Hi all!
Here is my entry from the night we arrived, December 30. This one gives a quick overview of the political context of our visit, and the kind hospitality of our first host.
I have arrived here at a fascinating moment in Nepali history. Less than one week ago, Parliament agreed to completely abolish the monarchy in four short months, relegating the once-powerful King Gyanendra to ordinary citizen status and transforming the last Hindu kingdom on earth into a constitutional republic. From what I gather, this same king was until recently an autocratic head of state who wielded control over the Royal Army and used it to repress social movements in the name of combating terrorism. Last year as part of the peace process he was stripped of most of his powers. This was in part a concession to the powerful Maoist insurgency, but also a political response by Parliament to the overwhelming rejection of King Gyanendra by the general public, who had mistrusted him ever since the prior King, King Birendra, was killed by the Crown Prince Dipendra in the Palace Massacre murder-suicide, which vaulted him to power in 2001. Now, Gyanendra will be dethroned for good and his family's divinely granted powers abandoned forever.
This news has renewed hope for an end to the 10-year civil war as the Maoists have tentatively pledged to rejoin the government. My impression is that it also means a newfound feeling of openness, as people are less scared of the soon-to-be ex-Royal Army and perhaps the soon-to-be ex-armed insurgency. I had been warned by others who visited recently not to ask any direct questions about the Maoists and not to expect any direct answers. So I was planning to keep my mouth shut.
Yet at least one community development professional we met just after we arrived expressed his sympathies for the armed movement, quite loudly and without prompting, in the public space of our hotel lobby. He said that thanks to the Maoists, rural and indigenous people have become much more active and vocal in demanding change, and this has sped up progress for human rights in ways never before seen in this country. The Maoists, in his view, helped the people see the King for the wealthy autocrat that he is, bringing him down from his divine, oppressive, pedestal. It is thanks to them, he told us, that minority groups such as the Indian-identified Madhesis, ethnic Tibetans and so-called 'low-caste' groups have also begun agitating for their rights, having been denied citizenship for centuries.
I have a hunch that some of the other people we are scheduled to meet feel much differently about the insurgency, including the bombings and summary executions that I understand have been very much part and parcel of the Maoist strategy. I wonder if they will feel as safe to share their views in this still-shaky moment of ceasefire.
After that informal chat in the lobby, we were off to our first encounter with Nepal -- or at least one prominent citizen of Nepal. We had been invited to dinner at the home of Rita Thapa, a renowned women's rights activist. Most recently, she is the founder of Voice of the Citizen, a group dedicated to conflict transformation and advocating for the rights of internal refugees and widows of the violent conflict.
As darkness fell, we embarked on a taxi ride through the narrow roads jam-packed with bicycle rickshaws painted in riot of colors, VW Combis crammed full of women in silk saris, buses, cars, diesel trucks decorated in many hues and belching noxious fumes, motorbikes (a few driven by young cosmopolitan women wearing tight jeans and high heels) and brave pedestrians seemingly narrowly escaping death. We veered onto a main highway past the Royal Palace -- where the 'tiger sits trapped in his gilded cage,' according to our friend in the lobby, and into a massive traffic jam. The cab driver explained that this was due to Losar, the Buddhist New Year also know as Lhochaar in Nepal and celebrated by one ethnic group, the Gurung people. As of last week Losar has become one of five new national holidays as part of a nominal effort by the government to recognize the validity of the minority and indigenous cultures that make up something like 1/3 of the population.
As we left the main road the city was enveloped in darkness. Arriving at our destination, we removed our shoes. Rita ushered us into her beautiful two-story home by candlelight as she explained that her area was currently undergoing 'load-sharing.' The government has implemented a policy in which each sector of the city is plunged into blackout from 5 to 8 pm for a few days each month. This is related to a nation-wide energy shortage that has lasted over a year, due to causes unknown. According to the Nepali Times, some people suspect powerful businessmen of deliberately withholding fuel to drive up prices.
Over an appetizer of carrot-cinnamon soup and greens freshly picked from her garden, Rita shared how as a young widow she left a career at the UN convinced that it was time for women in Nepal of all castes and economic means to find ways to support their own initiatives. Her efforts led to the founding of TEWA, the Nepali Women's Fund, which raises funds locally by bringing together groups of middle-aged homemakers to raise funds through walk-a-thons, raffles and other grassroots means. With these funds it supports women's empowerment initiatives all over the country.
