Teaching in Nepal

Teaching in Nepal 

For those who remember Pokhara in the 1970s, picture the Royal Nepalese Airlines flight descending as the cattle were herded off the grass airstrip. There were no proper terminal buildings, few motorized vehicles, the only tourists were mountaineering expeditions or gaggles of hippies. The outlying villagers coming to market occasionally stood and stared indisbelief; a reaction I was often tempted to reciprocate, as their weather-beaten faces, array of colourful clothes, or selection of strange vegetables, were something I had previously only seen in National Geographic magazines. It was within this batabaran (environment) that I was trekking back to Pokhara in 1971 with LCpl Minbahadur Gurung and a porter when we passed a village hut with two benches outside, on which were arranged the village school and in front was their Newari headmaster. The chanting stopped and the entire school watched silently as we trekked by. “How young the headmaster looks”, I remarked, to which Min replied “You could do that job” and so an idea was planted that took nearly 40 years to germinate. Forgive the personal reminiscence, as I am sure that you have better ones of your own, but its purpose is to set the contrast between Nepal as many of us remember it then, and Nepal in 2009 (or 2066 in the Bikram calendar). In October 2009 I returned to Nepal and started a term`s teaching at a village school in Ghanpokhara, north east of Teaching in Nepal – 2009 By Capt T R Morris, Hon Sec 6 GRRA Pokhara on the western side of the Khudi river, whose waters flow into the Marsyangdi valley. The school was established with the help of Lt Col Gopal Gurung`s parents and he continues to act as Chairman of the Management Committee and benefactor, although he no longer generally lives in the village. To reach the school, one must leave the Kathmandu-Pokhara highway at Dhumre and travel north to Besi Sahar where the metalled road runs out, then continue north to Khudi where the hydro electric project is and thereafter climb westwards to Ghanpokhara at about 2,120 metres (6,955 feet). Search against Ghanpokhara on Google and you may see pictures of the village and be offered trips to it; and this is perhaps the most fundamental change that affects the village and its people. No longer is this village (or indeed are most villages in Nepal) cut off from the rest of the world, save for the occasional returning soldier or passing mountaineer. Nowadays tourists, research workers, volunteers, camera crews, various officials and journalists come into the village and similarly families send relatives not only into the British and Indian armies but on contract work to the Middle East. Ghanpokhara is supposed to have 16 ‘homestay’ houses run by Agma Samuha (like our Mothers Union) where tourists can sample village life and trekking tours link this village with Ghale Gaun as part of a popular trip. Children growing up in Ghanpokhara do not necessarily expect to spend their whole lives in the village. Those who are ambitious and able, look beyond the village or even Kathmandu or India, and see the rewards that their dajus and didis are enjoying overseas. Ghanpokhara may be remote but it is certainly not isolated and with radio, email and mobile phone, contact with the outside world should be instant and constant (except when load sharing cuts the power supply, the signal is too weak or another bandh (strike) occurs). The old panchayat system for administering village life was replaced over ten years ago by the Gaun Bikas Samiti (Village Development Committee) or GBS. It is supposed to consist of local officials. In some ways this means that a mukhiya (headman) or a single wealthy landowner cannot dominate village life as tightly as he did in the past, but it also means that the authority of village elders is no longer absolute. Matters affecting a larger area are dealt with by the Jilla Bikas Samiti (District Development Committee) or JBS and paribartan (change) can at least be discussed, even if its implementation is slow or hindered by lack of funds. This reflected the bigger picture in Kathmandu in 2009 where you will recall that the draft constitution remained unresolved and the Maoist leader ‘Prachandra’ had withdrawn from the government and was threatening to resort to violence again, whilst the former Royal Nepalese Army was maintaining its uncompromising stance towards absorbing former Maoists into its ranks. Constructive debate had been replaced by emotive argument and personal animosity and the government was paralysed as a result. The people showed their frustrations by calling strikes which only added to the chaos and further frustrations.

However my focus was not on national politics but on our village life and whilst national politics made for a lively kurakani (conversation), we were basically a farming community and like all farmers our main concern was the weather. In my first month (October) it was dry, the rice was ripening, there was plenty of grass to cut for the buffaloes, oxen and goats, the chickens were laying and so life was pleasant. But no one sees farming as a profession. Each family grows only for their own consumption and not to sell. In the poor mountainous parts of Spain and Portugal, where life is not dissimilar, farmers have realized the value of plastic sheeting to force vegetable, fruit and even flower crops for sale. In Ghanpokhara I had only seen one or two gardens using small pieces of plastic for their own vegetables. Not far from the village are the cliffs festooned with bees` nests and later in November the honey hunters dangled from frayed ropes with no protection to extract the honey, as witnessed on television some years ago. Even at a safe distance the angry bees buzzed round me furiously.
source:- khukuri-2011 pdf