The Nepalis Call Them Hills, I Call Them Mountains

This past week I travelled to Simikot in the remote northwestern corner of Nepal to give a presentation at a journalism training program the Embassy sponsored. To get there required a flight to and an overnight stay in Nepalgunj, which is Nepali for "Land of Many Mosquitoes." Early the next morning (exact flight times are rarely known in advance) I flew in a 12-person plane that was at least 50 years old, based on the upholstery of the seats. It had an open cockpit, which I hate because I don't want to see what's going on in there, especially when we're about to take off and the pilot - I kid you not - attaches a Garmin device to the plane's dashboard.

Simikot is an isolated village in Humla, one of the most remote districts in Nepal.

Nepal is a small country, but it's geography is extreme. Within 45 minutes we had travelled from the lowlands in the south (500 ft above sea level) and through the hills toward the Himalayas. We flew pretty close over the hilltops and I could see the imposing Himalayas ahead (through the stupid open cockpit). I kept wondering when the pilot was going to go higher, but just as I was about to panic, he banked left and I could see Simikot sitting on a small plateau at 10,000 feet above sea level.

One of many such towers built to scare off evil spirits

Simikot is very remote and isolated. About 90% of everything the people consume and use has to be flown in from the outside. There are no cars, motorcycles, or bicycles. Although most inhabitants are Buddhists, Simikot looks like any other Nepali Hindu village. Polyandry (one wife with multiple husbands) is still practiced in a handful of villages in Humla, but it's dying out. Lots of Indian tourists pass through Simikot on their way to Mt. Kailash in China, the supposed resting place of Lord Shiva. It seems odd to me that a Hindu god would head north to China to die, but there it is.

One of the most prevalent castes in Simikot is the Lamas; not only an ethnic group, it's also a vocation (as in the Dalai Lama). On my second morning a guide took me for a hike outside of Simikot. She explained that the people erect a series of rock towers at the edge of the villages to keep out the bad spirits. Stones with Tibetan scriptures written on them are added to the towers for extra luck.

During the hike, my guide invited me to her sister's house for some Tibetan tea. Preparing Tibetan tea is quite complicated and the end result tastes like cream of butter soup. 

Inside the kitchen of a Lama household

It was a wonderful and informative morning. I learned a lot about how people live in the hills (I wasn't technically in the Himalayas, even though we were surrounded by snow-capped peaks). While I truly enjoyed the visit, I think living there would be difficult and, frankly, tedious. I admire the people who live there and make it work.

The Pouch Trolls Strike Again

There are many things about living overseas that can be annoying. But a good FSO is prepared to handle life without a daily dose of Starbucks or first-run American sitcoms. Living in a developing country poses even more challenges, like bird flu and pollution. But this is the profession I chose and I have learned to live with the obstacles of living overseas.

What angers me the most is when the State Department, the United States government, lets us down. You would think after all these years of sending diplomats overseas, that the DOS would have it figured out by now. Think again.

Yes, the pouch trolls in Dulles have screwed me over again. I ordered some things for my bathroom to try to deflect attention from the tacky tile that covers the entire bathroom.* The towels and bath mat arrived just fine. But the soap dispenser and cup, shipped separately, were refused by Dulles. What part of the FAM did I violate by shipping small bathroom accessories? Which diplomatic security regulation did I jeopardize?

I've heard that Missions that still use the pouch in Dulles for personal mail (and don't have APO) will be converted to FPO. This change can't come soon enough. Down with Dulles!!! (The mail facility, not the town itself.)

*What is it about homes in foreign countries and their bathrooms with bold color schemes? Even if a home is tastefully done in soft tones and wood floors, but there is always one bathroom with garish mauve tile.

What Time is it in Your Office?

You're planning a major event. With two weeks to go until the big day, you meet with the local nationals who are helping organize the event to discuss a few critical details that need to be worked out. You walk away from the meeting with an understanding of what needs to be accomplished.

What you're thinking: We need to get moving on this, there are only 2 weeks left!

What they're thinking: We're in good shape, we still have 2 weeks left.

Americans seem to have a different perception of time than the rest of the world. I have an app on my iPad that shows me what time it is in six different locations. What I need is an app that converts American time perceptions into Nepali time perceptions and vice versa. I'd pay good money for that.

Child-proofed for Your Safety

Our embassy provides each employee's residence with a large tin box filled with emergency supplies. It's usually stored in a shed, outside of the residence itself. Nepal is regarded as a high-risk country for earthquakes - a land-locked Haiti with only one airport capable of accommodating large military airplanes (by the way, a recent study showed that the runways at that airport would probably crack and be rendered useless in the event of a major earthquake).

So if a major disaster strikes Nepal, it's likely that we will need to access our emergency supplies. Some time ago I tried to open my emergency kit to check that I have everything I'm supposed to have and nothing is expired. But it had been secured with a plastic tie so I went back into the house to find a sharp cutting implement to cut the plastic tie. Recently I discovered that a new plastic tie had been put on.

I pointed this out to the officer in charge of the emergency kits and suggested that it might make sense to allow easy access to the emergency kit so that if an earthquake hits, I don't have to go into my house, which might not be stable, and find a pair of scissors to cut off the plastic tie. In response, I was told that the emergency kit is secured with a plastic tie because some employees might be tempted to take something from the kit (i.e. toilet paper) and not replace it.

What the what?

This is the same rationale that forces me to locate and use manicure scissors whenever I need to open a new bottle of Excedrin. Normally that's not a big hassle. Except when I wake up at 3:00 in the morning with a raging migraine. All because 30 years ago somebody's toddler ate a bunch of pain pills thinking they were candy.

Using my diplomatic skills to cover up my snarky inclinations, I observed that the point of the emergency kit is to provide necessary supplies to the employee in the event of a disaster, and by hindering access to the kit, we are negating the point of having it. He suggested that I buy a sharp cutting implement and keep it nearby the emergency kit, but keep it hidden so that I wouldn't be tempted to "steal" the toilet paper.

At this point I lost the strength to continue along this line of reasoning.

I would like to be treated as a responsible adult, not a pill-popping toddler.