It's over. I can't believe that it is all over. Sorry for the slight drama, but I just can't believe that this adventure has come to an end. It took me a few days to process it all... it's like all the exhaustion I should've felt the last two months is coming out all at once now that I'm finally allowing it to.
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| Rigzin serenading me... |
The start of the end was the 25th of July. The day of the leaving party. I had planned that that day instead of classes we would have a 'party' instead because the next day at noon I would be leaving the monastery for good. Candies had been bought, games had been prepared and one of the older monks lent me his music speakers. I waited in the class and slowly the excited kids of class 1 started pouring in. We sat in a big circle and I read them the letter that I had written for them; laughs ensued at our inside jokes (oh snap, yes, we actually have inside jokes!!! I only realized this as I was writing the letters! Too good). I opened the bag of candies and packets of biscuits for them and as we were munching the food down three of my students declared that they wanted to sing songs for me. The first started, Rigzin, the boy with slight mental problems, he sang 'waving flag' (the world cup song) to me because we had had a conversation about that a week earlier. He sang so quietly and shyly in front of us all, but it was just such a lovely gesture, I'm so proud of him, these kids... Then a pair of boys, Yonten and Kedup, sang my favorite Hindi song to me. With the help of the monks (I kept on humming it in class) I discovered the name of the song; Tumhiho. How is this my favorite song? It is played absolutely everywhere. I walk in the village and it's playing out of the window of someone's house, I'm at a shop and it's playing on the radio, I'm sitting next to a group of kids and it's playing on their phone, I'm on the bus and it's playing on the cracking speakers. And because of this all now I will associate this song with Nepal for the rest of my life. I love that music can have that power. I mean, I listen to the song 'White Flag' by Dido and I'm 8, in the car with my Korean friend on the way to a theme park in Poland. I hear the song 'Left Outside Alone' by Anastacia and I'm 11 on holiday in England. I hear any song by Akon and I'm back to my 13 year old tween self at his concert in Dubai. And now this song will be added to the list. Yes, sometime in the future when I'm old and grey in my rocking chair I'll hear this cheesy Hindi song and for a moment I'll be 18 again at the monastery in Sundarijaal...
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Showing off their party
tricks... |
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| Party ticks 2.0 |
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| Cute monk selfie |
After the adorable performances we finished the snacks and started playing music. The young monks went crazy. Dancing, singing and semi-kungfu fighting... They may wear the orange robes they're still just as rowdy and rough as any boys their age!!!! It was all fun and games but after a while I really had to calm them down (they may have had a slight sugar rush from all the candy, oops) and change the pace; we started playing games. They attempted to teach me some Nepali game but I had no clue what was going on; it was a blast none the less. And before I knew it the hour was over and it was time for them to leave. As they started leaving the class for the last time a few students came and gave me drawings and letters as goodbye gifts... I almost cried.
Then the older guys from class two came in. We all sat in a circle again and I read them their letter, again filled with inside jokes... They applauded me at the end, looking half-amused, half-sad. Then they declared that they also wanted to sing for me! And what song did they sing? You guessed it. Tumhiho. Double performance, was it my birthday??? It was such a lovely moment. After that I taught them one of my favorite games, "ninja", and they absolutely loved it. I failed miserably because I was way too busy talking and laughing to focus, but the monks totally rocked at the game! After a couple of games we decided to play something else; they took a piece of paper and ripped it into 8 pieces, wrote something on each piece and got a bottle. It was spin the bottle... monk style. Yep. Side note: no kissing involved. Basically when the bottle points to you you have to pick one of the pieces of paper which all have embarrassing tasks on them; sing, dance, say I love you, be a slave, do push-ups ect. It was hilarious. And the dancing, oh the dancing... But soon the end of that class came too. Everyone was saying their thanks and as they left one of the boys stayed behind and handed me a gift. A beautiful, heartfelt, hand-written letter and a bracelet. You guessed it... I could've cried again.
11:00 am and time for the last class. At this point I was feeling a bit exhausted but after we opened yet another pack of the super sweet candies the sugar pushed me along. We did the circle thing where I read them the letter that I wrote to their class, they loved it. We played "ninja" as well, danced to music and then they also attempted to teach me some Nepali game... unsuccessfully. We talked some more and then at 11:40 am I ended my last class for the last time. It was time for me to bring the football downstairs for them... I had been telling them that I had a surprise but they had no clue what it would be. So at 12, the time we had planned that I would give the gift, they all went to the front of the Pooja room. I wrapped the ball in my mostquito net and a bag so that it would not be 100% obvious that it was a ball and walked down to the meeting spot. The monks excitedly gathered around... then the moment came... I revealed the gift; a brand new, bright orange, real puma football; they went absolutely crazy!!!!! Cheering, laughing, hugging me (woah!) and cheering again. Oh my, it was one of the best moments of my life. Just the fact that something as simple as a football can bring that much joy to them changed a little something inside me...
