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Hullo everyone! Sorry for the slightly longer than usual delay in contact. I recently moved outside the city to a nearby village in the Kathmandu Valley. This shift involved the loss of daily internet access from my bedroom, which I suppose was a blessing and a curse. For now, I have access again for a few days, but the future is uncertain, so I appreciate the patience, in advance ;)

So much has happened since the last post that I hardly know where to start, but I’ll give it a shot. Last Friday, after a normal day of language in the morning and teacher training with our co-teachers in the afternoon, we left the city and to meet and stay with our new home-stay families. This departure was with mixed emotions, as after three short weeks with my first family I love them. I could not ask for a kinder family, and I was, and am still, quite attached to everyone.  We spent the last night eating pizza and momos (Nepali dumplings) exchanging gifts ,and taking pictures. But as I’m not going far, I hope to visit often. After arriving in my new town, I quickly realized that I will be living in another astonishingly loving home. The family who is taking me in is close friends with the Headmaster of my new school. Our home is on a hill, and from my bedroom window I have a breathtaking view of the valley and the mountains, behind which I caught a glimpse of the Himalayas the other morning at sunrise. I’ll try to get y’all a picture after another month or so, once the monsoon season is over and the clouds clear, revealing the hidden himaals (Nepali name for the Himalayas). From the balcony outside my room, I can see my school, a three minute walk down our hill and across the field where soccer is constantly being played.  It is a truly lovely place.

Schools are closed Saturdays, but Sunday I went for my first day of work. I was introduced to the students at the morning assembly, where everyone lines up outside by grade, sings the national anthem, and is counted. After this I accompanied my co-teacher to all of her classes. She, and now I, teach 2^nd,4th, 7^th,8^th,  3^rd, and 5^th grade, in that order. The first day I received handful upon handful of the most beautiful flowers from my new students, who brought them from home in honor of my arrival. Needless to say, it was very touching, and the love and e,xcitement on all sides has not lessened. My first day I introduced myself to my classes and had them all write their names and interests on half flashcards, then mostly sat back and watched. The next day I helped more, finding ways here and there to contribute to every lesson. I’m again thankful for the Nepali training I’ve had, as well as my endlessly kind and patient co-teacher, as all the English classes are generally taught with 50-75% Nepali. But I think we’re all finding our groove together. Today, after encountering a “chant” called the “Houkie Coukie” in the book for our lesson, I realized I had an undercover skill set acquired automatically  from a childhood spent in America. I seized the opportunity to but this skill to use and taught my third graders the Hokie Pokie. They may not have understood all the words, but they found this activity hilarious. As I left the room for my next class, they were still singing and dancing and laughing, and it made my day. 

The kids are hilarious. I walked in a nursery level class yesterday to help sub with my co-teacher, and a 4 year old pointed to me and said “umumumum kati thulo Miss,” which basically means “oh my goodness Miss (as all female teachers are called) is HUGE.” He proceeded to say that they should call me “Thulo (big/tall) Miss” and my 5’2” co-teacher Rajani “Saano (small /short) Miss.” My height is something I tend to forget, but no-one else ever does, and we joke about it all the time. That and the fact that I’m going to get so fat eating Nepali food. As being “moti,” roughly translated as “pleasantly plump,” is historically a good thing in Nepal, I often find myself sitting at the dinner table, happily agreeing that, yes, no doubt eating all this rice, I will get fat, thank you. And I don’t bother to disagree with the statement that, yes, my mother in America will be so happy at how fat I’ve gotten.  I just laugh, and then when I’m feeling particularly American try to do crunches in my room to fight the inevitable physiological effects of the shift to this carbohydrate heavy diet.

La aru ke bhanne? What else to say? I’m sure the anecdotes will keep coming in the weeks and months to come. I’ll give you a few things from the list of things I love which I keep in my journal, half pictures, half words.

Fresh, ripe, Mangos

“Good morning /afternoon/evening Miss,” now heard everywhere I go in my new town

The different character of every bus- for example, one always playing Hindi music, one proudly adorned with a winnie the pooh sticker, another with a sign above the mirror which says “maya namara,” literally “don’t kill the love”..

Sharing shoes, resulting in me wearing pink flip flops half the size of my feet, and my little brother flopping around the kitchen in my blue ones, twice the size of his

Etc. etc.

As always, love and miss everyone at home. Seriously, shoot me an email or facebook comment. It’s a real pleasure to have a taste of home and hear from everyone. All the very best!! xoxo