More on Nepal... In photos

Here's a little more on my trip to Nepal. There are probably a few more installments to come.

The first few pictures are from a jungle area in the Terai. Just days before I arrived, there was a huge general strike staged by the Madhesi people that went on for about 2 weeks. Their main issues were around autonomy and representation; they were protesting the rather Kathmandu-centric nature of the old Nepal Congress government, especially in terms of economic investment outside of the Kathmandu Valley. Their strike was felt all over Nepal as they were able to shut down the main trade route between India and the capital. Weeks after the strike was over, food prices were still pretty high (not just because of global inflation), and petrol was still so scarce that gas stations in Kathmandu were being guarded by the military and people would queue for a day or two fill up their tanks... Needless to say, this was an area that was swept by Maoists, and some of the more regional parties like the Madhesi Jana Adhikar Forum (MJF) during the elections.

When I was there, however, none of this was really evident and most people were reluctant to talk about (probably because the strikes are bad for tourism and most of the people I came into contact with make all of their money from tourists). And so I give you the tourist photos:

village houses near the entrance to Chitwan National Park.

That's me, "driving" the elephant on the last leg of our elephant safari in Royal Chitwan National Park.

endangered one horned white rhino, Royal Chitwan National Park
(dinosauric, ain't it?)

That's me giving the elephant a "bath."

Elephant Bath Time, Royal Chitwan National Park

Early morning canoe ride, Royal Chitwan National Park



Late afternoon elephant watering, Royal Chitwan National Park

A typical Tibetan monastery, Bodhnath, Nepal

Bodhnath
This is a Tibetan stupa just outside of Kathmandu. The day I went there, I remember feeling very at peace with the world. Even if you aren't a spiritual or religious person, you can't deny the energy of a place like this. Pilgrims swing prayer wheels and chant mantras as they walk around the stupa, all in the same direction. Masum and I tried to walk around in the opposite direction, but didn't make it very far before we, too, decided to go with the flow.

Lessons from Nepal

I've been thinking a lot, trying to figure out how I can synthesize everything I learned in Nepal into one piece of writing that makes sense if it is read all together. But the fact of the matter was, the way I was spending my days and the way I was spending my nights was so completely different, that I don't know that it makes sense to write about as one experience.

On the one hand, I had the experience that I've been writing about here. The heartache, the healing-- the emotional journey that I've been on for the last two years came to an end. In Nepal, I was able to wrap up such a messy relationship into a nice neat box for me to put in the corner of my heart and the corner of my mind, where it can collect dust. I'll store it in a place where I can take it out and look at it with curiosity and detachment when it suits me; a place that's far enough to remain unseen, but close enough to not be forgotten. Yes, Nepal gave me closure.

And then there was everything else in Nepal. The everything that made me fall in love with a country, a place and a time that was exciting, intellectually stimulating, spiritual, nurturing, fun... But how do you pluck a story or an experience out of thin air and get it right, make it meaningful without telling the entire story? How could I begin to write about the time Pratit took me to his grandfather's house in this little Gurung village in the foothills of the Annapurnas without explaining my relationship to Pratit, his mother, or how his family defies traditional family structure in Nepal, or about how his grandfather's life is ruled by ritual and routine (is there a difference?); I would have to write about what the house looked like, how the white capped mountains hovered so close I thought I could understand why people believe in god... I would have to write all of that for anyone to understand the feeling I got as we sat eating daal bhat inside his old mud and brick house under a single light bulb, our eyes stinging from the smokey cook-fire; We sat there eating and he, his grandfather (who kept giving us sly looks as he cooked dinner) was not eating, but praying, making an offering to the small shrine he had in the corner of the house next to his bed, next to the cook-fire, which was next to me. How can I write all that and still not tell the story?

