4th & Final Tibet Post - Tuesday, June 28

I Move into a Monastery

A rare opportunity arose a week ago where a Lama requested our host family to have us (me and the Chilean volunteer) come teach English at his monastery, and we were promptly relocated here in an attempt to do so. I couldn't have been more thrilled about the chance to see first-hand what Tibetan Buddhist lifestyle is like right at the heart of it, amongst the monks themselves, and to have the Chinese government's approval (which is needed to do anything, particularly relating to foreigners, in this tightly controlled area) seemed close to a miracle since they'd denied all previous similar requests by my volunteer coordinator. But nonetheless, I now find myself sitting on the edge of yet another remote, far-from-anywhere-at-all valley I never would've known about or thought of coming to stay in, with a week's worth of teaching young monks under my belt and a much deeper understanding of the culture to go along with it.

The students had no previous English instruction, so I started (and continue now) with the ABC's. If it weren't for my experience in Nepal to give me some comfort and ideas about running a classroom, I can't see that I would've made any progress at all. The Lama seems to have wanted to make the most of our limited time here and packed each class schedule with a full 3 periods of English every day. So it would've taken no effort at all to have the young monks bored out of their minds with it, but luckily I've been able to hold their attention thus far with new diversions I try to devise so that they can forget they're only repeating the same 26 shapes and sounds day in and day out.

The monastery itself is still undergoing some reconstruction after the earthquake forced it to move down from the cliffs to a lower part of the hillside. This has made it a fascinating time to be here as I have seen how many features, like the great golden statues towering at the front of the chanting / prayer hall, are actually created. Despite the astonishing array of gold and thousands of precious stones that adorn the outside of each and every one of these statues, Tibetans place much more importance on what's inside them than on the elaborate exteriors. The base is filled with bundles of tea leaves while the body itself is filled with books and scriptures. The belief is that without these items the statue is worthless, or certainly not worthy of worship. It would be like a person without a soul: just an empty body or shell. I've picked up a lot from being able to see so much of the objects and rituals, but the most revealing part of being here has been the conversations (through Tenzin, an English-speaker and passionate Tibetan who lives in the nearest town) with the Lama who was only too willing to tell me about his 3 uninterrupted years of meditation in a small windowless hut and other such personal experiences in his life devoted to spiritual enlightenment. Even just in the first 21 years of it, having been recognized as the reincarnation of the previous lama at an early age, he has a lot of interesting stories to tell.

The young monks went home to their families over the weekend, and this afforded us the opportunity ... [I'm sorry if I've started to sound more formal in my word choices, as I get the sense that I am. With the Classics being the only English books to be found in the Xining bookstore, I've been reading Charles Dickens lately, and I believe, as one of my few sources of English communication in this secluded little part of Asia, it's managed to make me think as if people still speak the way they did at the time it was written. It's also made me think I can continue any sentence for as long as I should like provided I insert enough commas to keep it going. But I've become conscious of these new tendencies and will try my best to keep them in check] ... As I was saying, we had the chance to stay with a group of Nomads in their traditional brown yak hair tents and get a feel for that sort of lifestyle, which 80% of Tibetans still lead. Each of these tents, or at least the 5 I was shuffled between for neverending cups of tea during our stay, are set up exactly the same. Immediately left of the entrance is the heaping mound of yak dung, which is used to fuel the stove built out of stone and clay in the centre. The next corner on the far left then holds cooking instruments while the space directly opposite the entrance is a stand for butter candles, photos of famous lamas and other personal prayer devices like prayer wheels and scripture books. The right side of the tent usually has enough space for 2 beds, though these also serve as couches, tables and countertops during the day. It seems about as simple a life as can be found the way time passes with yaks grazing calmly and children playing noisily on the sloping green grassland surrounded by snowy peaks. The families were extremely friendly and welcoming as they served up as much dried yak meat and yogurt (the freshest, most delicious I've ever tasted) as I could possibly handle.

As my time in Tibet comes near to its end, I feel totally satisfied with all I've been able to see and do here. Looking back I'm surprised to recall the amount that has happened in just 5 weeks since departing Kathmandu. In leaving soon, it's not at all with the sad heart and great sense of attachment that I felt in Nepal, but rather a joy at having had a fully positive experience in a very unique part of the world and readiness to soon be back home amongst my cherished friends and family there.

And so it's now time to say one last Namaste. As much or as little as you may have kept up with this blog, thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing in the journey with me. It's been a thrill and at times a much needed comfort to know that there have always been friends and family out there to read through all these jumbled thoughts and observations along the way. Thank you for that.

