Friends and neighbours

A very smooth journey back to Kathmandu via Delhi. The only casualty was one of David’s cans of varnish, bought to protect the already flaking paint on his beautifully crafted blocks for the nursery children. The entire contents of the bag, fortunately the small one, are now varnished. Its only the underpants that are likely to be a problem.
How easy it is to make the transition from the tranquillity of Bradford-on-Avon to the density and diversity of people, chaotic traffic and stench of diesel and rotting garbage in Kathmandu. The weather is depressingly similar; low cloud, grey skies, drizzle and heavy rain, but at least 10oC hotter. The traditional and modern sit easily side by side. As we drink delicious Himalayan coffee in our favourite Lazimpat café with our muesli, fruit, yogurt, toast and mountain wildflower honey, surrounded by young Nepalis with their laptops using the wifi to check e-mail, the egg seller arrives. She’s middle aged woman in red sari with splendid gold ear and nose rings with 24 egg trays each holding 2 dozen eggs strapped to her back. Free range of course. Rafi buys 2 trays.
We are warmly welcomed back at the VSO office; what we intended to be a short visit to announce our return turned into a whole day, as Purna and Rima wanted to talk about plans for the next few months. Rima’s maternity leave is imminent, and Purna starts his new job at VSO London in October. Lots to be completed before he goes; we find ourselves agreeing to do all kinds of things.
On Friday Purna and I went to NCED (National Centre for Educational Development), the lead organisation for teacher training, to meet Bishwanath, the Deputy Director. We want to build the relationship with VSO and try to establish a clearer role for volunteers in the development of teacher training. A wide ranging and at times difficult conversation produced no real outcomes. The future of teacher training and the role of NCED and the ETCs is uncertain. An adventurous return journey to the VSO office as the road was completely blocked. The taxi driver knew a short cut – of course. After 10 minutes struggle uphill on a dirt track, we hit a swamp in which a truck and a car were already stuck. With the help of stones, pieces of wood and lots of shoving we eventually moved them on, getting splattered with mud in the process. Our taxi driver got us through like a rally driver and kindly stopped at the water pump where the village women were washing themselves and their clothes so we could wash off the worst of the mud. Back at the VSO office just in time for the monthly education meeting, which generated lots more work to keep us busy until Purna arrives for a review meeting on September 8.
On Saturday August 30 we arrive at the airport with tickets for the 10:30 flight ‘home’. There is no 10:30 flight, and we are not listed at all. After a lot of patient smiling, the helpful man at the Buddha control centre manages to find two seats at 12:30. The domestic airport is always fascinating, especially out of the tourist season, with a diverse Nepali population returning to their villages with sacks, boxes, bulging plastic bags, huge suitcases and an occasional goat. Men and women in colourful embroidered clothes, with high cheekbones and weathered faces squat chanting with Buddhist prayer beads; Hindus sport elaborate tikkas from the temple for a safe journey.
When we eventually get airborne, the mountains are obscured by heavy cloud, but we are able to see the extent of the terrible flooding caused by the collapse of the levees of the massive Koshi river. 60,000 Nepalis and 4.5 million Indians in Bihar have been displaced and their rice crop lost. The Nepalis have been evacuated to Inaruwa, 20km from Biratnagar, but Inaruwa itself is now under threat of submersion. VSO is co-ordinating relief efforts with other international organisations and NGOs. The government appeal is likely to be less successful, as the newspaper headlines report that the money, food and other supplies ‘disappear’ . The floods have also brought down the towers supplying electricity to large parts of the country, and Biratnagar had none at all for two days. Now it is ‘occasional’. From cuts due to drought to those caused by too much rain in about a month.
As we got off the plane, we felt as if we had been muffled in a large, wet blanket, and we arrived home to find a white dog chained to the gate, a car wearing a plastic mac in the drive and festoons of washing. The children next door were fishing in the swampy water beside the house and shrieked greetings when they saw us. We met Pyel, a girl of about 16 and her mother, Rani. Neither admitted to speaking any English, but we exchanged smiles, greetings and introductions. We were alarmed to see that our water pump had been disconnected in favour of a picture of Shiva with flashing lights. The dog goes yip yip yip yip yip …….
