A day in life, job

It’s been quite a day today–at the hospital entire day. As my grandmother was having a surgery, I was at the hospital. As much as I dislike visiting hospitals, today I had to. And in future, as a part of my job, I have to be at hospitals and talking to doctors and patients all the time.

Grim sights, unhappy people, tearful eyes, waiting outside the operation theater with hope and nervousness that reflects in their eyes and the joy when their loved ones are brought out is something that makes you happy. And then again there is the side that I do not feel like writing, talking.

After spending some time in the hospital, I then walked toward for a story at a cancer center. I talked to the doctors, patients and got personal with my life. People were in bed–some unaware of the fact that had cancer–with a hope that they would return home someday. I talked to them and they answered with a smile on their face.

That moment was heart-touching. You realize how much lovely life is. You appreciate the things, people around you and know that one day, someday we’ll be parting from each other. So why fight, right? Why can’t we be loving and caring every time with everyone?

And at the hospital where my grandmother was, all my family members were there. All of her sons, daughters, sons and daughter-in-laws were there, a special family bonding was there, a sense of togetherness, love and support for the family was there. Though everyone was busy, they were all there with each other, for each other. That’s what I’m talking about.

National Anthem on my mind

Since I heard the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra play the (new) Nepali national anthem Thursday, it’s stuck on my mind. It’s weird how most of them from my generation doesn’t even know the words of the national anthem. It’s new but most of us haven’t made an effort to memorize it.

With monarchy being replaced by a republic, the country has gone through many changes–the names attached with the former kings have been changed and the country got a new national anthem that doesn’t praise the monarchs and their superiority.

As children, in schools, we were made to sing the national anthem every morning. And for that reason, the old national anthem is something that will always be with us. And now, when we don’t have to sing the national anthem every day, it seems difficult to memorize the new one. (Maybe people should play the national anthem before every movie in theaters like in India…that was a surprise for me). But it feels good to be a part of the change, the generation that has two national anthems!

And if the old national anthem is something stuck to us, the new one should too because it’s different, unique. And I blogged about this for SAJA Forum in 2008.

During the Beijing Olympics 2008, Nepal’s national anthem was among the 10 best from 205 others. The Guardian‘s Alex Marshall picked out the Top 10.

…there are only a dozen anthems that are musically worth listening to – and that most of the countries these belong to do not have a hope of winning a gold in Beijing.

Marshall writes there are anthems which are truly unique because they “make the effort to be different.”

…there are a handful of anthems that do stand out – either because they use non-western instruments, scales and tunes, or because they take a western anthem and then toy with it, making it solemn or funny, and entirely their own. Most of the “Stans” of central Asia have anthems that sound like they could not have come from anywhere apart from former Soviet states. They trudge along in minor keys, filled with imposing strings and booming drums, as if written to accompany armies clambering into battle.

Then there are Nepal’s, Senegal’s and Nigeria’s, all of which make use of local instruments.

In Solu, people don’t dream big but wish for smaller signs of development

Lhakpa Chottee Sherpa knows the difference between work and play.

The 10-year-old Solukhumbu native goes to school, plays in her free time but doesn’t hold back helping her family in the morning. She makes a three-hour walk to and from her house to deliver milk to Phaplu in the district headquarter in Salleri. For surrounding villages, Phaplu is the sign of progess: an airport, market place, schools and a hospital.

“Chottee,” she spelled her name as she walked back from delivering her daily six liter of milk that she carries to the market. Dressed in a pink jacket, scarf, jeans and slippers, her attire looked warm enough for the winter weather when the temperatures go frigid. But people in minimal clothing on the way showed no signs of resilience or complain; they walked, worked and smiled.

As Chottee climbs up and down the hills, she talks about school, the 30-minute walk she has to make it to class everyday, the few English words and sentences she knows, the games she plays with her friends and about her family. She said she delivers milk “to help mother.”

“Some men killed my father,” she says. During the Maoist conflict, more than 13,000 people have died–civilians, police, militants and the military.