Peace, Love & Happiness to All!

Tibet Post #3 - Life on the Plateau

Monday, June 20

I may have spoken too soon about the butter in the tea. Perhaps my family was trying to ease me into this particular unpleasant experience by avoiding it in the first week, but now it's with an air of providing me a great treat that I'll often be presented with a steaming bowl full to the brim with large lumps of butter melting away at the surface. It is not very tasty.

Otherwise, though, things have only been getting better around here as I've become accustomed to my new environment. The days are passing peacefully as I continue to help with the rebuilding around the neighbourhood. A few new updates to share:

1. A lot of the Chinese workers left. People were speculating that they had too much trouble working on the high altitude / low oxygen plateau or else maybe had some problems with the locals. On the surface there's a tolerant harmony established between the Han Chinese and the Tibetans, but tensions occasionally rise up from underneath I guess. In any case, nobody seems to know the specifics of the sudden departure, but it seems to me to be quite a blow to the already slow-moving recovery process. I feel for all the people who now have even longer to wait for a house to move into, but the people themselves appear to have no limits to their patience on this matter (and many others). Most here are in no rush for anything at all, even as they mop lakes of rainwater from the middle of their tents, from which they can see clear across one side of the town to the other with no buildings around to block the view.

2. My host sister left for a few days to pick up a new Chilean volunteer from the nearest airport (a 3 day task at minimum), so I was left without an English-speaking translator. This, I very much enjoyed, as my host mother and I had to get very creative with hand gestures, and I picked up a great deal more Tibetan words out of necessity.

3. The school has been on holiday since I arrived. This isn't typical holiday time in the rest of the country, but in this particular area some valuable type of caterpillar can be found and harvested right in these few weeks, so the schools are closed to allow the children to help their families with the hunt. It's hard to get a complete description of what exactly the caterpillars are used for, but I've been told it's like medicine to give strength. People will put them in their drinks to stay healthy. I'm not sure in what form they're added (crushed? powdered? chopped? whole??), but there must be a lot of faith in them as they're very expensive.

So, even though my project here was originally intended to be teaching, I've been perfectly content to be working on earthquake recovery efforts instead and found myself not at all disappointed to hear that the school, instead of opening back up today, won't resume classes until the 24th (perhaps there are yet more caterpillars to be uncovered out there). I've been teaching English for a couple hours most evenings (between tea and dinner) to the neighbour's kids anyway, and the 1:2 ratio is pretty enjoyable.

Thus, all goes well here as I continue to enjoy the views from the elevated outdoor "toilet" (despite the traverse through a yard full of massive dogs and yaks looking to attack to reach it), am happy to be reacquainted with hot water for showers (even if they're done by bucket in the kitchen...still feels like an upgrade), and have progressed from eating with my hand to a pair of chopsticks. Feels like I've jumped at least 100 years forward in terms of the development of comforts in human history just within the past two weeks. Even my bed has an actual mattress on it!

Tibet Post #2: Post-Earthquake Town

Monday, June 13

I'm now comfortably settled in with my new host family in the small broken-down village of Chenduo, a part of the Yushu Prefecture up on the Tibetan Plateau. There has been little (hardly any at all) recovery from the earthquake that happened last April, and most of the locals are still living in tents beside the crumbled piles of stone and dirt that used to be their homes. It's like one big construction zone. Even shops are schools have been reduced to a collection of tents while the rebuilding takes place. In short it all looks very temporary and yet this is how they've been living for 14 months now, and by the looks of things will continue to live for quite some time to come. I guess it took an entire year for the government support to come into effect, so no real efforts started up until just within the last 2 months. So, in the village itself, there's not much to see, but the surrounding mountains on all sides of the narrow valley are wonderful. It's a very peaceful place.

I've been absolutely loving my work helping neighbours to shovel dirt, mix concrete or put up walls. At first, I was with a team of Chinese workers who'd come in from Sichuan Province to earn some extra money now that farming has become all automated at home and there's not enough work left for them there. Construction with them was well underway and the outline of a house was starting to take shape. But when they didn't show up on the 2nd day because of some drizzling rain, I started up with the family just behind our own cluster of tents. Even though the quake was a full 14 months ago, this yard looked like it could've been only one week. It's just a grandmother, grandfather and young grandson that live there, with the son/father being a nomad and away from the village most of the time. Their "home" is just a big mound of earth still, so I've been digging through and separating the large stones away from the dirt to be used to rebuild. The family is quite poor so can't afford any equipment or extra help to speed things along. The work is fun out in the clean, fresh air and the family is extremely appreciative, so even though there's talk of helping rebuild the orphanage or helping at other yards in the neighbourhood, I'd be perfectly happy staying with this project as long as there's still work there that I'm capable of doing.