Our flat seems to have survived the monsoon well; the mould, dead cockroaches, termite colonies, spiders’ webs, gecko poo and accumulated grime responded well to the hoover and the mop. The damp patch on the kitchen ceiling may take longer to fix. The plants are well, and there is enough basil to supply Jamie Oliver’s new chain of restaurants. The cows and buffaloes are sleek and fat from feasting on the lush vegetation. We walked to the market as our bike tyres were completely flat and our favourite man with pump takes the day off on Saturdays. Shopping took longer than usual as we had to greet everyone and recount tales of merry England in our rusty Nepali.
Normal life was resumed on Sunday; bikes given a makeover, cooking done, ice-cream made, Karna back from school to tell us all his news. We are dismayed to hear about the ‘teaching’ which consists of a series of different teachers coming to the class, writing on the board for 45 minutes, then going off to another college.
Having counted 19 people aged 75 to a few months old downstairs, the numbers supported by the extent of the washing lines and assorted vehicles (car, motorbike, 5 bicycles) we were delighted to discover that there are only 4 permanent residents – Pyel aged 16, her brother Abhishek, 13 and their parents, with several domestic servants, their children and a car driver. Pyel has got over her shyness and both children chat to us in excellent English, reflecting their privileged education at St Joseph’s. Unfortunately this has exacerbated the water crisis, especially when the car is being washed using a hose attached to our water tank. 24 hour power cut on Thursday / Friday stopped the water completely.
Daily swimming in afternoon sunshine has been a pleasure and a way of keeping clean. Particular excitement when a rat was discovered in the pool on Thursday and Shyam with a net, a mechanic and 2 chefs armed with metal spikes managed to hook it out of the pool. Instead of the expected clubbing to death, they tossed it over the wall. Expect to meet it again soon.
Tracey (Country Director) took us to dinner on Thursday evening; she is in the east visiting disability projects. Our friend Dinesh is back from Kathmandu and stranded as Kathmandu is currently only accessible by plane because of the floods.
Back at work
David has managed 1 ½ days in school this week, planning his schedule for the next few months. The other days schools were closed for the Teej festival. He spent those days using the remains of his varnish.
I arrived at the ETC on Monday, deserted except for Lalmani sitting on the steps in his vest and pants reading the newspaper. Gradually my colleagues arrived; they have had no real work since I left in mid July. Durga’s only excitement was a week’s visit to PLA (Maoist army) cantonments in the eastern Terai to set up an education access programme for young and not-so-young soldiers. Several itinerants seem to arrive for a mid morning sleep on the training room tables under a fan.
Tuesday was brightened by the delivery of small Hindu texts, so Tulsi sang most of the Bhagavad Gita in Sanskrit to us for the rest of the day. I have been taking staff photographs and making news boards – a big success. The logistical exercise of putting up photographs would make a fascinating time and motion study; this has prompted a general tidying up and an agreement that we will prepare the rooms ready for the new round of training (whenever that might be).
New carpets have been put down in all the offices; the carpet has been waiting in the storeroom for 5 years, so is a little mouldy around the edges. Having got new furniture and a new carpet, Durga has decided to do something about his office walls, which are covered in lists of training participants starting over 20 years ago. His name is there in 2047, the year his 18 year old daughter was born. The lists are of course riveted to the walls. Bhakta was brought in to remove the top nails, balancing on the tops of the windows. Durga had the foresight to turn off the fan to prevent a beheading. Concerted attacks with the claw hammer have brought down huge chunks of plaster – all over the new furniture and new carpet. It has made removal of shoes before treading on the carpet an irrelevance. I note that the brick that is used as a door stop has been covered in my ‘Old Macdonald’ song sheet.