Category Archives: Transportation

Taken for a ride

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So I have a story. In fact, this story took place almost a year ago, but I had almost forgotten about it until last weekend when it jumped back to mind. My story goes something like this.

Enter a blonde Canadian woman looking moderately overwhelmed but determined. She approaches a busy intersection to try and flag down one of the ubiquitous micro vans which will ferry her dutifully from here to there. One approaches and with an air of confidence she expertly flags it over, just like the other volunteers had taught her. The van stops.

Usually, a young boy pops out of the sliding back door shouting and urging anyone who looks interested into the back line of seats. But this time, no boy. After a few pulls on the securely locked back door, the driver and his one passenger wave her into the front of the cab which is a common occurrence at the beginning of a micro run – the plum seats are often those at the front (provided the sight of near-miss car crashes doesn’t give you a weak stomach) as it is easier to get out when your stop arrives. So, off the trio goes, merrily through the foggy and cool morning towards the drop point for our intrepid commuting blonde Canadian.

After a few minutes, our main character begins to look perplexed. Apparently the van isn’t making the usual stops along the way. In fact, the van isn’t making ANY stops. She voices her destination again, with a hint of panic and the two cab mates smile and nod. So, it would seem that our mistress of accident has in fact just hailed her own chariot (or abduction vehicle, depending on the end of this story). She glances around the van for any signs of ill-intent but sees nothing for any concern. Meanwhile her driver and friend have been eagerly speaking Nepali to her, testing her limited vocabulary and causing any nervous mistakes to quickly tumble from her mouth (not to mention the sweaty palms, frantic eyes searching for an escape, or the possible scenarios she imagines that may bring her untimely death…but yes…those little trifles…so much less interesting than sustaining a clear and coherent Nepali conversation).

As the van approaches her immediate destination it slows and then stops. She tumbles from the van, a sigh of relief escapes from her lips and she reaches for 10 rupees from her pocket, the fare originally intended for the micro, and looks bewilderingly at her escorts. They shake their heads, grin, and shout “Have a great day!”, taking pleasure from the fact that they were able to offer this foreigner a lift for part of her journey and have a great story for the rest of the day. And off they go, before she has a chance to return the thanks and give them an honest and genuine smile no longer hiding uncertainty.

No folks, this wasn’t a micro. Just your regular old work van with two guys off to work – I can’t imagine what they thought of this girl who just hopped into their van for the ride. Needless to say, their offer was kind-hearted and I still smile when thinking about it. Just one more thing to be grateful for…honest and good people.

Honouring Fridays: July 24th, 2009

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Last weekend we took a fantastic day-trip hiking along the edge of the hills that surround the Kathmandu Valley.  Spectacular views, excellent company, incredible Buddhist monasteries, and some much needed peace were the highlights.  The single low-light:  the most crowded and painful microbus ride through almost knee deep monsoon puddles after waiting for 45 minutes.  It was totally worth the pain but clearly I need some practice on the whole Buddhist zen…the following conversation occurred between me and my brain during said painful micro ride:

Breathe in deeply  (except while my nose is crammed into the armpit of the guy in front of me).

Breathe out deeply (and hope that guy in front of me doesn’t mistake my excellent belly-breathing as a sexual advance).

Let all the muscles from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes just relax and release (except for the muscles that are hanging on for dear life to the roof of the 10-person microbus that is currently carrying me and 50 other people through torrential rains).

Close your eyes (but occasionally scan the rain streaked windows for any landmark that looks familiar where I can make a fast exit).

Imagine you are floating (actually, I am floating, there are so many people on this bus that they have squished me upwards for lack of space and your feet  are no longer connected with the ground).

Your weight is fully supported by a gentle breeze (actually it is not a breeze but the heavy breathing of the 50 people crammed inside this small space).

Let any thoughts you have surround themselves in bubbles and float away (how do I surround every curse word I have ever known in a bubble?).

Allow yourself to drift away, slowly, gently into the state of peace (or how about I just get the heck off and find a damn taxi!).

