I love my job.
Literally, no day is exactly alike. Trying to explain to people what my work
actually involves can be difficult though. When I ask for time for interviews
with members of my Nepali congregation, their primary question is, “well, when
do you have leisure time?” I haven’t found an adequate way to express that my
“work” involves hanging out with them and drawing out their thoughts on issues
pertaining to music, practice, and faith! Knowing that my “work” is in Western
Nepal, other Nepali friends ask if I’m on holiday now that I’m in Kathmandu? I
try and explain that, while I may not go to an office every day, I do have work
to do—and I am free to arrange my time accordingly.
Here is a recent day
I had. Perhaps this will give you an idea of what a “typical work day” for me
involves!
6:00AM—Sometimes, these
turn into 6:30 or 6:45, depending on how late I went to bed the night before. I
have a morning routine of breakfast, Bible readings, and prayer that I try to
adhere to daily.
8:00AM—Normally, I
would be translating the portion of Ashok Tharu’s work on the sakya-paiya
(wrestling with Sanskritized Nepali, random Hindi terms, and philosophical
vocabulary), but today, I decide to prep for my interview with Robert Karthak
instead. I only just finalized my questions for him, and, while I hope to do
the interview in English, I decide that I should review asking my questions in
Nepali, just in case. I make notes of key words in Nepali that are not in my
immediate vocabulary on my interview sheet.
8:30AM—I call my
daju (respected older brother) Karjun, who drives a taxi, reminding him that
he’s picking me up at 9:30 to take me to Gyaneshwar Church so I can meet with
Robert Karthak. He says he’ll meet me in front of the Greenwich Village
Hotel—just around the corner from my apartment (or rather the flat I’m house
sitting)—which is his usual hang-out spot while awaiting customers. After this
call, I resume reviewing my interview questions.
9:15AM—I receive a call
from Karjun, telling me that he’s ready when I am. He is the one exception to
the rule of “Nepali time”—Karjun is consistently fifteen minutes early to an
appointment rather than 30 to 60 minutes late. I can’t help but wonder if he
and my Granddaddy Bliss are distantly related…
9:30AM—I hop into
Karjun’s waiting taxi, and apologize for being late—I tell him couldn’t find my
umbrella. In this monsoon weather, no one should leave the house without one.
Karjun just comments that that’s why he came early. As we drive to Gyaneshwar, Karjun
points out that the Immigration Office has moved from Maithi Ghar to Anem
Nagar—something I will find useful in the coming months when I need to renew my
visa—and which are his favorite songs on the radio. He has us listening to Good
News FM all the way.
10:05AM—Despite the
traffic, Karjun is able to get me to Gyaneshwar relatively on time. He asks me
what time I will be finished? I say I don’t know, but not to worry, I can find
my own way back. He gives me an incredulous look, “Pukka ho? (Really?).” I
smile sweetly and assure him “Yes.”
Robert Karthak is
waiting just inside the gate of the church complex for me. I have been excited
about this meeting for days—Karthak is one of the founding members of
Gyaneshwar, and one of the first Nepali Christians to enter Nepal after the
country opened in 1950. We find an empty classroom, and as I set up my
recorder, he asks me about myself. I tell him my connection to Nepal, and who
else I’ve talked to on this subject. When he hears that I’ve already talked to
Dr. Rongong, he comments that he can’t have much to add, as Dr. Rongong is the
“expert” on Nepali church history. I tell him that Dr. Rongong specifically
told me to ask my questions concerning the beginnings of “stuti prashansha” to
him—as Dr. Rongong was in the States working on his PhD at the time—and that
it’s a good idea to ask a set of questions to more than one person when doing
research. I ask my questions concerning the history of Christian practices—men
and women sitting separately, church services on Saturdays, the practice of
“stuti prashansha,” and the challenges that a Hindu culture gives in explaining
Christian rites like baptism and the Lord’s Supper, among others. Karthak
decides that I speak Nepali well, so decides to give his answers in Nepali
(even though he is fluent in English himself). While he says I am free
to ask my questions in English, I decide inwardly that I should just challenge
myself to ask my questions in Nepali. While I do have to explain a few things
in English, and Karthak occasionally intersperses English words into his Nepali
sentences, the majority of our conversation is in Nepali. The interview lasts
about an hour. When we’re finished, I thank him for his time, give him my
visiting card, and find a taxi home, all with his blessing.
11:30AM—The first
thing I do is download and back up my interview recording to my computer and
external hard drive. I check email and Facebook while eating Nicoise salad.
I’ve been on a raw veggies streak all summer—I seem to be making up for the
lack of fresh veggies from my previous time in Dang.