And then there was Saobin, a young man from the Terai who worked at the hotel I was staying. My first day there, the owner of the hotel, Devendra, said to me: "Look how he walks. So slow. Like a rhino." We laughed. And I watched. Saobin did all of the work of the hotel. He cleaned the rooms, he ran errands, washed laundry, made tea, took care of the garden... Devendra did nothing. He played cards, talked, gave orders. I watched. Saobin was shy. He had a sweet smile and he twitched a lot. He worked hard. I took to calling him 'babu', which I guess means baby or child, but I wasn't making fun- I really felt motherly towards him. I noticed there was something wrong. The last day, I asked about it. I was told that he used to live in a village in the jungle. He was a hunter. One day as he was hunting, he came across some Nepalese soldiers. They accused him of being a Maoist. He had a gun. They beat him senseless. Now he has trouble communicating. And now by telling that story, I've cheated Saobin because I've left out the context. The details. The other players. It's not complete.

To tell my story in Nepal I have to tell the stories of at least 10 others. I have to tell the story of a country in the midst of change, a hopeful time not only for Nepali people, but for myself as well. Because in the end I guess I learned that we can be reborn through our struggles and that my story depends not on myself, but on who tells it. And that we should never be careless with that power.

Writings from Nepal... Bracing

Pokhara, March 23, 2008

Yesterday, Pratit asked me what I've learned from my time in Nepal. My smart ass answer was water conservation, but I wonder what it really was? That I can live without Masum? That I was crazy to believe in him? That he was too central to my existence in Korea? I don't know.

For long breaths, I feel over him, but occasionally as I breath in, I feel his memory taking a quick stab at my heart, making me feel confused, bitter, angry and sad... And then I exhale, and the thought, the memory and the feeling is gone. Sometimes I feel like holding my breath, holding that feeling. Holding the moment until I have to let it go.

Nepali Election Photos

Here's a link from the NY Times. The pictures are beautiful. The pictures are hopeful.

And two articles on the elections: one and two.

I wish I was there.

Writings from Nepal... Attachment

Pokhara, March 17, 2008

How easily a person clings; how easily a person breaks. I feel like if I start crying, it's never going to end. I've kept a fairly calm composure for almost a week- if I can keep it up, maybe I'll become hard and numb inside. I really don't want to feel anything right now. Except fullness. And that's not possible.

Loneliness must be the most fundamental part of being human- and our struggle against loneliness may be the only thing that ever really unites us in the end. At least, that's when it doesn't break us completely.

Oh how I miss Masum. How I miss the idea we created of our lives together. The injustice of it all breaks my heart. And he, too, breaks my heart.

Writings from Nepal...Healing

Pokhara, March 12, 2008

I left Masum three days ago. It seems like it has been months. Maybe I have only partially realized that Sunday was the final goodbye, or maybe I was prepared, but I'm shocked at how few tears I've cried. Maybe we've already had too many "final" goodbyes to believe that was really it... I feel lonely and am thankful that so far I've been able to surround myself with people. I guess after I say goodbye to Raju, Gom and Pratit, maybe everything will sink in.

I've though I'm sad and heartbroken, and feeling cheated, some part of me knows that it is time to move on. The relationship I had with Masum would have never worked in the real world. A world where we were married and had kids, jobs (that we got paid for), responsibilities. In this situation, it's hard to tell which world was real and which world was a fantasy. What a surreal life I've been living...

On Nepal... Kathmandu in Pictures

This is an awesome food stall near Durbar Square.

These old Newari temples and buildings are everywhere in Kathmandu. This is in Durbar Square, the former seat of the King's power, now UNESCO world heritage site. Most of the buildings here date back to before the 17th century.

This sadhu hangs around Durbar Square mostly for the benefit of the tourists (and himself). Foreigners take pictures of him and then he asks them for money. Or sometimes he blesses you (by smearing some red paste on your forehead) and then demands 200 rupees. All sadhus don't do that, but the ones who hang out in the tourist areas and charm snakes tend to be a bit snake-like themselves.

