Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Cultural Differences Abroad

Namaste! I have just returned from my 18 day excursion to the cities and hills of Nepal. I traveled abroad with Making Lives Better (MLB), a group of Rollins students dedicated to helping those in need. We teamed up with Sagamartha Health Foundation (SHF), an NGO that is made up of Nepali doctors who develop health camps throughout the country to those who are unable to afford medical treatment.

I have decided to break up the description of my adventures into a few parts, the first of which I will focus on cultural differences that were occurring during all of the action. These culture shocks are based on my own experiences in Kathmandu, Doti, Chitwan, Pokhara, and the many stops in between.

FOOD
I am always a little nervous traveling abroad as a vegetarian. Sometimes, you get very lucky and don't have to sacrifice any nutritional value to adapt to what is available. And sometimes, you eat a lot of rice.

While there is a wide variety of food available in many of the tourist areas, ranging from Indian to Italian, the countryside of Nepal is much more limited. In Kathmandu, I enjoyed veggie curry with naan and lassis aside every meal. I even lucked out with some Thai curry or alu paratha, and toast was always a treat for breakfast. Still, even with many restaurants catering to vegetarians, or shaka haaris, my protein intake suffered. I only found one restaurant offering tofu which was two days before I left, and I gobbled up an entire plate with chapatha.

Unfortunately, I did make the mistake of trying a traditional Nepali food, that, while being delicious, also happened to be meat. After sticking it in my mouth, I realized my mistake, but felt I couldn't simply spit it out with everyone watching me....

What is also traditional is eating with your hands. I attempted this in Kathmandu and epicly failed. I ate thali, which means "plate," that dal bhat (rice with dal) is served on with pickle and other items. The other traditional food that saved our taste buds was momos, or Nepali dumplings. We were constantly wishing we had mo' momos, and ordered them until we were sick.

In Doti and many other places that serve only traditional food, I was guaranteed two things every meal: dal bhat. Masu, or meat, is often offered in two dishes to be eaten with the dal bhat. (By the way, for you masu eaters: the Nepalese use as much of the animal as they can, so you will often find more bones on your plate than actual meat. Yum.)

Typically, there was another vegetable dish to also eat with dal bhat, so somedays I could devour cauliflower or peppers as well. While it was delicious, my fruit and protein barometer were going berserk. We were advised to eat nothing that was uncooked, and I stayed away from most dairy products and fruit until giving in during the last week. It also became rather redundant, so I found myself having to "carb my enthusiasm" to the endless supply of rice. What also didn't help was that ever since I was a kid, I have always finished every grain of rice on my plate due to a Chinese saying that suggests for every grain left, it will be a pockmark on your future spouse's face.

I only got sick once during the trip, after eating a fried dough delicacy in Doti that the teachers had prepared for all of us. It was something like a churro, only perhaps more deep fried. We were also very amicably served light bread fried in oil that we were told was very labor intensive but did not make our taste buds or stomaches very happy.

After my first day in Kathmandu experiencing terrible coffee at what was supposed to be a great restaurant, I avoided the beverage altogether until my last day. For an avid coffee drinker, this was rather distressing simply because I love the taste of it. I did have delicious masala tea throughout Doti, but drank too much with my Nepali "churro" and avoided it for the remainder.

What was also a huge change for me was that I did not have dessert. Ever. With the exception of the first night, we were typically too full from dinner or weary of dairy products/fruit that we never ate anything sweet. I think this lack of empty calories compensated for the huge portions we ate throughout the day.

Needless to say, as soon as I stepped off the plane in America, I gave in to purchasing a cup of coffee and banana from the nearest Starbucks in the airport, and somehow, it was one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten. In the past 24 hours, I have done nothing but eat fruit and ice-cream to my heart's content.

TIME
One of the greatest adjustments for us Americans was the cultural difference of time and punctuality. Having just been to Costa Rica and exposed to "Tico Time," I didn't feel a huge culture shock upon discovering that dinner at 7p.m. usually means leaving at 7:30p.m. and perhaps making it to the restaurant by 8p.m. and eating by 9p.m.

I'd like to think that I typically arrive on time or just "fashionably" late by 10 or 15 minutes max, but it didn't really bother me that our schedule was constantly changing and falling farther and farther behind. I knew it would be a waste of energy getting angry at whomever was "holding up" the events, and that if we showed up "on time," no one else would be prepared.

An example of this was a ceremony we attended where we handed out backpacks to students. While we were supposed to arrive at 9:30 in order to unload the supplies and begin the speeches by 10, some members of our group went to a temple and didn't arrive back at our hotel until 10. There was some frustration among those waiting that we were being very rude and holding up the ceremony. The reality was that had we showed up at 9:30, no one would have been at the school to welcome us and we would have waited until 11 or so for the ceremony to even begin! So while punctuality may be different than I'm accustomed to, eventually things get done, so you might as well enjoy the views of the mountains or pet some goats instead of worrying.

TOILETS/SANITATION
Ok. So. How does one even write about this subject? How do I begin to describe my experiences with the "toilets" of Nepal?

