Police procedure

Season of ants, cockroaches and orange and turquoise butterflies the size of dinner plates. Mobile crumbs scurrying across kitchen surfaces. Baby buffalo and ducklings. Handcarts of sliced water melon and cucumbers; children sucking luridly coloured frozen water on sticks.
We spent most of our first day home reporting our burglary to the police. Our friend Narayan came in the morning and we went together to the local police station, where two women in uniform were sitting cross legged on a bench spinning cotton. They were not very interested. A young man in a red T shirt emerged from a room where a manual typewriter clattered. He took a brief statement, then directed us to the district police office. We cycled north passed the birthday celebrations at the Hanuman temple and several wedding processions and after questioning were allowed into the yard at police HQ. There were several civilians in the yard taking statements from Nepalis; we were escorted across the road into a local tea shop, where we sat on rickety wooden benches painted sky blue beneath pictures of Shiva and Parvati and the royal family (not for much longer) accompanied by the smell of boiling milk. We were questioned (thank goodness for Narayan) and could manage part of the dialogue eg “tapaaiko security guard kahaa chha?” We are of course the only videshi with out a guarded house. Statement signed in triplicate by David. We then had to purchase a 5 rupee postage stamp to be fixed to the statement, and after paying 50 rupees baksheesh were taken back to the station. We walked along grubby corridors, past open boxes of rifles and dusty dogs sleeping in the shade to the inspector’s office, where he sat and read the newspaper. We waited on a saggy sofa while many people came in to have a look at us. The report was eventually ‘filed’ and a boy who looked about 12 appeared with a camera. I think he was a ‘detective’. Narayan brought him back to our house on his crossbar, where he took many photographs, checked all the locks and sat at our desk and wrote another report, again signed by David in triplicate. We await the next instalment. In the meantime, Chhatra’s (the landlord) sister has appeared to take care of repairs. She’s a retired primary head, and on her second visit brought her English speaking (privately educated of course) daughter.
Just time to plant some lettuces and get to the swimming pool to cool down. Surly but lovable Suresh has gone to Dubai to work, presumably not as a swimming pool attendant, and has been replaced by smiling Shyam. We finished our shopping at our Indian family grocery on the way home; new stocks of special treats for us, many of which we had brought with us as usual from Kathmandu, so had to buy duplicates. We were taken into the backyard to see their own Hanuman temple, decorated for his birthday with flowers, flashing lights and music.
Back to work on Monday. The new school year has started at Adarsha; Ramanath the head was organising assembly; tiny (grade 6) new children in oversized trousers bullied into lines. Big meeting at the ETC for DEO, NGOs, INGOs, teachers’ unions and political parties, to discuss recruitment for the new school year (already started, except in the schools where David is trying to work). Arjun, the DEO, made a rousing speech about the importance of quality education to keep children in school. ,A man with a big stick now guards the gate of Adarsha, presumably in the interests of retention.
My colleagues were full of election stories; most are happy that the polls were peaceful and that there has been a decisive result, even though the PR seats are not yet announced. The Maoists have won 120 of the 240 first past the post seats. Anil and Govind were polling officers in Rangeli and had to wait from 6pm when polls closed until their transport arrived at 4am the following morning, besieged by YCL and madhesi cadres trying to tamper with the ballot boxes. Durga walked 1 ½ hours to his polling station to find no accommodation or food, and had to spend 2 nights on the floor and beg food from local families.
Primary training started on Tuesday for 2.5 months, which will take me through to the summer. Attempts to forward plan have failed. We started 2 hours late as we had to wait for the DEO to lead the speeches. I declined to make one. Durga started the training well but had to go on ‘other business’ on Wednesday, so Umapati was drafted in at the last minute. We started the day with both groups together to sing the national anthem. This was repeated many times, accompanied, unaccompanied, music fade in (just like ‘I’m sorry I haven’t a clue’), half class, other half, all together …. led by Govinda, looking like a craggy skewbald pony after using both henna and black dye unsuccessfully on his white hair. I have managed to learn everyone’s names as a ‘model of good practice’.
Load shedding now for 4 hours every morning and 3 hours each evening, plus sporadic power cuts each day; we miss the cooling effect of the fans most. Candles make it even hotter. The whole city has a water problem now, but not as desperate as Kathmandu. We were spoiled by accumulation of water during our absence that kept us going for the first few days. Now we have water outside for 3 hours a day. We are trying to work out when the 3 hours are so one of us can come home to fill buckets. It should get better when the monsoon starts, but that’s still 2 – 3 months away.