Another new experience. Nepalis do not go on holidays or do ‘anything nice at the weekend’, so opportunities for conversation were limited, especially as the hairdresser did not speak any English. I managed to establish chhotto (short). Thinned out was more of a challenge, as I only know dublo (thin person). Eventually we established jasto keta (like a boy). After that, the conversation was rather one sided, as she talked and chopped ferociously with some very large scissors and a long handled comb, which spent a great deal of time sticking in my ear, or more painfully, my eye. Soon I was holding up my hands and saying pugyo (enough), and when that failed rocknos! (stop!), but she was intent on jasto keta, and I emerged shorn after half an hour for a very reasonable 50 rupees (38p).
Dinesh delivered by our bamboo furniture by handcart early on Tuesday morning. The next task is to get some cushions made with raw cotton stuffing and bright material from one of the many fabric shops in Main Road. We have also acquired a printer, as VSO decided that the ‘eastern cluster’ needed one. It took 2 weeks to get it across the Indian border, but is now established in our ‘hi-tech’ corner. The heat and humidity create frequent paper jams. Long print runs will have to wait until winter.
Meanwhile, the building work at the house is nearly finished, although more whitewash is liberally applied to David’s clean windows most days. Chhatra and his wife have moved into the flat downstairs. His 80 year old father has come from Dharan to stay, and sits smiling on the porch. Chhatra and his father are into the last month of a year’s mourning for his mother. They both wear traditional Hindu white mourning lungis and vests and keep their heads shaved. A team of carpenters has been working for a week making new furniture for them. The upstairs flat has been rented to a young Nepali journalist working for the BBC World Service. He has a motorbike. There is a progression in signs of affluence from bicycle, to television, mobile phone, memory stick, and motorcycle.
The first wet morning this week. Ducks and ducklings splashed happily in the puddles as I cycled to work, getting wet from the inside out from my new rain gear. I think the reverse is probably preferable. Most people ride their bicycles with an umbrella clutched in one hand; I haven’t yet mastered this technique. The cycle rickshaws are covered in sheets of plastic, and the women bunch up their saris around their knees. There is a drought in Morang (our district) as the monsoon is so late. Only 20% of the paddy has been planted.
There are examinations in Adarsha all week (the school adjoining the ETC) for students completing a 10 month primary teacher training in private colleges. ETC staff are responsible for the conduct of the exams. Cheating is rife in Nepali examinations, as is intimidation of invigilators and markers, and ETC staff are working hard to establish new standards. The first task is to clear friends and ‘helpers’ of the candidates away from the buildings, settle the students at opposite ends of the fixed wooden benches, and persuade the invigilators to watch the students rather than talk on their mobile phones or chat to each other on the balcony. Rudra, wearing his topi (traditional Nepali cap) at a jaunty angle and looking Van Gogh-like, having inflicted nasty damage to his ear while shaving, takes me on a tour of the 8 exam rooms. Several students have notebooks on their laps and edge towards their friends. More young people appear at the doors with notes, but generally its quiet and orderly. Invigilators take the notes, screw them into a ball and throw them over the balcony.
Thursday was budget day, and most people went home early to hear the news on the radio. All government employees will have a 27% increase next month, which starts on Tuesday. (I thought it was Monday, having not realised that this month has 32 days). Teachers are moderately pleased, although they are sceptical about whether they will receive it. Primary teachers currently earn £46 a month, with an extra £2.30 for the head. One of my colleagues has not been paid since he was transferred from Kathmandu 2 years ago. The budget is aid dependent, and many countries are not releasing money until security is better and the political situation more stable.
Anjana has taken me shopping for new clothes this week. £2.50 for a 3 piece kurta set in brilliant colours, plus 70p for making up. Better than the summer sales.
On Saturday we will attempt to go to India to get our visas stamped – a pre-requisite for applying for a new one next month.