Traditionally, "toilets" are just holes in the ground. Porcelain holes in the ground. There is a lack of toilet paper and typically a small faucet with which to wash your hands a few inches above the ground. Sometimes there was a bucket under this faucet, but a lot of time the water would just go onto the floor and toward a drainage hole on the opposite side of the bathroom shack. So, when you walk in to use the hole and the floor is wet, you can only guess what you're walking in.

This also becomes a huge issue with sanitation, and a reason it is very rude to eat/pass anything with your left hand. Washing hands is highly encouraged, but when this is unavailable, many children become sick. Also, in Doti, many children don't even have access to "toilets" and just use public areas. I witnessed many people urinating in public in Kathmandu (a good reason to avoid any puddles you can). Many problems form as a result of this.

In all honesty, I would have preferred just using my natural, earthy surroundings to these "bathrooms." Think of the worst toilet at a gas station that you refused to use, and you get a close picture of the public restrooms. Luckily, for many of my hotel experiences, there was an actual standing toilet I was blessed with to use.

Unfortunately, some of the "showers" were just faucets a few feet higher and to the left of the toilet and on the same ground. Shower shoes were a necessity, to say the least.

LANGUAGE/CUSTOMS/HAGGLING
What was perhaps the most frustrating part of the trip was the language barrier. Whenever I travel abroad, I have at least somewhat of a grasp on the language where I can communicate many of my thoughts and have conversations with others. This was not the case in Nepal. I attempted to teach myself a few phrases before we left, and picked up some slang from my good friends who were constantly whispering come-backs to shout at each other.

We had to rely on our native friends for translation, who also happened to be the ones in charge of all of the events. What was frustrating for us must have been hell for them, as we kept pestering them to say something in addition to planning and organizing everything.

I did find that everyone reacted with such surprise and joy when I spoke simple Nepali. I would meet someone and say, "Miro naam Emily ho. Ma khushee laigyo" (My name is Emily, I am happy/nice to meet you) and their eyes would widen and they would repeat what I said with laughter. Even when my grammar was off and I mispronounced easy phrases, everyone greatly appreciated my attempts.

Some cultural customs that I picked up on include nodding your head left to right instead of up and down. Also, when you hand someone anything, you use your right hand and place your left hand near your right elbow so your left arm is folded across your chest. This is considered polite, and many of the venders in touristy areas were shocked when I did these things.

In Thamel, the tourist shopping center, streets are lined with venders all selling the same things. They traditionally try their hardest to rip off tourists, and with exchange rates and other things, it usually works. The first pair of pants I bought I overpaid by 5x and learned my lesson. I am typically terrible at haggling and always want to pay more than I should. After hearing how often tourists are ripped off though, I became adamant about bargaining.

Tips on haggling: walk in and act as if you're somewhat interested in something. Let's say it's a shawl. Then ask "Kati ho?" or "How much?" Perhaps they will reply "500 rubees." From that you shake your head and say "No. Mahango (expensive). 250 rubees." (We were told that whatever they said the price was, divide by two).

They will then reply, "What! This is typical Nepali price. Because we are friends, though, I will give it for 400. This is good." Respond with, "Nope. I can get it down the street for 250 rubees." When they say, "Ok, 300," you then proceed to leave and say, "Nope, I will go down the street." Usually, they will yell, "Ok! Fine! 250!" If not, walk two feet down to the next vender with the same exact item.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

No matter how much you prepare for reality, it really doesn't prepare for you: Adventures in Monteverde, Costa Rica


Three weeks ago, my mom announced that we were going to Costa Rica. I have become accustomed to making elaborate plans that never follow through (such as backpacking in Peru, driving up to Virginia, skiing in Colorado,
etc.) due to one circumstance or another. Such was my expectation when my mom began to discuss the possibility of going to Costa Rica this summer. I went last year with Rollins College to study ecotourism for two weeks and fell in love with the area and new friends. I honestly disregarded most of the conversations about CR as nothing more than dreams that might come true in a year or two.

I was utterly spectacularly, and wonderfully wrong.

We needed to get out of Central Florida. It had been two months since I had moved back home from college for the summer and a stressful situation had been pushing both of our buttons.

Before I knew it, my mom had bought two tickets (flying stand-by thanks to our dear pilot friend, Jeff) to Liberia and I had two days to plan out a 14 day vacation with a budget under $1000 (excluding airfare). I have been blessed with a mother who has always researched hotels or transportation for me, guaranteeing the best bang for the buck. Until now. This time, she handed the responsibility off to me, as an opportunity to "learn." I hated it. I was stressed and frustrated when I discovered unexpected fees (e.g. exit tax costs $26 per person) or mutually exclusive tours due to financial or time constraints.

Some people can travel on the whims of their hats, doing no research and going with the flow.

I am not one of those people.

I have to research all activities possible, then find out who provides them, when they occur, how much it costs, and then read reviews on all the aforementioned. Unfortunately, this means I also get very overwhelmed and irritated when plans are suddenly changed. I'm working on it.

