Ms. Frizzle and Me

At least in teaching, I know my compass is aligned in the right direction. Even when I’m exhausted after a day of grade 8s and 9s, I feel rewarded by the practice.  I don’t mind spending my evenings thinking about tomorrow’s lessons. I love coming up with new analogies and discovering new ways to explain a concept. I love igniting curiosity. Mostly, I love seeing kids get that “AHA” moment when the lightbulb goes into high power. And yes, I even love teenagers. In their own awkwardness and fight to be independent, they are still just looking for someone to treat them with respect and give them a chance to learn.

In my latest teaching gig, I feel like I finally get to teach what I know and love. I get to be that enthusiastic, slightly eccentric biology teacher. I get to be my own version of Ms. Frizzle, and damn, it feels good inside and out. Best of all, it comes across to the kids.

“Find something you’re passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.” -Julia Child

What do you say when you meet a living goddess?

It’s not every Saturday you meet a Kumari. Strolling out of our neighbourhood into the old city-state of Patan, two new teachers and I had a chance encounter of meeting this living goddess. We were exploring our new town and stumbled upon a building, only realizing after that this shabby temple was in fact the home of the Patan Kumari.

The Kumari is a chosen young girl who meets a host of specific physical characteristics (including the shape of her eyelashes and the sound of her voice) and comes from a prescribed ethnic background and caste. Kumaris are believed to be descendants of the wife of Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction and rebirth. As such, they must show no fear of blood, no fear of sacrificing animals, and no fear of darkness.

In order to be chosen as a Kumari (there are 3 in Kathmandu, one for each of the old cities–K’du, Patan, and Bhaktapur), a priest will select possible candidates ages 4-6 who meet 32 physical requirements. Then, they are exposed to 108 sacrificial animal killings (although now the number is down to a mere 8) and must show no sign of fear. (Nightmares!) Additionally, the girl must never have shed blood of any kind–no scrapes, mosquito bites, blemishes, etc. Once chosen, the Kumari holds her reign as the living goddess until she menstruates for the first time or has any accidental loss of blood.

Now here’s even more of the rub: The Kumari never touches the ground. The Kumari does not interact with children her own age or make eye contact. She is decked out with gobs of red sandalwood paint, kohl eye liner, and red saris. She lives with her mother in the Kumari Bahal, but makes only a few appearances outside a year. She receives offerings in exchange for a blessing, perhaps a coy way for her family to make money.

Kumari Devi of Patan

Once her reign as Kumari is over, she is allowed to return to a “normal” life. However, with such little social interaction growing up, it’s hard to believe that her life would ever be normal. She is allowed to marry, but there is a superstition that marrying a past Kumari will result in her husband’s untimely death. So that doesn’t help her case…

Walking into her old barn-like palace, we were invited to make a wish and receive a blessing from this 11-year old reincarnation of a female deity. As I kneeled in front of the Kumari, I couldn’t help but feel guilty at my personal freedom. All I could think of was being deprived of any semblance of a childhood. No climbing trees, laughing with friends, making mistakes, getting an education, and frankly, just growing up. So what do you say when you meet a living goddess? Awestruck was not my reason for being speechless.

Running in K’du

After 31 years of getting to know myself, one thing I know for sure: Exercise keeps me sane. Shortly after I arrived, after my 36 hour flight and awkward sleep patterns, I started to crave a good sweat.  It’s easy to sweat around Kathmandu- just be. These hot, humid summer days leave you sticky and dusty, resulting in multiple showers and refreshing lime sodas. But, I needed a run.

Last Sunday, I decided to do a little exploration around my neighbourhood for some possible running routes. Equipped with my Garmin watch and Google maps app, I set out towards greener spaces and less traffic. There were times that I thought I might be doing a “stupid white girl” move by winding through back streets, but I never got any odd stares from Nepalis and I was reassured when I saw other runners along my route.  Lo and behold, I found a great 5k out-and-back route that wove around min-temples, across a foot bridge, and ended with a set of stairs akin to North Van’s Grouse Grind.

I’ve managed to get out 4 times this week, and hope to keep up the routine of an early morning run before work. The traffic is quieter, and there are other Nepali’s out and about biking and running. Maybe one of these days, I’ll wave over the Nepali track stars and ask them to do some speed work. 🙂

Here are a few pics from my route:

A temple worth exploring

English countryside?

Inside the temple gates

Dhobighat, my hood is known for washing

Got caught in a monsoon rain

Turn around point

Stairs that make you huff and puff

Footbridge to cross the river (shared with motorcycles, bikes, and pedestrians)

First Impressions

Just a heads up: If you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, you may not need to.

[Cue enthusiasm.] The past few days have been absolutely fantastic! I have felt so incredibly welcomed and know that I working and getting to know a great group of people. Each person has a story of their international exploits and how they came to teach in Kathmandu. In this faraway land, everyone is connected to someone. Between throwing out common names or places, it’s 1 degree of separation here!

Living in Kathmandu feels surprisingly ‘normal’. After staying in a hotel for the first night, I was toted off to my apartment. The streets are busy, but not an assault like Delhi. Traffic jams are a common occurrence as all the cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and buses play chicken with each other until one folds and barely grazes by. Honking is more of a greeting and part of the music of Kathmandu.

So yes, my apartment: It’s lovely! With its purple, pink, and periwinkle paint, I feel like I’m living on the set of a children’s show. I have a spare bedroom for anyone who is committed enough to make the journey across the world! I’m getting to know my neighborhood with the help of my fellow teacher and Aussie buddy who lives above me. She is a wealth of information, and I feel like I am touring with the Lonely Planet embodied! (Well, better than the LP! Inside scoop around every corner.)

I’m learning so much and have all of my senses peaked. As I said, living in K’du feels ‘uniquely normal’. Here are a few examples. Normal: Bhatbhateni, which is a Nepali superstore that has everything from washing machines to yoghurt. (And quickly showed me that I brought waaaaay too much stuff from Canada!) Unique: The random occurrence of temples and sacred spaces amongst motorbikes and cell phone stands. Normal: Pedestrian walkways filled with murals and students. Unique: Stepping over complacent street dogs and driving around cows asleep in the street.

I am buzzing with words, photos, and experiences to post about. Certainly, more to discover and share!