Personality Boundaries

December 6, 2011

One of the last nights of my Tibet tour, I had a great conversation with my roommate, Marieke, about our plans after the end of this trip. I don’t remember the exact wording, but paraphrased it went something like this:

Marieke: I really hope I’m able to do some more traveling by myself someday. I feel like you experience so much more solo. Like on buses, if you were with someone, you would just talk to your friend, but solo you talk to all the people sitting around you and learn so much more.

Me: I think the opposite might actually be true for me. I’m not naturally a very good traveler; I don’t pick up language easily, I have no sense of direction, and when I’m lost, I look lost, which tends to get me into trouble. I think there are a lot of things I don’t do solo that I would do if I had a good travel buddy.

Marieke: That is so cool that you recognize that about yourself and say it with such comfort.

Me: What do you mean?

Marieke: Our society values certain personality traits, and sometimes people who don’t have them feel badly about that. Which is silly, because there is nothing wrong with the way they are. I think it’s cool that you know yourself well enough to say you’re not a natural traveler and that you’re happy with that.

A bit later, I realized that Marieke had just put eloquent (and flattering!) words to what made this trip so amazing for me. Spending three months 7,700 miles from my friends and family gave me the space to sit with and manipulate the boundaries of my personality. I discovered many varieties of boundaries, but the two I was most interested in were (1) rigid boundaries that I am much happier if I just accept and (2) malleable boundaries that I always thought were rigid but are not!

(1)  Rigid boundaries are those that are fundamental to my personality and are unlikely to change within my lifetime. Fighting against these boundaries makes me miserable, and I have officially given up the fight. The two best examples in my life are:

·       Food and sunshine have a huge impact on my mood. 90% of the times I am grumpy, if I just eat something it goes away. Why do I fight this so hard? I guess I used to think “Ugh, how sad that my mood is not strong enough to handle being hungry;” but now I think “How awesome that something as cheap and accessible as a granola bar and a spectrum light can keep me smiling!” So, in the spirit of putting this acceptance into practice, I withdrew my grad school application to Illinois and always always always carry a snack with me.

·       I have absolutely no sense of direction. Lonely Planet maps give me just enough information to be dangerous. Sometimes I can keep on the right path if I know where I am on the map to begin with, but I lose my way as soon as I get in a vehicle or stop for a meal. It seems then I always head off in the wrong direction. Or think I went the wrong direction, only to turn around and discover that it was the original direction was correct. So why the heck do I not carry a compass with me?! This is just foolishness. Not having a compass is not going to make me better with maps, it is just going to continue to frustrate me.

(2)  I had to push against those boundaries to conclude they are indeed fixed. But sometimes, happily, if you push against a rigid boundary, it turns out to me malleable! These were the most fun finds for me, when I thought something was true about myself and then it turned out I could change it. I think we just get such a firm self-view sometimes, frequently influenced by the reflection of ourselves we get from loved ones, and some space from that is necessary to investigate whether certain traits are fundamental or not. My favorite new discoveries are:

·       I am not, in fact, a rigid, control freak type. Somehow in the last few months the “ke garne” attitude has entered my bloodstream and I have discovered a flexible, easy-going part of myself I didn’t know existed. This has been made very clear by the two group tours I did recently (Tibet and the Great Wall), where members of my group got incredibly irritated when the plans changed and I was baffled. To me, it was like, “Eh, not the way I thought it would be, but this is still awesome! Why would I let a little change spoil my fun?!” I think getting upset about a change in plans is more likely to spoil a trip than the change in plans itself.

·       My approach of eating whatever was put in front of me this trip has been very beneficial. I can put aside my picky eating when I need to! I’m likely to stick with my favorite foods at home still, but I know for sure that eating weird things will not kill me.

·       My place on the introvert/extrovert scale I think is more flexible than Meyers-Briggs would have me believe. After this trip, I genuinely believe that I can be energized by being alone OR being with people. The trick, I think, is adopting the right attitude about it and seeing the benefit of having both in your life.

Part of me wishes I had been more deliberate about this boundary testing. It definitely happened without prompting, but could I learn more if I intentionally pushed some of them? What would happen if I did something involving children in the spring? Would this be just bad for the kids and bad for me, or might I learn I have some semblance of a nurturing side deep down? Hmmm…

Seven Days in Tibet

December 3, 2011

Tourism in Tibet is always a bit unstable. Three months ago, no foreign tourists were allowed in the region, and now you may only enter if you come with an organized tour. I decided now was the time to see Tibet, since who knows what the future will hold. At first, it was hard for me to readjust to being around people, having spent so much of the last three months alone. I was so used to only paying attention to people talking when they are speaking English (because that’s how I know someone is talking to me) and the rest of the time just observing. Mealtime the first couple of days was really overwhelming for me. I think I heard more English in the first day of this trip than I have the whole rest of my travels. Luckily, I had a fabulous roommate, a nice and friendly Dutch girl named Marieke and I slowly reentered the verbal world.

Me and Marieke on the way to Lhasa

Overall, my adventure in Tibet was fabulous. I really enjoyed seeing the countryside (flying straight into Lhasa just wouldn’t be the same), all the monasteries, and the Tibetan people. I felt in Tibet how most Texans must feel in Colorado—cold and short of breath. Tibet is much more what I expected of the Himalayas than the parts of Nepal I visited. Almost the entire region is over 12,000 feet, much of it barren in the winter. I spent most of the drive thinking, “Oh my gosh, how does anyone sustain life out here?” The short answer is they don’t. Most Tibetans are farmers or nomadic, and during the wintertime they migrate to Lhasa.

