Monday, March 12, 2012

This Is My City

I'm so thankful I had experienced some insane cities in Eastern Africa before coming here. Kathmandu is like Arusha, Dar es Salaam, Kabale and Kampala rolled into one and I absolutely adore it. As crazy as it is, there is always a peaceful neighborhood in which you can seek refuge before going out to brave the chaos again. Our program house, the Nepal Sangeet Vidhyalaya (Nepal Music School) and my house are three of those places.

The Dragons Program House is our base. We arrive here every morning for breakfast and then split into groups for language class. It's located approximately seven minutes from Chalkrapath, one of the craziest intersections I've encountered (except not really, because there are actually traffic police) and if you were only at the Dragons house all the time you would have no idea what lay beyond. 

Although I no longer have an excuse to go to the NSV, it was another one of those places. I could catch a bus from Chalkrapath, get off a little after the Gaushala stop, and then somehow manage to cross the street without being killed. Each turn I took brought me down smaller and smaller alleys bringing me further and further away from the crazy. The first time I went to the school I immediately felt at home. There were maybe five or six drum students practicing on the second floor which calmed me instantly and many of the walls displayed artwork and photographs. It had such a stereotypically artsy vibe and I loved it. I felt so lucky to be surrounded by calming places. 

My house with the Sharma family is located right off of Ring Road, one of the major roads in Kathmandu, in a little neighborhood called Sukedhara. It really is just off the road, but it somehow manages to capture a peaceful air. My family keeps emphasizing how small these quarters are (they're renting the bottom floor of a house--two bedrooms, kitchen, storage/ shrine room, "dining room", living room/my bedroom and one bathroom) as compared to their real house. I truly cannot emphasize how happy I am that we're not in their other house. If I were, I would probably have my own room and bathroom to myself, but that's not what this is about. That's not why I'm here. I'm here to be part of a family, which I truly feel like I am. Whenever I'm having a rough day I can picture Mamu's face and I immediately feel better. The last fifteen steps from our gate I'm overwhelmed with happiness. I know I'm home. It's such a comforting feeling. 

I really feel like this city was made for me. I love the people, the public transportation, asking random people in Asan market for random items, walking where I can, finding hidden nooks and crannies, wearing my kurta and surwaal, seeing Baba read Punku's Barbie books to test his English and watching the faces when I tell people my name is Aasha Sharma.

You know, once you get comfortable with the general feel of things it doesn't even seem that crazy. Some of my best thinking is done on the bus or crammed into a minibus with 30 other people. I love it. I love the things that wouldn't fly in the States but totally work and are completely however oddly functional here. I love hearing the boys working the buses calling out their destinations and knowing which ones I want and don't want. I love banging on the roof of the tuk tuks when you want to get off. I love sitting on the bus and watching the sun catch dust particles floating around like angels of positivity spreading the light (and sneezes) wherever they go. 


(Sorry for the overflow of posts. I didn't know when I would have access again and wanted to at least get you semi up-to-date now)

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