That’s Just A Trick of the Mind…

Growing a bit tired and frusterated with an aspect of Nepali culture that we identitfy specifically with males. So many of the teachers here have at some point or another taken me aside, grabbed me by an arm, and demanded me to confirm a conception of America in which the streets are lined with “too much money”. They want to know how much Sandeep, a Nepali friend from Philadelphia, makes every year. Most share a vague ambition to get to America to become rich. I occasionally challenge people on it, with phrases that are cliche in English, and yet are so foreign to a Nepali that they can’t be understood. “Money doesn’t neccesarily make people happier”, and the like. Nothing gets through, and its not the language barrier. The entire worldview is about getting rich enough to leave, to get richer-and this process effectively eliminates all talent and money from Nepal.

I spoke to a most respected and estimable teacher-friend Kailash about it.  I asked if he wanted to leave Nepal. “Yes, why not?” he said. He wants to go to America to become “the richest person in the world”. I asked him if he was happy here, and if he loved Nepal, and he said “of course”.  Where does the desire to leave the country enter this culture? TV? India Forbes magazine?

It’s difficult to assess from my privalege of being an American. If I were not, I wouldn’t have this freedom, to work one summer and travel on the money I made for 6 months. How can I blame Nepali’s for wanting that kind of freedom for thier kids? My enlightenment, to come from a place of such privalege that I can look at this objectively, outside of the cultural stories and circumstance that inform our goals and dreams. Am I above thier trap of thinking they need to leave their home to be happy, I wonder, from the side of the world to which I do not belong? Or do they look at my behaviors and ambitions and see through them, thinking I’m trapped in my analytic mind? Well my friends, that’s just a trick of the mind.

HILARIOUS ZONEEEEEEE

Chalk wunderer I drew on the wall outside of our room.

EPISODIC NATURE

Our last day at the school was magical, one of those “best days” that are increasing at an exponential rate per capita per citizen of this freedom/imagination realm we’ve manifested through the art of traveling.  We had a plan to present a program of film and music, with a basketball competition to tip the potter in the piano, for the whole school to watch. Our time frame didn’t include the surprise ceremony that Kailash planned for us, in true Nepali fashion of maintaining the element of surprise over all else, even though it caused us stress and confusion. But we could learn a lot from the level of patience and trust that Nepali’s tend to demand from us. So the ceremony commenced after school hours.

There was a series of speeches that were so formal that they borderline didn’t mean anything, about how “with great joy comes great sorrow” and including multiple “furthermore’s” and “Henceforth’s” per speech per capita per student to teacher ratio. Then, 1X1, every student in the school bestowed upon us a fatty garland of flowers, or a wrapped gift, or bot, or and best of all, drawings! the genius of which could only come as a result of mistranslated conceptions of Sana Claus and bizarre cartoon ecstacy rituals. It was better than birthday! Garlands stacked, immobilizing our necks, piling to the forehead so that we couldn’t see or breath, outstrectched arms clutching paper and presents. I was worked up to an ecstatic speech in which I jumped up on a chair and professed my love for Nepal and everyone at the school.