On Wednesday, millions of Nepalis celebrated the final and most important day of the country's biggest festival, Dashain, 10 days of rejoice for the Goddess, Durga's victory of good over evil. Families gather by the masses to offer each other blessings and tikka, a mixture of rice with red powder and a little yogurt, smeared across the forehead. In all of their beautifully chubby glory, the women dress in bright red sari's with matching lipstick, while the men rendevouz in a designated room of the house to drink whiskey and gamble thousands of rupees away in card games based purely on the luck of the hand. For the occassion, my homestay mother gave me one of her old sari's to wear along with glitzy bangles and a silly updo that she felt was absolutely necessary. I was practically an Indian princess!! As guests started arriving to our house the festivities began. My homestay grandmother, who always has a gummy grin plastered on her soft face and walks with her body in a perfect 90 degree angle, her upper half parallel to the floor, sat down behind a table of brass bowls, candles, apples, and money. In order of age, beginning with the eldest, we each took our turn sitting on the opposite side of the table, bowing our heads to receive the blessings and tikka. The celebration continued with a vast feast, centered around the consumption of mutton, or goat meat, for a majority of Hindu families sacrifice a goat to Durga for the festival. (I unfortunately could not participate in the meat eating. Last week I ate buffalo momos with my family and threw up all night as a result, so I figured I should lay off the carnivorous diet). It was all a really neat and fun experience nonetheless. Though I couldn't understand a word anyone was saying, I sat and soaked up as much as I could.
At the end of our second week in Kathmandu, I am really beginning to feel infinitely more comfortable in this chaotic city. Even thought I know Kathmandu is safer than my hometown of Los Angeles, and so many other American cities for that matter, Nepal is the first place I've been where I so dramatically stick out. No matter what I do, there's absolutely no way to blend in. I can take public transportation, eat at local shops, but I will always be a young white girl. And because I look different, everyone stares, and by everyone, I means men. It's a popular anthropological topic, "the male gaze," and in Asia, staring is the representation of simple curiosity, rather than a rude gesture as it is in the U.S. Nonetheless, it made me uncomfortable. Everywhere I walked, countless eyes followed my body's movement, and I didn't know what to do but to feel self conscious. My mounting anxiety reached its peak when one night, I was catching a bus home (which are of course crammed with people) and the bus assistant tried to touch me inappropriately. He was disgustingly adament, and after trying to push him away, I finally yelled at him and got off the bus. In the moment I tried to brush it off, I didn't want to make a big deal about it in my mind because I so badly wanted to be comfortable in the dark city. But my heart was racing. While this brewed in the back of my mind, I was still reading Women Who Run With The Wolves, feeling empowered and awakened by its words. However, that sense of self power had to stay in my room, becasue when I walked out of the door onto the busy streets, I would once again feel objectified by the stares. Now that I've finished the book, I realize I was being a complete fool. Why should I let these people make me feel so small? Why should I victimize myself? Instead, I should take this city by the reigns and be the warrior goddess that I am! I can take this challenge as a test of my own strength! So on the night of this realization and on the nights proceeding, I told my Tibetan medicine mentor that I can walk the dark alleys by myself and wait to find a bus on my own. He reluctantly accepted my decision and I've been immensely successful! No longer do I get nervous at every mysteriously dark silhouette that passes, for I know that I'm stronger than I was giving myself credit for. Wherever I go in the world, there will always be a chance that I cross paths with that one creepy guy, but he is the minority. And it's unreasonable to let fear and anxiety rise with every male I walk by. What that bus attendant tried to do was an unacceptable, and I was stupid to try and let it slide by in my mind, but from all of this I have realized much. The most important thing being that I am capable. I can hear the voice of my instincts, my soul's life force, loud and clear, and will follow her where she leads.
"The wild nature teaches that we meet challenges as they occur. When wolves are badgered, they don't say, "Oh no! Not again!" They bound, pounce, run, dive, scramble, play dead, go for the throat, whatever needs to be done. So we cannot be shocked that there is entropy, deterioration, hard times. Let us understand that the issues that entrap women's (and men's) joy will always shift and shape change, but in our own essential natures we find the absolute stamina, the necessary libido for all necessary acts of heart.... If you want to re-summon Wild Woman, refuse to be captured. With instincts sharpened for balance, I can promise you will become one vital woman."
- Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes
At the end of our second week in Kathmandu, I am really beginning to feel infinitely more comfortable in this chaotic city. Even thought I know Kathmandu is safer than my hometown of Los Angeles, and so many other American cities for that matter, Nepal is the first place I've been where I so dramatically stick out. No matter what I do, there's absolutely no way to blend in. I can take public transportation, eat at local shops, but I will always be a young white girl. And because I look different, everyone stares, and by everyone, I means men. It's a popular anthropological topic, "the male gaze," and in Asia, staring is the representation of simple curiosity, rather than a rude gesture as it is in the U.S. Nonetheless, it made me uncomfortable. Everywhere I walked, countless eyes followed my body's movement, and I didn't know what to do but to feel self conscious. My mounting anxiety reached its peak when one night, I was catching a bus home (which are of course crammed with people) and the bus assistant tried to touch me inappropriately. He was disgustingly adament, and after trying to push him away, I finally yelled at him and got off the bus. In the moment I tried to brush it off, I didn't want to make a big deal about it in my mind because I so badly wanted to be comfortable in the dark city. But my heart was racing. While this brewed in the back of my mind, I was still reading Women Who Run With The Wolves, feeling empowered and awakened by its words. However, that sense of self power had to stay in my room, becasue when I walked out of the door onto the busy streets, I would once again feel objectified by the stares. Now that I've finished the book, I realize I was being a complete fool. Why should I let these people make me feel so small? Why should I victimize myself? Instead, I should take this city by the reigns and be the warrior goddess that I am! I can take this challenge as a test of my own strength! So on the night of this realization and on the nights proceeding, I told my Tibetan medicine mentor that I can walk the dark alleys by myself and wait to find a bus on my own. He reluctantly accepted my decision and I've been immensely successful! No longer do I get nervous at every mysteriously dark silhouette that passes, for I know that I'm stronger than I was giving myself credit for. Wherever I go in the world, there will always be a chance that I cross paths with that one creepy guy, but he is the minority. And it's unreasonable to let fear and anxiety rise with every male I walk by. What that bus attendant tried to do was an unacceptable, and I was stupid to try and let it slide by in my mind, but from all of this I have realized much. The most important thing being that I am capable. I can hear the voice of my instincts, my soul's life force, loud and clear, and will follow her where she leads.
"The wild nature teaches that we meet challenges as they occur. When wolves are badgered, they don't say, "Oh no! Not again!" They bound, pounce, run, dive, scramble, play dead, go for the throat, whatever needs to be done. So we cannot be shocked that there is entropy, deterioration, hard times. Let us understand that the issues that entrap women's (and men's) joy will always shift and shape change, but in our own essential natures we find the absolute stamina, the necessary libido for all necessary acts of heart.... If you want to re-summon Wild Woman, refuse to be captured. With instincts sharpened for balance, I can promise you will become one vital woman."
- Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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