Bango-Tingo

            A week ago today I moved in with my Nepali family here in Kathmandu. It feels like I’ve been living in Samakushi, the name of my neighborhood here, for much much longer. I have become to feel more at home with my family, and as my Nepali improves, my comfort level increases. Each day I learn more and more vocabulary and verb conjugations during our two and a half hours of Nepali class, and each dinner consists of longer conversations in Nepali with family members. Having started from scratch with Nepali a little over a week ago, progress seems to be happening at exponential rates these days.

            There’s a Nepali term for zig-zagging, orderless, and chaotic streets in Kathmandu: “Bango-tingo.” If you were to look at a street map of the city (I always keep mine in my bag, easily accessible – though it is rarely all that helpful), it would not resemble the grid-like structure of most cities in the U.S. There is one large road that encircles the majority of city, called the Ring Road. The entire Ring Road is approximately 25km. My house is located just outside the Ring Road to the North. With the exception of perhaps five major city streets, the majority of roads within the Ring Road do not go North-South or East-West. A road will begin heading north but by the time you’ve reached its end, you’re more than likely to be back to where you started. Not to mention that many of the streets dead-end, which always keeps things interesting. The key to navigating the bango-tingo streets of Kathmandu is to keep in mind the direction in which you’re headed and take smaller, side roads to maintain that direction. It really would be easier if I had a compass. But alas, I neglected to pack one and thus will continue to bush-wack my way through Kathmandu for the next three months.

            I have walked from central Kathmandu out to my house in Samakushi several times over the past week. Each time, without trying, I have taken different routes home. Each time, I am always quite positive I’m following the same route I’ve taken before. But without fail, I either make one wrong turn or walk past the road on which I’m supposed to turn right. And sooner or later, I discover that I’ve made my way to Thamel Marg or Gholupakha, back in central Kathmandu instead of Samakushi, which is to the north of central Kathmandu. It is always quite the adventure, but never a bad one. I imagine that soon I will get the hang of it and discover (and remember) a good, efficient route to and from my house, but in the meantime, I enjoy walking around the city and seeing new parts of it on foot. I have been told that it should take me about an hour to walk from my house to the Program House in Naxal (located nearer to the center of the city). My best time so far has been 1.25 hours. My worst, over 2 hours. I will keep you posted on my progress.

            Because of the inconsistency of the amount of time it takes me to walk between Samakushi and Naxal (and the fact it is still monsoon season and the rains come during the night and linger into the morning), I have resorted to taking the bus most mornings. In order to reach the Program House at 7:45am, I leave my house after a quick breakfast of toast and tea at 7am and walk 5 minutes to the Ring Road to catch the first of two buses. There is a small bazaar located on the Ring Road near the bus stop, with vendors selling all sorts of vegetables and fruit, as well as everything from bangles and combs to exotic birds. As I said before, the monsoon season continues (as I write this there is a major thunderstorm happening), which makes for very muddy streets. Avoiding large puddles and splashes of mud from passing motorbikes and automobiles, I wait for the red and white bus that will take me around the Ring Road to Maharangunj, where I get off and wait for my next bus that takes me into the city to Naxal. The first bus from Samakushi is always crowded. I can hardly make my way onto the bus and have yet to find a seat. The bus is packed with men heading to work for the day. Occasionally there will be women on the bus, but I have yet to see other Westerners. There’s another great Nepali term that means both “crowded” and “full” and can apply to a crowded bus or street or a full stomach: “uukos muukos.” That first bus is always uukos muukos. But fortunately, I am not on it for more than 10 minutes. The second bus is often less crowded and I normally can find a seat. On that portion of the ride, the bus passes by several embassies, including the Chinese, Mexican, and Danish ones. We also go along side the Police Headquarters, which spans several blocks and is also my queue to tell the driver to slow down for my stop. 

Life in Kathmandu is always exciting.

I hope all is well,

Leti.