12:30PM—I leave my
flat and make for Man Bhawan, where my former research associate institution
is—Salvation Worship Ministries. I have a 1PM appointment with Solomon, who is
transcribing interviews I took during my last visit to Dang. Writing in Nepali
is a tedious process for me, as my spelling is atrocious, and I can’t always
distinguish nuances between sounds (was that “da, dha, Da, or Dha?! Or maybe
“ngha”?!), and the wrong sound transcribed could mean completely different word
and meaning. Solomon, a performing musician, was interested in an opportunity
for extra income, so I hired and have been training him in interview
transcription. He had texted me the day before that the most recent interviews
were done, and upon further texting, we arranged to meet between his music
classes at SWM for the handover.
It has been exciting
each time to see my interviews in textual form. I ask him what he thought of
the interviews? Solomon comments that he enjoyed these last interviews—he
didn’t realize how rich Tharu music culture was, and how integrated it was to
other aspects of Tharu life. The two people I interviewed—a village leader and
a shaman—were especially good at explaining the ins-and-outs of these cultural
aspects. He himself is Limbu, from Eastern Nepal, and he isn’t aware of any
comparative traditions within his jat.
We tally up his hours and agree on the amount I am to pay him, and arrange for
me deliver the payment, and two additional interviews for him to transcribe, on Saturday.
2:00PM—Because I’m
in the area, I visit Claire—my housemate—at the WomenLEAD office. Claire is
someone I grew up with in Nepal; she helped found and is running an institute
that equips high school senior girls with leadership skills. The institute is
situated in two bungalows on a tract of government land where the institute’s
neighbors are government or political organizations that advocate for the
rights and issues pertaining to Muslims, Dalits, and women, and what appears to
be a curriculum development department—with a well-frequented canteen smack in
the middle of the complex. I meet the staff, and comment on how good
the grounds look. Claire waves at the broken-down shed by the gate, with rotting
door and window frames and tall weeds growing out of the smashed glass
windows—that was what all their
buildings looked like when they first signed the lease! In addition to creating
curriculum, Claire has dealt with contractors and subcontractors to rebuild the
bungalows, install toilets, among other things. On my walk home, I buy fruits
and veggies in Jawalekhel, and take pictures of the Kolor Kathmandu murals that
decorate the back wall of the zoo.
3:00PM—I decide to
spend my afternoon under the fan reading a book—If Each Comes Halfway: Meeting Tamang Women In Nepal by Kathryn
March—accompanied by a tall glass of iced tea. When its not raining in
Kathmandu, it can be drainingly hot during monsoon. Kathryn March’s book is one
of many that I’ve picked up from Mandala Book Point or Wisdom Books over the
course of my time in Nepal. Being out in Dang, I can only take what I can carry
on my back, which excludes books. I do my best to catch up on reading when I’m
in Kathmandu.
6:30PM—Tila Chaudhary
comes by my place to help me transcribe the Tharu lyrics of the songs I’ve
recorded. This is where perhaps I got lucky in my research topic—Tharu uses the
same Devanagari alphabet as Nepali, so as Tila dictates sounds to me, I can
write down the Tharu words (Also, while Tharu songs can be long, they involve a
lot of repetition. A six-minute song only has two-minutes worth of words!).
Then Tila explains their meaning in Nepali.
I attempt to document all of the Tharu
vocabulary meanings she gives me in Nepali. She comments that I can write down
meanings in English if I want to, as that’s perhaps easiest for me. I tell her
that sometimes I do—for example, beside the Tharu word “naaTha” and its Nepali equivalent
“nattha,” I wrote in English “the rope through the nose and over the back of
the head of a water buffalo or cow,” because I couldn’t think of an immediate
English word equivalent (halter? though those are usually leather…). She
laughed. I tell her that, it is easier if I write the meanings in Nepali, that
way, she will know whether I really understood things or not. Tila realizes
that she’s working triple time—she has to explain things three or four ways in
Nepali because of my limited vocabulary, as well as explain Tharu cultural mores as we
go through the content of the songs (Why do they keep singing “sakhi ra?”
What’s with all the jewelry inventories in these songs? Are there set lyrics to
these songs, or are people just singing whatever pops into their head?). She’s
very patient, has a sense of humor, and thankfully enjoys this word play. Plus,
I sometimes send her home with baked goods made by the cook that my housemate
and I can’t eat as fast as he bakes them.
8:00PM—After Tila
leaves, I eat dinner, and try and make some headway on my translation of Ashok
Tharu’s work. I’ll be meeting with my language instructor the next day, which,
in addition to discussing the dozen or so words I’ve highlighted in
yellow—which means I cannot find in my dictionary, and cannot guess from the
context—or my confusion over unfamiliar grammatical structures, I anticipate
that our conversation will also be about the month of Shrawan (for another blog
post), her preparation for teaching Nepali to the incoming Fulbright ETAs, and
asking if all my former housemates—also Fulbrighters from my cohort—made it
safely back to the US (I’m the only one left here).
10:00PM—after a
shower (Nepalis bathe in the morning; I bathe at night to clean off all the
Kathmandu dirt, smog, and sweat accumulated during the day in attempt to keep
my bed sheets cleaner), I am in bed.
