Food sayings

During dinner at L. and S.'s, L. shared a proverb / saying that according to him was popular with soldiers (he used to be in the army, though it's not clear to me which army):

दाल भात तरकारी जिउ मेरो सरकारी 

daal bhaat tarkaari, jio mero sarkaari

(which seems to translate into something like 'lentil curry, rice and vegetables, my body my government')

I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean exactly - apart from expressing one's love for (and loyalty towards) the dish.

The closest saying in another language I could think of comes from Russian (and this one was apparently also popular with soldiers and it rhymes as well):

щи да каша пиша наша

shchi da kasha pisha nasha

('Cabbage soup and buckwheat porridge, that's our fare')

दाल भात तरकारी (Daal Bhaat Tarkaari)

For maybe the 4th time (I'm losing track) in a week and a half, Lauren and I were treated to dinner at L. and S.'s house. As usual, the menu consisted of Nepal's 'national dish' - दाल भात तरकारी daal bhaat tarkaari (lentil curry, rice and vegetables), followed by the best दहि dahi (curd) I've ever had.

S. decided it was time I learned to be a good modern Nepali house husband and help with the preparation of dinner. So after Lauren and I broke up the सिमी simi (beans), I got to peel and chop the लसुन lasun (garlic), प्याज pyaaz (onion) and अदुवा aduwaa (ginger), as well as the गोलभेंडा golbhenDaa (tomatoes) and धनियँ dhaniyan (coriander).

After putting some तेल tel (oil) and खुर्सानी khursaani (chillis) in the wok (now the details start getting sketchy), the beans, onions, garlic, half of the ginger and some काउली kauli (cauliflower) were thrown in, along with some बेसार besaar (turmeric), and given a good stir before being covered. A few minutes later, the tomatoes and the rest of the ginger were thrown in with some जीरा jiraa (cumin). Afterwards, the wok was taken off the fire and the coriander finally added.

And since I was the Nepali house husband in training, I was given the honour of standing over the hot stove stirring the veggies.

Me and S.

S. making sure I didn't ruin dinner

Music video in the park

So while there's a Nepali rock music video being filmed at the guest house this afternoon, I caught the filming of another more Bollywood-esque music video at the amusement park (aka 'fun park') near the Ratna Park bus station more than a week ago, on my second day in Kathmandu.

Cyber ID

According to this article from the Nepal-based blog 'Weird and Funny World', cybercafes here are supposed to now check clients' ID before allowing them to surf the net. This practice is something I'm quite familiar with from my time in China and India (at least in Kolkata).

None of the cybercafes I've visited over the past few days have asked for my ID, and it's pretty clear that the free wifi offered by most of the cafes in Thamel aren't too fussed about who uses their wifi, provided they can afford the prices - Or2K doesn't even have a password for its wifi network!

Considering that a compulsory helmet law for motorbike riders had to be withdrawn recently because it was too hard to enforce, I wonder if the 'ID requirement' at cybercafes will stick here. I'm also sure there are better ways to track 'cyber-criminals' on the web than to work out which cybercafes they frequent.

The Odd Couple

I often count it as a blessing when I can blend in with the local population (like when I was in China and Nagaland), yet still assert my position as a tourist when I start to speak English. Earlier that day I had purposely taken to wearing shorts and thongs to make it clear I was a tourist, just to experience all the repeated offers for 'Taxi?', 'Trekking?', 'Hashish?' you get in Thamel that can drive many a foreigner insane (I do get asked if I want these sometimes - especially hash - though not to the extent that other foreigners seem to be hassled.)

However, last night as Lauren and I were walking back to the guest house, we were verbally abused in English by a crazy Nepali man. Most of the abuse was directed at me and it seemed he was most upset that I had taken a foreign wife!

Now, to set the scene, Lauren - with her less than diminutive stature, straw-coloured hair and blue eyes - was wearing her gorgeous new kurta sulwar, often a sign of a foreign woman who's gone local (not loca). And I was well, dressed in a T-shirt and pants with a sling pouch and apparently looking rather local in the semi-darkness of a dimly lit road just out of Thamel. It's not the first time we've been mistaken for 'husband and wife' - my appearance at the guest house a week ago raised many questions and I can only imagine how scandalous it must have been when I moved out of my first room (post-rodent event) to one right next to hers.

Lauren explained to me that unlike many parts of SE Asia where you often see young Asian girls hanging out  with older Caucasian men, the trend in Kathmandu appears to be for young Nepali guys to be with older Caucasian woman. Just the other night I'd seen a couple at Or2K (btw, the best Israeli cafe in town) who fit this exact description (and yes, the first label I had for the middle-aged woman was 'cougar').

So I guess you can see this rather 'emasculating' reason for the crazy man's rant. He clearly has great pride in his country, and his penis.

Street Art in Kathmandu (II)

Found a few of Invader's installations here in Kathmandu.

Here's one from the old town area.

Counting wives

The other day I had to catch a taxi out of town to a place called Thecho just to the south of Kathmandu.

The great thing about being in a taxi in Nepal is that I get to unleash my basic Nepali on the poor unsuspecting taxi driver. A situation where both parties are stuck in one-on-one situation for about 30-40 minutes tends to breed patience, at least for the duration of the taxi ride (one can also bond easily over stupid drivers on the road and complain about the amount of traffic and cows on the roads). But to my credit, after a week of 1 hour one-on-one classes I've actually gotten quite good at introducing myself, talking about where I'm from, where I live, how many people are in my family, where they live, what they do etc. I can also ask other people about these same things, though I may only understand 50% of what they tell me.

Now, one thing you should know about Nepali, is that it uses numeral classifiers, similar to languages like Mandarin and Malay, where you almost always have to introduce a numeral classifier before a numeral and the noun it modifies. For example, if you want to say 'two bags', you need to say दुइटा झोला (dui-Taa jholaa), where दुइ (dui) is 'two', झोला (jholaa) is 'bag' and टा (-Taa) is a reduced form of the classifier वटा (-waTaa) which can be used with almost all nouns (like 个 ge in Mandarin). For people however, the classifier ना (-janaa) is used, e.g. दुइजना मन्छे (dui-janaa manchhe) 'two people'. This is something that my Nepali teacher had insisted on.

It therefore struck me as odd when my taxi driver said दुइटा श्रीमती (dui-Taa shrimati), referring to his 'two wives'. Acknowledging that Nepali society can be rather sexist in its treatment of women - one particular example is the festival Teej, where women fast for their husbands' long lives (no festival where husbands do likewise for their wives exists) - I simply took for granted that the use of the 'demeaning' numeral classifier here was an example of culture and social cognition reflected in the language's grammar.

At supper last night, Lauren and I confirmed that both दुइजना (dui-janaa) and दुइटा (dui-Taa) were acceptable when counting wives. However, both were equally acceptable when counting husbands श्रीमन (shriman). This leads me to suspect that despite my teacher's insistence that ना (-janaa) be used with people, वटा (-waTaa) is the more general one, with ना (-janaa) used to denote additional respect for people and in particularly situations (like 位 wei in Mandarin).

So unfortunately, no, the driver saying दुइटा श्रीमती (dui-Taa shrimati) wasn't a clear example of grammar reflecting a condescending view of women. Of course, given that polyandry is not practised in Nepali culture, one would still not expect to hear दुइजना श्रीमन (dui-janaa shriman), let alone दुइटा श्रीमन (dui-Taa shriman) 'two husbands' here!