I’ve been
at my new site for two weeks. My home, community I will continue growing up in
for the next couple of years. My expectations, although I try to avoid them
traveling, have shifted with the currents since I first started applying to the
Peace Corps a year and half ago. Going to Nepal: “There will be mountains.
Getting to Nepal: “Oh it will be green and friendly.” Going Far-West: “Oh its
going to be wild.” My thrill for my new home rose as my bus began its ascension from the Terai,
(Southern Nepali Flatlands) where we journeyed from Kathmandu, up North now to
my District. I was with 4 other volunteers, and got to see their sites on the
way to our district center. Mine was past. The literal last stop.
Saying
goodbye, I was taking a jeep across a beautiful mountainous ridge to my site. I
could finally see it, the driver pointing it out. I had always been lucky in
life, but I didn’t know I would be given a mountain. My area is, ranging from
ward 1 at the base of a river to 9 just past the peak, literally the face of a
mountain. My home is well placed on a footpath between a small rural hamlet and
the more centralized part of the village, where my agriculture office and
community post are. This plants my role as the facilitator between the people
and the resources quite well. As awkward as the first night was around a fire
in the corner of my house, I relished how quickly my family and I would evolve from that.
There was a lot of staring. I am different here; for a few, the first of my
kind that they’ve seen.
I quickly
met a lot of great people. I didn’t know I liked people that much. I saw future
projects, friendships, and general activities that would make me smile as I traversed my new playground. Much
like a traveler in the sun, I came across a nice lake and jumped right in. A
week into this lake I found myself teaching English to a group of 30 kids in
the morning, helping my agriculture office start a mushroom growing project
with a women’s group, made my bricks made for a smokeless cookstove for my
family, and was re-reading the Great Gatsby to help a friend pass an English
proficiency exam. I was swimming fine, but it dawned on me that I still had my
shoes on, and I never bothered to check the depth. The next daw I was too sick to leave bed, a lesson in humility. I have, since recovering, taken a step
back, small step, to understand my community before throwing all my ideas at
it. So for now, I am learning names. I am learning who does what where. I am
learning to teach. Teach what exactly, I don’t know. I’m learning that too.
