Girls and Boys

Namaste.

The project I am working with has the aim of encouraging more girls to attend school and stay at school until they are 16 and to finish their education.  Although many girls start school, in rural areas they frequently drop out and leave before taking their School Leaving Certificate. If a family can afford it, boys are often sent to private schools whilst the girls go to the local government schools, which frequently do not have a good reputation for high achievement.

Women and girls washing clothes in the river

Nepal is a very patriarchal society.  A boy child is prized, honoured and cherished in many traditional families, whilst the girls are expected to work hard in the home or on the land. Near where I live I see boys playing outside; football, cricket, marbles or even riding a bike – but rarely do I see girls playing.  Many girls are given household chores like cleaning, washing, fetching water or looking after siblings, and these may often leave little time for play or for doing homework.  

In many of the classrooms I visit the girls are much less confident and less assertive than the boys.  Frequently boys and girls sit on opposite sides of the classroom, which makes it very obvious when there is a difference.  

Girls revising for an exam the next day - before going home!

The boys often dominate, loudly calling out answers to the teacher’s questions, reading aloud and taking part in lessons and even demanding that their work be marked before the girls work.  In some lessons I have seen, the teacher talks directly to the boys or asks the boys questions before or rather than the girls.  


After one lesson when I talked about this with the teacher, he told me “The girls would not want to answer anyway, so there is no need to ask them!”  How hard to change these cultural attitudes! Girls want an education and, given the right opportunities, work hard to succeed at school.

Child marriage, although officially illegal in Nepal, still sometimes takes place. The girl may have no say in this, it will have been arranged by her father or parents, sometimes to a man much older than her.  Some poor families say they just cannot afford to keep a daughter at home any longer. At marriage a girl become the possession of her husband and his family.  She must move from her own family home into his, and will be expected to work very hard there at household chores and cooking.  There will be no time to continue her education, no matter how good a student she was. 

Girls, bright and enthusiastic to be at school.

This difference shows in all aspects of society. When walking along pavements in Kathmandu (we don’t have pavements in Besisahar where I live!), if a group of men are walking towards a woman, the expectation is that the woman will step off the pavement into the road to get out of their way.  The traffic in Kathmandu is such that I am not prepared to do this, so I have rebelled against it and just stand still, making the men move around me, which they often look puzzled or cross about.  Recently, I was being served in an office near my flat when two young men walked in.  The female office worker immediately put my forms aside and served the two men before returning to finish serving me!  Fortunately I don’t have a good enough command of Nepali to make a fuss about this – as I would have wanted to!!

The government is committed to encouraging more women to be represented in decision-making roles, both at grass-roots and higher political levels, but this needs to go alongside an increase in women’s confidence to speak out and be heard.  One woman I met recently told me that although she is a member of the School Management Committee, she is rarely able to give her views because men, who talk and are not prepared to listen, dominate the S.M.C. Women must be confident to make their voices heard and men must be more prepared to listen.

Big and Little Sisters working together

These attitudes are changing, especially amongst better-educated adults, but in the rural villages where I work and many adults themselves have not had education, many girls are still treated as if they have no voice.  If all girls completed their education I am sure this would help to change this culture.
This is what the Sisters for Sisters' project is all about!

The situation was summed up very well by one of the Headteachers I work with said "Girls must complete their education so that they become more confident and not down-trodden"

The old trekking route

Namaste.

In an old trekking book, circa 1980, that I bought in a charity shop before I came to Nepal, it talks about the route up the valley to Besisahar from Dumre, which had to be walked as part of the Annapurna Circuit, before the road to Besisahar was built.  This trail was across the river, coming up the opposite side of the valley from the present road. Nowadays most trekkers catch a bus at least as far as Besisahar and often even further up the valley, but in those days there was an extra 50 kilometres to walk just to reach Besisahar.

As it was a beautiful clear Saturday with warm sunshine despite being January, I set out to try to follow the trail down the valley as far as time would allow in a day.  I hoped it still existed and was good to walk. I left Besisahar via a footbridge across the river that I know, and turned right instead of the usual left. 