In terms of culture, this is a fascinating place to be. The lifestyle is at once both simple and advanced, with more years of human history than I, as a Western Canadian, can hardly fathom. Buddhism is deeply ingrained in every part of the lifestyle and those beliefs are used to explain everything that happens from small daily events to massive upheavals like the earthquake. Being totally immersed in the family offers endless interesting insights into the mindset, and I enjoy hearing all the stories of famous reincarnations or the actions of great lamas in this area over a thousand years ago. The culture is also very closely linked to nature, with mountains, rivers, the sky etc all having their own spirits. This is why Tibetans won't partake in mining or chopping down trees in holy places. Every life is considered valuable, so they tend not to eat small animals like fish or chickens (figuring that if they must eat meat to survive in the high altitude, somewhat harsh environment, they might as well make it a big one like a yak to feed the most people).

I didn't know what to expect from the food here, but have found it all very tasty. And after nothing but dal bhat for 10 months straight, the variety of dishes is almost overwhelming. It's usually some kind of noodle soup for dinner, rice with assorted stir-fry dishes for lunch, and the staple food, tsampa, for breakfast. Tsampa is barley flour, yak butter, yak cheese, yak milk tea, and sometimes sugar all mixed together to make a rather tasty clump of breakfast paste. In the afternoon, there's also a break for tea, more appropriately called "small dinner" given the amount of food served, which is how it directly translates. But this is far from the only time for tea during the day. They seem to drink it non-stop from morning to night. I don't think I've read an account of Tibetan culture without finding reference (usually highly shocked and disgusted) to the tea. I don't know why they put the salt into it, but am relieved to say I didn't find it nearly as painfully undrinkable as it would seem. In fact, I was able to acquire a taste for it within the first few sips after the initial surprise at the unfamiliar flavour wore off. Perhaps I'm just lucky that my family doesn't also add butter to make the more traditional, and I'm I'm sure much harder to get used to, drink of choice.

Back in the Big City

After a long absence from internet, cell phones and most other signs indicating the current century we're living in, I have returned to Kathmandu and the place has never looked so advanced. All is relative I suppose. I'm only here for a few days. Just long enough to squeeze in a book release, a ceremony at the small library I supported, visits to my old school & host family, editing of a new class 10 textbook to be published and to record my voice for some audio CDs to be produced. Actually it's not quite enough time for all the things I'd like to do / people I'd like to see being back here again, but it looks as if extending my trip by about another year is not quite possible.

My time in Tibet was fascinating, exhilarating and calming all at once. I wrote blog entries in my notebook to try to capture more of my thoughts in the moment rather than a more hazy summary after the fact. There are 4 of these altogether and I'll be typing them up over the next little while (when I find the time and motivation) as I slowly make my way back home. It's far too many words to take in all at once anyway, so any readers still hanging on out there will probably appreciate some short delays between posts. With that said, here we go:

TIBET BLOG #1 - Saturday, June 4 - Tour to THE Mountain

Right now I'm in Xining, China after a spectacular and eventful week and a half since departing Kathmandu. Being in Nepal for so long must've lulled me into a sleepy comfort about the ease of moving about in foreign lands because, I must admit, I came completely unprepared to this new country. It was only after arriving that it dawned on me how little I knew of Chinese or Tibetan languages (zilch) or really the country in general. I'm sure, now, that a big part of what made the Nepal transition feel so seamless and natural was all that I had learned about the culture & language before getting there. All this effort I had completely forgotten, so as I dove in head first, it was with slight surprise in mid-air to find that it was directly into the very deepest end of the pool that I was headed.

In Western China and within Tibet itself, there's hardly any presence of English whatsoever, so I found myself doing a whole lot of pointing, hand-gesturing and laughing to make myself understood. Well, the laughing didn't exactly help with the understanding, but it did keep people from either getting frustrated with my ignorance or completely giving up on trying to help the out-of-place Canadian that wound up in a part of the world not commonly tread upon by foreigners. Simple things like getting taxis and using a payphone at the airport in particular turned into highly amusing processes. But once I met up with my hosts all went very smoothly and I was extremely well taken care of.