But after the Peace Accord in 2006, violence has subdued. People do not fear of death or blasts in their backyards. New projects are being built in Phaplu (a vocational training center), women from different parts of rural Nepal study to become primary health care professionals at the Solukhumbu Technical School. And businessmen say they’re doing better though competition is on the rise.

That’s just a part of progress though, which is only a 30-minute flight distance from Kathmandu in north-eastern Nepal.

An eight-hour walk to other Village Development Committees away from Phaplu and Salleri, development if fragile. Basic infrastructures like electricity and roads doesn’t even exist. But people seem to care about those less.

After the decade-long People’s War, they seem to be rejoicing peace. Children play freely on the dusty, muddy trails, women sit outside their houses and talk, wait for passers-by to stop and have tea at their self-established home kitchens turned restaurants and porters, as old as 60 and young as 10, carry loads of supplies and essentials for their shops or others’ businesses.

People look content. They smile, ask questions to tourists, passers-by and locals. Though they have to walk a day’s distance to reach to hospitals, airport or any other facilities, they don’t complain. They only wish–wish that one day there would be roads that would replace the trails they walk, transportation would reach their villages and their journey would be easier and convenient. They dream of it, hope that their dream would come true.

And the 10-year-old also wishes the same. Though she has never seen the capital, Kathmandu, she thinks its beautiful and has a lot of vehicles on the street. She doesn’t wish for better clothes or luxuries like a Barbie or some savvy product that a city girl would want but wishes that some day her village would have basic infrastructures.

“I wish someday vehicles would come,” she shares her wish. “I wish there would be electricity.”

From the Hindustan Times

This was published in the Hindustan Times, Mumbai, on Jan. 19, 2010. Here’s the e-paper edition.

In an iPhone, there’s an application for everything. And from my experiences so far, I can say that in India, there’s a person for everything, literally. I look around, talk to people and to my bemusement, I see people serving each other, for each others’ benefits, in every possible way. There are maids who do all the household chores, people who wash your clothes and even iron them. There are people who deliver lunch and groceries to your doorsteps even when a restaurant or grocery shop is a step outside your door. The list of personal services one can get in India continues endlessly.

Skewed practices

After living in the West for a considerable time, this practice in India and in my native Nepal, to a certain extent, amazes me. People who supposedly are high up in the social hierarchy just treat others as mere objects who in their view merely exist to make their lives better. They might argue that they’re paying for these services and helping these people earn a living. Yes, true. But the ones who look down from their social ladder tend to forget courtesy. In most of the cases, words like “Thank You” don’t exist in their vocabulary. Someone walks into a grocery store and demands the bags are carried to his car. Fine, he doesn’t want to carry the bags and there’s someone to do it. But at least, he should have thanked the person for his service. While I was in the West, sometimes, these words of courtesy like, “Thank You” and “Sorry” seemed overused. People used them for just about every instance, even if they meant it or not. But now I think that it’s better overused than not at all.

Cultural issues

Even when you get off the taxi or a rickshaw, I hardly find people thanking the poor drivers. Well, I do and most of the time I get no reaction, but the occasional smiles I do get in return, at least give some purpose to my effort. I’m not saying anything against the civility of the people here; maybe it’s just a practice that takes time to change and as the culture changes, it will slowly change. Nevertheless, the culture of using other people for personal, household service seems to be a set tradition, and it’s getting its grip on the expat community too. Call it business or laziness; people who did everything on their own in the West, when here, suddenly seem to use other people for their personal chores as well. And it really took my breath away, when someone posted an advertisement for a “servant” on an expat group. Servant? C’mon. I wonder about the mentality of the person who posted it. But the truth is, that in India and many other countries, servants still exist. The rich still rule over the poor, which is sad.

Shocking behaviour

After leaving India, when I go back to Nepal, I’m sure I’ll come across similar types of behaviour. Yet I can’t believe in cities like Mumbai and Kathmandu, where such a mass of educated people reside, that the servant-culture still exists. Yes, it’s a form of employment, but aren’t prostitution and drug trafficking? Just a little more evil, right? I’m not trying to make any point here. I’m just amazed that we all have become so self-centred and empowered that at times it prevents us from seeing the world from the other side of the equation. All I want to say is treat other people with respect and give them dignity. They might be a deliveryman, driver or a servant, but they’re people too.