Rita eventually turned TEWA over to a new generation of leaders. Her plan had been to study abroad, but then the Palace Massacre occurred and the conflict escalated. Hundreds of people were dying daily and widows and orphans were crowding into Kathmandu with nowhere to go.
She interrupted her narrative to check the rice on the stove. I admired the wood-carvings and paintings of the Buddha decorating the spacious living room and warmed my hands by the small space heater which came on as the lights returned. We padded in our stockings to the dining table as she and her colleague Vickram told us about their latest effort, Voice of the Citizen. For six years they have worked with displaced youth and widows to provide psychological and social support while holding peace vigils and advocating for an end to the violent conflict.
Rita projects the passion of a committed activist and the kindness and warmth of someone who feels comfortable interacting with people of all walks of life. I later was told that she is the daughter of a former Prime Minister of Nepal, one of many who have founded NGOs (non-governmental development or human rights organizations) in the last 15 years. Though she possesses a poise that fits her social station, I detected no snobbery. She spoke quietly about the emotional strain of the war and the toll it on her personally as it has the rest of the country. With a faraway look in her eye, she told us that she is grateful for the solace of Buddhism and especially the meditative practice of cooking.
Perhaps after two days of airplane peanuts my taste buds were feeling neglected, but the food was indeed exquisite. Small bowls were laid in front of us with a Nepali feast similar to - but much better than - the North Indian food I've eaten in Berkeley. A light chicken curry, creamy cheese curds in spinach (equivalent to Indian palak paneer), rice with fragrant black lentil dahl, and a pickled local fruit that tasted like tamarind on steroids. Later we were treated to Rita's homemade yogurt spiced with cardamom, pepper and chunks of fresh strawberries. Having had the real McCoy, I may not be able to enjoy those Trader Joe's microwaveable packets of 'authentic South Asian cuisine' ever again.
Feeling restored, we gave Rita our sincere thanks and took a cab to our hotel to rest in preparations for the busy day ahead.
Here is my entry from the night we arrived, December 30. This one gives a quick overview of the political context of our visit, and the kind hospitality of our first host.
I have arrived here at a fascinating moment in Nepali history. Less than one week ago, Parliament agreed to completely abolish the monarchy in four short months, relegating the once-powerful King Gyanendra to ordinary citizen status and transforming the last Hindu kingdom on earth into a constitutional republic. From what I gather, this same king was until recently an autocratic head of state who wielded control over the Royal Army and used it to repress social movements in the name of combating terrorism. Last year as part of the peace process he was stripped of most of his powers. This was in part a concession to the powerful Maoist insurgency, but also a political response by Parliament to the overwhelming rejection of King Gyanendra by the general public, who had mistrusted him ever since the prior King, King Birendra, was killed by the Crown Prince Dipendra in the Palace Massacre murder-suicide, which vaulted him to power in 2001. Now, Gyanendra will be dethroned for good and his family's divinely granted powers abandoned forever.
This news has renewed hope for an end to the 10-year civil war as the Maoists have tentatively pledged to rejoin the government. My impression is that it also means a newfound feeling of openness, as people are less scared of the soon-to-be ex-Royal Army and perhaps the soon-to-be ex-armed insurgency. I had been warned by others who visited recently not to ask any direct questions about the Maoists and not to expect any direct answers. So I was planning to keep my mouth shut.
Yet at least one community development professional we met just after we arrived expressed his sympathies for the armed movement, quite loudly and without prompting, in the public space of our hotel lobby. He said that thanks to the Maoists, rural and indigenous people have become much more active and vocal in demanding change, and this has sped up progress for human rights in ways never before seen in this country. The Maoists, in his view, helped the people see the King for the wealthy autocrat that he is, bringing him down from his divine, oppressive, pedestal. It is thanks to them, he told us, that minority groups such as the Indian-identified Madhesis, ethnic Tibetans and so-called 'low-caste' groups have also begun agitating for their rights, having been denied citizenship for centuries.
