3. Project Report

After the excitement of the weekend, Monday is a quiet day at first. After I accompanied the children on their way to school – 'half way', just like last year, I'm skipping the uphill part before the school – I return to the children’s house and drink my tea with Kami, outside in the sun. Then she says, 'Picture Bakhu?' I had one made for myself, a Bakhu, which is a traditional dress from this area, tailored from bright red silk fabric, and we wanted to take a photo with me in the Bakhu. For some reason, all the Nepalis are deeply amused that I am now the proud owner of this outfit, and a photo of me in the traditional dress is highly sought after. So, I jump into my room and try to get dressed, which is quite tricky. The dress is tied from the inside, buttoned from the outside, then laced up, a felt apron is put over the back, fixed by a tightly wrapped wool belt, and finally held in place with a decorative brass belt using two very sharp hooks. I had received the felt apron and wool belt last year as a farewell gift from Kami and brought them back this year. Now I have everything spread out on the bed and am struggling a bit, but somehow I manage to get into it and close it properly. I run back downstairs, first to Pasang, my landlady. She is very happy when she sees me in the dress and immediately comes out from her kitchen for a photo. Dawa turns the corner, beams at me, and thinks it looks good. I hand him my phone; one of us has to take the photos. After Pasang, I go down to Kami and Pasang 2, with Dawa in tow. For the photos. Kami gives me a critical look, then disappears. I look at Dawa, 'Not good??' He looks politely concerned, 'Well, Simone – your head.' Yes, I don’t have a headdress, but I don’t want one either. Lice are practically the most common pets here... Kami comes back with a cloth for me to wrap around my head. On the other side of the valley, with the Tamang, women at least wear nice embroidered hats, while we women wear headscarves. I comply; I don’t want to hurt Kami's feelings, but I think the cloth makes me look rather shabby. I find it really annoying. However, I find myself alone in my opinion, now Dawa and Kami are looking very pleased. 'Now I can find you a good Nepali husband, you look great!' Yes, thanks, but I don't want one. However, we take the photo; I think it’s wonderful, with Kami and Pasang 2, and we really have fun. I stay in Bakhu for a bit longer, and all the neighbors who drop by are completely thrilled that 'the white woman' is actually wearing Bakhu. I guess that doesn’t happen very often.

The next day, I go with Pramod to Dhunche; we want to inquire about the school situation there as well. Moreover, Pramod thinks my children need tissues, and he is right. So, I sit back on the motorcycle (oh man, yes, I had to really push myself to do it ;-) ) and we head to Dhunche. The weather is still really nice, and again I see Langtang Lirung rising just before Tibet with its snow-covered 7000m peaks. It truly is really beautiful here. The elongated valley heading north offers views that deeply touch me.

Upon arriving in Dhunche, we park the motorcycle – and first go to eat. This is really important here in Nepal, and I have gotten used to it by now. 'If in doubt, have a meal', or something like that. Afterwards, we go to the local secondary school, which goes up to the 12th grade, unlike Syaphru Besi. Dhunche is the district capital, so it is a bit less rural than our valley; the extensive green areas are missing, but the children chatter, run, and laugh just as wildly as they do with us. The director tells me a little; this school also doesn’t have as many children as it used to. Dawa explained to me that the family structure here is changing similarly to how it was in the 1950s in our country: parents increasingly have 1-2 children instead of 5-10 children as they try to ensure their children’s education. If you have many children, it is nearly impossible; with a smaller number, it is perhaps still manageable. And so, all schools are struggling with the problem of dwindling student numbers. I discuss with Dawa whether it even makes sense to operate a children’s house in the long run? Yes, it does. For one, the aforementioned applies more to families who can manage to educate their children with their own means, and on the other hand, there are between 300 and 600 children classified as 'poor' just in the upper northern part of the valley, meaning at our place. And for those children, there are about 50 state-funded school places available, where parents do not have to pay for school materials, uniforms, or accommodation. So there is still quite a bit of work for us to do!

The trip to Dhunche was very informative; we manage to be back in Khamjing at the same time as the children. I have a little time to regenerate, then I play with the children and am happy that these 15 haven’t fallen through the cracks and are going to school! In the evening, Dawa asks me if I want to go to Nagthali on Wednesday? Thursday is my farewell dinner, and on Friday we go to Kathmandu; my flight is on Saturday. Yes, Frank had mentioned Nagthali several times; it is supposed to be very beautiful there. 'Is it very steep, Dawa?' 'No, it’s Nepali flat, don’t worry. We will go tomorrow morning and be back in the evening.' Hmm, well, I’m not so sure. What I have heard is that Nagthali is a bit further away, and I know Dawa’s time estimates pretty well by now. Even back in Germany, I prepared a small Ziploc bag with my emergency supplies for cases like this: toothbrush and small toothpaste, a small deodorant, and – I wear contact lenses that need to come out at night – a small saline solution and a container for storage. I pack that in the next morning, along with the sleeping bag, who knows where I’ll end up. 'You only need a small backpack, just a water bottle!' Sure. And my emergency pack. 'We will leave at 9 am.' Then I still should bring the children to school; 10 am is definitely enough. And at 10 am, Kami starts cooking; we leave shortly after 11 am. It gets dark by 6 pm. Pramod said it takes about 3 hours to get to the parking lot, and from there you walk another 45 minutes (I double this time estimate; I’m not a Nepali). The whole thing times 2 – we want to come back – so I end up at 9 hours. When we set off, I make sure my Ziploc bag is in my small (!) backpack and look forward to the ride. We go down the mountain, back up on the other side, then turn right, and I recognize everything again. 'This is where we bought the chicken last year, right? And this is Sarmila's home! This is where we visited her family!' Finally, we stop after about 2 hours. Here live the parents of Priya, 2nd grade. I am happy to see her again and go down to her house. 'And now?' 'Just say hello.' It’s almost 1 pm; we don’t just say hello in life. And here comes the question if I am hungry; Priya’s mother would like to make me a Dal Bhat. I look at Dawa to see if he is hungry? Oh no, plus I was asked, he doesn’t care. 'OK, sure. No, thanks Dear, I am not hungry, just a tea, and we can go; no lunch needed.' Dawa looks horrified, and I have to laugh! Of course, he is hungry, and we didn’t just happen to stop here; he has planned a calculated lunch break. So, I look at Priya’s mother, who hasn’t understood anything from our English conversation, nod, and thank her for the invitation. Dawa is relieved.