Good Morning, Kathmandu

Kathmandu, in it’s morning glory is something else, blanketed in the wintry fog.

The sights and sounds of early morning Kathmandu: The bells from the temple, which usually are like an alarm; the melody and the hymn of people walking toward the numerous temples lined in the city;  people with their fresh produces lining up the streets;  crowd of college students in their neatly ironed uniforms and then a pool of people adhering to their morning walk regime, cozy in their warm clothes and hats, with their radios and even ipods. And there’s no traffic, no pollution. It just seems fresh.

And this morning, I was in central Kathmandu for a story. Few sights from my morning–it was early but a great way to start my day.

Is Nepal ready for an earthquake that could devastate its capital?

It’s been 76 years that a massive earthquake crumbled Kathmandu this day, Jan. 16, 1934 (Magh 2, 1990). The memories of the earthquake  still live in the memories of many who survived. And as I hear the stories from my grandparents now and then, I can’t think of the devastation that Kathmandu would have, if an earthquake of such intensity–8.4 on the Richter Scale–strikes the capital.

Being an earthquake prone zone, this could happen any day, any moment. And the destruction and devastation in Haiti recently and in Sichuan Province in China last year makes our eyes wide open, thinking about Kathmandu’s future. If a massive tremor would rumble Kathmandu, most of the infrastructures would be destroyed, many homes would demolish; it would be difficult for the aid to arrive since the roads would be blocked (most of the hillside roads that connect Kathmandu could be affected by the earthquake) and the only international airport could face similar problems; communications could come to a standstill. But are we doing anything? How conscious are we?

Most of the newspapers in the country ran editorials about the 1934 earthquake and related it with Haiti. They also raised questions on the preparedness of the government and also citizens.

According to a story in Republica:

According to a study by NSET, more than 22,000 people will die if a quake similar in magnitude to that of 1934 hits Kathmandu Valley now.

The same study suggests that more than 50 percent of bridges will collapse if an earthquake of about 7 points on the Richter scale jolts the Valley. This means rescue work will be hampered. Ambulances, fire brigades and other vehicles will fail to move. Cities in the Valley will become disconnected from one another.

Tulasi Sitaula, Joint-Secretary at the Ministry of Physical Planning and Works (MoPPW), admits that most of the bridges in the Valley are vulnerable. “It is mainly due to lack of regular repair work,” he says. “Repairing bridges costs a huge amount of money. In some cases, repairing costs may be equal to that of building a new one. We think twice before repairing any bridge.”

As to The Kathmandu Post‘s story, Kathmandu Valley, being an earthquake prone area, isn’t yet prepared.

Being an earthquake prone region and given the fact such high magnitude tremors recure every 80 to 85 years, Nepal’s preparedness of now does not nearly suffice what it requires in reality.

According to Thir Bahadur G.C, under secretary at the Ministry of Home Affairs, the government is primarily focused on providing compensations and rehabilitation to the affected communities after the disaster occurs.

“There is lack of programmes to prepare and mitige so that the affected local communities are able to cope with natural calamities which occur frequently in the country,” G.C. said.

A data provided by the Home Ministry states that although the direct damage caused by natural disasters — including earthquakes — accounts for Rs 1.2 billion annually, the government, through its Central Disaster Relief Committee, allocates a negigable Rs 50 million to awareness and mitigation efforts. In light of the damages, this is clearly not enough.

And looking at the the narrow lanes and streets of Kathmandu, especially in places like Ason and Bhaktapur, getting trapped in the rubble and thousands in casualty isn’t just a prediction but a fact. Republica also points out t that the Nepalese capital has only three fire brigades that are in full effect.

In most parts of Kathmandu Valley, buildings stand chock-o-block on narrow alleys. Fire brigades and ambulances may be unable to negotiate these alleys in the aftermath of a big earthquake. Worse, the alleys will most probably be blocked with debris from collapsing high-rises. “Fighting the aftereffects of an earthquake with our full force is out of question,” says Basudev Hengaju, one of the most experienced firefighters with Basantapur Fire Brigade (BFB).