I still had a week before my project was to start, so after 2 days in Xining, I boarded the new train to Lhasa, the old heart of Tibet. Up on the plateau between there and the Nepal border, I heard so many times I was standing in front of the highest something (lake, wetlands, palace, monastery, river, blade of grass...you name it), that I almost forgot to be impressed when I eventually laid eyes upon the world's very highest point. But that first glimpse was at a distance on a cloudy day. There was no denying its awesome presence upon turning up right at its feet and sleeping at its base overnight. Sagarmatha to the Nepalis, Qomolangma to the Tibetans, and Mt.Everest to the Westerners, there's probably not a culture in the world that doesn't hold the tallest peak with some sort of reverence. I, myself, must've taken about a hundred photos of its North face in an attempt to capture it under the absolute best of lighting conditions as the sun was setting, though on reviewing those pictures I have no idea how to judge which the very best of these might be.

All in all, I can't imagine a better introduction to Tibet and am now looking forward to heading off to a small place very far removed from anything at all.

A Mixture of Emotions

Well, the span of my experience here in Nepal is down to its final few moments. I’m not sure I had ever thought the last days would actually arrive, but now that it has I find my heart and mind to be rapidly flipping back and forth within a rather extreme range of emotions. It’s with great sadness that I’m leaving this place and saying goodbye to people who now feel very integral to my life. The connections I’ve made to some of my family and friends are stronger than I would’ve ever thought possible. The downside to this is that I will soon be living on the exact opposite side of the world and unable to see them anytime I want. But, the positive is that I know some of these relationships are now too strong to be broken by me moving some great distance away. They are lifelong bonds that I will always cherish. But at the very same time as I deal with the sadness of goodbyes, or perhaps a split-second before and after, I’m greatly excited about my upcoming adventure in Tibet / China and also know how happy I’ll be to be back at home when I finally reach there around the middle of July. It literally is only split-seconds in between these ecstatically happy and depressingly sad emotions, so it’s hard to say at any moment whether I’m more tempted to laugh, cry, dance, sulk, sing or wallow. At times I’ve attempted all of the above at once to the (unsurprising) result of confirming everyone’s view that I am, indeed, losing my mind.

First, to summarize Nepal. Though an impossible task, I would like to attempt to at least touch on what this experience has meant to me. When I think back to the beginning and all the daily confusions, uncertainties, tribulations, and unfamiliarities, I realize not only how far I’ve come in adjusting to this environment, but also in whole-heartedly embracing all that surrounds me here. Daily life in this no-longer-remotely-foreign land has come to feel perfectly natural. Second nature indeed. I will always be first of all Canadian, but I can’t help but feel a large part of me has now turned Nepali. [Wow, writing like this is difficult. I feel like none of my words are adequate to express what has happened in my time here. I now understand why every other volunteer blog I’ve ever read has merely trailed off before the end to leave all the readers hanging in the dark about how it all came to a close. Bear with me as I continue my attempt anyway.] In my time here I have learned a whole lot about myself, the world, and life itself. Being thrown into situations that are unexpected or often times unclear (due to language or other cultural barriers) is a great way for a person to find out how she will react to a huge range of circumstances. It forces a much closer look at oneself as many of the things we do without thinking or realizing can stand out as extremely odd in a place like this. And thus arises the question, “is it odd or not?”. “Which way is possibly the better way?” Then, of course, on the flip side are all the things people around here may do without thinking that struck me as different at first. There have just been so many stimulating thoughts to work out and ideas to consider. I’m glad I was able (and still amazed it was possible) to come for long enough that the thought of leaving didn’t even cross my mind for the bulk of my time here. That is what has allowed me to completely establish myself at the school, implement some long-term projects that I’m extremely proud of, totally immerse myself in the culture to explore all its fascinating depths and intricacies, gain great comfort with the language, and come to know and love many people here not only in their present condition, but also with full understanding of all their unique and varied histories. It’s also what makes it feel like such a painful uprooting at this point in time.