There was a good track to follow, that undulated up and down the side valleys and over small ridges, always well above the river, the Marsyandi Nadi, a beautiful aquamarine colour from the glacier water it contains. 
























I crossed a couple of pretty streams on stepping-stones and once over a small suspension footbridge.  In places there had been small landslips and the old trail had disappeared, but there was a makeshift path over the rough earth, rocks and debris. This old route is obviously still well used by local people.

Washing hanging like flags in front of this small house.

In places the path went through small settlements, where people smiled and children shouted “Namaste!” or “Hello” and waved.  Men and women of all ages, sitting outside their houses in the sunshine were very curious about me.  “Where was I going?” 

'Where had I come from?” 

“Eklai?” (Was I alone?) 

Even one group of ‘old men’ sitting in the sun, after several similar questions enquired how old I was, and were amused (as I was) to find I was older than most of them! 

On display was the everyday life of simple rural people. The woman doing the family washing at the communal tap, children playing cricket with an old piece of wood for a bat and a round stone for the ball, men ploughing terraces with pairs of buffalo, women collecting fodder for their animals, young girls fetching firewood in their dokkos (cone-shaped baskets carried on their back by a head strap) others carrying dokkos full of manure for the fields.

Dokko shaped piles of manure dotted across the field.

Young women fetching firewood.

Several pairs of men were carrying very long bamboo poles along the track, which were obviously heavy as they had to take frequent rests.  I asked if I could feel the weight – they were heavy.  They invited me to sit down with them and have a rest too.  My language skills were not up to asking them what they were going to do with these poles, although I was curious.

How long? How heavy?  What's it for?

Sometimes the path led through forest and I listened to the chorus from the birds high in the trees.  Bamboo clumps with tall new shoots stretching up toward the sky, contained flocks of small twittering birds.

Part of the trail was below a steep rocky cliff and I watched a pair of eagles riding the thermals, but they were too high to photograph.  A kingfisher, beautifully bright with turquoise, skimmed up a stream and a family of four small brown squirrels scampered across the path and up into the nearby bush where they squealed to each other.

At intervals I could look back up to the snow-capped Annapurna peaks that towered above the valley, the town of Besisahar on a flat plain nestling in the valley is far below them. 

I finished by crossing the river on the long bridge above where it is damed for hydroelectricity. I know this bridge too, as it is the start of the route to two of the schools I visit. Once back on the road I returned to Besisahar by bus.  

What a great way to spend my day off!

Poinsettias for Christmas

Namaste.

I know that Christmas is fast approaching and so much at home in the UK will be happening in preparation for this festival.  It does seem strange to be warm still, sitting on my balcony in a T-shirt in December and not rushing out for panic shopping sessions. Somehow I find myself missing it!

I am sure that every supermarket and florist in Britain will be selling poinsettia plants to decorate homes at this time of year.  In Nepal at this time, these plants are growing everywhere, but they don’t look like the ones I used to buy.  Here they often grow as big as trees and grow mostly in gardens!  However they are all in flower now in December, looking blowsy and brightly coloured, much better than the ones I used to buy in Britain.

 

The flowers are stunning, adding a punch of colour all around the houses.  In Nepal they are to be found in both scarlet red and yellow, with huge dinner-plate sized flowers surrounding a yellow centre. 

There are even plants with double flowers, pom-poms of petals decorating the whole tree.  The one behind my flat is like that and makes me smile as I pass by.

This year, while so far from home, these beautiful poinsettias will be my reminder of Christmas celebrations.  

Happy Christmas to all my family, friends and acquaintances who read my blog.

A day in the life of ...

Namaste,

Although each working day for me is different I have tried in this post to give a flavour of a fairly typical one. (I have added photos from several different schools, so as not to show favouritism!) 

My alarm goes off at 6am, but normally I’m already awake because all the neighbours get up before this time.  That includes the cockerels, which begin their morning chorus well before 5am!  Many Nepali people go to bed early and get up early – and once they are up, it is ok to make a noise so that everyone else wakes and gets up.