When we arrive at the parking lot to park the motorcycle before the last hike, it’s after 3 pm. They have Snickers and Red Bull for you; I will just get something. Just in case, you know....' It still means that we will be back home in the evening. Yes, exactly. So we slowly walk up the hill; Nagthali is at over 3100m. And today is the first day in 2.5 weeks where the sky is not bright blue. We walk higher through the approaching fog, and at some point, I lose my temper. 'Dawa, you know I am wearing contact lenses; I cannot stay somewhere overnight without my stuff. You know that!!' 'Oh.' I don’t know whether to laugh or push him off the cliff; of course, we won’t make it home today; that has been clear since Khamjing. 'So, what do we do now??' 'Oh.' I start to lose my temper but can’t keep a straight face. I tell him about my bag, and we continue laughing as we walk. I've learned that I'm always better prepared here; that way, there’s no drama. And Dawa wants the best for me; if the weather were nice, we could see all the way to Tibet now. As it is, it’s maybe 50m, and it’s really cold when we reach the top. We are the only ones.

The guestroom is only heated when we arrive. I first crawl into bed, fully dressed, take the second blanket, and freeze for 2 hours. Then I get up again and go back into the guestroom, which is slowly getting a bit warmer. We sit by the fire, drink tea, and talk a lot. Last year, I also had the good fortune to spend an evening with Dawa, away from the daily obligations, during which he told me a lot about life in Nepal, and I understood a bit more. This time as well, and when the stove finally manages to drive out the cold, I learn a great deal more. After some time, I get a third blanket and go to bed.

The next morning, Dawa knocks very early, 'Get up, the sun is shining!' And indeed, on the other side is Langtang Lirung; the sky is blue, and I can see the unique scenery of this high plateau. Just above Tibet, clouds are already hanging, though, which is a pity. After a quick tea, we take a walk, and I am very happy that Dawa brought me here; it is truly beautiful. Between a rhododendron grove and a herd of Dzo, I enjoy the views of Ganesh Himal before heading back for breakfast. Afterwards, we descend again; the sky is slowly clouding over.

On the way back, several mothers with children stop us, wanting to send them to our school. Following the familiar pattern, 'Mother says she is 8 years old.' 'No, she is not; she hasn’t lost a single milk tooth yet. Next year.'

When we are back in Khamjing, it’s time for me to pack my bags. I actually don’t want to do that, plus there is still so much to do! After a meeting with Dawa and Pramod, summarizing the next steps, I go to Kami in the kitchen, who has already started shaping momos with Pasang 2 and three girls. 3kg of meat, which is a huge pot full, and only one teaspoon goes into each momo. We sit there for quite some time! Finally, we are almost done, and I want to change quickly; tonight I will wear my Bakhu. When I return to the kitchen, all the children are already at the table; Tashi and Pasang have come, as well as some friends. The kitchen is really crowded, and there is a murmur of excitement and enthusiastic applause when I appear in Bakhu, with all the accessories and headscarf (...). First, we eat; the children love the momos, then they dance for me, and there is cake. I look around and am very grateful for the unconditional acceptance that these people show me. They let me into their lives, even though I certainly make many mistakes and am so different. And I try to learn from them.

The farewell the next day is very difficult for me. The biggest challenge is not to cry when the children are all standing around me, wanting to touch me one more time, give one more kiss, hug me once more. I manage. Almost. Finally, I signal to Pramod that he really must leave with my children now. He understands and gathers them all, I turn around and have to collect myself first. For me, it’s down the mountain, over Dhunche and Trishuli to Kathmandu. We still need to pick up some spare parts for Dawa's motorcycle; we’ll get that during our lunch break in Trishuli; it should take about 1 hour to gather everything. We are here before 1 pm and go to eat. When we return, there’s no one to be seen anywhere, then we hear that not everything is in stock and will be quickly procured at the next workshop in Nuwakot. Well, we are in Nepal, and so we leave the workshop just before 6 pm and have packed everything. We arrive in Kathmandu in the dark, and it is loud and dusty again. Dawa picks me up at the hotel the next morning to take me to the airport; we both haven’t slept very much. After a very warm farewell and the promise that we will look at Mustang next year, I stand in line for the flight to Doha, then onward to Frankfurt. I had 3 wonderful weeks with friends, with my children, in the mountains, and I am once again grateful for everything I experienced. As a small act of revenge, I helped with the progress of the project, dried tears, and collected ideas. I stand in line and will try to take Nepal with me into my German everyday life, to maintain the calmness, and not forget the affection that is being shown to me from all sides in a forgotten mountain village, a remote area in Nepal. Namaste, and see you next year!