Khaana khaanu bhayo? Impressions in Kathmandu

Kathmandu welcomed us warmly for the first week in Nepal. It was a whirlwind of events. We began acquainting ourselves to each other and had our first taste of Nepali culture and food. During the day, staff guided us through preliminary sessions on Nepal and Nepali foods, how to eat with our hands, Nepali culture, introductions to staff and trainees, Peace Corps expectations, health, safety and security briefings, etc. Typically, we had sessions all day from 8am to 3 or 4pm, with communal breakfast, lunch and dinner, and a couple of tea breaks interspersed. The Nepali people drink tea (chiyaa) every day, several times a day, in the morning and afternoon. It is almost always milk tea or sweetened black tea. It is also dangerously good.

Our training room for the first week in Kathmandu.

Food (and tea) is a grounding tenet of Nepali culture. It is so important that one of the most common greetings is “Tapaaile khana khanu bhayo?” This literally translates to “Have you eaten?” to which one may respond, “khaye" (I have eaten).

 

Specifically, one of the most iconic symbols of Nepal, as we learned, is daal bhaat (literally: lentil rice). Daal bhaat is a daily staple that is eaten twice a day. No meal (khana) is valid without a generous helping of it, and all else is considered a snack or side food (khaja). It is eaten with the right hand and served with curried vegetables (tarkari) and achar*, a fermented tomato sauce. There are often other pieces served with dal bhaat, such as potato (aloo), or greens (saag), but all these are secondary in importance. Repeat after me: daal, bhaat, tarkari, achar. Daal, bhaat, tarkari, achar. This is the Nepali way.

*Achar is commonly referred to as “pickle,” but is more accurately described as a fermented sauce with tomato, spices and veg (fermented radish); it will not surprise my family that I delight in it, because of its spicy and sour overtones.

Left: a luxurious spread from the hostel canteen. From rice, clockwise: bhaat (rice), daal (lentil), salad (salad), achar (fermented tomato sauce), saag (cooked greens), tarkari (curried veg), and mutton curry (a rarity in most households). Right: a more typical representation of daily dal bhaat from the kitchen of my first host family. From top to bottom, left to right: achar (fermented tomato sauce), daal (lentils), tarkari (curried vegetables), bhaat (rice), and aloo (potatoes).

If the food is the best part of Nepal so far, the worst has been the mosquitoes. I quickly learned that I am not to expose skin without freely availing myself as a blood offering to the millions of mosquitoes that live here. After five days I racked up 21 mosquito bites. There’s also something about tropical mosquitoes that makes my body especially reactive to bites, which is unfortunate (and by unfortunate, I mean horrifically itchy, swollen, and uncomfortable for days). I’m hoping that mosquitoes are not as bad at my permanent site, and/or during the dry season - it is monsoon season currently, with heavy rains every day.

What I have learned: wearing flip flops anywhere is a risk. Going barefoot, inside, is also a risk. Even with window screens and vaporized mosquito killer, I consistently get bitten in the house if I am not covered or not wearing socks. I wish I were kidding. I am also so, so glad that I packed lots of heavy wool socks.

Pain.

Our training schedule this first week was packed [although it is even more packed now, as I write this from our third week in]. We spent all day in sessions listening, discussing, exploring, pondering, learning, and acclimating. As the first troupe back to Nepal since the COVID evacuation, the staff had worked very hard for the program relaunch and were so happy to have us.

Wednesday, the 10^th, our pre-service training (PST) sites and host families were revealed. This is where we would be spending the next two and a half months undergoing personal, technical, and language training, and living with Nepali host families. We learned that we would be separated by our respective sectors (education and agriculture), and then further into training “clusters” of 3-4 trainees who would work closely together in living arrangements and language sessions.

Gathered for the training host family and cluster site reveal activity - an exciting affair.

Friday the 11^th was our departure day; it was a bittersweet moment, as we had become closer as a group and attached to our hostel.

After we loaded up our buses and clambered in to set off, the agriculture volunteer bus failed to start. The bus drivers attempted to start it several times without success.  We waited about an hour while the bus drivers looked at the motor; logistical backups were formulated. Fortunately, the drivers fixed the issue before much longer and we were able to continue as planned, if only a bit late.

The bus started running again with a little encouragement.

Agriculture crew ready to go! There are 10 of us in our cohort.

***

Throughout the week, we had some free time to do what we wanted. Many of us took these opportunities to explore the neighborhood a bit. One afternoon, we had gone out for some errand shopping at a department store about a mile and a half away. It took longer than expected to get our tasks done; as we meandered inside, the heavy monsoon rains rolled in.

The walk back to the hostel was long in the dark and the rain. At first, we chatted amongst ourselves; but soon we fell into a thoughtful silence. Thunder and lightning rumbled and flashed over the dimly lit sprawl. A giant toad hopped into our path while we crossed one road - it gave us a leery stare before hopping aside. Nepalis crouched on the steps of houses, talking, and stopped to watch us pass with curious eyes. Dogs slept like bagels on sidewalk shop patios as the rain poured off into the street in a constant stream of splicker splatters.

By the time we arrived back to the hostel, we were soaked through. The group dispersed to dry off, change, and join the others for dinner. I stood on the veranda and looked out toward the city.

And it felt just right.

Scenes from Kathmandu.