Arinshrestha
Manamaiju, Kathmandu, Tuesday, October 6th, 2015
Two-year-old Arinshrestha helps her mother Asmi build their new house.
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Bua
Manamaiju, Kathmandu, Saturday, October 3rd, 2015
The house where I first met the Maharjans was a beautiful three-story home. The front entry, like many in Manamaiju, was two wooden doors set like a cabinet. The doorway itself was small, so I'd learned to duck a bit as I entered. Inside, stairs carved from thick pieces of wood lead to the second floor, and then on to the third.
The family room was on the second floor, and had at least two windows with ornate wooden frames that looked out onto the courtyard below. It was up to these windows I would jokingly call "Oh, fupu!" [Are you there sister-of-father?] when I wanted to see if anyone was home.
I believe* that the building’s walls were brick—a little over a foot thick—with large pieces of bamboo used for the floors; the walls may have been insulated with straw. When you were inside, you felt both warm and in a place of quiet. The exterior walls of the house sealed with layers of clay-mud which sunbaked to a smooth, warm caramel.
This is the house where ama [mother] and bua [father] raised their six beautiful children—four daughters and two sons.
The house was destroyed in the April 25th earthquake, and now the family resides about ten meters away in a new house that is gradually being built from red brick and concrete. Only five months since, I am happy to hear so much laughter and see again their smiling faces. The three grandchildren play with each other, the two elder boys taking care of the youngest, Arpita, who is just three.
The shell of the old house remains, some of the walls still holding fast to contain the mass of rubble inside. [Edit: I looked at the house again today, and I think it is actually a neighboring house. I now think that their old house is totally gone. –Jack, 10.08.2015]
I'm not sure that houses like this will ever be built again here, but in the end it did the best job possible—it kept this wonderful family safe, and I am so grateful it did.
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* the exact structure of the house is a bit of supposition on my part.
The remains of a house that stood right next to their old house.
Celebrating the end of exams
Baundeshwor waterfall, Jhor Mahankal, Kathmandu, Monday, September 5th, 2015
Third-year students from the Shankarapur Academy celebrate the end of their exams.
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Samira
Phutung, Kathmandu, Monday, October 5th, 2015
On the long walk back from Baundeshwor waterfall, I saw Samira sitting in front of a shop and we joked back and forth.
“Mah teemro photo kitchu?” I ask her.
[Would you like your photo taken?]
She smiles widely and nods.
After taking the photo, I squat down with my notebook and ask
“Tapai ko naam ke ho?”
[What is your name?]
As I start writing it down, I confirm with her
“Sarmila?”
“Samira!” she corrects me, and then spells it out for me as I write it down. I laugh.
You tell 'em, Samira!
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Sarmila and Binisha
Phutung, Kathmandu, Saturday, September 26th, 2015
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Imose emerges from a field of rice
Dadagaun, Kathmandu, Saturday, September 26th, 2015
I was watching two children work together to launch a kite, when I heard voices in the nearby field of rice. Although I couldn't see anyone, stalks of rice were moving about. As I walked over, Imose emerged from the rice, playing with his scarf. His friend followed a minute later.
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Imose’s friend emerges moments later.
Indramaya receives a tika from her mother
Manamaiju, Kathmandu, 2002
I met Indramaya and her family when we bumped into each other on a path. They were returning from farming on a piece of their land, and they invited me to their house for tea.
Indraymaya’s family is very sweet and welcoming, and it is they that I most think of when I think of Manamaiju.
Indramaya’s bahini [younger sister] Sushmita is sitting next to her.
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An old photo of Indramaya’s father and mother on the wall of the family home.
Sarada and Nirmala
Niharika Shishu Kunja High School, Balaju Bypass, Kathmandu, Tuesday, September 29th, 2015
Sarada teaches the Nursury class at Niharika, while Nirmala moves from class to class as needed. I was talking to them about taking their photo together, but they needed a little convincing.
I really like the smiles in the candid "convincing" shot that I got (above).
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Sarada and Nirmala
Four friends
Phutung, Kathmandu, Saturday, September 26th, 2015
A stone’s throw from Phutung’s Nag Pokhari, four friends—Dipesh, Bimochan, Saroj, and Rohan—are taking turns playing table tennis on a large concrete table. A line of bricks (of which there are plenty about) serves as their net.
As I arrive, Bimochan has hit the ball over the fence and is climbing back from getting it. He pokes his leg on the top of the fence, so decides to get back by instead climbing on the low concrete roof of a neighboring building.
“Do you want to play table tennis?” –Dipesh
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Anish with her hajurama
Manamaiju, Kathmandu, Saturday, September 26th, 2015
Outside of Sabina’s house, I ran into Anish with her hajurama [grandmother] Gunmaya.
I think Anish wasn't quite sure what to make of me.
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