I had my final Dal Bhat lunch accompanied by a huge bag of aloo (spiced potatoes) which I shared with all the monks. I had bought it the day before when I went to get chowmein (a noodle dish) for the final time. I have had chowmein so many times in Nepal; at a restaurant in Kathmandu, at both of the hotels I've stayed at in Thamel, at a restaurant in Boudha... but the best chowmein I've had is sold at a super, super sketchy shop in Sundarijaal. So sketchy that the shop doesn't even have a name... AND it's only 25 rupees (compared to the 180 rupees at all the restaurants!!!) HELLO! I'll miss it way too much to be acceptable. I'll miss all the Nepali and Indian food actually. Oh dear god..... I am so glad for the cooking lessons Isuda gave!!! AND one of my roommates at NYUAD is Indian!!!! All will be fine. But yes, the food here will be one of the things I'll miss the most. The whole Nepali culture revolves around food. You know how in the west when you're standing around and you want to strike up a conversation or when there's an awkward silence... you usually talk about the weather. Here? Well here we talk about food. "Hey" "hi, nice to see you, how are you?" "good, good" *awkward silence* "......so what did you have for lunch?". Yep. Or when you go to their house and immediately they offer you food, and it's not just a biscuit or something, I mean real home cooked, good food that they are waiting to eat for lunch... ahh... No wonder I gained so much weight here. Yeah, did you know that here in Nepal it is seen as a good thing to have some meat on your bones? It's actually a compliment to be called fat. And oh my God it has been happening way too often at the monastery. A few days ago in class Kalsang goes "Zizi, I have a good news for you, you are fat now".......... ok. And when I was spinning the prayer wheel for the first time "Zizi, don't do too much exercise, you will become thin again!" Oh if only the west was like this... it would save a whole bunch of teenage girls from a whole bunch of tears.
The day before I had organized one final surprise. After advice from my neighbour Tenzin (I mean, who else gives me advice... seriously, what will I do without him?!) during my last Thukpa dinner. He said I could give a bit of money so that the cook could make a very, very nice dinner on my final night, that way I could give something to everyone, and nothing makes any of them happier than food (...unless it's a brand new football). I thought about it for 3.2 seconds and then agreed. We called over one of the older monks and discussed the money. It started with 2000 rupees... that would get us buffalo momos. Nope, gurl I'm too vegan for that. Then to 4000 rupees, which would get us cheese momos. Still a no. It's not the season for vegetables, so getting veg momos would be 6000 rupees. After another 3.2 seconds I ran to my room and got the money. So much for living cheaply these last few days... the truth is that after the money stealing my parents gave me the blessing to use the emergency debit card that they had left with me (and which I had forgotten about), so I was a rich bitch again (not really). So yes, I gave the money to the cook.
By the next day (the 25th) at 4:00 pm it all started. I went down to the kitchen where 10 select monks were working with the cook. Chopping, steaming, boiling, mashing... momos! I helped out for the next 3 hours. I LEARNT HOW TO MAKE MOMOS. Okay, it started off terribly with the monks making fun of my efforts (we are on that level of friendship (oh snap), don't worry, it wasn't mean) but by the 57th one (and 1.5 hours later) I WAS A PRO. I can now make a momo in less than 30 seconds... I have a video.
Dinner time came around and the surprise on the faces of all the monks was worth all the money I had put in and more. The evening was followed by thousands of sincere "thank you"s for my efforts of the entire day; the parties, the ball, the momos, I totally spoilt them. It was worth all the money. They gave me so many momos that by the time I couldn't possibly fit another one in my stomach the plate still looked full. Such a memorable last supper. Oh the end was becoming so real... the next morning would be the last time I heard the Pooja, the last time I had rotis, the last time I'd wake up in Sundarijaal for a long while...
Charlotte x
The start of the end was the 25th of July. The day of the leaving party. I had planned that that day instead of classes we would have a 'party' instead because the next day at noon I would be leaving the monastery for good. Candies had been bought, games had been prepared and one of the older monks lent me his music speakers. I waited in the class and slowly the excited kids of class 1 started pouring in. We sat in a big circle and I read them the letter that I had written for them; laughs ensued at our inside jokes (oh snap, yes, we actually have inside jokes!!! I only realized this as I was writing the letters! Too good). I opened the bag of candies and packets of biscuits for them and as we were munching the food down three of my students declared that they wanted to sing songs for me. The first started, Rigzin, the boy with slight mental problems, he sang 'waving flag' (the world cup song) to me because we had had a conversation about that a week earlier. He sang so quietly and shyly in front of us all, but it was just such a lovely gesture, I'm so proud of him, these kids... Then a pair of boys, Yonten and Kedup, sang my favorite Hindi song to me. With the help of the monks (I kept on humming it in class) I discovered the name of the song; Tumhiho. How is this my favorite song? It is played absolutely everywhere. I walk in the village and it's playing out of the window of someone's house, I'm at a shop and it's playing on the radio, I'm sitting next to a group of kids and it's playing on their phone, I'm on the bus and it's playing on the cracking speakers. And because of this all now I will associate this song with Nepal for the rest of my life. I love that music can have that power. I mean, I listen to the song 'White Flag' by Dido and I'm 8, in the car with my Korean friend on the way to a theme park in Poland. I hear the song 'Left Outside Alone' by Anastacia and I'm 11 on holiday in England. I hear any song by Akon and I'm back to my 13 year old tween self at his concert in Dubai. And now this song will be added to the list. Yes, sometime in the future when I'm old and grey in my rocking chair I'll hear this cheesy Hindi song and for a moment I'll be 18 again at the monastery in Sundarijaal...
