All things Jumli

Coming back to Jumla, I knew what to expect in many ways in terms of scenery, the people and the types of living conditions and environment I would be in. However, I hadn’t anticipated how profoundly I would be affected by it all. Coming last year, volunteering on the EWN training course, changed my life. It inspired a whole other journey that I wasn’t even searching for. I was so moved by the women, so intrigued by the culture, so curious about the daily existence that I decided to make a film. So I should have known that there was something here, something magical about Jumla for me.

This is a different world. It is almost another time. Life really is much simpler as it is necessities that are focused on. Again, I have had to question so much about the wasteful, indulgent society I have come from and been forced to look at my own life and behaviour. It is humbling. And at times, incredibly entertaining as what is normal here often seems anomalous to me.

I think it is a combination of the warmth of the people and the simplicity of living that make me appreciate my time here. Accommodation is pretty basic. There is no hot water unless someone boils it on the stove for you so you can have a bucket shower. Usually a little way from the house (so not ideal in the middle of the night), there is a small hut with a squat toilet and a bucket of dusty water and jug, so I appreciate that the amenities are not suited to everyone’s taste. But you adjust, surprisingly quickly. And it is the cultural differences, the little things I learn every day, that make it so interesting. For example, one shouldn’t cross in front of someone sitting down, so you must walk behind, or excuse yourself as you walk in front of them. In small, crowded kitchens this can seem a little convoluted as people climb behind people to get out of the room.

I spent a week in Urthu-Chautara, the village where we had the training. I already knew many women there, as they were my students last year. Over the week, I have become closer to the family who run the guest house – and that will be our base when we return to shoot. Their kitchen is a local focal point and hours are spent sitting around the wood stove before and after dinner. Rakshi is the local spirit made from grain – millet, wheat, barley or a combination. It is custom to drink before eating dinner, but you can snack while you drink, roti with fried meat or some spinach. It is usually only the men that drink and it is also custom for a wife to wait for her husband to eat dinner before she eats, so she won’t eat her dal bhat until he is finished drinking. These rules don’t exactly apply to me, I can drink with the men, and eat before I finish my rakshi. You drink from metal cups that you can warm on the stove, but I came down one night to discover a variation, fried rakshi! Rice, garlic and ghee are fried and then the rakshi is added until it is warm. This was a new experience and unsurprisingly quite oily on the lips, but it went down well and I enjoyed crunching on the toasted rice and burnt garlic.

After the training was finished, I set out with my production manager, Soraj, to see some other villages that we might feature in the film and talk to some of the women from last year’s training. It is a 1-2 hour walk to town depending on if you are a local or me and I have been most entertained by the fact that every other person we pass on the path seems to be clutching a chicken.

The first three pictures were all taken within an hour on the same walk.

From Jumla Bazaar we were to take a bus to Tatopani. I hadn’t even realised that there were buses here. The road going to Urthu, the other direction, sees only the occasional motorcycle, tractor or donkey. But lo and behold, we went through town and ended up at the bus park. The buses go every hour and we arrived just in time for the last bus so there was a hubbub of people milling around outside the bus and it looked more than full already. Soraj took control while I stood there half-smiling at all the staring faces. There was a general commotion for a bit which I took to understand was debate on giving the foreigner a seat and I have to admit that I was happy to be given special treatment as I can’t actually stand up on the bus as the ceiling is so low. Once given the go-ahead, I was ushered on to the bus and somehow managed to squeeze my way through the mass of people to the very back where two (I’m assuming recently vacated) seats were waiting.

Even seated, it wasn’t the most comfy journey I have ever taken. Aside from the fact that my legs didn’t fit behind the seat in front, being at the back on this very rough road meant lots of bouncing about, but the hour journey passed pleasantly enough with me attempting to practice my Nepali. Although I can now say a few things here and there, I rarely understand anything people say back to me. Everyone is always very intrigued to talk to me though, the women, often painfully shy and embarrassed, the men more openly curious. Few foreigners come to these places and if they do they are usually NGO workers.

Throughout my time everywhere I went, it is such a spectacle that life stops as I pass, people frozen in the midst of their daily chores to stare and often a procession of children following us so I end up feeling a bit like the pied piper.

There is no internet and limited phone service in most places outside of Jumla Bazaar. A lot of people have solar panels (subsidised by the government) to power lights. Some villages have micro hydro-power stations which provide electricity for a few hours each day. This is one of the major considerations we have about shooting and how much storage space we will have for our footage.

In Patmara, one of the villages we visited, a good 2-3 hour walk from the nearest shop, 180 houses get electricity for a few hours each morning and evening from their hydro-power station. It's a very local affair and villagers can request that the operator leave the power on for special occasions, medical reasons, or construction work. Our arrival fell into the first category so we had electricity into the night, recharging mobiles, cameras and my laptop. What a luxury!

You can see the pipe coming down the hill into the power station generating enough electricity to power the whole village for roughly 10 hours a day.

And on top of that, what they also have here, which is quite bizarre, is satellite television. I haven't even laid eyes on a TV since I arrived in Jumla let alone actually watched one, and last night when we arrived, we were just in time for me to watch Obama's speech at Westminster Palace on BBC World. Live! After a fairly strenuous uphill climb to this little village nestled on the mountainside, staying in a traditional house made of mud, stone and bamboo with low ceilings (think a little of Yoda's house in Empire Strikes Back), I suddenly found myself watching political rhetoric on the 'special relationship' between the US and UK. How surreal is that?