Children enforce a bandh by deflating a bicyclist's tires.
"Aaja, bandh chha" (today, there is a bandh) is a fairly common phrase these days. "Bandh" is a Nepali word that literally means closed. And this is a fairly literal description of what happens when one group or another calls a bandh. With over 50 ethnic groups, 103 languages and a still prevalent caste system, Nepal as a country has a long history of giving opportunity to a few, and excluding many. At some point, these groups realized that their voices would not be heard by conventional methods of democratic participation. They turned to bandhs as a way of getting what they wanted. For the most part, the bandh has proven to be a successful method of raising awareness about an issue, receiving compensation for an injustice or getting the government to agree to a list of demands. Unfortunately, many groups now view bandhs as the only viable option to achieving their goals.
This is how a bandh typically works. A political party, ethnic group, union or some other type of group with a grievance calls a bandh. Sometimes, these are announced days in advance and sometimes they happen without warning. During a bandh, shop keepers are not supposed to open their businesses and transportation is limited to walking. The organizing group usually employs young men and sometimes even boys to enforce the bandh. They roam the streets, harassing shop keepers who attempt to defy the shutdown and position themselves at major intersections to block any vehicles who venture onto the roads. In recent months, the enforcement of bandhs has become quite strict, and violence is often used as a way of punishing those who attempt to resist these closures. A few weeks ago, a bus, carrying school children, was attacked. Thugs threw rocks, smashing the windshield, while the frightened children attempted to escape. Last week, a surgeon who was on his way to a local hospital was stopped. He tried to reason with the bandh enforcers, attempting to persuade them to let him through so he could perform a surgery that was waiting for him. Instead, they burned his motorcycle. Some bandhs shut down a city for a day, others basically shut down the country for weeks on end. Although bandh perpetrators burn vehicles and basically terrorize innocent civilians, it's rare that anyone is arrested, and in most cases, the organizers gain something from the bandh.
Bandhs have become so commonplace in Nepal that they are now almost a part of the culture. In the current calendar year, there have been 511 bandhs, according to the website www.nepalbandh.com. The demands of these strikes range from requesting the resignation of the President to collecting money for a football trophy. Like so many other inconveniences, Nepali people tend to take these protests in stride, as an annoying but necessary part of life. Having said that, it's beginning to feel like even the most gracious and accommodating of Nepali people have had about all the bandhs they can take. For Heidi and me, these shutdowns are sometimes a welcome break from the noise and craziness of Kathmandu. During a strike, we can actually walk down the street without being assaulted by horns and traffic. However, the increasing frequency of bandhs has been devastating for most Nepalese and for the economy in general. Many people here have to work every day in order to feed their families. Missing several days of work a month due to strikes is seriously jeopardizing their ability to survive. Aid agencies have not been able to deliver supplies which are desperately needed by many rural communities in Nepal- communities that have been devastated by war, famine and now a loss of access because of bandhs. Children cannot regularly attend school. Sick people are prevented from accessing medical facilities. Many bandh organizers claim to be working for the common people, but it is quite clear that the average person is the one who suffers the most from these frequent disruptions.
What will it take for Nepal to move beyond the current bandh culture? It seems two things will need to happen. The people of Nepal will need to create other systems which allow those with grievances to be heard in a meaningful and participatory way. There simply needs to be viable alternatives to the use of bandhs- alternatives which are now non-existent in Nepal. In addition to these alternatives, there will need to be a coordinated effort of resistance. Ordinary citizens, business owners, civil society leaders, government officials and many others will need to join together and non-violently resist the demands of the bandh organizers. This effort needs to include appropriate law enforcement. Although it doesn't appear that bandhs will end anytime soon, it looks like the seeds of a bandh resistance are being planted.
Empty street during a recent bandh.
After I recovered from the landing, I was immediately struck by the beauty that surrounded me. The place around the airport was the only flat surface that could be seen for miles. I was enveloped by lush valleys and giant hills (which would dwarf the "mountains" of PA). Terraced plots were literally carved out of the sides of the hills. I can't imagine the work it took to create them, but I marveled at their beauty. The air was clean and pure, the small village almost eerily quiet. I definitely wasn't in Kathmandu anymore. From the "airport", we planned to walk three hours to the town where we were going to meet with several partner organizations. Just as we started out, the rain returned, and a friendly shopkeeper informed us that we could get a ride on a jeep that would arrive in the next hour or so. We decided to wait and sure enough a Land Rover arrived. After bouncing around for about an hour, a small town materialized out of the fog and rain. We had arrived in Okhaldhunga.
It wouldn't be accurate to say that places like Okhaldhunga have been untouched by modernization. As we walked through the small town, I noticed many groups of people gathered in tea shops watching the news. Like every other place in the world, everyone in Okhaldhunga seemed to have a cell phone. There was Coca Cola and young men wearing Britney Spears t-shirts. The towel that I bought, because I forgot to take one along, was covered in the ubiquitous face of Mickey Mouse. But I could understand why people referred to this as the real Nepal. There was a night and day kind of difference from Kathmandu. I saw very few vehicles, probably mostly due to the difficult terrain. No one seemed to be in a hurry, and everyone seemed to know each other. Some of the differences were hard to describe. A sense of serenity filled the air as I watched children playing with toys they had obviously made themselves. The houses were not surrounded by gates and barking dogs like most of the homes in Kathmandu. This helped to make the people and culture feel more accessible, less isolated. One evening as we walked back to our guesthouse, thousands of stars filled the sky, and I commented on their beauty. Bal Krishna responded saying that you have to be in a dark place to fully appreciate the stars. I think he might be right.