So despite my inability to release my ego and be zen, I do have many things to be grateful for.

  • Bacon. Greasy and salty, crunchy and chewy, deeply savoury goodness in the form of a fried strip of pig meat.  Bacon is something I rarely eat here in Nepal.  But the breakfast buffet at the hotel I stayed at for a workshop this week served bacon.  And I ate it.  All of it.   I couldn’t stop myself – I actually went for a second helping of just bacon…who does that??!!!  I think it reminded me of home and filled some sort of hole in my soul.  It felt almost spiritual – like some inner food-god connection had been unleashed. Perhaps if I had carried some bacon on the micro with me the conversation above would be different. Don’t you worry bacon…we will have a rendezvous again soon, although this time I might just arm myself with some  lettuce and tomato.  Until then, I will keep you in my thoughts here.
  • I am grateful for realizing that it’s no longer my problem. We had a proposal due for funding today.  It isn’t yet finished.   I don’t know when it will be.  We might get an extension but we might not.  I poured heart and soul into helping to write this thing but couldn’t do it alone.  I asked for help and nobody heard my call.  I was seriously saddened and frustrated until I spoke with a good colleague, Jeevan, and he reminded me that it wasn’t my problem.  I was propping up a crumbling building alone – even if I managed to stabilize one corner, it was still doomed to crumble.  I did everything I could but if the building crumbles…I will be sad but it’s just no longer my problem.
  • Being in the right place at the right time. During our hike and monastery visits last week, just as we arrived at the final monastery, the thunder began to clap and a light rain began to fall.  Almost at the exact same time a large drum began to sound inside the monastery.  The Buddhist monks were being called to prayer.  It was a practice of one of the traditional Tibetan chants.  We were able to sneak inside and sit near the back and observe the ritual chanting.  It was a beautiful combination of sounds – the booming of large drums marking a return to mindfulness, the gentle snap of fingers when a particular state of consciousness or being had been achieved and the gentle murmur of about 100 voices repeating the soft and rounded Tibetan words.  With the rains outside it was the perfect place to be, without a plan and finding ourselves sitting on the edges of daily life in a monastery.
  • Rex.  He has been trying to make it onto my blog for weeks.  But I always tell him that I am ALWAYS grateful for him so don’t need to blog about it every week.  But this week, I am more grateful for him than usual.  He has been away in Hetauda and I am always reminded, when he is gone, just how much support, love, kindness, patience, laughter, and joy he brings to my life.  You made the blog sweetie – now get on that crowded smelly microbus and come home soon!

Honouring Fridays: March 20th, 2009

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The march of the week days continues on.  One thing that I can confidently say about working in a new country is that work is still work is still work, any way you slice it.  I had kind of thought (naively) that somehow working overseas would feel not like work!  But who am I kidding really – it is still fraught with the same pitfalls as work anywhere – overtime/weekend work may be expected, office politics still run rampant, not everyone loves their job and it is still hard to get people to work together and collaborate.  All that said, work in Nepal is nothing like work in Canada 🙂  Yes, it still feels like work and still has many of the same pitfalls, but …it is indescribably different.  So, to honour this particular Friday some things that I am grateful for at work 🙂