Now on to Tibet. I have a little over a week in between when I must leave Nepal (for visa reasons) and when my Tibetan volunteer project starts up, so after flying into Xining, China I’ll be going by train to tour around Lhasa and then on to the Everest Base Camp on the north side of the border with Nepal. It’ll be nice to have a brief journey as tourist to see at least a few things before joining up with a new host family and seeing more what daily Tibetan lifestyle is like. From Xining, where I’ll meet my host sister, it’s about a 14 hour bus ride in a southwesterly direction to what sounds like possibly one of the most remote places on earth. Having just attributed most of my joy and success here in Nepal to the length of time I was able to stay, it is with slight contradiction that I now head off for only a one month volunteering stint. Though I’m realistically aware of my limitations to make any substantial or lasting contributions in a short 4 week period, I’m still very much looking forward to the experience. I do hope to do some good, and my experience here will probably help me make the most of it, but it’s likely on this next stage I will gain a lot more from it for myself than I can ever hope to return. But I’ll give it my best shot anyway. The plan was to continue in the theme of teaching at a school, but the area was hit by a massive earthquake last spring and is still burdened by the recovery process. So along with teaching, there will likely be the chance to help rebuild as well. Once again, I find myself heading off into largely unknown territory with not much idea what exactly will be in store for me. Even after all this time in its next door neighbouring country, I have only vague notions about what this next stretch of time will be like. I’ll be sure provide as best descriptions as I can, though they may come quite a bit after the fact. I’m not sure how easily I might be able to find internet while there, and with the Chinese government being notoriously strict on internet censorship and that sort of thing, I likely won’t attempt another post until I’ve come back out again. So expect a bit of a hiatus until early July when I’ll be happy to provide a final recount of my experiences alongside the himalayas, this time from the other side. Namaste for now.

Better to Banda than to Break

Today was a nationwide banda (strike), meaning all shops were closed, there was no traffic on the roads and basically not a single person in the country was supposed to do any work at all. The reason for this particular one depends on who you ask. Some would say it's because one of the castes is pushing for splitting up the country and preferential political rights for themselves, others might tell you it was to make a statement about what's sure to be yet another failed attempt at having a constitution written by the (latest) deadline, and others still will cite the main reason as a protest against the continued load-shedding issues and constant water and petrol shortages. I have many opinions about each of these, but don't intend to turn this blog political at all so I'll keep them offline. Regardless, nobody seems to mind these strikes all that much because the average citizen views these political matters either with amusement or indifference and it mostly just means an extra day off work where the men can gather and play cards, the women can sit around a gab, and the kids can take over the streets with their games and bicycles without having to jump out of the way of whizzing motorcycles or lumbering buses every few seconds.

For me, the banda was also much appreciated because it allowed us to finally get the last of the organizing and editing done on our English conversation book. It had been a slow process after finishing the majority of the writing back in January and then facing many delays with the typist. It's interesting trying to get some actual work accomplished in a place where meetings or appointments are almost unheard of. We would agree to a time to go to the typist's "office" , but instead of being able to schedule a block of time and being able to count on it to be used for our project alone, the priority seemed to always go to the most persistently obnoxious of people trying to squeeze through the door. Being able to complain and argue your way to cut in front of others in any sort of waiting situation is quite the art form here. Thus, many long evenings were spent sitting in the tiny space jostling amongst others for some attention to be paid to one's own project. For every 3 hours spent there, I'd estimate roughly 40 minutes of the typist's time was spent in discussions about whose work should be done next, around an hour spent on typing some other's work who had come in with the most urgent of pleas, another hour broken up in assorted 5 minute chunks for simple printing jobs from memory sticks thrown in his face (most of which dragged out with fixing printer jams and ink failures), and a mere 20 minutes devoted to our task. So progress did not feel quick and it seemed we only got any work done at all by being willing to stay the latest, well after most shops had closed up.

I apologize, I did not plan to write an entire paragraph on the typist delays, but as I got started I realized it makes for a pretty good example of how differently (inefficiently?) things can be done here. But anyway, today was a banda and no shop was supposed to be open, so all went very smoothly without any interference whatsoever from other customers. We (the head teacher, the typist and I) were able to spend the majority of the day huddled around the computer putting all the chapters where they ought to be and finalizing things like forewords and cover pages. Editing is definitely a long process. But despite being trapped in the 5 ft by 7 ft room with the metal shopfront pulled down tight, the shouts and commotions of the Maoists out in the street with their long sticks as they stopped anyone attempting to go past on a motorcycle, and only a bare bulb casting its artificial glare down upon us (all of which creating a rather prison-like atmosphere), it was a good day and makes me happy to feel like the end of this one project is finally within sight. Barring any unexpected circumstances, which are about 90% likely, we hope to be able to take it to the publisher tomorrow afternoon.