Typical Tibetan landscape

Day One: Kathmandu to Neyalam

I’ve always thought that US Customs was pretty intense—turns out it doesn’t hold a candle to the customs process trying to enter China through Tibet. Before we arrived at the border, our guide told us that if we have anything about Free Tibet (even as simple as a Tibetan flag) or the Dalai Lama (even a guide book with a picture of him in it), there was a good chance we would be turned away (especially if were American, apparently we’re trouble makers). In addition, customs officers will confiscate anything else they deem “threatening.” I had a book of speeches by the Dalai Lama that I had to leave in Nepal and then a CD of Buddhist chants I had purchased was confiscated because the title had the word “Tibetan” in it. All Lonely Planet guides in my group, China or Nepal, were confiscated because the maps inside are label the boarder “Tibet” instead of “China” and there is some mention of the political instability in the region. Wowzer. My whole group of 17 made it through without much problem and I was very pleased to have a guide to herd us through the process.

Since customs takes so long, we didn’t see much of Tibet the first day. The terrain is identical on either side of the boarder but you can immediately tell you are no longer in a developing country. Paved roads are the most amazing things in the world. Or maybe second to hot showers.

From the boarder, we drove up to the valley rim, then to our guesthouse in Neyalam at 10,800 feet.

Day Two: Neyalam to Lhatse

This was a big driving day—we drove over two huge passes, many small clusters of houses (villages?) and had Everest views most of the day. All Tibetan houses have the exact same design. They are concrete, painted white, blue and red (always in the same pattern). The white symbolizes compassion, the red, wisdom, and the blue, peace and protection. On a corner of the roof, each house has a pole of prayer flags and each Tibetan New Year they put a new set up.

The two passes we drove over were 15,150 and 15,744 feet, which really put the whole 14er thing in a new perspective. I was in prayer flag heaven in Tibet: the tops of the passes are just covered in them. It’s gorgeous and kind of a nice parallel to the Continental Divide signs at the top of Colorado passes.

love.

Oh yeah, and then there was Everest.

Everest is the big one on the left.

The second night we stayed in Lhaste at 12,150 feet. I had a miserable time acclimatizing. I guess my body’s oxygen threshold is somewhere between 8,850 feet (Fraser) and 12,150 feet. And I remember just enough about HAPE and HACE to completely freak myself out. It was a rough night.

Day Three: Lhatse to Xigatse

Day Three was a nice mellow three-hour drive to Xigatse, the second largest city in Tibet sitting at 11,700 feet. You drive through kilometer after kilometer of barren land, and then all of a sudden there’s this huge city! Xigatse is the home of the Tashilumpo Monastery.

No pictures inside Tibet monasteries

Before the Cultural Revolution, Tashilumpo was home to 4,000 monks; today there are about 500. Some highlights about Tashilumpo:

• The Monastery is well known for having one of the largest Buddha statues in the world, sitting at 36 meters tall.
• There are a ton of temples and such around the monastery, each housing different deities. There are statues of compassionate Buddha, long life Buddha, wisdom Buddha, etc, etc. Our guide attempted to explain why there are so many deities in a zero-theistic religion: Tibetan Buddhists believe in a divine power that is mostly internal (our guide estimated 80-90% of divinity resides within us) but they use the different Buddha statues as a way to “charge up” when they need help in an area. He used the example of himself: “If I was wanting a long life, I would go to Long Life Buddha and say “Oh Buddha, help me see the path to longer life.” But Buddha would say, “Stop smoking you dummy.” So you see, the different Buddhas can help us in weak times, but we have to take the steps ourselves too.” Heehee. I liked our guide.
• Our timing was wonderful and we were outside the assembly hall as the monks were all called to assembly. At first, I thought I would feel like we were intruding but the monks were just as interested in us as we were in them. The monks weren’t allowed anywhere near the women (as our guide said, “monk see a pretty lady and maybe he forgets about wisdom seeking”) but especially the younger monks seemed to get a kick out of putting on a show for us. It felt a lot like a boarding school, just instead of intellectual growth, the focus is spiritual growth.

Little monk trying to hit the hat off the heads of other monks using his cape. 

Day Four: Xigatse to Gyantse

We drove a short two hours to Gyantse, at 11,850 feet. Gyantse has another monastery, the Pelkhor Chode, which I don’t really remember, and the Kumbum Chorten fortress, which was closed renovations.

Pelkhor Chode 

Kumbum Chorten

Day Five: Gyantse to Lhasa

This was a big driving day, eight hours to Lhasa at 10,950 feet. We went over two passes, the higher of which was 15,030 flanked by a 21,670 foot mountain and a 18,708 foot mountain. We also drove around this really gorgeous turquoise lake and the Kharola glacier.

One of the passes

18,703 feet taller than me.

Day Six and Seven: Lhasa

Lhasa quite an emotionally conflicting place.  When you first drive in, the Chinese elements are completely overwhelming. I felt like I wasn’t in Tibet anymore; most of the city seems like just electronics stores, restaurants and autoparts shops. The Chinsese influence continues to be quite disturbing as you walk around the more historical parts of Lhasa (the middle, around the Barkhor Square area near Jokhang—China has just build all around old Lhasa): the military presence is more overwhelming in Lhasa than when I was in Russia. On every corner, there are men in full camo with machine guns watching the crowd. Then you look up, and see the cameras on every corner. And look up further and see the snipers positioned on the rooftops. It’s terrifying.

