Jai Jai Ram Sita Ram

Well, I’ve been neglectful in updating this blog. Let’s not bother with a long preamble. Here's what I have been up to over the last few months:

At the end of February, I returned to my site after the Bardia National Park trip with a few mosquito bites. One of those bites, on my right elbow, developed into a gnarly abscess (later determined to be a staph infection). I sent photos to the Peace Corps doctors, who told me to come to Kathmandu immediately, and for good reason. The damn abscess burst as I got off the plane, and it was a wellspring of pus. I dripped all over the backseat of the taxi (luckily covered in plastic), the security gate at the Peace Corps office (the guards still made me sign in—security first. One guy quipped, “American girl, Nepali infection” when he saw what I was dealing with), and finally the orthopedics unit at Grande International Hospital (the nurse gasped in shock when she saw the amount of pus. That put me at ease).

I spent 11 days in Kathmandu recovering. I maintain that Kathmandu is the worst place in the world to convalesce. You come to the city with one health problem and leave with two more. This medical trip, however, coincided with Nepal’s federal elections, so luckily for me, the city was emptied: an estimated 950,000 Nepalis left the valley to vote in their home districts. Even so, some interesting characters were still hanging out in Thamel, and the very large bandage on my elbow was like a “Hey! Talk to me!” sign to these people. What irritated me the most, though, was tourists asking if I'd hurt myself while trekking. I’ll forgive them for thinking that but no! I was not a trekker dicking around in the mountains; I'm a volunteer who acquired this infection in the mid-hills, aided by questionable hygiene practices and an indifference toward my own well-being. Mine is a different kind of stupidity from that of the everyday tourist. I'd like the distinction made clear! 

Got some sightseeing done during my medical hold.
 Here, I drew strength from Padmasambhava.

Despite all that, I'm the picture of health, so I recovered in record time and was sent back home. I was welcomed back to Arghakhanchi in grand style. Let me set the scene: the last leg of a 5 hour journey in a crowded van. I'm sitting in the back row by a window. A man gets on and squeezes in next to me. Five minutes later, he leans over to vomit out the window but doesn't quite make it. The splashback gets all over my kneecaps. It's bright orange, the color of undigested pakora. Once he vomits, it sets off three more passengers. The vomitters go ragdoll mode and I, now covered in vomit, am squashed against the wall on even the gentlest curve. Luckily, I didn't get infection #2 from this whole saga.

When I got home, I found that the windy season had started at my site. As the Santa Ana winds bring madness to Southern California, the Central Asian winds bring fear and illness to Arghakhanchi. Last year, the winds ripped off the veranda and sent the tin roof into the potato field during my first week at site. This year the winds sent me to bed with a splitting headache (one of those every once in a while makes you appreciate life all the more) and killed the calf (poetically, that is. Better than saying bloat got him.). Well, shit, I signed up for this life. Isn't Peace Corps service great fun?

With those unfortunate moments out of the way, let's get on to better things! 

On April 2nd, I hit one year of service at my site (current status: over 15 months total in Nepal). It's been a million years and no time at all. I've thought about doing a write-up of my reflections so far, but like I said earlier, I've been neglecting this blog, and that sounds very daunting. I'm paraphrasing a Philip Roth line I came across the other day that matched my own philosophy towards this reflection stuff: why turn yourself inside out when all you'll be is inside out and lonely instead of inside in and lonely? Anyway, what I'm trying to express is that you'll get the introspective stuff when I finish service. For now, let me tell you about my most recent trip instead. 

Goma Didi, Ganga Didi, Alyssa, and I at our Mid-Service Conference! 
One year in, woo-hoo! 

To ring in one year, my travel buddy Alyssa and I took a two-day trip to Janakpur, southeast of Kathmandu and close to the Indian border. The Terai, with its heat, colors, cultural clashes, stray cows, and chaos, is more alluring to me than the Himalayas. I jump at every chance to get down there. 

A little bit about Janakpur: the city first popped up on my radar while I was reading and researching the Ramayana, one of the great Sanskrit epics. The Ramayana is a meditation on love, honor, and duty, illustrating how to be a good son, husband, wife, king, warrior, and citizen through its principal characters. The protagonist is Ram, an incarnation of Vishnu, who descended to the mortal realm to slay the demon Ravana in a battle of legendary proportions. Ram's consort is Sita, the daughter of King Janak, said to have been "born" in Janakpur. I won't delve into Ram and Sita's exile or Sita's subsequent kidnapping by Ravana, but know that the love and devotion between Ram and Sita is central to the narrative. 

Despite the mythology, archeological finds suggest that Janakpur was never much of a kingdom, but rather a collection of tiny villages until the 1940-50s, when the end of the British Raj and malaria eradication in the plains led to a population boom in the Terai. Today, Janakpur is the capital of Madhesh Province, the center of Mithilia culture, and a Hindu pilgrimage destination.

 

Janaki Mandir

We arrived in Janakpur on the earliest flight from Kathmandu, and even though it was only around 9 am, the heat was already unbearable (thank God we are in the windy season. The breeze offered some respite). The five layers of sweat coating my body communicated a certain desperation, and the tuk tuk drivers, like any adept salesmen, took full advantage. I had to resign myself to getting fleeced for the short ride from the airport to our hotel. 

