Panauti: A City of Antiquity

Friday, February 23rd, 2024 Panauti, Nepal

When you first arrive in a new place, especially somewhere across the world, the place wears you down.  It challenges your expectations of what you thought the place would be, and it challenges your own identity as you frantically try to adopt to the culture.  After a few weeks though, the place no longer wears you down. You end up wearing the place.  You put it on, and it even starts to feel nice and snug.  Nepal is feeling nice and snug, and I’m glad for that.

So, the last time I checked in on here, I was still in Kathmandu for initial orientation.  That was three weeks ago when there were 24 members of our cohort.  Now, there are only 22.  If this was a game of survivor, it would be progressing slowly, but alas, this is Peace Corps, and I think everyone is surprised how quickly people are weeded out.  In the interest of confidentiality, I won’t go into the circumstances surrounding the departure of some individuals, as much as I might want to.

Now, I live in a village called Dalinchowk, which rests on the top of what us Americans would call a mountain, and what Nepali people would call a hill.  I recently learned that Nepal doesn’t even bother naming peaks less than 20,000 feet tall.  From Panauti, an ancient and historical city where the Peace Corps holds all our technical training, my house is a half hour walk on a very steep incline.  The first day we arrived, nearly everything I owned was strapped to my back, and I had to climb up that gargantuan hill. 

After what seemed like an eternity, a school bus picked us up and we were shocked to discover the bus just climbed and climbed and climbed to the point where we were all doubting whether we could have made it up without assistance.  The advantage of living at the top of a mountain, is of course the good exercise, but also, the spectacular view.  To any PCT’s reading this now, I’m sorry, but I’m not too shy to say that I have the best view out of all you suckers.  Each morning, I walk onto my balcony and gaze in wonder at the Himalayas.  They really are something to gawk at, and they never get old either. 

To be fair, it hasn’t always been like this.  For my first 10 days in Panauti, the Himalayas were dressed conservatively by the pollution.  It wasn’t until my fifth day that I saw even the slightest sliver of the mountain range.  Slowly but surely however, the mountains undressed and now they show me their naked glory each morning, and you know what?  I show my naked glory right back at them. 

Jiskeko maatra (just kidding).

It would be bold to do such a thing, not only for the obvious reasons, but also because it has been quite cold here.  It IS the middle of winter time, and while it is much warmer than the States, there is no central heating pretty much anywhere.  This means that indoors, the temperature is usually only 10 to 15 degrees warmer than the outside temperature, which is usually around 40 F in the early morning.  Theres no hot water either, so I’ve been taking bucket baths with boiled water.  I am not above the cold shower, believe me, but the last time I took one here, my family yelled at me because they didn’t want me to get sick.  Instead, I opt for the once-a-week hot bucket bath.  This schedule seems unhygienic, but the cold makes bathing less necessary than you might think.  However, each day is becoming warmer than the last (now the afternoons are somewhere between 55 and 65-degrees F), and so I expect my need to shower will increase. 

What were once jarring realities have become comfortable aspects of my routine.  I must say, I am adapting well.  The language learning is slow going, but I can speak and understand more Nepali every day.  I recently tested to be intermediate-mid in the language.  It’s a beautiful thing to be able to use a new language to communicate with someone who you would otherwise never be able to.  It’s almost like you are unlocking side quests in a videogame, but ever so slowly.  When I first arrived at the house of my host family, it was just my Didi (big sister) and I. Between the two of us, there were probably 15 words of shared language.  I was relieved to discover that my bhaai (little brother), spoke fluent English, and could help translate when necessary.

As I’ve learned the language though, there are more and more things that I can talk to my Didi about, and not only her…my Dhaai (big brother), and the neighbors are slowly becoming people I can communicate with.   At the pace I am learning at, and with the total immersion, I feel confident in my prospects for fluency during my time here.

What of the food? You may be asking.  Allow me to bring you into the Nepali kitchen.  There are basically four “meals” that one can expect on a given day.  The first happens in the morning, and is small, consisting of tea and biscuits.  The tea is either, black, milk, or masala (spiced tea).  You dip the biscuits into your tea like the English do.  This meal is your first “khaajaa”. 

