After some time

Ke samaya pachhi (after some time) is the standard answer to any ‘when’ question:
when will Rudra go to Sagarmatha? Ke samaya pachhi
when should the budget come? Ke samaya pachhi
when will training start? Ke samaya pachhi
when can we start to set up the resource centre? Ke samaya pachhi
when will the schools re-open? Ke samaya pachhi
Some of the schools have started again this week, so every morning I am caught in the ‘school run’. For most children this is a gentle amble, chatting and laughing. A few are accompanied by their mothers in brilliantly coloured saris. Some balance precariously on their father’s bike; I have counted up to five on the cross bar of one bicycle. Private schools provide some transport; rickety buses bellowing diesel fumes for secondary students, three wheeled bikes with a brightly painted tin box on the back for primary children. Up to twenty children are crammed into the box, big brown eyes staring out through a metal grill, school bags piled precariously on the roof. All children wear uniform, ranging in colour from trying-to-be-white, to blue, an unbecoming brown and vibrant lilac and orange. A regimentally striped tie is a feature of all uniforms. This is particularly bizarre in a country where adults never wear ties. Footwear ranges from nothing, to rubber flipflops, white knee socks and trainers and the occasional pair of tiny wellingtons.
This week Tulsi celebrated his 25th year of government service, with visitors from all over the region, photographs, endless glasses of tea, and lots of ‘conversation’. He is suffering from the heat here; I found him lying on his sofa with a newspaper over his head on Friday afternoon. Lalmani and Bhakta have set up the furniture in the new training rooms. I am looking forward to rearranging it. The newsboard is taking shape, and I have finished translating and printing an English version of the lesson observation form that David and I will use in September. Durga and I have been planning our session for the VSO Teaching and Learning Conference this week in both English and Nepali. We will, of course, start with a Nepali song! More cows have appeared on the school field to crop the profusion of juicy grass after the rains. A funfair blaring loud music has set up at the stadium field opposite the ETC. It makes me almost grateful for the daily power cuts, although the heat is almost intolerable when the fans stop whirring.
We have now dried out after the rains, but there are still problems in many parts of the Terai and VSO is contributing to relief work. The temperature here approaches 40oC most days, and hardly drops at night. I had my first puncture this week, repaired in 10 minutes by a friendly old man in vest and lungi, who also cleaned and oiled the bike, adjusted brakes, chain and wheel alignment and charged me 10 rupees (7 ½ p).
We hope the outside painting at home is now finished so we can hang out our washing again. The house now looks like a very grand pink and white birthday cake. Tara’s request for ‘cherry blossom’ trim got rather out of control. Chhatra and Tara departed suddenly on Monday evening for Dharan before another ‘indefinite’ bandh started on Tuesday. Tanka and his wife have gone to Ilam on his motorbike, so we are alone with Karna, who has been instructed to ‘look after us’. He was waiting up for us on Friday, after we went late night shopping in the market, followed by a dosa and icecream. We cycled home by starlight, avoiding the herds of cows gathered outside the vegetable market, feasting on the remains of the day’s produce.
The town is full of pilgrims in brilliant orange lungis and saris travelling from India to the Shiva festival in Dharan, but stranded by the bandh. Our plans for the weekend are cancelled as there is no transport. Even the market is closed today.
Next week we are going to Kathmandu. We have to renew Indian visas, have booster vaccinations, I have a committee meeting, David has shopping (!), we have 6 more days of language school, then the VSO Conference. Durga and Tulsi will come to join me, and David expects Harinandan to come. We will enjoy seeing other volunteers and hearing about their experiences, but will miss our home.
When we will return from Kathmandu? Ke samaya pachhi.