From February 24, 2014
My grant officially ends in 22 days. Although I won’t be immediately
returning to the United States, it is getting close enough that I am allowing
myself to think about the transition. I have loved my time in Nepal. I love my
students. I love my host family. People often ask “which is better – Nepal or
America?” and I can’t really answer that question. But here are a few
comparisons I do feel comfortable making.
I love the word prefer. I love that in America when someone asks
me a question there is a way to express my opinion without giving the
impression that I absolutely hate one thing and enthusiastically adore the
other. Maybe there is a word for this in Nepali, if so someone should have told
me about it a long time ago because I’ve spent the past eight months feeling
like my preferences are getting lost in translation.
I am excited to return to a land of options. There are so many
wonderful things to do, to eat, to talk about, to enjoy. Here, someone might
ask me if I like a particular food item and if I say yes I will get it at every
meal from now on. If I say no, I’ll never see it again. It’s so permanent and
unchanging. In the U.S., it is perfectly acceptable to like something but not feel
like it on a particular occasion. Maybe I’m just wishy-washy, but I’ll accept
that and enjoy returning to a society where wishy-washy is normal.
I can’t wait to cook for myself. I really miss getting home from school
and thinking “hmmm…what do I want to eat?” Will I continue to enjoy daal bhat?
Absolutely. Will I enjoy not eating it every day? You bet. But more than what I
eat, I am looking forward to controlling how much I eat. The combination
of American body image issues and the communication of Nepali love by heaps and
heaps of food, just makes meal time uncomfortable. My host family has learned
to accommodate my small stomach but I am quite certain Dr. Oz would not approve
of the typical portion size in this country. And one more thing, I definitely
prefer eating lunch around noon and dinner earlier in the evening. I am
confident I will adjust back to the American breakfast-lunch-dinner time table
very quickly.
Maybe my opinion will change when I start paying my own utilities, but
I’m also looking forward to consistently hot showers with good water pressure.
The thought of being clean on a regular basis is pretty appealing. So are
washing machines. Can I live without these types of luxuries? Yes. But if I’m
going to shower with cold water I’ll be moving to a warmer climate.
A mattress that is thick enough that my hip bones don’t touch the wood
underneath. Cars with shock absorbers. Consistent internet access. Celery. A
Christian church. Central heat. Strawberries. News in English. Going barefoot.
Nevertheless (just for you Rashmee!), there are of course things that I
will be sad to leave behind.
The Himalayas. I wouldn’t consider myself a very nature-y person. But I
have come to love looking out my classroom window to admire the bright white
peaks sawing into the sky.
The ease of going slow. There is so much pressure in the U.S. to be
going, doing, working… and that pressure doesn’t really exist here. It drives
me nuts when I see teachers sitting in the sun instead of teaching their
classes, but it has also been nice not to spend hours afterschool trying to keep
up. I know that my early bedtime, relaxed morning time, and shortened school
day will seem very faraway when I return to teaching in the U.S. Why can’t
there be a happy middle ground?
Public transportation just outside my door. Because American buses have
actual stops and don’t just pull over when anyone wants to get on or off.
In Nepal, I never feel pressured to put fashion before warmth. It is
perfectly acceptable to wear two shirts, a sweater, a scarf, leggings, pants, a
coat, gloves, socks, and sandals all at once. In the U.S. I have definitely
endured goosebumps in the name of looking put together.
In a strange sense, I will actually miss loadshedding. It is kind of
nice to have a certain number of hours every day where I am forced to disconnect
and only interact with the people in front of me. It has also made me realize
just how severe my need to be digitally connected really is; I occasionally
find myself checking my email at 3am when I roll over and see that the light
has come.
When I lived in Cameroon, I came back very cynical about technology and
modern conveniences. Probably because things like washing machines and
dishwashers and freezers were extremely rare. In Nepal, there are lots of
people who live without these things but there are also lots of people who have
them. It’s definitely harder to appreciate a simple life when the person next
door has their own generator. I think my time in Nepal has helped me reflect on
my life in America in a more balanced way. It would be hard to come home and
live like I had never been to Nepal, but I also recognize how silly it would be
to ignore the culture around me in the U.S. I will continue to reflect on this
for a long, long time.
