my K2 down sleeping bag and my faithful little hot water bottle which I travel everywhere with. All in all, I get a very good night’s sleep, must be the high altitude and the complete silence, no background noise of motorways, car alarms or police sirens.

The general ambiance here, the layout of the village is a little like being at a permanent “Glastoburyesque” festival, except there are no major bands, no stages and the loos are a lot better here. Everything has a camping feel to it. The kitchen is outside, many of the houses are “half” built, still a lot of reconstruction taking place after the earthquake, the ground level is built and out the top of the cemented first layer are steel rods potentially taking the building to the next level. Construction is slow as most families tend they crops in order to feed themselves and sell if there is any excess. They might only have half a house, but they will share with you the fruit from their trees or vegetables from their plot of land and wish you “Namaste” as they pass you on the paths. The literal translation of the word “Namaste” breaks down into three parts...”Nama” means bow; “as” means I; and, “te ” means you. “ I bow to you”, or I bow to the Divinity in you.

The community spirit is peaceful and positive despite the extreme lack consumer goods and possessions, it is a true pleasure and honour to be part of. Everyone knows each other, there is a “big family” friendliness that permeates the whole village, everybody genuinely cares about each other and there is much socialising. The elderly are respected and some cultivate their parcel of land well into their seventies. The main occupation here is agriculture, the terraced landscape loans itself to a rotation of different crops.

At a risk of sounding cliched, the Nepali are quite striking and attractive people. The women all seem to have incredibly long, lustrous, shiny dark hair, which makes me feel quite inadequate with my short “Julie Andrew’s Sound of Music” haircut ! They rarely wear make up, and they don’t need to. The men are equally handsome, and both men and women are physically fit and strong, carrying themselves very gracefully. The main religion is Buddhism, and the colourful red, yellow, green, blue and white Tibetan prayer flags decorate every house as far as the eye can see, carrying prayers to heaven. Hinduism is also practised by some inhabitants, there is mutual respect between the two religions as they celebrate each others festivals.

In addition to these main religions there is also “Animist” or nature -worshipping traditions and shamanic practices. The village witch doctor or “jhankri” as he is called here, is most revered amongst the local community and called upon for different ceremonies when someone is ill. It is a respected tradition which has been passed down through grandfather, father and son. There are no women initiated into this practice. 

A witch doctor came to call last Saturday to cure a young child of epilepsy. It was a little girl of about eighteen months, whose parents are teachers at the school and live on site. The shaman said that the epilepsy was caused by light sensitivity. Some of the villagers here believe that drinking water when there is a rainbow in the sky can cause epilepsy.  

The “jhanki” was an elderly gentleman in his eighties, and sat on a mat in crossed legged lotus position busily making a concoction of ground animal bone, spring water and water ticks which he had caught fresh that morning in a jar. The mixture was then put into a tiny metal capsule and sealed. All this while he recited mantras and prayers, lit incense and wafted the smoke around the little girl who was in the arms of her mother. He also placed a banana leaf between himself and the child, on it he put four stripes of tika ( a red dye used to mark the forhead) and ash from the incense. The ceremony lasted 45 minutes, at the end he put the tiny capsule on a length of thread then put the thread around the neck of the little girl.

Afterwards he stayed for a cup of tea and an omelette, while we, his captivated audience or the “doubting Westerners”, bombarded him with questions about the efficacity of his cure. “Had he cured epilepsy before ?” “How did it work ?” etc etc,. Completely non- phased and indifferent to our interrogations, he spoke to us through the interpreter. We later learnt that he had successfully cured other epileptic children in the village who were now adults… Indeed here, I quickly understood that it’s an advantageous to keep an open mind and respect the local traditions.

Every country has it’s positive and negative attributes, beliefs, customs and practices. Here in Nepal, what is most laudable and humbling to me, and maybe to others incomprehensible, is that the majority of Nepali are contented and are at peace with their lives with what little they have. This “little” was reduced further after the earthquake in 2015, but their capacity for resilience, joy and inner peace I know without doubt has something to teach me.

This YouTube clip captures the essence of Nepal :

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zcz34Zd5MZs

Namaste, until next week …

From left to right; Madal, Buddhist drum, xylophone, shakers and chime bars

Some of the pupils artwork using natural materials found around the school.

Work in progress …

Morning assembly at Laigurash Bright Future English Boarding School.