Early morning bus

The bus leaves at 7am.  The bus journey takes about an hour and half, which is followed by about 2 hours walk; across the river on a suspension bridge, through the rice terraces and then up the path by the stream, to reach the school.

Across the river on the suspension bridge

The walk today is relatively flat, so I don’t arrive at school feeling really hot and sweaty, as I do after a steep uphill walk.  As I pass, people stop their work to watch curiously, and some will say “Namaste”.  The more inquisitive will ask where I’m going, normally in Nepali, although if they can speak some English they may want to show this off.  A foreigner in these rural areas is an interesting event!

Haystack of rice stalks

Rice laid flat to dry after cutting

Two 'Little Sisters' on their way to school ahead of me.

The entrance to the school is unlike those found in the UK.  Many of the rural schools do not have vehicle access, or even a road to them, just steps or a gate.  This school has around 250 pupils, ranging in age from 5 to 16.  There is one class for each year group. The lower classes are smaller because, often, younger children attend small primary schools nearer to their homes.  

Exercises before school

School starts at 10 am and the pupils line up in front of the classrooms, do some simple exercises to the beat of a drum, sing the National Anthem and then march into their classroom. In each class the timetable for each day is the same, so if you have an English lesson first, every day starts with English. 

Having greeted the Headteacher, I go to a class to watch a maths lesson.  The pupils are sitting quietly on wooden benches facing the board at the front, normally girls on one side of the classroom, boys on the other.  From experience I know that the benches are not comfortable and some may even be broken! The walls are dirty and need a coat of paint, and there are no pictures on the walls or books or learning resources in the classroom.  The floor is bare concrete and the windows have wooden shutters and bars but no glass.  

Girls on one side of the classroom.

During the cold months of December, January and February the pupils and teachers wear coats and hats to keep warm, as there is no heating in any of the classrooms.  In fact in many classrooms I visit there is no electricity, so it is dark if the shutters are closed.

Hats and coats in the classroom to keep warm!

Lesson in the sun

If it is a sunny day the class may go outside to work - it is much warmer than inside!

During the day I will also work with the primary level Nepali, maths and  English teachers, mainly suggesting ways that they can work to make their lessons more effective so that their pupils understand and learn better. In many lessons that I see the pupils spend at least some of the lesson chanting what they need to learn – over and over again, which must be very boring.  Ideas for change may be something as simple as asking individual pupils questions instead of asking the whole class, who then shout back the answer in chorus.  Other methods include playing simple games or providing homemade learning aids like charts or diagrams.  I may do some teaching to demonstrate a different method, although this is limited to English and some maths lessons, as my language is not nearly good enough to teach in a Nepali lesson!

In most of the schools that I visit the pupils are very curious about me, and if I sit outside during the break times, groups of them will come and ask me questions – “What is your country?” “Have you a family?”  “Where do you live?”  “How old are you?”  “Do you like Nepal?” are all regular questions.  All schools teach English – and some even teach most subjects in English, as well-spoken English is considered a good route to employment.  Often students like to practise what they have learnt.  If English is taught well, by the time a pupil is in the oldest classes, they can hold a conversation with me.

School finishes at 4pm and everyone, including teachers, leaves quickly. Many, both students and teachers, have a long walk home, sometimes up to 2 hours, and work or chores to do when they get there.  I retrace my morning journey, arriving back at my flat as it gets dark.  



Fortunately the local shops around my home are open until late so I’m able to buy fresh milk and any vegetables I need for my supper.  

Having written up my visit notes from the day and answered emails from home if I have any Internet, I will usually curl up with a book and turn in early for bed, tired after a busy day and mindful of an early start in the morning again.

Creepy crawlies!

Namaste.

Foreign places often have very interesting looking mini-beast populations and Nepal is no different. Many of the insects I have encountered have been similar to, but often bigger and more colourful, than the same species I have found in the UK.

Here is a selection!

large red beetle.

This black and white moth was feeding on
fruit from a wild tree in the forest

Not quite sure what this creature is, beetle maybe?