But, on the other hand, Lhasa is also an aw-inspiring place to visit, because in spite of 60 years of Chinese oppression, Tibetan culture is still palpable. All over the city, both the modern and historic parts, you see Tibetans circumambulating and spinning their prayer wheels and even prostrating the last few kilometers to Jokhang. The resilience of the Tibetan sprit is undeniable.

Camera...

Snipers.

You can’t take pictures inside any temples/monasteries in Tibet, so the pictures are kind of lack-luster, but we spent two days sight seeing in Lhasa. We saw Potala Palace, the Jokhang temple, the Drepung Monastery and the Sera Monastery. The other hard thing is that the Chinese government very closely regulates the information our guide could share with us, so I always felt like I was missing half the story. Not that I can ever remember the history facts anyways. I linked to Wikipedia in case anyone is more of a history buff than me.

Potala Palace:

Potala is what I am sure you all picture when you think of Lhasa. Potala was built by the 5^th Dalai Lama in 1645, and actually contains two different palaces: the red palace, an area for spiritual study for the leaders of Tibet, and the white palace, for secular uses, both living spaces for spiritual leaders and government activities. Much of the guts of the Palace were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, but the building itself was saved by international intervention. I actually didn’t really like visiting Potala, because it was like bumper car tourism: each day, the Palace is visited by around 5,000 people and was jam-packed the day we visited. Though December is the off-season for tourism, it is the peak season for religious pilgrims (since they don’t farm in the winter). Each pilgrim stops in front of each deity to make an offer, either small sums of cash or butter to add to the butter lamps. Our guide was allowed to weave in and out of people and cut lines with us, which just made me more uncomfortable with the situation.

Potala Palace

Yak Butter Lamp

Jokhang Temple: 
Jokhang is the most sacred Buddhist temple in Tibet and most Tibetans make a pilgrimage there regularly from the farthest reaches of the region. As a result, the place was packed and the lines were huge. Again, I really did not like cutting the lines with the tour group. Jokhang was built by a Tibetan king around 640 to honor his two wives—one from China and one from Nepal, both of whom brought Buddha statues as part of the dowries. The statues were housed at the Temple until the Cultural Revolution. My favorite part of this visit was getting to see the prostrators from the roof of the Temple. I haven’t been able to learn exactly what they are doing, the guide just responds, “praying,” but it is amazing to watch.

Prostrating outside Jokhang

Drepung Monastery: 
Drepung used to be the biggest monastery in the world and home to 7,700 monks, but now only holds a few hundred (only 40% of the monastery buildings remain). There have been a lot of major protests here and the monastery is often closed. This was the last place we visited—I think I was monastery-ied out and spent most of the time looking at the pretty painted rocks and people watching.

Sera Monastery: 
Sera was my favorite thing we visited in Lhasa. A good chunk of the monastery was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, and it now houses only about 500 monks compared to the 6,000 that used to live there. Sera had some great sand mandalas on display and an old-style printing press for Buddhist sutras. But the best part was visiting the debating courtyard. For two hours every day, the monks gather and quiz each other on the topics they are studying, from Buddhist philosophy to science, history or geography. I have no clue how the practice developed, but it is quite the dramatic process. A monk or two sits on the ground (the student) and another monk stands above him (the teacher, but apparently they take turns). The teacher then yells loudly at the student, and when it is the student’s turn to respond, the teacher smacks his hands together violently and stomps the ground. If the student responds correctly, it continues; if not, there is another set of complicated and violent looking gestures that follow. I think this is how I will TA my classes in grad school.

From Lhasa, I took a 45-hour train ride to Beijing, so I guess technically I was in Tibet for 8 days, but then I would have missed the Brad Pitt reference.

Simple Joys of a Bell Pepper

November 29, 2011

I had a wonderful moment today: I was sitting on my bed in a hotel room in Tibet eating a raw bell pepper for lunch and smiling to myself. It may not sound all that exciting, but it was exactly what I wanted to be doing that instant. Later, I was reflecting on the day and I realized that many of my favorite days in Nepal were those filled with simple joys and the immense pleasure of feeling completely content with my life.

This is the skill I am most proud to have cultivated over the past 18 months: the ability to identify and acquire exactly what would me happy. Interestingly, I got the hang of the acquire bit before the identify bit. I guess self-efficacy comes more naturally to me than self-awareness. And learning the self-awareness came hand in hand with ceasing to apologize for wanting what I want and accepting that “because it makes me happy” is a good reason. Sometimes it may be little short-term things, like lime green bed sheets or a fresh bell pepper for lunch, and sometimes it may be big long-term things, like leaving my perfectly wonderful job for a year of unknown adventures, but I think that the success of my life will be judged by this standard:

To what extent does the life I am leading at this moment match the life that would make me the happiest.

At the end of my life, I hope to look back and see more moments on the positive end of that Likert scale than the negative end. That, for me, is to have succeeded. 

Nepal Greatest Hits

November 24, 2011

As a recap of my time in Nepal, here is the trip I would recommend if anyone ever wants a two-week non-trekking trip to Nepal. If you want to go trekking, wait ‘til I’m done with my PhD and I’ll come with you, heehee.

Start: Janakpur

If you’re coming up through India, there is a boarder crossing at Jaleswar. If you fly into Kathmandu, connect straight to Janakpur. Starting a trip in Kathmandu is a hard way to go. One night is probably enough in Janakpur, but the Janaki Mandir and all the ponds are worth checking out.

