Me and my spade of which I made the handle myself
It is so hot here that even the sounds have settled in the dusty air, not able to move because of the heat. Malei dere tato thô- I am very warm. The silence is pressing on my ears when I open the door of the downhouse. Fortunately, as soon as I walk up to Maya school the oppressive silence fades away, replaced by the sounds of shrill children's voices.
Forgive me for not writing for so long, life has been very very busy at Maya school. The three times I did go to Damauli in the past few weeks I either had to work on other stuff (print school exams for the yearly examination-which in the Netherlands only takes one click of the mouse, and here it takes one day of hard labour) or the internet was simply too shitty to open anything. (The most remarkable exam question I had to type down was: ' what should you not put in your ear' and one of the boys, answered 'a duck and a toothbrush' -he got two points. I wonder what the real answer should have been). Also, strikes happen on a weekly basis, so then it's not really fruitful to go to the town anyway. And last weekend 4000 people were rioting against the police because an officer supposedly shot one gang member. Damauli can be pretty fishy at times, but up in Chisopani none of this news ever is of any influence. Life goes on.
It is so hot here that even the sounds have settled in the dusty air, not able to move because of the heat. Malei dere tato thô- I am very warm. The silence is pressing on my ears when I open the door of the downhouse. Fortunately, as soon as I walk up to Maya school the oppressive silence fades away, replaced by the sounds of shrill children's voices.
Forgive me for not writing for so long, life has been very very busy at Maya school. The three times I did go to Damauli in the past few weeks I either had to work on other stuff (print school exams for the yearly examination-which in the Netherlands only takes one click of the mouse, and here it takes one day of hard labour) or the internet was simply too shitty to open anything. (The most remarkable exam question I had to type down was: ' what should you not put in your ear' and one of the boys, answered 'a duck and a toothbrush' -he got two points. I wonder what the real answer should have been). Also, strikes happen on a weekly basis, so then it's not really fruitful to go to the town anyway. And last weekend 4000 people were rioting against the police because an officer supposedly shot one gang member. Damauli can be pretty fishy at times, but up in Chisopani none of this news ever is of any influence. Life goes on.
The bus from Damauli to Chisopani is always veeery very full--this is only the beginning
Let's start this blogpost with the full moon.
Full moon brings a lot of opportunities. Games at night, nightly walks through the jungle, walking home without a flashlight, and of course the Holi festival, which is the hindi color festival which is also celebrated widely in Nepal. And Maya wouldn't be Maya if we woudn't make it into one big feast.
Holi was on Wednesday in the middle of our exam week, and of course there were no exams that day-except art, haha. We had already started celebrating it the night before when we were dancing until deep in the night and Asshis decided at midnight to cover our faces in pink powder. But of course, real Holi only started when the kids arrived to school in the morning. We had developed all these games which would make the throwing of paint and water even more fun, but half of the games were lost in the chaos. They failed because the children were too smart, too fast, too damn strong or just because it is way more fun to just throw water and colors at each other when you have the colors, instead of waiting until the next round.
Let's start this blogpost with the full moon.
Full moon brings a lot of opportunities. Games at night, nightly walks through the jungle, walking home without a flashlight, and of course the Holi festival, which is the hindi color festival which is also celebrated widely in Nepal. And Maya wouldn't be Maya if we woudn't make it into one big feast.
Holi was on Wednesday in the middle of our exam week, and of course there were no exams that day-except art, haha. We had already started celebrating it the night before when we were dancing until deep in the night and Asshis decided at midnight to cover our faces in pink powder. But of course, real Holi only started when the kids arrived to school in the morning. We had developed all these games which would make the throwing of paint and water even more fun, but half of the games were lost in the chaos. They failed because the children were too smart, too fast, too damn strong or just because it is way more fun to just throw water and colors at each other when you have the colors, instead of waiting until the next round.
Rashne in blue
'Ok children, so we are going to capture all the kids whose name has an 'n' in it, and we are going to tie them up to the pole in the jungle classroom, and then the other kids have to go save them, tiksa?' -enthusiastic roaring from the children's side- 'Nissan, Rabina, Nisha, Rashne, you know that that includes you right?' -running and confusion, tied up children in the classroom, struggles struggles, escaping children, Manjil shouting ' let's capture Becky Miss' 'let's catch Weike Miss', -damn Manjil has all the kids follow his commands- me being dragged to the classroom, covered in water and pink and purple powder, trying desparately to escape which is really difficult when there are five children hanging from your limbs, dragging you back to the prison again.
Holi day passes in a blur of colors, water fights and lots of screaming. Coordinated attacks, uncoordinated attacks, running around through the jungle while the children have to tag you to get some of the colored powder you are carrying. Climbing into trees to stay out of reach from the children is the worst idea ever because the children here can climb the tallest trees within a blink of the eye.