It rained quite heavily today, which I couldn't see from within my closed off windowless cell but could at least hear. This has been happening from time to time now that the weather's getting quite hot and monsoon season is just around the corner. The other day it even hailed along with the big rain and heavy winds. This disrupted classes for about 30 minutes as it became too noisy to hear what even the person right next to you was saying and we all watched from the doorways of our classrooms. But when the noise died down enough to resume teaching, I made my way to class 10 for an English lesson. Here, with the clouds so dark (and remember no lights in the school) that I couldn't make out anyone's face past the second row, I had to stand right beside the window, accepting some splashes of rain on the pages in order to get enough light on the book to teach from. Regardless of the poor visibility, we had a rather enjoyable lesson making up stories and inventing extra details beyond what could actually be seen in the sketches provided. Not being able to see or read easily: just one of the many possible interferences to teaching and learning that I can't say I ever encountered as a kid growing up in my well-sheltered, well-lit schools. But it's remarkable the way a person can become easily accustomed to these things. In fact, I don't think I even recognized it as a noteworthy day until I sat down to write this blog post. Nowadays it takes a bit of brain-wracking to think of what may make for an event of interest as this all feels exceptionally normal to me. Yes, I could be in for quite the shock when my feet once again hit Canadian soil.

Happy New Year!

Yesterday was the first day of Nepali new year, 2068. To celebrate, the whole family gathered for a picnic near a temple beside the Bagmati River, not too far from our house. In traditional Nepali style, this picnic involved a whole lot of food, much dancing, some tika, a moment for puja, a few games somewhat related to the likes of charades and duck-duck-goose though distinctly different, and, of course, a great deal of...

...hockey? Alright there may have been a little foreign influence on that last part, but I swear it was the kids who insisted on bringing our sticks and jerseys. Yes, we have jerseys.

It seems hockey has become the entire focus of my little nephew's life. I'm quite sure he's the only person in Nepal who can spell everything from Pittsburgh Penguins to Vancouver Canucks and he has quickly picked up the names for all the variety of penalties possible (not to mention become rather effective at putting them to good use). His questions are very specific and cover off every last detail of the game. After I told him about the type of water bottles players use, he poked a hole in the top of an empty Sprite bottle and spent the whole day practicing squirting water into his mouth. But mostly it all ended up down his shirt or sometimes, as he said, "nose going happened". So, as you can tell, I'm teaching him only the important things in my limited time here. Unfortunately, as can be seen in the photos with a Maple Leaf on his chest, he's a little bit confused about which teams are the good ones. I'm still working on setting him straight.

Earlier this week were some interesting meetings amongst other members of the local education community. We were discussing how best to develop government schools in the area. Public schools around here have quite the challenge to retain students because so many private schools have taken root and can promise English-medium instruction and higher rates of passing exams. Not all of them achieve their results in a wholly legitimate way. I've heard reports of some schools, knowing that on the School Leaving Certificate exams only class 10 material is tested and not any previous years, will skip class 9 subjects and teach the class 10 textbook in both class 9 and 10 to give the students 2 full years of learning specifically what they will be tested on. Yet there's no denying that most usually they are the better option if the parents can afford it. Even in those rare cases where they may be left with a small gap where all the information from class 9 is supposed to fit, there's a definite advantage in Nepali society to be learning in English and of course have access to facilities like science and computer labs. So government schools have started to struggle with dropping numbers of students each year, which is of great concern to many, and most of all the Head Teachers.

Sunday is the start of the new school year, and today was a final meeting amongst our teachers to set the daily routine and decide important matters like which class will be in which classroom. Things seemed to get heated on the topic of whether to provide tea to the students or not. Though it's possible I misinterpreted some parts of it. My understanding of Nepali drops dramatically when 3 people are trying to talk over each other all at once and as rapidly as they can. The biggest issue of contention, though, is surrounding school fees. The Head Teacher wants to abolish all fees and make the school completely free. I support him in this attempt to make education available for all, especially in a place where it's very common to send young children from poor families to work at a very early age. But, there's been a lot of pushback from the other teachers who don't think this is possible. In my view, it would be a great thing to put into action. Rather than spending so much time and effort trying to think of how to attract students back from the private schools, as discussed in the previous paragraph, I think being able to attract the students that currently aren't going to school at all is the way to go.

All in all, I'm excited to be entering into a brand new year (for the second time this year), and looking forward to all that's sitting ahead of me on the horizon. There seems to be a great deal in store for the immediate future, including a final 6 weeks here in Nepal, a month in Tibet, perhaps a brief couple weeks of traveling around SE Asia (though the more I think of it lately those couple weeks might be better spent at home for readjustment), and then back to work. It's amazing that all of that can be called "immediate" future now, as returning back home used to seem very far away. I guess that's just the way time works though. It passes. Life happens. The future comes.