Then the older guys from class two came in. We all sat in a circle again and I read them their letter, again filled with inside jokes... They applauded me at the end, looking half-amused, half-sad. Then they declared that they also wanted to sing for me! And what song did they sing? You guessed it. Tumhiho. Double performance, was it my birthday??? It was such a lovely moment. After that I taught them one of my favorite games, "ninja", and they absolutely loved it. I failed miserably because I was way too busy talking and laughing to focus, but the monks totally rocked at the game! After a couple of games we decided to play something else; they took a piece of paper and ripped it into 8 pieces, wrote something on each piece and got a bottle. It was spin the bottle... monk style. Yep. Side note: no kissing involved. Basically when the bottle points to you you have to pick one of the pieces of paper which all have embarrassing tasks on them; sing, dance, say I love you, be a slave, do push-ups ect. It was hilarious. And the dancing, oh the dancing... But soon the end of that class came too. Everyone was saying their thanks and as they left one of the boys stayed behind and handed me a gift. A beautiful, heartfelt, hand-written letter and a bracelet. You guessed it... I could've cried again. 
11:00 am and time for the last class. At this point I was feeling a bit exhausted but after we opened yet another pack of the super sweet candies the sugar pushed me along. We did the circle thing where I read them the letter that I wrote to their class, they loved it. We played "ninja" as well, danced to music and then they also attempted to teach me some Nepali game... unsuccessfully. We talked some more and then at 11:40 am I ended my last class for the last time. It was time for me to bring the football downstairs for them... I had been telling them that I had a surprise but they had no clue what it would be. So at 12, the time we had planned that I would give the gift, they all went to the front of the Pooja room. I wrapped the ball in my mostquito net and a bag so that it would not be 100% obvious that it was a ball and walked down to the meeting spot. The monks excitedly gathered around... then the moment came... I revealed the gift; a brand new, bright orange, real puma football; they went absolutely crazy!!!!! Cheering, laughing, hugging me (woah!) and cheering again. Oh my, it was one of the best moments of my life. Just the fact that something as simple as a football can bring that much joy to them changed a little something inside me...
I had my final Dal Bhat lunch accompanied by a huge bag of aloo (spiced potatoes) which I shared with all the monks. I had bought it the day before when I went to get chowmein (a noodle dish) for the final time. I have had chowmein so many times in Nepal; at a restaurant in Kathmandu, at both of the hotels I've stayed at in Thamel, at a restaurant in Boudha... but the best chowmein I've had is sold at a super, super sketchy shop in Sundarijaal. So sketchy that the shop doesn't even have a name... AND it's only 25 rupees (compared to the 180 rupees at all the restaurants!!!) HELLO! I'll miss it way too much to be acceptable. I'll miss all the Nepali and Indian food actually. Oh dear god..... I am so glad for the cooking lessons Isuda gave!!! AND one of my roommates at NYUAD is Indian!!!! All will be fine. But yes, the food here will be one of the things I'll miss the most. The whole Nepali culture revolves around food. You know how in the west when you're standing around and you want to strike up a conversation or when there's an awkward silence... you usually talk about the weather. Here? Well here we talk about food. "Hey" "hi, nice to see you, how are you?" "good, good" *awkward silence* "......so what did you have for lunch?". Yep. Or when you go to their house and immediately they offer you food, and it's not just a biscuit or something, I mean real home cooked, good food that they are waiting to eat for lunch... ahh... No wonder I gained so much weight here. Yeah, did you know that here in Nepal it is seen as a good thing to have some meat on your bones? It's actually a compliment to be called fat. And oh my God it has been happening way too often at the monastery. A few days ago in class Kalsang goes "Zizi, I have a good news for you, you are fat now".......... ok. And when I was spinning the prayer wheel for the first time "Zizi, don't do too much exercise, you will become thin again!" Oh if only the west was like this... it would save a whole bunch of teenage girls from a whole bunch of tears.
Dinner time came around and the surprise on the faces of all the monks was worth all the money I had put in and more. The evening was followed by thousands of sincere "thank you"s for my efforts of the entire day; the parties, the ball, the momos, I totally spoilt them. It was worth all the money. They gave me so many momos that by the time I couldn't possibly fit another one in my stomach the plate still looked full. Such a memorable last supper. Oh the end was becoming so real... the next morning would be the last time I heard the Pooja, the last time I had rotis, the last time I'd wake up in Sundarijaal for a long while...