This old man was resting at the top of a temple- a popular place for locals to hang out during the day.

Honestly, I have no idea what she's selling. Medicine? Herbs?

Cute chubby little girl

This is a very small temple in Durbar Square. In Kathmandu, you can't turn around with seeing people praying, or making a puja (offering). There are temples everywhere and everyone seems to be religious, or at least superstitious. In Nepal, Hinduism seems to predominate, but there are a lot of Buddhists as well. It is often difficult to tell who is who because a lot of the temples and shrines seem to honor every Nepalese religious tradition. I started learning to distinguish between gods, whether I was looking at something was Hindu or Buddhist, Nepalese Buddhism or Tibetan, but it definitely takes some serious studying to get it all right.

Garland Vendors in Durbar Square

This is a political rally in Durbar Square. Throughout my month in Nepal, I saw people campaigning for the elections (mostly Moaists, but other parties were also visible). This, I think, was a business owners association. It was weird to see banners and billboards attached to such ancient buildings.

This only covers part of day one. Stayed tuned for more installments...

On Nepal... The Introduction

The beginning of my adventure in Nepal can best be described through pictures. I was with Masum and we were, for the most part, avoiding talking about anything too seriously-- namely us, his life at home and my return to America. We had sad moments and serious moments, and seriously sad moments, but we spent our time together around the Kathmandu Valley very much like we spent our time together in Korea: In Denial. So we ran off to this place and that; we visited friends and ate delicious food. We pretended like everything was fine. And then we said good bye. For good.

The good bye was, well, anticlimactic. I was to get on a bus to Chitwan, a national park in the Terai, and he was to get on an airplane back to Dhaka. I nearly missed my bus, so our goodbye was rushed- a quick kiss while throwing my bag on the top of the bus and rushing to find the last seat. As the bus pulled away I waved to him as he watched, and I remember thinking, "was that really it?" I was sad, but quickly distracted by a gaggle of Russian tourists who were complaining about their seats and demanding that an elderly Nepalese man sit in the worst, most uncomfortable seat on the back of the bus because they didn't want to. I was enraged at their back of the bus comments and started battling immediately, calling them out in front of the whole bus, but to no avail. The bus attendant acquiesced and I sat there fuming and boring holes into the back of the rude Russian's head with my evil eye for the entire 6 hour ride. Distraction was the first coping mechanism I had to deal with the end of me and Masum.

I think it's safe to say that I spent the rest of my time in Nepal examining not only my time spent in with Masum (in Korea and Nepal), but my life in general and wondering how I was going to move forward- emotionally, intellectually, professionally. How the hell was I going to move forward? I don't know that found any real answers, but I did find some comfort in a new friendship. My old friend Raju introduced me to Pratit, mostly I think because Pratit's English is so darn good. But what Raju didn't know is that Pratit and I have an awful lot in common and that Pratit's company, and then his friendship, provided for me a kind of intellectual and emotional cocoon that went a long way in helping my tired broken heart to heal. And for that accidental gift, I must thank Pratit.

So thus begins my little project 'On Nepal'. The first part of my journey is documented through pictures and the second is documented through writing. Maybe the electricity will stay on in Pokhara long enough for Pratit to send me some of the photos I took while I was with him, but until that time, you'll have to bear my clumsy words...

On Belonging... or not

I've arrived. I've been in Vermont for just about two days. It doesn't feel good. It doesn't feel bad. I just kind of feel like I'm waiting for something to happen. I'm waiting for something to click. I'm waiting to fall into place.

I arrived home to a brand new niece and two very tired brand new parents. It's not that they weren't happy about seeing me, it's just that they are filled with the sleep deprived wonder and excitement of having a 6 day old infant. And so my normal position at center stage was already filled. No one wanted me to regal them with stories of adventure and daring in Nepal. No one asked about what happened with Masum when I met him in Kathmandu. Not only that, but they don't even seem to need any help.