Chitwan National Park

From Janakpur, take a bus to Hetuda then transfer to a bus to Sauraha. In my opinion, if you can, it is worth splurging on a all-inclusive resort inside Chitwan because Sauraha is not particularly exciting. I did a 2 night-3 day package and had a great time. Make sure to stay somewhere with elephant bath time, the best thing in the world.

Lumbini

You can get a tourist bus from Chitwan to Lumbini, or take a public bus to Butwal and then switch to a Lumbini bound bus. Lubmini only requires one night, but is definitely worth checking out. Also, it is rapidly being developed so will get better with time I think. Make sure to go all the way to the World Peace Pagoda, which remains one of my favorite spots in Nepal.

Tansen

From Lumbini, it’s a straight shot north to Tansen. Two nights is a good amount in Tansen, and there is a helpful tourist office there (the only one in Nepal) to provide activity suggestions.

Pokhara

From Tansen, you can get a bus in the morning to Pokhara. Three nights in Pokhara would be good, and it’s a good place to stay and relax if you wanted to stay longer. Be sure to go paragliding and boat over to the World Peace Pagoda.

Manakamana/Gorkha

On the way back from Pokhara, which you can do by public or tourist bus, stop at either Manakamana or Gorkha. Gorkha's got the best staircase in Nepal and Manakamana has a cable car with goat racks. Either way, one night is sufficient.

Finish: Kathmandu Valley

From there, you can take a tourist bus or a public bus to Kathmandu. I think three days in Kathmandu is plenty: Day One, go to Swayambhunath, Pashupatinath and Boudha. You can do this with public transportation very easily. Day Two, go to Bhaktapur. Day Three, go to Patan. Skip Thamel and Kathmandu Durbar Square. In fact, if you want to really enjoy your time in Kathmandu, don’t even stay in Kathmandu—book a hotel in Patan. It’s an easy 20-minute bus ride from Kathmandu.

Go forth and travel! And with that, I am on my way home, via Tibet and Beijing. See you December 11!

Pokhara

November 20, 2011

After Bandipur, my dad and I did not really see the sun or the mountains again. I learned what a bummer it is when the tourist draw of a city is views. The beautiful reflection of Annapurna on the Phewa Tal? Yeah, never saw that. But I was thankful that we did not fly further into the mountains as I had considered, because lots of tourists got stuck in Jomson and Lukla due to bad weather and they ran out of beds in the guesthouses. We spent five nights total in Pokhara, with a jaunt over to Tansen in the middle. Pokhara’s a great little town; it’s definitely touristy, but in kind of a nice way. For me, the highlights were (in order):

1. Quality time with my father. I think the period immediately after college is the equivalent of middle school for the parent-child relationship. It’s full of lots of growing pains, new interactions, and experiences that can be at times unbearably awkward, but when you get through it, the person (or in this case, relationship) that comes out the other side makes it all seem worth it. The ah-ha moment in the transition with my dad was fall 2010 when my friend Melissa asked me a really basic question about him that I no idea what the answer was. This was the moment I realized I had to stop expecting my dad and I to magically make the transition to parent-adult child relations and put as much effort and thought into it as I do all my other relationships. My dad’s two-week trip to Nepal, and especially our last three days in Pokhara, was a great culmination of a year of us trying to move into a new kind of father-daughter relationship. Perhaps Pokhara was the equivalent of eighth grade graduation. 

Ok, I cheated, this isn't Pokhara, but it's cute!

2. Paragliding! Oh yes, I, Elena Harman, formerly terrified of heights, went paragliding. I decided in the spirit of embracing life outside my comfort zone and pursuing historically neglected pursuits, it was time to leave the heights phobia behind. Of course, in the back of my mind, the memory of the last time I tried to will away my fear of heights was crystal clear: I ended up stuck at the top of a tree in Costa Rica in the rain.

3. Gurkha Museum. Some of the museums in Nepal look like elementary science fairs. It makes me really sad sometimes, because they are really trying, but somehow it just don’t work, and then the entrance fee is only 50 rupees (about 60 cents) and I always want them to charge me some more. Case in point, the Natural History Museum in Kathmandu:

Educational or creepy?

Anyways, the Gurkha Museum in Pokhara is a diamond in the rough. It’s well curated, with a ton of great old photographs, and is quite educational. Since 1815, there have been a number of Nepali regiments within the British Army (and still are). Interestingly, Nepal was never a British colony, but during the border battles between the Nepal Army and the British East Indian Company, both armies developed a mutual respect and decided they would rather fight together. Basically Nepalis are now hired guns in the British army, and the salaries and pensions are generous, so every year thousands of young men compete for the positions. It’s an interesting contrast to scientific research. In scientific research, it is considered unethical to offer compensation at a level that would be difficult for potential participants to turn down, because doing so would take advantage of vulnerable populations. Yet we have militaries (still, in the 21^st century) that rely on non-citizen regiments, compensated at persuasive levels. To me, this seems like a gross double standard, especially since the level of potential harm of war is much higher than most scientific research. Interesting.