Of course, it would not be fair to idealize places like Okhaldhunga. The geography that makes these places so beautiful also makes life quite difficult. One morning, Bal Krishna and I got up early, planning to walk to the top of a nearby hill to see the sunrise. Unfortunately, the hike was longer than anticipated, and we arrived about a half hour after sunrise. On the way down from the lookout point, we saw a number of porters, carrying huge loads on their backs, headed to even more remote places. They carry these loads, weighing 130-150 pounds, for up to a week. Several of the people we met were quite young, maybe a few years older than my nephews. Working as a porter is the only option for many women and men in remote parts of Nepal, particularly during non-harvest times. There are few economic opportunities for people in these communities, which is why many of them leave their serene villages lives to find work in Kathmandu or India.
Although I enjoyed my time in Okhaldhunga, I quickly realized that I probably would not survive if I had to live in a remote part of Nepal. After two days, I grew tired of eating lentils, rice and vegetables at 9 o'clock every morning and then again in the evening. Of course, there was no filtered or bottled water so I had to drink boiled water, which never seemed to cool down. The showers were so cold that I couldn't stop gasping. After five days, I was ready to get back to crazy Kathmandu, drink a cold bottle of water and have a hot shower (and of course, be with Heidi). On the day before we were supposed to fly home, we headed to the town nearest the airport in the middle of a torrential downpour. It was easily the scariest ride of my life. Several times, we had to back up to gain momentum for the steep climb, and I was sure we were going to back off the side of the road and plunge into the never-ending valley below us. My fear was combined with an uneasiness that was caused by the hand a stranger had decided to rest on my knee. I couldn't tell if he was trying to brace himself, keep me from bouncing around or if he just liked clutching my knee. I decided to go with one of the first two options.
Unfortunately, all of the rain caused our flight to be cancelled. This meant we were stuck with nothing to do but watch the rain and pray for a break in the clouds. I was so bored that I started rereading a book I had just finished. Fortunately, we met up with some friends from Kathmandu who were in the same predicament. We spent the afternoon playing rummy, and when the sky finally cleared, we ventured out for a game of basketball with some local boys. I awoke the next morning to a bright sun and a group doing yoga outside my window. The high hills were once again visible, and I again had to stop and catch my breath as I marveled at the beauty surrounding me.
We almost didn't make it onto our flight. The only plane that was coming to Okhaldhunga that day was from a different airline than the one we had originally scheduled. Bal Krishna managed to secure two seats that are typically reserved for government officials. However, thirty minutes before take-off, a government official showed up to claim one of the seats. At that point, I had given up hope. However, Bal Krishna made some phone calls, and just a few minutes before the flight was going to take off, they confirmed that we had seats. It was an appropriate ending to an adventurous journey. Now I can say that I have experienced the real Nepal.
The town of Okhaldhunga
Random man-powered ferris wheel
Waiting for the rain to end
And I thought the Harrisburg airport was small
Yes, this is the runway
Heidi and I were shocked last Saturday when we heard that a bomb exploded at the Church of the Assumption in our neighborhood here in Kathmandu. It happened just a few minutes after the beginning of Saturday Mass. Three people were killed and thirteen others were injured. A small, fundamentalist Hindu group, called the Nepal Defense Army, has taken responsibility for the bombing. Although reports of violence in Nepal have been increasing in the past few months, for the most part, this violence has not been of a sectarian nature. As small minority religious groups, both Christians and Muslims have faced opposition in Nepal, but this opposition has rarely resulted in violent attacks during worship services. Actually, the most similar event in recent years, the bombing of a mosque, was done by this same group. Many have hoped that the declaration of Nepal as a secular state would result in greater tolerance among different faith groups. Within hours of the bombing, Hindu, Buddhist and Muslim leaders arrived at the church to offer their support.
This latest violent event hit particularly close to home for us. The Catholic church is about a five minute walk from our house. We occasionally attend the Sunday Mass, which is conducted in English. We have heard reports of other bombs being detonated around Kathmandu, but they are usually used as a tactic to draw attention to a particular cause- designed more to scare than to do any lasting damage. This incident was different. It seems that it was intentionally set off near the beginning of the church service, at a time when many people would be in the building. The pressure cooker bomb was filled with nails and other shrapnel; obviously intended to kill and seriously injure people. Personally, we are not sure how to react to this news, and I think we are both surprised by the fact that even though this feels close to home, it hasn't really affected us.
This event reminds us of the fact that, in many parts of the world including our own country, religion is used as a platform to perpetrate acts of hatred and intolerance. One of the partners that MCC supports here in Nepal is the Inter-Religious Council Nepal, a group of religious leaders who are attempting to build bridges between the different faith communities. It's encouraging to know that although there are those who use religion to destroy, there are many more who are using their religious values to create, build and sustain.
