Learn Chinese in Nepal

As I mentioned in my last post, I've noticed a proliferation of Chinese signs in Nepal since my last visit here 2 years ago.

I've also noticed a number of Nepalis speaking Chinese. And there are a number of options to learn Chinese here - though from what I've been told it's usually taught by Nepalis who've worked and lived in China. Just look at this photo below:

 

While I do believe it's necessary to develop an identity in another language that you're learning (especially if you're trying to join a language community), I find it odd for a language school to say they'll give you an identity (assuming "Get your Identity by being touch with Us." means just that).

The Chinese could be translated as such:
"Hurry up!
Chinese classes have started.
Don't miss out on this chance.
Hurry up and join us."

Looking at the Chinese writing, one thing that suggests to me that it wasn't written by a native Chinese speaker is that the first character in the third line should be 别 ('don't), but the person has written the left hand side part of the character as 男, not 另.

Back in Nepal

It's been 2 years, but I'm back in Nepal! It also means I'm back to updating the blog.

This time I'm back at the height of the monsoon. It's been raining pretty much everyday since I arrived. I just spent the last 3 days with some friends in Pokhora, which I'm told is in a particularly rainy part of the country. Although we didn't manage to go paragliding, at the suggestion of some other friends, we did rent a rowboat and go on the lake for a swim.

One thing I've noticed in Nepal is the higher frequency of signs in Chinese, compared even to two years ago. Here are two signs I noticed on the main shopping street in Lakeside, Pokhora (where most tourists hang out).

The thing to note here, is that the Chinese reads, "我爱尼泊尔" which means "I love Nepal".
 

And this sign reads "我爱博卡拉" which means "I love Pokhora". As random as the quote in English right below it.
 

Auto accidents in Dimapur

Accidents involving autos / auto rickshaws occur quite frequently in Dimapur, from what I've seen in the papers. Most seem to involve alcohol consumption, so I'm not surprised. Of course, I'm always amazed that not more accidents occur (in Dimapur and in India in general), despite the apparent chaos on the road.

On Republic Day this year, after the end of the 36 hour bandh, I was sitting in my bed watching TV when I heard a crash from the street around 8,30pm.

Looking out, I saw an auto had been T-boned by a Gypsy (at least I think that's what it was).


A crowd gathered around quite quickly. Some guys pushed the auto a little bit in order to let the few cars plying the road circumvent the accident site. In the absence of trained paramedics, I saw two guys haul the driver out of the auto and carry him away, his arms around their shoulders (a big no-no if you're in Australia, but necessary in places where you can't expect paramedics to arrive in time). I couldn't see what condition he was in. Thankfully, there didn't appear to be any passengers in the auto at the time.



By 9.15pm (45 min after the crash), a truck arrived to tow the vehicle away. I was actually quite impressed by how quickly it came.

I'm not sure what happened afterwards. I don't recall seeing any mention of it in the local papers, which sometimes report on traffic accidents. Maybe someone might know more about this?

Getting from Dimapur to Kohima / Getting around Dimapur

I have to admit, it's been almost two weeks since my last post and I'm currently in Singapore. The thing is, I lost internet connectivity my last few days in Nagaland because the top-up I paid for at the Reliance office the week before never went through *grrrr* (I paid for it, but my credit was never topped up). I then had an extremely full-on week in Guwahati at the NEILS 7 conference, which I will blog about soon.

What I was wanted to talk about in my last post before leaving Nagaland was how one gets around Dimapur.

Here's the exit from the Dimapur Railway station, as seen from the opposite side of the car park. Anyone entering the state by train will come out from this exit.


If you're looking to go to Kohima, walk straight out the exit. Close to the other side of the car park, you should see a stand for shared taxis to your left. There's a counter with a sign that reads 'All Nagaland Taxi Association' (or something like that) that sells tickets up for Rs 200 a person. You'll get a seat number assigned to you. If it's seat no. 1, you're next to the driver. The other three numbers mean the back row.

Whether you look local or not, if you're carrying luggage, you're sure to be approached by touts offering rides to Kohima for the same price or slightly less. They're not usually too dodgy - the main reason these guys don't go through the ticket counter is because there's a limit of 4 passengers if they go through the ticket counter. Otherwise, they can squeeze in a 5th person in the front row next to the driver. And maybe even a 6th person at the back... That's probably why I prefer buying a ticket at the counter, because I know I'll have more space.

If you're staying in Dimapur and need to get to your hotel, your best bet is to catch an auto rickshaw, or 'auto' as they are commonly known in this part of the world. You can see a few of them parked outside the station in the photo above. Just tell the driver where you're going and ask for the fare. The word for 'fare' is bhara or bara (since most people don't produce the breathy stop) and 'how much' is kiman. I tend to say Bara kiman?, though I don't know if that's good Nagamese or not.

One convenient thing about Nagaland (and in other parts of the NE) is that the drivers will often respond with the English numbers. Most locals would also struggle to count in Hindi or Assamese, except maybe in multiples of 5 or 10.

What I notice about Dimapur as well, is the lack of big buses, which you see all over in Kohima. Instead, you see autos plying up and down fixed routes, often with signs showing the areas they are allowed to travel in.