I think this is supposed to be my home, but I just kind of feel like an extra person hanging around in someone else's house. It doesn't feel like my space. I don't feel free to do whatever, whenever. I want to give their new family space, but I also want to be a part of it. But I'm not.

It's kind of the same with my friends. I guess three years is a long time to be gone. They've all changed and moved on, and so have I. But I haven't moved on in Burlington. I feel stuck in the past here and I don't quite understand the circles that people are moving in now, or what happened to the posse I used to roll with. I want to be a part of what's happening here, but I'm not.

Not only that, but when I look around me, I feel somewhat disgusted by what I see. There is so much stuff, so much food, so many resources. Last night at this party I went to, we turned off the lights for an hour because it was some kind of international turn off your lights day or something. Okay, that's good. Let's all be aware about energy conservation. But everyone thought it was so romantic and interesting and like they were doing something important, and I'm just sitting there thinking about what over-privileged jerks we are. As though one hour on day is going to make a difference. Why not do it every day? For more than an hour?

I hate to admit this, but right now I feel a lot of contempt for America. I resent the comfort, the excess, the ease with which dollars slip out of your hand and into a store or restaurant, and then somehow back into your hand. I resent all of the procreation that's going on-- there are so many babies filling up a world that it already too full. And I think that the procreation is mostly out of vanity. Our vain and selfish desire to see ourselves in someone else. And maybe even our most basic struggle against loneliness. This whole lifestyle baffles me. But maybe only because it eludes me. Maybe what I'm feeling is not contempt, but jealousy.

Right now, I feel like I could show up to any corner of the globe and be faced with the same problem: Wherever I am, I'm going to have to start over. Wherever I am, I'm going to have to find a way to make myself belong again. I wonder if the "where" is even important at all? I guess I have to figure how to relate to this corner of the world again. And that means I have to shrug off all this contempt and stop being so damn judgemental of the way Americans live their lives.

i'm not dead. i'm in nepal.

and it is amazing.

back in about a month...

bjork: the cutest little alien you've ever seen

Saw bjork on her Volta tour tonight. The set list?

01. Intro - Brennið Þið Vitar
02. Earth Intruders
03. Hunter
04. Aurora
05. All Is Full Of Love
06. Jóga
07. Hope
08. The Pleasure Is All Mine
09. Vertebrae By Vertebrae(!)
10. Desired Constellation
11. Army Of Me
12. Innocence
13. Bachelorette
14. Vokuro
15. Wanderlust
16. Hyperballad
17. Pluto

encore
18. Anchor Song
19. Declare Independence


Got that off of a website-- but really more than half of the songs were new and I haven't heard the new album in its entirety yet, so a lot of it was a dive into the industrial computer age brass orchestra ambience of unknown bjork. The outfit? Spectacularly ugly and weird, as anticipated (it looked like a one big iridescent ruffle). The band she was with? Nearly as unique as she is. The stage? The design was unpleasantly assymetrical with flags hanging at random places on the stage (maybe for her song, Declare Independence) with big television screens so you could watch the jestsons-era dj work his magic. The total effect? An awesomely amazing concert that took you down and brought you up and ended in an unexpectedly huge dance party. Bjork is kind of raw and in your face yet sweet and sensual at the same time. And she's the cutest darn alien you've ever seen. I don't think there is any one on the planet who can compete with bjork's cool. It's just not possible.

So Sick

Really, I feel like air from a factory stack was pumped into my lungs and then I was hit by a train. I'm sweating and I'm freezing. I can barely get out of my bed to use the bathroom. I think my throat was actually bleeding this morning from all of my coughing (but I didn't examine it, it just tasted like blood in my mouth). And there is no food and not much drinkable water in my house... WAAHH! I'm so thirsty!