There are just three public fire brigades in the entire Valley. The others have become defunct. “We can more or less douse fires in normal situations,” says Hengaju, who was among the firefighters involved in clearing the debris after the 1988 earthquake. “But, we will simply fail to fight the aftereffects of a massive quake.”

Litter-bugs

As I walk through the streets of Kathmandu, which I absolutely love, some sights really turn me off. No, it’s not the dusty streets and heaps of garbage on the city’s sidewalks but the people who are responsible for it.

I call them litterbugs.

Every nook, every street, I see people littering–old, young, men, women, educated or not. It’s so easy for them to use the open streets and the city as a trashcan. And then they complain about how dirty Kathmandu is. Today, while traveling, I saw people extinguishing their cigarettes on the sidewalk, a man spits outside the window of a vehicle, a woman grabs some paper from her child and disposes on the street. These are all common sights here, and in most of this world, including India where I spent the last two months.

So you might be wondering if I do that But no. I don’t to the best of my abilities.

It’s not a habit I developed in the West. As I remember I had always been this way. I try not to litter. So when I don’t see any trashcans on the streets, I dispose the litter in my pockets temporarily. Yes, even if its a small piece of paper. That’s why when I check my pockets, I usually find something–chewing gum wrappers, receipts from the ATM and just yesterday I finally disposed the train tickets from Mumbai.

It’s not difficult, I say. People complain but don’t want to take actions. How can they expect to taste a ripe mango before planting its seed. Initiatives must be taken and talks about change must be implemented. And that change should incite from the self.

First published story after working in Nepal

So I turn the pages of Republica this morning and there’s my first story after I’ve officially started working. There’s this strange feeling when I see my stories, especially on a newspaper. I mean, with magazine, online, it’s not that of a strong feeling as when I see my stories on a newspaper.

Well, here is the Jay Allison story.

Jay Allen story (pdf)

Online

A day in Kathmandu

On my way to office, I walked through Kathmandu’s old market square–Ason. The place still retains its old charm: old buildings, narrow lanes, vegetable market, smell of dried spices. And even today, though modern market places sprinkle the city, people still flock to Ason, especially during festival seasons.

And coming to New Road, it’s like a sudden transformation from the old city center to the modern shopping district.

Today, as most of the times, there was some protest going on in the middle of the street. Traffic obstructed, tires burning and students on the street protesting over some irrelevant, stupid reason over some college issue.

For more pictures click here.

Two years since Reporting class

I’m just being nostalgic today. I browsed through the TCU Daily Skiff site and watched a News Now report, and suddenly I missed the days at TCU. And then I remember, it’s been two years since Reporting class.

Dr. Tisdale’s reporting class was our first step into the world of reporting. I remember the nervousness, the extra time we spent just for that class and the pressure of 14 stories!

Sitting at my office desk (now I’m actually a reporter for a national daily in Nepal), I remember the first story for reporting class, my second story for the Skiff–about the National Anthem Idol. A fun story to start with in an equally not-so-tough beat, diversity, it was a semester filled with hard work, dedication and too much nagging about the Skiff and the editors. Well, everybody does that, didn’t you?

And today, I feel I’ve come a long way. From the Skiff newsroom to the Rolling Stone and now Republica newsroom, I think it’s a mission accomplished in many ways. But it’s still that first story that brings up a lot of memories, it’s the time spent with my classmates, friends, who made the accomplishments together and it’s that Reporting class, Public Affairs Reporting Class and then Feature Writing class, which had crafted our skills, our professors who’ve encouraged us to be where we are today.

Well, all my friends from Reporting class, from the Skiff, we’ve done it.  Liz is a reporter and so are others…Marcus, Saerom, who else? Christina is off to the Navy! And we all should be proud of ourselves.

Go Frogs!

P.S. I got to confess something. There was a fact error in my first story and no one found. The game was against BYU and not Baylor. I was too scared to get an “F” for my first story.