Gurkha Musuem

Tansen

November 24, 2011

While waiting (unsuccessfully) for the weather in Pokhara to clear, my dad and I headed to Tansen for a few days. Tansen is known these days for two things: First, it is famous for producing dhaka, woven fabrics they use to make topis (traditional cloth hats for the men), jackets and shawls. The pattern you see most frequently on topis is a kind of wild crisscrossing of oranges, pinks and whites that makes my head spin a bit—this pattern is called palpi, named after Palpa, the district that Tansen is the administrative seat of. Second, Tansen was unfortunately the location of one of the bloodiest battles of the recent Maoist insurgency. In 2006, 40,000 Maoists attacked the Tansen Durbar in the middle of the city, which in modern times serves as an administrative building. The Durbar is still being rebuilt, and around Tansen you can see bullet holes in the bricks still.

Tansen was a great little detour. I particularly liked three things about it. First, I liked wandering around the bazaar without anyone pressuring you to buy things. Even when you stop at a stall, the shopkeepers help you politely but never get tense if you seem like you might not purchase anything. Every time I go to a small town in Nepal, I want to buy something, both because I would rather give my friends and families authentic gifts and because I would rather pump my money directly into the villages than the tourist district in Kathmandu. In most towns, there is not enough industry to actually make this happen, so Tansen was a nice change. I was able to buy some great Christmas gifts at three different shops around Tansen.

Shopping!

Second, the bus ride to Tansen was fabulous. Or at least, the scenery was fabulous. In Nepal, I’ve started getting motion sick (one too many 10-hour bus rides I guess) so any road with twisty bumpy turns (every road) is kind of a nightmare for me, but it was good for my dad to get to experience real Nepal travel. The road twisted through the hilly, wooded areas of Nepal’s Western Hills. AND my dad took all the touristy pictures I’ve been wanted to have but was too embarrassed to take myself. Win.

Bus interior

Most villages are not accessible by road. Nepalis take a bus to a random trailhead, then walk straight up the valley walls and 1-2 days to a village. This is a typical path Nepalis jump off the bus for.

Standard roadside shop

Third, the hills around Tansen were beautiful for hiking. I got my hiking fix for the fall, since I’ve been unable to hike solo due to safety concerns. It was kind of weird because there were a lot of trees, but barely any foliage on the ground. My dad suggested that maybe the trees block the light.

All in all a great final village to visit. Stay tuned for Elena’s Nepal Greatest Hits: a trip planner for all of you who are now dying to come to Nepal. J

Mindful Communication

November 21, 2011

The Background Story:

In the last six months at my job, I got really interested in how we communicate. My interest was sparked by observing how staff reacted to different people in leadership roles. And my initial goal was to figure out if there are easily adoptable things that make some leaders able to gain respect and cooperation more easily than others. The short answer (in my opinion) is yes and no. I do think that some people are naturally more suited for leadership roles; but a lot of leadership appears to be teachable. Specifically, it occurred to me that two people could convey the same message with two different speeches and get completely different reactions. I started listening incredibly carefully to the types of words that different folks used, and noting tactics that were particularly effective.

I love this game of listening to how people communicate; it makes every interaction a learning experience. Over the summer, I started trying to implement some tactics that I liked, some of which worked for me and others didn’t fit. The general skill I am trying to develop is speaking more gently with others. The specific skill has initially been focused around how to express a different viewpoint in a way that doesn’t immediately garner a prickly response. I was blessed with a plethora of amazing role models in my time at the Foundation, and some of my favorite “best practices” include:

1. In August I went to a course on evaluation theory taught by Mel Mark, one of the country’s experts on the topic. Yet regularly throughout the day, he would preface his comments with, “Now, from what I understand…” and then he would ask the class if that was how we understood the theory. The genuine modesty this conveyed—that he was positioning himself not as the expert, but rather a student of the field just like the rest of us—made me so much more attentive to his comments. It was incredible. That’s the kind of professor I want to be—deeply knowledgeable but unwaveringly interested in learning from others, regardless of their background and education.
2. My first supervisor at the Foundation was a powerful speaker because she is the most even keeled person I’ve ever met. By maintaining such a calm speaking style, you don’t get distracted by the way someone is speaking and can really pay attention to the content of what they are saying. Though this is not something I am likely to ever achieve (I just get so gosh darn excited sometimes!), I greatly admire the skill.
3. My second supervisor at the Foundation is a pro at explaining really complicated methodology in a simple way. In our department, we did a lot of teaching, and at times I felt like a broken record, saying the same things over and over again. I was always worried that at some point I’d hit my limit of times folks were willing to listen to my guided tour of statistical significance and bar charts. Yet she skillfully avoided this trap by prefacing things with, “I’m sure you know this, but…” kind of making every point a reminder of things we learned previously rather than her always teaching something new. Just fabulous.
4. Two of our program officers had a marvelous way of expressing an opposing viewpoint by starting with a positive about what the other person had just said. So even when they completely disagreed with someone, they would start a point by saying something like, “Wow, I never thought about it like that, thanks! Here’s what I had been thinking…” This one’s hard for me to pull off because I tend to have such strong opinions that the intro feels disingenuous to me. Maybe I need to model these ladies’ open mindsets at a more fundamental level before I have success here.
5. Another coworker was my idol for how she adapted her speaking style for each of the people she assists. She has a knack for understanding what makes people tick and can quickly shift between many different approaches. This to me is like a platinum level skill, which I don’t think I’ve seen someone so good at—it requires both an expert knowledge of effective communication and the prowess to switch between tactics smoothly.