Still, besides my need to control everything, we somehow slid into Costa Rica and into "Tico time" (seriously, we didn't even have a watch: all we had was a bulky alarm clock we bought that stayed in our hotel room). We went without a computer (most of the time) or telephones and absolutely no television (even with FIFA going on!).

We stayed the majority of the time in Monteverde, a secluded area in the mountains that was first established in the 1950s by Quakers. During the Korean War, a group of Quakers decided to leave the U.S. in protest and settled in Monteverde (after all, Costa Rica had abolished their army in the 1940s, so this seemed like paradise--and it is). They created a Quaker school and Cheese Factory. Now, the area is mainly run by the 'Ticos', as Costa Ricans refer to themselves.

Here are some important differences between Monteverde and FL:
1) Warm running water is a blessing
2) There is absolutely no edible bread (that we found at least)
3) Because of tourism, all food prices are inflated to the equivalent of Hawaii--ouch!
4) Even though this area is surrounded by coffee plantations, it is almost impossible to get a good cup of coffee.
5) There are no paved roads going through the mountains and buses at 60mph will just barely miss grazing your arm as you shimmy 4 feet away from the edge of a mountain
6) There are dogs roaming the streets everywhere and they are the sweetest dogs you will ever meet
7) Monkeys will tap on your hotel window as a lovely morning call
8) Roosters next door will cry out at all hours thinking they're performing a proper wake up call even when it's 4am or 2pm
9) There are no traffic signs or lights and if they exist, they are politely ignored
10) It is home to some of the kindest people in the world

It is basically impossible to express everything we did and gained from our experience in Monteverde without turning it into a novel. We ziplined, hiked through rain forests, made it to two waterfalls, drove 5 hours to the beach only to turn around the next day and drive 5 hours back to Monteverde and not even touch the ocean due to rain, danced with hummingbirds, pretended to be matadors, learned more about coffee than we thought possible, devoured fresh fruit and lots of ice-cream, crossed a giant lake in a metal boat during a lightening storm, and soaked in natural hot springs.

Out of everything we did during this trip, the most breathtaking thing was not the mountains or waterfalls (don't get me wrong, they were pretty darn amazing), but the kindness of strangers. We met wonderful new friends who--many despite the language barrier--did everything they could to help us and learn about who we actually are. Instead of just taking money for food or hotel costs, they befriended us. I played with my new 5-year old friend, Masimo, while my mom talked to his parents at the restaurant they owned. Our hotel owner, Yolanda, traveled with us to hot springs and taught me how to dance (a little, I'm working on it). Mercedes, the chef at our hotel, joked around and shared coffee with us while telling stories. Many from Quaker meeting offered advice on moving out there and generally wanted to experience who we were before we left. Alejandro, our coffee tour guide, invited us into his home and turned a 2 hour-tour into a 5-hour one because we enjoyed each other's company so much. Heymer, a barista at a coffee shop, chatted with us even with the World Cup match blasting in the background and tempting our attention.

One man, in particular, changed my view on past situations and how to think about the future. His name is Diederik Wolsak, and he is in charge of the Attitudinal Healing Center in Nueva Arenal. We got to experience a wonderful circle session with him and many of his students. You can learn more about what he's doing here http://www.choose-again.com/ and see an interesting youtube interview with him here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBtCevrGBvo I have his book and it continuously surprises me how much I am learning from him and about my spirituality.

There is so much more to write about this trip. I'm doing the whole experience a complete injustice by leaving this entry here, but more is to come soon!




Introduction

For 17 years of my life, I hated traveling. I loved going to familiar places where I knew the area and what it offered, but the idea of going to a foreign place, knowing no one, and having to explore really frightened me. I would embrace annual visits to Honolulu to hang out with family friends my grandparents' age, but I hesitated when offered the chance to go to France for two weeks with my peers. I was uneasy about traveling to Costa Rica with a group of strangers to do analysis on ecotourism. If someone mentioned they had gone to Europe or South America, I turned green with envy, yet when I actually had the opportunity to go my stomach got queasy. I realized two years ago that I had a calling to help people, yet I still didn't want to jump in to their situation. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable sleeping on a floor or only eating beans and rice for every meal or not showering for a week, but I was uncomfortable having to present myself in front of others for the first time.

It wasn't until a few months ago that I got smacked in the face with opportunity and welcoming by complete strangers. It suddenly clicked that there was nothing to be afraid of; all those movies like "Hostel" or any fear I had of people or interpretations melted away. It just stopped making sense to be scared of, well, nothing.

Recently, a friend of mine suggested that I record my travels for friends so they know about my adventures abroad. Especially because I will be gone for four months traveling to 13 different countries in the spring, this began to make sense. I hope that in addition to this, somehow my experiences can inspire someone else to take a leap and embrace the world.

This blog will not only include travels to Costa Rica, Thailand, Hawaii, etc., but also to places that have changed me and that I think everyone should visit, such as a nearby restaurant or small park right here in Florida. While destinations that are exotic do have the reputation of being spiritually inspirational, it always amazes me how the smallest miracles can exist right in our own backyard (even mine which is overrun by compost and cats).