Next, between 9:30 and 11, is your first “khaanaa”.  You hardly ever find yourself surprised by your khaanaa because it (almost) always has the same 4 elements; dal, bhat, tarkari, and aachar.

In a conversation with me before I left for Nepal, you might recall that I was nervous to have dal bhat twice a day, every day, for two years.  Turns out, these fears were not unfounded, as I am, and will be, having dal bhat, twice a day, every day, for two years.  However, I am pleased to report that dal bhat hasn’t gotten old yet.  

But what is dal bhat? I’m glad you asked.  Bhat is rice and dal is lentils, but in the form of a soup.  The dal isn’t always dal either, today my “dal” was gundruk based.  What gundruk is, I haven’t the faintest idea, I only know that I’ve been watching it ferment for the last week when I go up on the roof to read my book.  The tarkari is a vegetable dish that is seasoned like a heavy curry.  My impression is that the tarkari will change as the seasons do, but right now, it is usually potato and cauliflower based.  Finally, is the aachar, which translates to “pickles”.  Instead of imagining pickles though, think of salsa.  It’s the spice of the food, and is fermented.  It comes in all tastes, sizes and forms, but it is always the most overpowering flavor on your plate, and you get this in the smallest quantity as it is usually spicy. 

The bhat, tarkari, and aachar all go on a plate, and the dal is in a bowl.  With your right hand, you make a little bowl inside the rice and pour some dal into it, then mix it together with your hand.  You pick up a quarter handful of dal infused bhat, take a little tarkari, and a tiny amount of aachar, and use your thumb to shovel it into your mouth.  This ritual happens twice a day, once between 9:30 and 11 am as I mentioned, and again between 7 and 8:30 pm. 

In the afternoon is a second, but more substantial “Khaajaa”.  The worlds your oyster with this one, I usually go for a samosa and some pani puri at a local place, but sometimes I can be convinced to grab some chow mein or momos. This meal happens between 12 and 2pm.   

If I have learned one thing in my very short stint in Peace Corps, it is that it is filled with ups and downs.  Its not that there are good days and bad days, it’s that any moment has the potential to be amazing, or make you wish you were kicking rocks instead.  I must say though, lately I have been feeling good far more often than I am feeling poorly.  All my basic needs have been met, I have food, a loving host family, good friends to play games and drink with, and great books to read. 

A note on the beer, because I know you are curious.  There are two prevalent local brands, Gorkha Strong, and Nepal Ice.  Each come in 24 oz bottles, and are 6 and 7 percent respectively.  At a hole in the wall restaurant, you can get one for 350 rupia, or around $2.5.  As far as I am concerned it’s a pretty sweet deal, but for Peace Corps volunteers, one beer sets us over our daily 300 rupia allowance.

One of the best decisions I made while packing was bringing an abundance of hacky sacks.  You wouldn’t believe it, but a hacky sack adjacent game called chungi is damn near the national schoolyard pastime of Nepal (the national sport is actually volleyball).  Many of the kids here are well versed in how to hack the sack, and even the adults have had years of experience hacking the metaphorical sack in their youth.  This means that if you start hacking some sack with a friend, or even by yourself, you will soon have a group of Nepali people of all ages gathered around you excited to play too.

I now know the specific location of my permanent site, which is in a city called Mentinkot, about 2 and a half hours east of Kathmandu by city bus.  It’s actually only 50 minutes from where I am now.  I will have a host brother, an Amaa and a Buwaa, along with a host sister who works at the hospital nearby.  My school will have approximately 400 kids.  Around May or June, I will be expecting another Peace Corps Volunteer to work at the school to promote the digital integration of the school.  Already, I am starting to plan some of my trips for the coming two years.  My mom and I plan to visit either India or Sri Lanka this coming October, and I plan on doing two to three big treks as well, likely including the Annapurna Circuit, the Manaslu Circuit and perhaps Everest base camp.

Often times, it’s hard to comprehend that I am on the other side of the world, living in such a radically different culture.  Its moments like watching a random parade march down the street with a myriad of instruments, a corpse being burned in a funeral pyre in the local Durbar square, or hearing the Nepali equivalent of the horn of Gondor being blown at 9 in the morning in which I realize I am at the very beginning of a grand adventure. There is so much to look forward to, and I hope to be telling you about it here soon.