'Ok children, so we are going to capture all the kids whose name has an 'n' in it, and we are going to tie them up to the pole in the jungle classroom, and then the other kids have to go save them, tiksa?' -enthusiastic roaring from the children's side- 'Nissan, Rabina, Nisha, Rashne, you know that that includes you right?' -running and confusion, tied up children in the classroom, struggles struggles, escaping children, Manjil shouting ' let's capture Becky Miss' 'let's catch Weike Miss', -damn Manjil has all the kids follow his commands- me being dragged to the classroom, covered in water and pink and purple powder, trying desparately to escape which is really difficult when there are five children hanging from your limbs, dragging you back to the prison again.
Holi day passes in a blur of colors, water fights and lots of screaming. Coordinated attacks, uncoordinated attacks, running around through the jungle while the children have to tag you to get some of the colored powder you are carrying. Climbing into trees to stay out of reach from the children is the worst idea ever because the children here can climb the tallest trees within a blink of the eye.
It all ends in us running out of water and color, and walking to the tap with all the children to try and wash all the colors off. My hair remains pink for some days after because my blond hair just loves all the pigments that come close to it. We have a wonderful evening with good food (freshly killed chicken and rooster, yum) and of course locally brewed roxy.
Later when Dora and I walk home to the downhouse we hear the sound of drums and singing battles. We walk in that direction to find half the people from our street sitting on the edge of the hill below the full moon, dancing and singing. And of course we join them and dance with them for an hour more- getting covered in paint yet again- before our bodies finally run out of energy and we drop dead in our beds, coloring our bed sheets pink and blue as we sleep the night away.
What to do at full moon?
Celebrate Holi: check.
Play games at night: check.
If you think it's only the children playing games at Maya school, you coudn't be more wrong. And what can be more fun than playing games in the jungle under light of the full moon? Bas and Tim, two volunteers from Amsterdam - they were the sweetest boys I've ever met, so sad they are in Thailand now- tried out all their old boy scout knowledge on us, which resulted in us playing rounds of 'smugglers and guards'. Smugglers is a game where the smugglers have to smuggle a treasure from one safe zone to another without getting tagged by the guards because then you have to give your treasure away to the guards. Adrenaline pumping through your veins all night long as you try to move through the jungle as silently as possible from shadow to shadow, barefoot of course, ignoring all the cuts and bruises that appear as you get more and more into the game. Many people got quite injured as we ran away from the guards, running through the forest faster than you would have by day, jumping of walls where you don't quite know what's underneath, but you are too high on adrenaline to care.
After this game we are still so full of energy that we ignore our cuts and bruises and play a few games of cubbordy- which is a game where, basically, you just get very very hurt, especially when Soubas is in the other team and he just knocks you flat down without hesitating. The day after this game we were all walking around with our big scratches and bruises everywhere so that even the children were impressed.
A funny thing about the jungle at night is that you are never alone. After all these games in the forest, when we were finally chilling out at the campfire we suddenly heard a noise 'clook clook clook' coming from the chicken coop, and a rustling of leaves. One chicken missing, one chicken bitten. A small leopard or a big cat, looking at the paw prints. And we were hiding behind this coop just ten minutes before, when the animal was probably also there. I thought i saw something in the bushes but I was too preoccupied to care. Sigh, let's not talk of dangerous animals in the forest at night.
Later when Dora and I walk home to the downhouse we hear the sound of drums and singing battles. We walk in that direction to find half the people from our street sitting on the edge of the hill below the full moon, dancing and singing. And of course we join them and dance with them for an hour more- getting covered in paint yet again- before our bodies finally run out of energy and we drop dead in our beds, coloring our bed sheets pink and blue as we sleep the night away.
What to do at full moon?
Celebrate Holi: check.
Play games at night: check.
If you think it's only the children playing games at Maya school, you coudn't be more wrong. And what can be more fun than playing games in the jungle under light of the full moon? Bas and Tim, two volunteers from Amsterdam - they were the sweetest boys I've ever met, so sad they are in Thailand now- tried out all their old boy scout knowledge on us, which resulted in us playing rounds of 'smugglers and guards'. Smugglers is a game where the smugglers have to smuggle a treasure from one safe zone to another without getting tagged by the guards because then you have to give your treasure away to the guards. Adrenaline pumping through your veins all night long as you try to move through the jungle as silently as possible from shadow to shadow, barefoot of course, ignoring all the cuts and bruises that appear as you get more and more into the game. Many people got quite injured as we ran away from the guards, running through the forest faster than you would have by day, jumping of walls where you don't quite know what's underneath, but you are too high on adrenaline to care.
After this game we are still so full of energy that we ignore our cuts and bruises and play a few games of cubbordy- which is a game where, basically, you just get very very hurt, especially when Soubas is in the other team and he just knocks you flat down without hesitating. The day after this game we were all walking around with our big scratches and bruises everywhere so that even the children were impressed.
A funny thing about the jungle at night is that you are never alone. After all these games in the forest, when we were finally chilling out at the campfire we suddenly heard a noise 'clook clook clook' coming from the chicken coop, and a rustling of leaves. One chicken missing, one chicken bitten. A small leopard or a big cat, looking at the paw prints. And we were hiding behind this coop just ten minutes before, when the animal was probably also there. I thought i saw something in the bushes but I was too preoccupied to care. Sigh, let's not talk of dangerous animals in the forest at night.