Surprisingly, by a huge margin, Nepal is a Hindu country however Tibetan - style Buddhism prevails here, on the ridge tops and the High Himalayas.

Incredible journey, honoured arrival

A short 24 hour stay in Kathmandu, was spent visiting the revered and very spectacular Swayambhurath Stupa Temple, (see above photo). Climbing up and up the steps I counted dozens of dozing dogs lounging and soaking up the sunshine and their companions, the chattering monkeys, who would eagerly eye up and fly in the direction of anything remotely resembling food (children had been told specifically not to wave their ice creams wildly about). The peace was certainly palpable at this temple and felt a stillness as I reached the top and looked towards the whole of the city beneath me.

Alas ! The inner peace was not to last ! once leaving the city, we headed North East for the mountains to Mirge, Dolokha, where I would be working as a volunteer teacher, it felt like being on the edge of a mountain drop for 8 hours consistently. Up and up then down and down we went in a four wheeled drive, ascending then descending alternatively, on narrow mountain roads along with buses, cars, lorries and motorbikes coming in both directions. The cheerful, melodic tooting of the drivers as they passed each other, overtook or went round a bend, made me feel that there was a certain camaraderie which was quite uplifting and thankfully took my mind of the sheer drop on either side of the land-rover. Wow, I thought, maybe this could be a cure for road rage in the UK, cultivating patience in drivers by making them driving on thin, treacherous, mountainous knife- edged roads in Nepal…..well, just a thought.

Oh, must just add that we stopped for lunch at a rather “posh” road side restaurant, that had just been built, maybe for all the influx of trekkers into Nepal in recent years. Indeed, as we sat down to eat I spotted the trek guide, Wong - Chu, who accompanied Michael Palin for his programme “the Himalayas” on the Annapurna Circuit and Everest. I was most excited, what a stroke of synchronicity after posting the photo of Palin’s Himalayas book last week ! Yes I did respect Wong Chu’s privacy and right to dine in peace and quiet, did not ask for an autograph.

After a day’s bumpy ride I arrived rather dishevelled and worse for wear at the village school in Mirge, Dolakha. This school was rebuilt after the earthquake by money raised by sponsors Dot and Chris O’Brien, my travel partners who initially motivated me to volunteer at the school.

When we all finally arrived it was already dark and I felt disoriented and tired. I wheeled my collection of suitcases and guitar (unfortunately I still haven’t learnt the art of travelling light) to our sleeping quarters, I was sharing with a sponsor of the school, an energetic, generous young Chinese business woman, Jo Jo, who was on a three day visit to the school.

No sooner than I had started to unpack, my “monkey” mind took over; with a stream of interrogations; what am I doing here miles away from anywhere ? What do I hope to achieve ? What difference can I make, what can I offer ? Oh no, I can’t just pop out to Waitrose for a cappuccino and a slice of carrot cake, when I fancy… One by one my fears ganged up on me, determined to disrupt a potentially good night’s sleep.

Next morning I awoke to one of the most exceptional sights I have ever witnessed, the vast, Northern mountain ranges and foothills of the Himalayas with their deep, wide valleys in between. In these valleys the land was rugged and terraced which looked from a distance, like giant steps up to the mountain tops. No, I did’t burst into “The hills are alive….” with Julie, however against the backdrop of a perfect blue sky and warm sunshine, I started to feel better, I started to feel more peaceful and grateful.

That was just the beginning, myself and my travel partners gathered to watch the school’s assembly. The children sang the Nepali national anthem, marched around the playground and read out their daily devotions. At the end each child came forward and presented us with garlands upon garlands, bunches upon bunches of marigolds, the brightest mixture of oranges, yellows and reds, we were adorned in flowers. This is a Nepali tradition of honouring guests, I was both humbled and thrilled to have received such an abundance of flora from all of the schoolchildren, some of whom who have to walk two hours daily to come to school.

I have now been teaching here nearly a week, and I love it with a passion. The enthusiasm and motivation which the children have is a joy to share. ( I mean, you must be fairly motivated to learn if your getting up at 6.30am to walk to school for 8.30am ?) This is just the tip of the iceberg, I’m looking forward to my next few months here and hope to continue with this blog next week.

Thank you for sharing your comments and if you “like” this virtual travel journal.

This is me wearing all the garlands from the children !