But what a ride it was! Tuk tuks are great for getting your bearings quickly in a city: you're not going very fast, and you're practically out in the open, able to soak it all in. Women in colorful saris balanced pots and bags on their heads (I know it's a matter of habit and comfort, but seeing someone balance a backpack on their head will never not crack me up. Ladies, use the straps! That's what they're there for!). The landscape was dotted with pond after pond, where children swam and women washed their cookware and clothes. Orange Hanuman flags (Hindu) flew next to green flags with Urdu/Arabic script (Muslim). The streets were lined with trash, maybe the most I've seen in Nepal (For what it's worth, every Nepali I talked to told me Janakpur is a dirty city). The streets and roadways were stained with red paan (betel nut) spit. Colorful Mithila murals told the story of Ram and Sita. 

After dropping off our bags at the hotel, Alyssa and I set out for Janaki Temple. To get anywhere in the city, you have to cross in front of this place. Not that I'm complaining! It's beautiful and so different from the typical pagoda style I've seen across Nepal. Janaki Mandir dates to 1910, and was built with funds from an Indian queen in Madhya Pradesh. It is designed in the grand Mughal style, with white marble, arched entrance ways, latticed windows, turrets, and lots of ornamentation. I imagine that at one time, this three-story temple was visible at all points in the city, but now it has been crowded in by tall concrete buildings.

Janaki is another name for Sita, who is said to have been "born" at this spot. According to legend, King Janak was ploughing a field in preparation for a religious ceremony, when he happened upon baby Sita in the furrow. Sita, daughter of the Earth goddess Bhumi, was adopted by King Janak and raised as a full member of his household. In the sanctum sanctorum of Janaki Temple, you'll find idols of Sita, Ram, Janak, and other members of Sita's family. 

Resting outside the sanctum sanctorum

Look at that Mughal influence!

Adjacent to Janaki Temple is another site believed to be one of two possible places where Ram and Sita were married. Alyssa and I stopped for a quick look around when a sadhu beckoned us over. We sat down in front of him, and he quickly began tying threads around our wrists and made me eat prasad from Alyssa's hand. So, I guess we are married now. 

I went to give the sadhu 20 rupees, but he shook his head and said 100. I didn't have any other bills on me, so I kept trying to hand him the 20, but he wouldn't take it. A sadhu who doesn't take any and all your money? That's a first. 

The other possible location of Ram and Sita's wedding lies a little bit outside the city. A small Mughal-style building commemorates the spot. A pond next to the temple is said to be where Ram and his brother Lakshmana washed their feet before the wedding, and where Ram cleaned his hands after applying sindoor to Sita. It was a quiet little spot and, from the looks of it, a popular place for Janakpur teens to take photos of themselves and their friend groups. 

Vivah Mandap

I love trains, so of course I had to stop in at the Janakpur Railway Station. The platform was crowded but not particularly chaotic, which was a sharp departure from my expectations--and yours too, I'm sure, dear reader. Some people threw their trash down onto the tracks, and a goat played chicken with the oncoming train, but the boarding process was no more hectic than getting on the LIRR at Penn Station. The train itself looked as comfortable as any Deutsche Bahn train I've ever ridden. 

In the evening, once the temperature had dropped, Alyssa and I watched the arati at Ganga Sagar. This pond is said to contain holy water from the Ganges River. Every night at 7 pm, three priests offer prayers from a pavilion overlooking the pond. They recite mantras, sing, blow a conch, and spin around idols and burning lamps. I wonder how long the priests need to practice the choreography before they're ready for primetime. 

We also visited the Janakpur Women's Development Center (JWDC) outside the city, in the village of Kuwa. I've long been enamoured with Mithila art, which originates in this region and is characterized by arresting geometry, disinctive stylized eyes, and the use of natural dyes and pigments. Historically, women painted Hindu scenes on the mud walls of their houses for important occasions like weddings and holidays such as Tihar and Holi. Today, that practice is fading, but organizations like the JWDC help preserve it while also economically empowering local women. 

Nowadays, women paint religious scenes, landscapes, public service announcements, and self-portraits on canvas and cloth. These pieces are sold both within Nepal and internationally, with a cut going to the artists and the rest funding the development center and its trainings in financial literacy and business development. However, a woman we spoke to said that sales are down, and the center is increasingly relying on small fees from school and college tours and workshops to stay afloat. 

This same woman (I'm so upset I didn't catch her name) very kindly took Alyssa and me around the center, where we watched the painters at work and spoke with them. It was mesmerizing to see how they first draw the scene freehand and then start painting inward from the border, mixing all their own pigments. I bought two beautiful pieces: one depicting Ram and Sita's marriage, and the other of King Janakpur discovering Sita in the furrow.  

I was surprised to stumble across a few American development projects in Janakpur. The JWDC was founded by an American woman, Claire Burkert, in 1988. The women there made sure to show me her picture (paintings dedicated to former USAID chiefs and Ambassador Dean Thompson and his wife, Jane, also hung on the walls next to Ms. Burkert's portrait). Later, Alyssa and I came across a school next to Ganga Sagar that was built by Peace Corps Volunteer Bill Sansone. I also know that the Peace Corps was involved with establishing fisheries in Janakpur in the 1970s . It's always interesting to find evidence of Peace Corps projects from decades ago. I'm part of a long chain of do-gooders!

All aboard! 

Poster advertising the arati at Ganga Sagar

Mud relief painting in the village of Kuwa, near the JWDC

Peace Corps projects in the wild

And that's it. As I mentioned, it was a quick two-day trip, just enough time to stop in and check off the major sites. Janakpur is a culturally and politically rich place, and I've only just scratched the surface. In preparation for this trip, I read--and recommend--the Ramayana (retold by Krishna Dharma) and Plains of Discontent: A Political History of Nepal's Tarai (1743-2019) by Maximillian Morch. 

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for the next post! 

Here I Yam! quitting Peace Corps to pursue modeling.
Photo credit: Claire