It used to be if I got sick in Korea that there were people to take care of me. In Suwon a group of gals complete with its own motherly hen would look after any mangled party, and after Suwon, there was Masum. He would call me like a 100 times a day, bring me Indian food, give me massages and make sure I wasn't alone for too long. And now I just feel sick and lonely and a little helpless. I'm not sure that anyone would notice if I didn't emerge from my apartment for the next three days. Or the next three months for that matter. Well, I guess my school would be concerned if I didn't show up for work. It just feels so lonely. And so sick. WAAAHHHHHHHH! I want Masum! WAH! I want to go home! WAH! I want someone to bring me some food and water! WAH! This sucks.

Anxiety and Freedom

I spent yesterday evening with one of my favorite people in Korea, my good friend and former roomate, Kang Yong. No matter what is going on in my life, Kang Yong can always get a smile out of me and yesterday was no exception. His humor is subtle and he actually speaks quietly and not all that often, but he has a way of making me think. And here are some of the things I realized when I hung out with him yesterday:

*Going home does make me feel anxious. Because even though I'm excited about being in Vermont, it seems like it's going to be a hard place to live. How can I make enough money to stay there? (or what if I can't make enough money to get out again?) What if I can't afford health insurance? What happens if I get sick or hurt? While those things didn't concern me all that much 10 years ago, they are very important to me now. Living and working in the United States kind of represents for me a return to financial instability and insecurity.

*BUT I am American, and I'm a native English speaker, which basically means that I have the freedom to go just about anywhere and get a job. And make a decent amount of money while I'm at it. And what that means is that I am already thinking about where I can go next. It's not as though I already have a plan in my head, it's just that I have trouble picturing myself in Vermont past late fall. For one thing, I hate winter there and for another if I have a farm job, it means I'll be unemployed again. God, unemployed. Again. I'm so sick of uttering those words.

*I am boring myself. WW Out.

Lessons

*this is from a letter I wrote to Masum not so long ago

Really I don't know why I'm writing to you now. I can't sleep. I feel sad. And lonely. And totally awake. But I guess I wanted to tell you something.

Even though I can't understand the way that your family is behaving, this whole situation has in some strange way really helped me understand my childhood. More specifically, it has helped me understand the kinds of choices that my father, and my mother to some extent, had to make. Choosing between love, family, happiness and children is never easy. It seems like those things shouldn't be in opposition to one another, but all too often, they are. In fact, in a lot of cases, like in my family, the choices are quite impossible. When I was a child, my father chose his happiness and hoped that his children would understand. And well, we didn't. We didn't understand at all. We felt abandoned and alone and I grew up mostly feeling like I didn't have a father. My father's decision was a little more complicated than that and he made a lot of mistakes, but now I see that there was probably nothing that he could have done to make me happy or to make feel like I was still important to him.

I guess what I mean is that children don't really have the ability to accept the complexity of the decisions that adults make. And that while I'm sorry about the fact that you have to give up love, that in the end, Neeha will really respect you for it. I hope that one day you can have a frank conversation with Neeha about your relationship with me and how we came to be in Korea. And I hope she can appreciate the sacrifice you made so that you can get to know her. I hope she can find out about the man that I knew when he was here because it would be a shame for her to miss out on that person.

I also hope that when Neeha falls in love, you will do all you can to support her decision, whatever it is. Even if you think it's the wrong decision. Just because you and your wife were cheated, doesn't mean that she should be, too. So please, just try to accept it. Because even though love makes us stupid, it also makes us happy, in a miserable sort of way. And everyone deserves a chance. Don't judge your daughter the way that your family has judged you. If you did that, our relationship would really be a wasted experience.

And I'm sure that my father is thanking you right now. Because for the first time, I really feel like I can forgive him for all the mistakes he made when I was a child. For the first time, I feel like I can understand what he was up against. So even though we aren't together anymore, maybe we have both managed to salvage a relationship- strangely me with my father and you with your daughter...I guess we should be thankful for that.