The Recent Experiment:

Despite all my effort in this area, I noticed last week that it is the people I have known the longest that I am slowest to change around. I guess I fall back into old patterns when around people who knew me before the patterns were broken. It seems completely unfair that the people who put up with my flaws for the longest are the last to benefit from my self-improvement. Most recently, this manifested with my tendency to immediately shut my dad down the moment he suggests something contrary to my opinion. So I decided to go cold turkey on the word “no.” For one week, I tried my very best to avoid using the word “no” at all. My thinking was that there is always another way to convey your point, but leading with the word “no” is unnecessarily harsh.

Giving up “no” was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be and I think I did pretty well this week. There were, however, three occasions that I did not succeed at avoiding “no:”

1. There are a lot of phrases that have the word “no” in them! “No problem” and “no idea” are two that I use a lot. At the end of the week, I decided that these phrases were acceptable, because they are not harsh like “no,” so the general policy of speaking more delicately can still be achieved.
2. In one of the Dalai Lama’s famous speeches, he suggests analyzing your behavior at the end of each day, noting how many negative activities and how many positive activities happened. “Because you give this subject special attention, as time goes by your behavior will improve.” What I’ve found is that proper behavior becomes particularly challenging on days when your mind is not in top shape. I am not a nice person when I’m grumpy. I was in a foul mood one day this week and the “no”s came back out in full force. Ugh. In retrospect, I wonder if by focusing more on a concrete task like not saying “no,” my bad mood might dissipate because it would not have mental energy to feed on. An experiment for another day.
3. Direct yes/no questions, particularly when there is a language barrier, sometimes require a firm “no.” When my Nepalese cab driver asked “Do you want to stop to take a picture?,” he did not understand my response of, “That’s ok.”

This was a fun little experiment for me. I hope I’m able to keep avoiding jumping to the “no” reaction. Speaking more gently may be a lifelong challenge for me; I’m aiming for gradual improvement in my speaking style over many many years. But I like this strategy of taking a speaking tactic to an extreme for one week and I may try to think of some others for the months I’m back in the States. A week of speaking really slowly immediately comes to mind. Yikes, that sounds hard. Maybe I can start with just a day…

The Mountains Around Bandipur

November 18, 2011

My mountain luck continues to be atrocious. Maybe growing up in Colorado I somehow used it all up. I’ve been in Nepal eleven weeks as of yesterday, and I can count the number of days I have seen the Himalayas on one hand. The unexpected benefit of this is that I have grown an immense love of the hill regions of Nepal, because without the mountains looming above, the rolling hills are gorgeous. Green and tiered and the kind of pastoral I thought only happened in paintings. I keep thinking it’s a shame they get passed over for the 8,000 meter peaks above them…

But then I see the 8,000 meter peaks and I understand. The mountains here don’t look real. During the day, the blues on the peaks and the blues in the sky match so perfectly that it looks like a photoshoot background. And at sunset, the yellows, pinks and oranges reflected on the snow are so intense that it looks fake. I’ve gotten in the habit of watching the sunset every night in Kathmandu (the only plus about pollution is the fabulous sunset colors) and my two days in Bandipur set the bar for beautiful sunsets in my life.

My dad and I stopped by Bandipur on the way to Pokhara about a week ago. The town itself is tiny and I’m kind of Newari villaged out (temple, brick roads, wood carved windows, I get it), but the hills were fun to hike around in and we had two days of amazing mountain views from our hotel room, so I will let the best thing about Bandipur speak for itself:

Flying Solo

November 4, 2011

The three questions I get asked by everyone I meet in Nepal are:

1. Where are you from?
2. Where are your friends? / Why are you alone?
3. Aren’t you married?

I am definitely acting contrary to social norms here—Nepalese women only started riding local buses alone within the last two years, so the idea that I am in a foreign country alone is absurd to most Nepalis, especially older generations. When I say that I am traveling by myself and I am not married, folks look genuinely saddened. At first it kind of bugged me, because I think I interpreted the sadness as a statement about my capacity to travel alone. (My first reaction was along the lines of, “I can do it myself!”) But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I don’t think that’s at all how it is intended.

In both American and Nepali culture, being single (whether for a short trip or a lifetime) carries a certain stigma. Yet in America, I get the sense that being single is frowned upon because of its implications about that individual, for example, that there is something wrong with them, because otherwise they would have a significant other. In Nepal, the stigma is quite different—here, a woman alone signifies the failure of the community to care for its own. The sad reaction I get when I respond that I am in Nepal on my own is not a reaction to anything about me, but rather a feeling that my community has some how let me down.

One good example of how this plays out in Nepali culture happened to me this week on my way back to Kathmandu from Ilam. I had to change buses in Birtamod, with a three-hour wait before catching the night bus home. About 45 minutes into the layover, a woman comes over with one-year old son and her aging father. She points to her father and says, “He wants to know why you are traveling alone.” I tried to explain that I was just in Janakpur and Ilam exploring and now I was heading back to the family I lived with in Kathmandu. She relayed this to her father and he shook his head and asked to see my bus ticket. I thought that was the end of it, but fast forward 2 hours and when it was within a half hour of when my bus was supposed to arrive, this elderly man got up from his spot on the bench and waddled the 30ish feet over to each arriving bus to see if it was mine, every time returning and telling me, “tapaaiko bus china” (not your bus). The family’s bus came before mine so the man was unable to successfully get me on my bus, but when he left, another older man stepped up to the plate. This second man walked me all the way inside my bus, put my bag in the overhead and showed me my seat before returning to wait for his bus. Then the couple sitting in front of me figured out I was traveling alone, and they decided that I would “travel with them” for the duration of the 16-hour bus ride. Every stop, they would shuffle me off the bus, make sure I found the bathroom (often hard to locate in Nepalese rest stops), got a snack, and got back safely on the bus before the driver started the engine.