  • Talented and wise colleagues. It is often the case that I seek the wise council and advise of my “supervisor” R.  I have found myself a bit stumped this week on how to address some internal politics and clearly unethical behaviour within the coalition I work with.  What I am continually so impressed with is R’s ability to read a situation for the subtle and often incredibly sensitive cultural messages that I so easily miss.  He understands so well the dynamics of human behaviour within the Nepali context and can so easily and gracefully adapt his own communication to these complex social situations.  Hi wisdom and talent is impressive and I have so much to learn from him.
  • The official VSO Library. Not everyone knows this, but one of the simple pleasures of being at the VSO office is that I can sherpa back to my apartment every day a couple of books from the VSO library.  These are years and years worth of books collected by various volunteers and left for the enjoyment of continuing volunteer generations.  All free and totalling about 1500 books in total.  From the obscure, to the mundane, to the breathtaking one can find just about anything.  And I have also discovered that there is a point after which one will read ANYTHING simply for the sake of reading.  So far I have read books (fiction and non…you decide) on the following topics: British culture, tennis and drug addiction, incest in frontier France, the Nepali civil war, walking the Appalachian Trail, lesbian love in the early 1900 British theatre scene, down’s syndrome, the life of a writer, the culture of a small fishing village of the coast of france…and I have only just dipped a toe into the literary excitement of the VSO library.
  • Riding on the back of my boss’s motorbike to get to meetings.  It is hard to imagine how I would have reacted in Canada to the suggestion that I hop on the back of a bosses motorbike and zip off to a meeting.  But, today, that was exactly what happened.  Indulge me for a moment and just imagine your own boss riding a motorbike.  Now, imagine yourself, dressed in traditional Nepali clothes but topped off with a black motorcycle helment and hopping on the back.  Weaving in between cars, traffic, and bicycles, balancing precariously on the back, trying to make your body flow with the bike rather than against it.  After the meeting, we debrief the meeting while whizzing through the streets….incredible!  I must admit that I loved it and hope we have more meetings we need to get to where we will need to take the motorbike.
  • Meetings where a mutiny occurs! The above mentioned motorbike trip took us to the first all-members meeting of the Global Campaign for Education-Nepal.  About 15 people in total attended but the big news, and something I was considerably grateful for, was the fact that a mutiny occurred!  The chair was essentially kicked from his position by both his organization and the rest of the members.  There was a reshuffle of the steering committee which hopefully resulted in renewed focus and energy.  AND, all this happened while the (ex) Chair was not in attendance!  He wasn’t even there to defend himself.  Bizarre to think that he was part of the coalition a day ago and now is no longer involved…and I don’t even know that anyone has told him yet…yikes!  But I must admit it was a step in the right direction – and it was just such a interesting process to observe.

First day of work

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After 2 months of cautious observation, protection, training and coddling, this week i our first week of work.

The cautionary tales of not expecting too much, being patient, and taking everything that might happen in stride had worn us all down.  In fact, our expectations were so lowered that I was thrilled to walk into my office and have a desk, chair, and binder of reading waiting for me.

Much of the week was spent reading and studying documents related to child-friendly schools, inclusive education, valuing teachers, teacher training, and complex, tedious and often circular debates by large donor agencies about just how important education is to alleviating poverty (I absolutely can agree with their arguments but let me tell you these documents do not stimulate any creativity or inspire ideas that will help to achieve their lofty goals).

Today I got my computer started up and was able to dig a bit deeper into the specifics on my job which is to provide support and advocacy advice to the Nepal Global Campaign for Education, comprised of local NGO’s and some INGO’s that are making efforts to coordinate their advocacy efforts towards the Education for All goal of 2015.  It is complicated…and more so given that I am not familiar with all the development lingo, acronyms, and agencies…phewwww!

The highlight of my day happens twice = once at 9:30am and once at 2:30pm.  This is chiyaa chutti (tea break) and lunch respectively.  The whole office gathers to chat and read the newspaper during chiyaa – a lovely start to the day.  Then at lunch, we all flock to a corner of the yard to eat our curry, rice, and dhaal for lunch.  We pay ahead for a month of lunch (about 50 cents Canadian per day) and the fabulous kitchen team lovingly prepares us lunch…very very tasty!  No more brown bagging when I can have a hot and fresh lunch each day!

I have yet to sort out my best mode of transport to and from work.  So far I have been walking 1-hour each way which in the morning is lovely – tea in a travel mug and BBC World News through my headphones makes the time pass quickly.  But the afternoon walk is just chocked with exhaust, dust, noise, people, traffic, dogs, garbage, street vendors, honking, and the odd cow that it is almost too much stimulus after a long day of work.  Today I hopped the bus and it was heaven, and by heaven I mean a jostling and bumping ride full to the brim with people, with bags smacking you in the head (much like a crowded 99 bus in Vancouver but with more chaos and twice as crowded) – and still…it was heavenly compared to the walk home.