To work ... or not

All the schools in the country are closed indefinitely. The District Education Office (David’s placement) in Biratanagar has been closed for 8 days. The School Management Committees (equivalent of governors) have now become SMAC (A=agitation) and have locked the schools and taken the keys to the DEO, refusing to reopen schools until all demands are met. No-one seems very clear about what the demands are, but today’s paper reports that there are 473 of them.
However, on Monday (May 21) we were delighted that at the education partners workshop, each organisation managed to send 2 representatives. There were 8 volunteers (4 male and 4 female) with 16 male Nepalis, emphasising the gender issues here! Rudra and Durga from Biratnagar ETC had come with a carefully prepared work plan for my first 5 months. Enough work for 5 years at least. The DEO seems to be expecting David to solve all his computer and data collection problems, so he feels less positive about the day. The plan for us to return with them tomorrow has not materialised, as they have ‘business’ to attend to in Kathmandu. The DEO is expected to send their jeep to Biratnagar airport, as there are no taxis. The “how will the driver know them” question resulted in much laughter, as there are apparently no other vidhyeshi in town. I will go to the office for ‘introductions’ on Friday.
Tuesday May 22. An inauspicious start to our departure day. A photograph of teachers burning an effigy of the Minister of Education in Biratnagar dominated the front page of the Kathmandu Post. Purna phoned at 8am to tell us there is a bandh in Biratnagar, so there will be no jeep to meet us at the airport, but he thinks there may be cycle rickshaws. We’ll see. Back to the newspaper, which also reports that the idol at Bhimeshwor temple has started sweating, a sure sign that some disaster is about to happen. Comforting though, to find on the back page that ‘Armed Police win Kathmandu cup’. An uneventful taxi ride to the domestic airport, where Europeans heading for the mountains mingled with Nepali business men, sherpas with trekking provisions and elderly Tibetan nuns. I woke up the young woman in Ladies’ Security to stamp my boarding card and someone shouted in Nepali when flights were about to depart. A decrepit Buddha Air bus trundled us along the runway as an incoming flight skimmed overhead, and we boarded the 19 seater plane. We were given sweets to suck and cotton wool for our ears before take off. We bounced alarmingly upwards through the clouds, to be rewarded by stunning views of the Himalayas, as we followed them eastwards while warm Mirinda was poured into plastic cups for us. As we emerged from the cloud base after an equally bouncy descent we had our first sight of the Terai. Brilliant green rice paddy, irrigation ditches, field of crops, cattle, oxen, buffalo, goats, and small thatched villages.

Welcome to Biratnagar alt 263’ (Swagatam Biratnagar)
As anticipated, there were no jeeps at the airport, but many predatory cycle rickshaws with a captive market. My bargaining skills achieve no reduction, but we did secure two reasonably sturdy machines for the 5km journey with our luggage. And what a wonderful journey! The road was lined with vermilion flame trees, shocking pink bourganvillea and creamy frangipani alive with butterflies the size of sparrows. There were mangoes and lychees dripping from the trees, fruiting bananas and coconut palms. Brightly painted bill boards advertised Mahindra tractors and Shuka Luka noodles. The only other vehicles on the road were ox carts, and we arrived hot and excited at the Ratna Hotel. The Ratna has pretensions – charming receptionists with excellent English, the ability to correct our Nepali politely and draw maps; toilet paper with proper perforations; WiFi and fuzzy satellite TV; frequent calls from room service to see if we need anything.
In our first 2 days we have walked the town (several times); opened a bank account (2 hours in the manager’s office); got SIM cards (2 visits to NTC, complex form filling in Devanagri script – name, father’s name, grandfather’s name, photograph, signature and 2 thumbprints); found the excellent fruit and vegetable market; met several Indian shopkeepers who plied us with drinks and sweets; spoken to about half the population; found the swimming pool at the Xenial hotel; and asked a variety of helpful people about accommodation. It feels like a small country town, not an industrial city of 200,000. We have seen 3 cars.
In our wanderings this afternoon we visited a Hindu temple with accommodation and a school for Dalit children. We were invited to join their festival celebrations in the evening and arrived about 6:30 to the sound of drums and singing. Within seconds of our arrival, I had several dozen excited children sitting on me asking questions in a mixture of Nepali and English. Soon afterwards the electricity went off, and the temperature rose from a bearable 39 to an unbearable 45. By this time we were dancing, but managed to escape with a promise to return later in the week. We found our way back lit by dancing fireflies, surprising several puppy-sized frogs on the way. Joseph had called while we were out, having just arrived back from Kathmandu; he is known as kaalo manche (the black man). I am sure that David will be called aglo manche as he is a foot taller than anyone else in town. I am normal size for a Nepali woman.
The good news in today’s paper is that 2 goats have been slaughtered for the Bhimeshwor idol, and the sweaty cloth used to wipe it’s forehead has been delivered to the PM instead of the king. Although there is a fairly heavy police presence (a few guns, more big sticks) here, most of them are eating watermelon and icecream in the shade to try and keep cool.