Millipede - about 30 cm long

Large praying mantis on the window frame in my flat

and another on my grandsons arm

Large speckled spider on a piece of bamboo.

Dragon fly - during the monsoon time there
were swarms of them in the sky above Besisahar.

However the cockroaches, which seem to plague me in my flat, are so horrible that I have not photographed them!!  Also very common are ants and the mosquitos during the monsoon time make it worth sleeping under a mosquito net.
All in all the small creatures are not too daunting or scary - except cockroaches!!

Trek up the Langtang Valley

Namaste.

The bus ride from Kathmandu to Syabrubesi and the start of the trek was  “the worst ever experienced!” according to my son.  A single track road with hairpin bends and switchback corners, huge ruts and muddy uneven surface, yawning drops down the mountainside with no safety barriers and half cleared landslides was extremely scary – it took the bus about 9 hours to cover 120 Kilometres!

The trek, which takes about 6 days of hard walking, follows the river valley of the Langtang Khola steeply up into the mountains and close to the border with Tibet (China).  At times we could see the snow-capped mountains of Tibet.

We began by crossing a suspension bridge over the river and then walked through forest for the first day, hearing below us the rushing of the river at all times.





We passed fabulous waterfalls and enormous boulders, the size of houses, suspended on the hillside where they had been left many thousands of years ago by ice, water or landslide.

My grandson sitting on top of one of the enormous boulders near Langtang village.

Surprisingly, a tea-house we passed mid-morning had a bakery selling croissants and delicious homemade biscuits – which gave us fuel for the steep four-hour climb that followed. We were tired and relieved to reach Lama Hotel, our accommodation for the night. That day we climbed 1000 metres taking about 7 hours. Well done to Solli, my nine-year old grandson for that achievement!

Next morning we left the forest and steep path, continuing through upland grassland with grazing yak and gently ascending all day. We reached the village of Langtang, that day’s destination, by mid-afternoon. 

Yak grazing

Towering around the top of the valley were snow-capped mountains, peaks ranging from 5000 metres to the highest Langtang Lirung at 7246 metres.  Truly awesome, in the correct sense of the word!

The inhabitants of the upland valley are mostly Tibetan and Buddhist, so we passed many strings of prayer flags, prayer wheels, mani stones and stupas.  I particularly liked the mani stones – long lines of flat stones, many hundreds of years old, carved with symbols and prayers arranged into a wall along the side of the path.  We had to be careful to pass them in a clockwise direction as is expected in this religion.   

Also interesting were the prayer wheels powered by the mountain streams tumbling into the valley.  Each had a small house built around it to protect it and every time the wheel turns the prayer inscribed on it is sent.  








All along the valley, often at conspicuous places, were Buddhist stupas.  Many of these were painted with gold tops and colourful decoration on the lower parts. Some had the boulders around painted with Buddhist signs too. Streams of prayer flags surrounded each one.

We stayed overnight at the topmost settlement, Kyanjin Gompa, and visited the small monastery there.

Despite the stunning mountains all around us, we were saddened by this village, which seemed to cater only for tourist trekkers and not the local inhabitants.  

Next morning the sunrise was worthy of the early start - by 6.30 a.m. we were above the village and watching the first shafts of sunlight fall on the summit of Langtang Lirung. Magic!

On the last day of our return we took an alternative high path instead of the one we had come up, and were rewarded with a walk through alpine type pastures, with interesting flowers and butterflies, and of course fabulous views back up the valley. We stopped for lunch in a small lodge high in the hills, which, we decided, would be an ideal place to stay if you wanted to get away from the 21st Century for a few days.  

As we descended back into the valley, to Syabrubesi, at the end of our trek, it was interesting to see a road snaking up the hillside on the opposite side of the valley - so many hairpin bends!

How far we felt we had travelled during our week of walking, and what great memories we had to take away with us.

(Many thanks to my son, Chris, for the use of his photos. I carelessly lost my camera on the last day, containing about 500 photos of the trek!  I was not happy.)