I have a hunch that some of the other people we are scheduled to meet feel much differently about the insurgency, including the bombings and summary executions that I understand have been very much part and parcel of the Maoist strategy. I wonder if they will feel as safe to share their views in this still-shaky moment of ceasefire.
After that informal chat in the lobby, we were off to our first encounter with Nepal -- or at least one prominent citizen of Nepal. We had been invited to dinner at the home of Rita Thapa, a renowned women's rights activist. Most recently, she is the founder of Voice of the Citizen, a group dedicated to conflict transformation and advocating for the rights of internal refugees and widows of the violent conflict.
As darkness fell, we embarked on a taxi ride through the narrow roads jam-packed with bicycle rickshaws painted in riot of colors, VW Combis crammed full of women in silk saris, buses, cars, diesel trucks decorated in many hues and belching noxious fumes, motorbikes (a few driven by young cosmopolitan women wearing tight jeans and high heels) and brave pedestrians seemingly narrowly escaping death. We veered onto a main highway past the Royal Palace -- where the 'tiger sits trapped in his gilded cage,' according to our friend in the lobby, and into a massive traffic jam. The cab driver explained that this was due to Losar, the Buddhist New Year also know as Lhochaar in Nepal and celebrated by one ethnic group, the Gurung people. As of last week Losar has become one of five new national holidays as part of a nominal effort by the government to recognize the validity of the minority and indigenous cultures that make up something like 1/3 of the population.
As we left the main road the city was enveloped in darkness. Arriving at our destination, we removed our shoes. Rita ushered us into her beautiful two-story home by candlelight as she explained that her area was currently undergoing 'load-sharing.' The government has implemented a policy in which each sector of the city is plunged into blackout from 5 to 8 pm for a few days each month. This is related to a nation-wide energy shortage that has lasted over a year, due to causes unknown. According to the Nepali Times, some people suspect powerful businessmen of deliberately withholding fuel to drive up prices.
Over an appetizer of carrot-cinnamon soup and greens freshly picked from her garden, Rita shared how as a young widow she left a career at the UN convinced that it was time for women in Nepal of all castes and economic means to find ways to support their own initiatives. Her efforts led to the founding of TEWA, the Nepali Women's Fund, which raises funds locally by bringing together groups of middle-aged homemakers to raise funds through walk-a-thons, raffles and other grassroots means. With these funds it supports women's empowerment initiatives all over the country.
Rita eventually turned TEWA over to a new generation of leaders. Her plan had been to study abroad, but then the Palace Massacre occurred and the conflict escalated. Hundreds of people were dying daily and widows and orphans were crowding into Kathmandu with nowhere to go.
She interrupted her narrative to check the rice on the stove. I admired the wood-carvings and paintings of the Buddha decorating the spacious living room and warmed my hands by the small space heater which came on as the lights returned. We padded in our stockings to the dining table as she and her colleague Vickram told us about their latest effort, Voice of the Citizen. For six years they have worked with displaced youth and widows to provide psychological and social support while holding peace vigils and advocating for an end to the violent conflict.
Rita projects the passion of a committed activist and the kindness and warmth of someone who feels comfortable interacting with people of all walks of life. I later was told that she is the daughter of a former Prime Minister of Nepal, one of many who have founded NGOs (non-governmental development or human rights organizations) in the last 15 years. Though she possesses a poise that fits her social station, I detected no snobbery. She spoke quietly about the emotional strain of the war and the toll it on her personally as it has the rest of the country. With a faraway look in her eye, she told us that she is grateful for the solace of Buddhism and especially the meditative practice of cooking.
Perhaps after two days of airplane peanuts my taste buds were feeling neglected, but the food was indeed exquisite. Small bowls were laid in front of us with a Nepali feast similar to - but much better than - the North Indian food I've eaten in Berkeley. A light chicken curry, creamy cheese curds in spinach (equivalent to Indian palak paneer), rice with fragrant black lentil dahl, and a pickled local fruit that tasted like tamarind on steroids. Later we were treated to Rita's homemade yogurt spiced with cardamom, pepper and chunks of fresh strawberries. Having had the real McCoy, I may not be able to enjoy those Trader Joe's microwaveable packets of 'authentic South Asian cuisine' ever again.
Feeling restored, we gave Rita our sincere thanks and took a cab to our hotel to rest in preparations for the busy day ahead.
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