For the first time, Nepal is having elections today. It has taken 10 years of civil war, violence, confusion, and corruption to get to this point. Most people don't understand what they are voting for. Some think it is for a president, but it is not. The elections are only to decide which of the nearly 60 political parties will be chosen to carve the new government. There are 7 main parties, and it is certain that they will be represented. It is almost as certain that the monarchy will be abolished and Nepal be transformed into a federation.
Many people have died up to this point, and more will probably die after the election. Candidates were kidnapped and killed, voters were intimidated, despite the efforts of international election watchers. Riots broke out in Kathmandu, and in the far west and far east of Nepal.
Here in centrally located Bharatpur, things are peaceful. There are no cars, buses, or trucks on the roads. Only pedestrians and bicycles. Most of the shops are closed. Only a few local corner markets are open - families who can't afford to take a day off. The larger schools in town are the polling places. Crowds or people are hanging outside the school gates, waiting to vote, waiting to see what happens, and watching to see what goes on. The people in Bharatpur are very interested in the outcome, but don't seem to be as worked up about it as other areas in Nepal.
Everyone at the school has gone to their homes. Most live in other areas of Nepal, and can only vote in their registered area of residence. There is no absentee voting. The highways are closed. The borders have been closed since noon on the 8th. We think the airplanes are at the border, but they can't cross until the border opens - probably in a couple of days.
No one knows what the elections will really bring - whether anything will change. Some parties promise food and shelter for everyone, but have done nothing in the past to give their words credibility. Everyone hopes this will end the decade-long slide backwards in time and bring Nepal into the present. Prosperity would be nice, but no one expects Nepal to stop being a third-world country.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Sanjog
Things change slowly but happen fast around here. Yesterday Shivendra arrived from Kathmandu and got me updated on what is happening. The aircraft should be at the border by the 8th, and Shivendra will personally make sure they go through. CAAN is coming to Bharatpur to give the written test sometime after the Nepali New Year (April 13th). The students are skeptical.
About a month ago I decided to buy a bicycle. We have a truck that will come and pick me up at the house, but it is also used to pick up everyone else. I can't come and go when I need. We have a motorcycle, but it is heavy for me, and in this traffic, I feel I am putting my life in my hands when I ride it. A bicycle goes at a sane pace, can maneuver around obstacles, and is good exercise.
"Who is the best negotiator," I asked. Whenever I buy something here, everyone asks how much I paid. No matter what I say, they tell me I paid too much and that a local could get it much cheaper. So I decided to ask one of the students to help me.
Sanjog seemed to be the best candidate. "He negotiates everything," someone said. "I hate to go shopping with him," said another, "because he argues every price."
Normally keeping to himself, I had not seen that side of him, but I trusted what the other students said. So Sanjog and I took the truck and driver (Prakesh) around to every bicycle shop in town.
"These bikes are too cheap," Sanjog would tell me. "They want too much money. They won't negotiate," he would say at another shop.
We came to one shop with several bikes out front and Sanjog went inside to talk to the owner. After five minutes of intense discussion, he came out and pointed at a pink bicycle. "Do you like that one?"
I cringed. Pink is definitely not my color. I pointed to a large forest green one. "No," said Sanjog. "That is a man's bike. You would not like that one." OK, I thought. I pointed to a black bicycle decorated with orange flames.
Sanjog went back into the shop and talked to the owner some more. Another five minutes later he came out and said, "Let's go." We walked away, not looking back. I asked what happened. "Wait," was all he said.
We walked to another bike shop, and he talked to the owner there. After about 15 minutes he came out and signaled for me to follow him. We walked back to the first bike shop. The owner was ready to deal.
Within minutes, pedals were put onto the black bike. A bell was added (required in Nepal), and the seat was lowered. "No," I said. "Leave the seat high." "No," said Sanjog, "you must ride with the seat down."
Nepalis ride their bike sitting up straight, with the seat low enough that they can touch the ground while sitting. I am used to the American style, where seat height can give you leverage for pedaling, and you lean the bike over when you stop.
Sanjog said to me, "3800 rupees." "Is that good?" I asked. "Yes. Down from 4500."
I gave Sanjog the money, and he handed it to the owner. Prakesh loaded the bike in the back of the truck, and we drove home.
It's good to have wheels.
About a month ago I decided to buy a bicycle. We have a truck that will come and pick me up at the house, but it is also used to pick up everyone else. I can't come and go when I need. We have a motorcycle, but it is heavy for me, and in this traffic, I feel I am putting my life in my hands when I ride it. A bicycle goes at a sane pace, can maneuver around obstacles, and is good exercise.
"Who is the best negotiator," I asked. Whenever I buy something here, everyone asks how much I paid. No matter what I say, they tell me I paid too much and that a local could get it much cheaper. So I decided to ask one of the students to help me.
Sanjog seemed to be the best candidate. "He negotiates everything," someone said. "I hate to go shopping with him," said another, "because he argues every price."
Normally keeping to himself, I had not seen that side of him, but I trusted what the other students said. So Sanjog and I took the truck and driver (Prakesh) around to every bicycle shop in town.
"These bikes are too cheap," Sanjog would tell me. "They want too much money. They won't negotiate," he would say at another shop.
We came to one shop with several bikes out front and Sanjog went inside to talk to the owner. After five minutes of intense discussion, he came out and pointed at a pink bicycle. "Do you like that one?"
I cringed. Pink is definitely not my color. I pointed to a large forest green one. "No," said Sanjog. "That is a man's bike. You would not like that one." OK, I thought. I pointed to a black bicycle decorated with orange flames.
Sanjog went back into the shop and talked to the owner some more. Another five minutes later he came out and said, "Let's go." We walked away, not looking back. I asked what happened. "Wait," was all he said.
We walked to another bike shop, and he talked to the owner there. After about 15 minutes he came out and signaled for me to follow him. We walked back to the first bike shop. The owner was ready to deal.
Within minutes, pedals were put onto the black bike. A bell was added (required in Nepal), and the seat was lowered. "No," I said. "Leave the seat high." "No," said Sanjog, "you must ride with the seat down."
Nepalis ride their bike sitting up straight, with the seat low enough that they can touch the ground while sitting. I am used to the American style, where seat height can give you leverage for pedaling, and you lean the bike over when you stop.
Sanjog said to me, "3800 rupees." "Is that good?" I asked. "Yes. Down from 4500."
I gave Sanjog the money, and he handed it to the owner. Prakesh loaded the bike in the back of the truck, and we drove home.
It's good to have wheels.
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