Just Another Day

Spending time in Nepal encourages one to relax about things like schedules and time in general. Things rarely happen at the allotted time and invariably take longer and are more complicated than necessary. This is why most people here live in a different time-space continuum (and I don’t mean the 15 minute difference from Indian time). What I refer to is nationally accepted as ‘Nepali Time’. So you can start to see where the national phrase ‘Ke garné?’ comes from. It means ‘What to do?’ There is a general acceptance that life isn’t as smooth as some people would like it to be and how some expect or demand it to be in the West. I’m not sure where this comes from, but given the present day state of the nation, where there are shortages of almost all the necessary things to make a country run smoothly, it is certainly apt that people have this moniker already ingrained in the national psyche.

‘Load-shedding’ is a way of life for most people – at least in the major cities. Kathmandu, Pokhara and Nepalganj all live with an electricity schedule. It changes seasonally. In the summer during monsoon there is more power as the rain feeds the hydro-power stations, but in the winter, the schedule is even worse, up to 16 hours a day with no electricity. People with money and guest houses and restaurants in tourist areas have inverters or generators but with the current petrol shortage, generator usage becomes more precious and has to be used thoughtfully and sparingly. The petrol shortage has been going on for over a month or so now – queues of people wait hours to get a ration of petrol at the stations, so people are only travelling when necessary. This is also affecting the amount of cooking gas available. Even though electricity is limited, most people in more developed areas cook with large gas canisters (as opposed to rural areas where wood is used for the stoves). However, due to the current petrol shortage, now these are becoming scarce too. This is all tied up with Nepal Oil Company Limited who have a monopoly on petrol and gas in the country and some disagreement about the prices of gas coming from India. To be honest, I don’t have a full understanding of it, and I haven’t sought the details, I just know that life takes on a different perspective when you need to put thought into when you can charge your phone, how much gas it might take to make your evening meal, and if you can spare the petrol to run to the shop.

On top of this, for the ever-expanding population in the Kathmandu valley, water shortages are another daily reality. The massive influx of people into the capital city in recent years has taken its toll and you see queues of plastic or metal water containers at public taps collecting precious drops coming out as a slow trickle.

And then there are the strikes or bandah. On a strike day it basically means that no vehicles are on the road (other than emergency vehicles or tourist buses and a few other exceptions) and schools and businesses are closed, although in tourist areas this is less observed. Technically government offices are open but often the staff cannot get to work so there is no one to open them. Essentially though, all this amounts to an impromptu national holiday. Kids are out of school and playing in the street as there are no cars or motorcycles. People are walking or cycling around and generally hanging out as everyone has the day off. Overall, it is all very pleasant and relaxed and there is no noise pollution from cars or construction work.

What I find most curious about the strikes is the fact that for the most part, the majority of the population have no idea what the strike is about. I would have thought that defies the point, but apparently not. They are often regional and called by different ethnic or political groups wanting their voice to be heard on some issue or other all tied up in the ever-looming ‘new’ constitution, now in its third year of being written. I am assuming that some people, maybe the ones ‘writing’ the constitution are aware of the stand being made by the strike in question, but the general population tend to just accept that there is a strike and that whichever group has called it has their reasons for it and that is enough information to accept that it is a day off.

May is ‘strike season’ as I found out last year when the whole country closed down for eight days when the Maoists called a strike calling for the prime minister to step down – that was a bit more serious, with mass protests and rallies around the country. It was also quite debilitating as after a few days, supplies started running out and the price of goods skyrocketed. This year, so far, it has been much more mellow and the strikes have mainly been one day at a time. So there might be a strike called by one group one day and then the following day, another strike called by a different group in another region or sometimes a national strike. This was one of the major delaying factors for our trip to west Nepal as one day there was a strike in Pokhara, so no transport out, the next day there was a strike in Nepalganj, our destination, so no transport going there and the following day there was a national strike.

What amazes me the most is, in spite of all these difficulties, somehow everything just carries on as normal. After all, it is just another day in Nepal… what to do?

Note:

None of this really applies to places like Jumla or similar remote, rural areas. Here there are very few vehicles so the petrol shortage is barely felt, cooking is done on a wood stove, the electricity is all locally generated from micro hydro-power that supplies local villages (for a few hours in the morning and evening each day) and if there is a strike, the only noticeable effect is schools are closed.