That I could have managed all of these things myself is completely besides the point in Nepal. The point here is that doing these things myself should never cross my mind, because my community should obviously do them for me. The social contract is clear, and everyone’s role is set in stone. Interestingly, the Nepali word for alone is the exact same as the word for lonely, “eklai,” which literally translates to “oneself.” The word independent is not in any of my Nepali-English dictionaries. I think this pretty telling about the culture here. To travel alone (or choose not to marry) is unheard of. Every thing a female does, she does accompanied by a male relative. At first I thought this would be pretty limiting; I was interpreting it as women can only do things that a man also wants to do. But that’s not how it works. Women do what they want and men are expected to accompany them. When I realized this, I was still a bit confused by how it works in practice, I mean, I only have four male relatives (dad, brother, uncle, cousin), if one of them had to do everything I wanted to do (and everything the other five women in my family wanted to do), they would never get to do their own thing. But you have to remember that this cultural phenomenon goes hand in hand with Nepal’s broader definition of family. They call almost everyone brother/sister or aunt/uncle. Thus, there is a larger pool of male companions, and the community as a whole comes together to take care of the women. In exchange, the women take care of all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, money management and other household tasks. Rather than gender equality, it strikes me that Nepal has support equality; the type of support you provide and receive just takes very different forms depending on your role in the family/community.

In America, I think that we have out grown traditional gender-based roles but we have not yet figured out what our new roles are. And maybe never again will there be a culture-wide understanding of individuals’ roles. I think there is something to be said for having more flexibility in societal roles; a major barrier to women’s empowerment here is that women cannot enter the workforce in a real way because the home responsibilities do not just disappear. But there is also a level of comfort in knowing what support you can expect from different people in your community. And I love this concept of support equality. Maybe true, literal gender equality is not the end goal, but rather we should strive for equal opportunities in society and equal support in relationships.

This social contracts topic is a big one that I’d like to keep pondering. And when I return home and continue to build my life, I’d like to be more deliberate about the people with staring roles in my life. I’d like to spend some time figuring out what types of support I need and where I expect to get that support. On the flip side, I want to make sure that I am in a solid position to provide support for the people that I love so that I do not end up expecting things I cannot reciprocate. I have no intention of giving up my American-bred fiercely independent self, I’d just like to gain a better understanding of how I fit into the larger community around me and learn to accept support more graciously. 

Janakpur

November 4, 2011

This week I finally made it down to Janakpur (the trip that got rained out in September). The city itself suffers from the usual Nepal tourism dilemma of being a full day bus ride from Kathmandu but only having about 2 hours worth of things to see. Janakpur is most famous among southern Nepalis and northern Indians (Janakpur was formerly the capital of the Mithila territory, half of which is now in India) for it’s role in the relationship between Rama (the seventh incarnation of Vishnu) and his wife Sita (an incarnation of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth). The Janaki Mandir is a huge temple built to honor Sita and then next door the Ram Sita Bibaha Mandir memorializes the spot where Rama and Sita were married. I’ve pretty much had my fill of the red brick and woodcarvings of the pagoda temples throughout the rest of Nepal and the bright colors were a much appreciated change of pace! 

Janaki Mandir

Janaki Mandir Inner Sanctum 

Ram Sita Bibaha Mandir

Two things made the 10-hour bus ride worthwhile for me. First, the trip was timed with Chhath, a major Hindu festival most intensely celebrated in Janakpur. Tens of thousands of Indian and Terai-Nepalis flood to the city twice a year for a multi-day festival to worship the sun goddess (and also something about good luck in marriage—Hindu festivals are never just for one purpose, as far as I can tell). On November 1, each family prepared offerings along the side of one of the many ponds in Janakpur. Then, when the sun goes down, the women fast and sit vigil with the offerings until sunrise, at which point the offerings are considered blessed. The families take the food home and make a big feast and everyone who eats the blessed food is supposed to receive the benefits of the offering until the next Chhath (the equivalent of receiving tika during most festivals). My favorite part was seeing all the women in colorful saris (day glow is still socially acceptable here!) and sheer volume of people and offerings involved in this festival.

One family's offerings

Pond surrounded by offerings

After dark

Second, my dad arrives on Sunday, so my time solo in Nepal is coming to a close, and in many ways, this Janakpur trip served as a final exam for my first solo travel adventure, specifically regarding embracing life outside my comfort zone. Tests included:

• Relinquishing all control over my life to male “relatives”: Prakash (the doctor who lives next door to me) and Radhakrishna (my host father) decided that Chhath would be the best time for me to go to Janakpur. Radhakrishna decided that it would be better for me to stay in his friend’s house (Mr. Balram) than in a hotel and that 2 nights would be the best amount of time to stay. When I arrived, Mr. Balram announced that his son (Sushant) would show me around Janakpur. Sushant and two of his friends thus became my tour guides for the trip and decided what I would see and when. I doubt I’ll be giving up control of my life again anytime soon, though it definitely was a “true Nepal” experience. I think there were pluses and minuses in this particular case. I read my guidebooks afterwards, and I think there are probably some things I missed by not exploring solo (though, if the locals didn’t take me there, how important/cool could the site be?). But it was nice to have some “male relatives” to shoo away the train of small child beggars and pesky teenage boys I inevitably acquire every time I leave Kathmandu, and it was nice not to have to keep track of where I was going.
• Shifting to Nepal time: When told that something would happen “now,” I automatically understood that in Nepal, that really meant “maybe in the next few hours” and it didn’t irritate me!
• Adventuresome eating: I ate on daal bhaat with my hands while sitting cross legged on the floor and I did not make too much of a mess. Though I think I failed this test because I made the rookie mistake of admitting I was hungry before dinner. Never ever say you are hungry in Nepal, because then when you say you are full, they respond, “but you are hungry, is it not tasty?”
• Not mentally jumping to the worst case scenario, part one: The “what happens if I get separated from Sushant in a sea of Hindu pilgrims” thought did not even phase me during Chhath.
• Not mentally jumping to the worst case scenario, part two: When the bus ticket counter was closed unexpectedly for the festival, and I wasn’t able to get out when planned, it was me who shrugged and said, “ke garne?” first. (“What to do?” the Nepali catch-all when something doesn’t go as anticipated, similar to our “whatcha gonna do?”)

Tihar

October 28, 2011

Colorful Tihar decorations!

Another big Hindu festival, Tihar, is wrapping up across Nepal today. I stayed in Kathmandu this week to celebrate with my host family and though (again) it was difficult to get an explanation of the significance of all the rituals, I got to experience a ton over the five-day festival.

Day 1:

The first day is pretty mellow, food is set out for crows, which are thought to be the messengers of the god of death. Funnily, I was in Gorkha this day and a crow stole a potato from my dinner plate, so in a way I took part in this ritual.

Day 2:

Dogs are honored on day two--families give dogs tika, flower garlands and special foods because dogs are the gatekeepers for the god of death. My family does not have a dog, so I kind of missed this one, but I liked seeing the neighbor’s dog with red tika all over his head and a marigold necklace.

Day 3: (aka Diwali in India, same basic celebrations here)

Day three is when things really start to ramp up, with two main festivities. First, cows are given food (not that they are ever denied food) and flower garlands, since they are the soul’s guide to the underworld and the symbol of wealth (and the embodiment of nature, but that doesn’t play in here). Second, Deepawali (Festival of Lights) is when all the houses and shops in Nepal are lit up with candles, gas lights and string lights to guide the goddess of wealth so she can bless everyone with prosperity. For a city with irregular electricity, Kathmandu does holiday lights really well. The strategy seemed to be as many lights as possible. I asked what happens if there is load shedding during Deepawali, and the response was basically, “the electric company wouldn’t dare.” 

Lights around New Road

In addition, each home draws a kind of landing spot mandala/flower for the goddess of wealth and then a path to lead her into the house and up to the offering left for her.

At night (and actually continuing through the end of the festival), groups of kids come door-to-door singing and playing instruments and receive treats and small sums of money in return (a practice called “Diusire”). I kept asking people what they were singing (like, what the words meant) and kept being told “they are playing diusire,” so I have no idea what the purpose of this activity is. Manish said it was their equivalent of trick-or-treating on Halloween, which he knew about through Scoopy Doo episodes. Haha. I also got to experience a special treat: “modern version diusire,” which consisted of a full rock band coming to the door, complete with drum set and amps!

On top of the ruckus of many many traveling music groups, this is also the main night for fireworks, which Nepalis light off of their rooftops. Oh, and fireworks here do not have much in the way of fuses, you basically light the firework directly.

Day 4:

Day four is Mha Puja, a concept with doesn’t translate well to English but is literally “self-worship.” Most Nepalis stay home and have a quite day of reflection to prepare for the upcoming year and conduct private rituals. (The television was even off at my house, which is very rare.) The exception to this is the Newari caste, which celebrates the New Year this day. I went around town to check out the celebrations, and like the drum festival I saw in Patan, it was a complete madhouse. There were a ton of jeeps loaded up with Newari teenagers with drums and cymbals and microphones, each playing their own tune and driving their own route. A couple of times during the day there would be a celebration jam—all traffic came to a stop as two parties passed each other on the crowded Kathmandu roads.

Celebration jam!

Day 5:

The final day, Bhaai Tika, is the most important for most Nepalis, like Dashimi during Dasain. The main event is sisters blessing their brothers and giving them flower garlands, treats and tika in hopes of warding off death indefinitely. In modern Nepal, brothers now reciprocate and give their sisters a tika, though without the full ceremony. There were a lot of steps in this process, and I have no idea what they all meant, but here are some pictures!

Sisters preparing the offerings

The blessing setup

Radhakrishna and Sita receive tika from Radhakrishna's sister

Manish receives tika from a cousin (since his sister is in India)

Tika for me from Sita

One final really cool thing about Bhaai Tika: The prettiest spot in Kathmandu is arguably Rani Pokhari (Queen’s Pond), a gorgeous white temple surrounded by a green pond (a pretty color if you don’t think about why it is that color) that a Malla king built for his wife to consol her after their son was trampled to death by an elephant. Sadly, in modern times Rani Pokhari became a popular suicide, so the gates are locked 364 days of the year. But the temple historically had an important role in Bhaai Tika: it is the spot where only children can leave offerings and receive tikas to ward off death, so the gates to Rani Pokhari are open one day a year for the benefit of Nepal’s only children. I felt very lucky to get to walk around inside. 

Now I have a few days off from festival festivities, but on Monday I am heading down to Janakpur to celebrate Chhath (only celebrated in India and the Eastern Terai) with my host family’s best friend’s family!