A Step

A Step,

            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.