I can't tell you how much it breaks my heart to try and accept this situation. Just when I think I'm doing okay, I get swept up in a torrent of emotion and when that happens, I know that I just have to ride it out. I miss you terribly. And for some stupid reason, I still hold onto the glimmer of hope that something in this situation will change. But don't worry, I don't have any expectation that it will, and I'm doing my best to put us behind me, no matter how much I don't like it.

It just feels so unfair because before you, I could never imagine actually trying to spend my life with a person. And now I just can't imagine trying to live without you. I'm not sure how to fill the emptiness that I feel now that you're no longer a part of my life. I can't imagine finding another person who could take your place. Maybe I'm just destined to be a lonely wanderer forever.

Anyway, I hope your beautiful daughter is helping to fill the void in your life. At least you have her to come home to everyday....

As always, your jaan

I've been getting over it

I'm back in Korea. I've been back for nearly a month.

Well, the drama that has been my life for the last 2 years is nearly over. When I came back to Korea, I learned that Masum, through some feat of emotional blackmail on the part of his family, decided that he couldn't divorce his wife because he would lose not only his daughter, but his whole family. I'm totally at loss. I just can't understand the situation and my only consolation is that he sounds absolutely miserable. Maybe that sounds awful for me to say, but really, my heart is totally broken and if I thought he was actually happy with the situation, I would really be questioning why I ever tried sticking with him in the first place. I guess I'm questioning that anyway, but you know, him being miserable makes the question a little easier for me to answer.

I guess I was really angry at him. But now I just feel really sad. I'm sad because his family didn't even try to understand. They don't seem to care about his happiness at all; all that matters is his obligation to his family. I feel angry that I remain so powerless in the situation and that no amount love makes a difference. Culture and family are forces that love just can't compete with in this situation. I mean even the Bangladeshi friends who know me said that he should ditch me for his wife and do whatever his mother told him to do.

I feel totally pathetic because I'm still holding onto some lingering hope that he'll change his mind and tell his family to get over it. And that after he does that, his family will eventually forgive him and at least accept the situation even if they don't like it. But I know deep down that it'll never happen and it's a waste of time to fantasize about being with him again. But it's just so hard because it wasn't so long ago that we were talking about marriage and babies and where we'd want to live. He asked me to help him figure out how he could get a visa and a job in another country, and I did that. I had a plan. Actually I had lots of plans, all he had to do was divorce his wife.

And now I'm just trying to figure out what to do with myself. I've spent so much time over the last two years making plans that include Masum that now I feel a little bit overwhelmed with the fact that the world is wide open and that he isn't part of the plan anymore. Honestly, I don't even want to think about that reality, but that's what it is now. I've been falling apart for the last month and now I'm trying to put the pieces back together, but I don't even know where to begin.

I only have a month left in Korea. I bought my plane ticket outta here last week and that has done a lot for my mental state. And I didn't just buy any ticket. I'm going to Nepal for a month before I return to America because frankly the thought of returning to Vermont in the dead of winter with no job and nothing to do is depressing.

Add to that the fact that I have a lot of anxiety about finding work in Vermont in the first place because low wage jobs and boredom is kind of what drove me to Korea. I feel really strange about the prospect of returning to America "forever". I guess that for the last few years, I've pictured myself living outside of the US sort of indefinitely and the prospect of forever in any place makes me feel a little antsy. Especially without Masum. I guess for the last few years I've always just considered my home to be wherever he is, whether that's Bangladesh, or somewhere in the US or even in Cuba or South America... And now, well, home seems to be Vermont whether I like it or not.

And it's not that I don't like it, it's just that, well, I haven't really considered the fact that I would be living there again. And while I'm really happy and excited to be surrounded by family and friends again, I'm really depressed about the fact that I'm alone and that the only person that I've ever really thought I would want to spend my life with won't be there to share it with me.

God, I really miss him. He's been gone for more than two months and I've thrown everything of his out of the house, but I still feel his absence constantly...

but, I guess I'm getting over it. I hope.

Life is so unfair.