Hanging out at the shop next to the downhouse after a day of hard rice-planting work
Anyway, apart from all these games and sillynesses, of course also there are always classes to give, animals to feed, water to carry, vegetables to cut and food to plant. Over the last few weeks I've been helping out quite a lot with the rice field, because it's planting season. In the Netherlands I just buy a pack of rice for 1 euro fifty, not knowing anything about where it comes from or how it is produced. Now I know it a bit better, and I can tell you: it isn't easy.
Anyway, apart from all these games and sillynesses, of course also there are always classes to give, animals to feed, water to carry, vegetables to cut and food to plant. Over the last few weeks I've been helping out quite a lot with the rice field, because it's planting season. In the Netherlands I just buy a pack of rice for 1 euro fifty, not knowing anything about where it comes from or how it is produced. Now I know it a bit better, and I can tell you: it isn't easy.
Planting the seedlings with Tilu Miss
Planting rice step by step, the first half of the process.
Planting rice step by step, the first half of the process.
- First you go down to the plantation and you cut away the weeds from the sides of the 'steps', and you fill up all the holes made by rats and other animals with stones and leaves.
- Then you fill up all the fields with water from the streams by making dams and digging openings from plateau to plateau.
- Then you hire a man with two oxes to plough through the watery fields (basically surfing behind them on a wooden beam, uprooting all the weeds)
- You pile up all the mud on the edges of the plateaus so that the edges become extra high and more water can come into the fields.
- Only then you can start planting the little seedlings that you buy from a small plantation up the stream (jumping from rock to rock to get to the plantation, picking the seedlings, tying them up, running back as fast as you can through the river)
- The seedlings, which look like grass, have to be planted systematically, all in neat rows, 4 to 5 seedlings at a time, while you are standing in the mud which comes as high as your knees.
- (The embarrassment of being at least twice as slow in planting the seedlings than the locals)
- Of course a little mudfighting inbetween doesn't hurt anyone-you can't be serious all the time.
- Then finally, when all the fields are planted (we have about 20 plateaus beloning to Maya school) you think you are done: you are not. Every day the fields have to be watered, which is a task I have been taking up the last week. Taking one schoolclass down to the fields every day, with the excuse 'it's educational'. And it is, it requires a lot of team work to get all the fields properly filled with water. And of course when you take children to the fields there is a lot of swimming, frog-catching, fish-catching and crab-catching going on. ('Look Miss, a crab!' - S.K., a small 7 year-old boy picks up the crab, pulls out one of its legs, opens up its belly and shoves a stick down into it. 'here miss, for you'. Who doesn't want a 'crab lollypop' to lessen ones hunger? How can you not love these children and their quirky ways?
Beaten rice with sugar has never tasted so good
And this is only the beginning of the process, in the next few months I will find out more about the art of growing and harvesting rice.
And this is only the beginning of the process, in the next few months I will find out more about the art of growing and harvesting rice.
Two bushes going on their daily stroll to the rice field
I just love it so much that no day here is the same, every day is full of surprises. One day you think that you will be giving math classes all day, but then you get a call halfway through the day that the people at the rice plantation are hungry and they want food, and whether you could carry it down. So then you stop all what you were doing and you fill up your head-basket with pots and pans full of rice and hot dal, and you take it all on an exhausting 45 minute walk to the rice fields while desparately hoping that you won't trip and spill all the food. Or you are just in the middle of a music class, trying to teach a new song to all the kids ('you put the lime in the coconut') when suddenly the wind starts to blow, and within 5 minutes the sky turns from blue to grey to black, and all the children in the school are running around on the playground trying to catch the dry leaves whirling through the air, and you can barely get them inside on time before rain starts to pour down from the sky with buckets at a time.
If you still think I'm ever coming back the the Netherlands; you're wrong. I will just find myself a nice Nepali husband and stay here forever.
I just love it so much that no day here is the same, every day is full of surprises. One day you think that you will be giving math classes all day, but then you get a call halfway through the day that the people at the rice plantation are hungry and they want food, and whether you could carry it down. So then you stop all what you were doing and you fill up your head-basket with pots and pans full of rice and hot dal, and you take it all on an exhausting 45 minute walk to the rice fields while desparately hoping that you won't trip and spill all the food. Or you are just in the middle of a music class, trying to teach a new song to all the kids ('you put the lime in the coconut') when suddenly the wind starts to blow, and within 5 minutes the sky turns from blue to grey to black, and all the children in the school are running around on the playground trying to catch the dry leaves whirling through the air, and you can barely get them inside on time before rain starts to pour down from the sky with buckets at a time.
If you still think I'm ever coming back the the Netherlands; you're wrong. I will just find myself a nice Nepali husband and stay here forever.
Nissan, his teeth and me (oh, and if you look really well you can also see my new ear piercing-oh yes I did)