Sumitra
Betrawati, November 2002
I believe the corrugated metal behind Sumitra is a tiny booth that sells wristwatches; closed and locked for the day.
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Sabina, Pundewoti and Bibek
Betrawati, November 2002
I love Bibek’s expression in this photo.
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Three friends
Balaju Bypass, Kathmandu 2002
Jyoti, Anu, and another friend take a rest on a pile of bricks.
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Projectionists at the Nagarjun theater
Balaju, Kathmandu 2002 or 2004
Projectionists at the old Nagarjun theater. I believe that my getting to the projection booth required climbing up a metal ladder from a roof area.
I have since been told that this theater closed sometime in 2006.
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Another projectionist in the same booth on a different day.
Unfortunately, I misplaced wherever I wrote down the projectionists names.
Excerpt from a postcard written on September 28th, 2000:
“So it’s 11:45am, I have nothing I have to do in Betrawati today, so I say “I think I’ll go catch the last half of that movie with Barsha and Santosh”. Binod decides to join me (or escort me—I don’t think Sajani wants me going many places by myself because of the Maoist situation) so we walk the remaining 2km, I buy two 20-rupee rickets (about 30 cents each), and in we go.
It’s already about forty-five minutes into the film so it must be half over, I think. We take our seats and the next few scenes are very much like a ’60s beach movie—Monkee-esqe hijinks and a few musical dance numbers. The name of the movie is Dharmaputra and it stars a man named Raj Hamal who seems to be in every Nepali movie. As far as I can tell, Raj Hamal’s trademark is the bleeding eye—any poster you see with him in a fighting pose, he has the “Raj Hamal Bleeding Eye” going in full effect.
So, I’m in this darkened theater, Raj Hamal has been beaten up by three thugs and lays unconscious. But what’s this? Now the three thugs are going to beat up the very woman that hired them? She screams. Raj Hamal is still out. A few more screams and then Raj Hamal awakens and jumps up, fists at the ready. Every child in the place erupts with cheering and clapping, and for a moment there in the dark, it’s a Saturday afternoon in the 1940s and I’m watching a serial with all the kids from the neighborhood.”
Below: Looking out a broken window from the second floor of the Nagarjun theater.
Ishori
Betrawati, November 2002
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The students of my fourth-level class
Betrawati 2000
I took these photos at the end of class on my last day at Uttargaya Secondary English Boarding School.
I taught English in second-, fourth-, and fifth-level (grade) classes. The fourth-levelers could be a rambunctious bunch. The classroom had two rows of shared bench-desks with a thin aisle separating them. I recall that often one side of the class would get especially noisy and I'd spend a few moments calming them down, only to have the other side rise up and become boisterous while my attention was turned.
They certainly kept me on my toes, and it was a pleasure to work with them.
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The following text is from a postcard I wrote that mentions Bibek, one of my fourth-levelers
(he's in the top photo, on the right in the front row, holding up a peace sign).
“Last night after dinner I walked up and down our “street” for a nice after-dinner stroll. Passing by one of our neighbors I was called by Shabnam so I went over and shook her hand. Then some of her family came out and wanted to see me dance — not for it’s technical merits believe you me. I said that I’d need some music so they all started singing this beautiful Nepali dancing song.
I love that even kids in my school nursery class know this song and that you never hear a Nepali person say “No, I’ve got a horrible voice...” and that singing is so much a part of the culture — kids don’t laugh at other kids singing — it’s just like a different way of speaking.
A man from their family who is unable to speak came out and danced with me, then an elderly neighbor did some Indian dancing, Bibek (one of my fourth-levelers) sang and danced, and finally Shabnam did some dancing as well.”
—Tuesday, October 24th 2000
The next two photos show more students, at the end of the school-day, on the road below the school. My bahini Barsha can be seen on the left.
Ashmita, Aman and Swostika
Manamaiju, Kathmandu 2011
Ashmita stands with her brother Aman and her friend Ashta’s daughter Swostika.
On this day, Ashmita and her family were taking dung from the family cow in baskets to spread onto their fields. Ashta (not pictured) and Swostika I think just happened to stop by for a visit.
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Somya tries out the drums
Kathmandu, May 21st, 2011
At the Niharika Shishu Kunja High School dance exhibition,
Somya, a son of one of the teachers, tries his hand at the drums.
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Mother and daughter
Betrawati, May 23rd, 2005
Ramkumari on the front porch of her house.
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Ramkumari’s daughter Santoshi.
Children playing with rice stalks
Betrawati 2000
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