From the railway station, you will see autos with the sign 'TOWN AREA', which is pretty straight forward, except if you're like me and haven't quite figured out what the town boundaries are. I expect Hong Kong market and City Tower would fall under this category. Another sign you might find on an auto around the railway station is 'RLY GATE TO CMD' (see the photo in this Nagaland Post article). It took me a while to figure this one out, but it stands for 'Railway (Station) to Chumukedima' - Chumukedima is the last little village before the checkpoint if you're heading from Dimapur to Kohima.

If you want an auto all to yourself, tell the driver 'hire', state your destination and ask for the fare. You don't always have to say 'hire' - for instance, it should be obvious if you're coming out of the railway station with all your luggage that you want the auto all to yourself.

Finally, if you're travelling around in a shared auto, don't forget the magic word to make the driver stop and let you down: 'SIDE!'

Bandhs

For many people in South Asia, bandhs are a part of life. The first time I heard the word, I thought it was just the local pronunciation for 'ban'. I soon found out what a bandh really was. In fact, I'm living through another one right now.

The word is sometimes translated as a 'strike', but it's different to the kind of labour union strike one might experience in the West. The word bandh comes from Hindi बंद which means 'closed' (pronounced like 'bund', but with a longer vowel sound, i.e. 'bahnd', but my friends in Nepal say it's pronounced more like 'bahn-duh' over there). Unsurprisingly, the main feature of a bandh is the forced closure of private businesses. Shopkeepers who dare open their doors are subjected to violence and arson by the party or organisation who called for the bandh.

In addition, public transport is not allowed on the road but in some instances, all vehicular traffic is banned. Of course, with everything shut, it's not as if most people have anywhere to go.

There are exemptions granted to certain groups: pharmacies and hospitals are allowed to remain open. Autos on 'hospital duty' and 'school duty' are allowed to ply the roads (or autos with signs that read 'hospital duty').

Bandhs can last a few hours to a few days. They are usually announced a few days before by the group calling it, typically in protest of the government, or a perceived grievance caused by the government. They can also be limited to a particular town or district, or they can be state-wide.

Last Tuesday there was a 24 hour state-wide bandh in Nagaland, but the announcement came pretty late. It was mainly in protest of the army because it wouldn't let one of the leader of one of the main Underground factions go to Zunheboto (which I'm told has since been surrounded by army personnel who are intent on keeping out the two other main factions who've been fighting for weeks). Autos were still plying the main routes in Dimapur, but all the shops were closed.

My friend Lauren tells me there's a transport bandha in Kathmandu today because of the rising price of fuel.

Over here in Nagaland, we're having a 36 hour bandh that started at 6am today and will end tomorrow at 6pm. it seems to be for the same reason as last Tuesday's bandh.

It's not a particularly dangerous situation, but it's a huge disruption to everyday life. It's not as if shopkeepers want to close their businesses, though to government workers, it probably doesn't make much of a difference as long as they still get their salary. In any case, I'm not planning to leave the hotel today and tomorrow. Given that tomorrow's Republic Day, I wasn't planning on heading out anyway.

At least there's still room service.

Airport security in India

If you're ever had to enter an airport in India, you'll probably know that you need a print-out of your boarding pass just to enter the airport (though I wonder if they've started accepting screen displays on people's smart phones). No boarding pass, no entry.

But if you're seeing friends off and really want to get inside the terminal, there's usually a booth where you can purchase an entry ticket to get into the airport. I assume the entry fee is mostly to keep 'undesirables' out of the actual terminal, forcing them to congregate right outside the exit to the airport.

A few days ago I was seeing off some friends at Dimapur Airport, Nagaland's only airport. Unlike most airports in India, there aren't hoards of people waiting outside for arriving passengers. The reason is that there aren't that many flights into Dimapur, and many scheduled flights, especially the Indian Airlines ones, get cancelled - I see cancellation announcements most days in the Nagaland Post.



It was therefore no surprise that when my friends entered the terminal, walking past the non-working scanners, I was told by the soldier at the door that I couldn't follow them without a boarding pass. So I asked if I could buy an entry ticket.

The flat answer was: No.

Why?

I didn't expect the soldier to answer my question, but there was a helpful notice at the window where entry tickets are usually sold.

"SELLING OF ENTRY TICKET HAS BEEN BANNED W.E.F. 15TH JAN 2012 TO 31ST JAN 2012 DUE SECURITY CONCERN AT DIMAPUR AIRPORT ON EVE OF REPUBLIC DAY"

Oh, Republic Day. Not the happiest day if you're living in NE India.

I might stay in my hotel room the rest of the week watching the Australian Open.

Dimapur Supermarket

Any visitor to Dimapur should know where 'Supermarket' is. It's close to the Railway Station and there're a few hotels around, including the Hotel Saramati (really not worth it for the price) and the De Oriental Dream hotel, and the Kachari ruins are right around the corner. Locals will know when you tell them you're going to 'Supermarket'.

But don't expect an air-conditioned shop selling groceries. The place is more a complex than an actual supermarket. The signs all seem to suggest it should be rightfully known as the 'Naga Shopping Arcade' and to me, it's definitely more a 'shopping arcade' than 'supermarket'. The whole place certainly looks past its prime, but there are a few shops selling traditional 'tribal' clothes and items.



There are also lots of shops selling more modern clothes.


But what seems to define the place (and my friends use them as a landmarks) are the coffin shops available.






I think I saw two of the coffin shops open the other day during the state-wide bandh. Curious...