Ohana Means Family

Hey, it's been a while.

Ah, it's all my fault. I should keep updating but honestly I am a perfectionist procrastinator--the deadliest combination. I wait until the last possible minute to complete something, but even then it needs to be perfect, so I end up hurting myself in the end, stressing to get it completed to my satisfaction before the deadline.

But now that my mom's home from the hospital and done with all her antibiotics, it's due time for me to make the much-needed post about family.



Ohana is the perfect word to describe how family works. Most of y'all have probably heard of it from Lilo & Stitch. Ohana encompasses your nuclear family, blood-relations, and those you've added along the way, formal ties or not. It represents a bond between the members, in which unity, cooperation, and remembrance are stressed.

Coming here, I realize now how empty my life has been. Here, there's everybody. Grandparents. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. Brothers and sisters. Friends. Memories.

Back in the US, I would constantly be trying to fill a hole in my heart that I never knew was there. Every friend I made, I would call them my sister, or my brother (especially my brother), trying to make sense of this loss I was experiencing that I didn't know of.

Gods, I've wanted an older brother for so long. I didn't even know why. Always, I would lament the fact that I had no older brother, no one to care for me or protect me or tease me or help me as I grew older. No one to look up to or prank or rely on. Every time I saw a younger sister-older brother pair, I couldn't help from getting jealous of that relationship. I've even asked my mom multiple times if I actually did have a secret elder brother hiding out there somewhere, waiting for the right moment to tell me. (To me, her silence was an affirmative...)

So I tried to make myself an older brother. Any family friends we had-older brother. My math buddy? Older brother. Camp counselor? Older brother. Best friend? Older brother. But I was still missing that real, actual, older brother.

Alas, my misery ends with good news. Not only do I have an older brother here: I. HAVE. TWO.

Holy crap, I was so happy to meet them. I had already met Alex dai, (meaning older brother), 11 years ago, the last time I came, but I only have a small memory of sitting and eating sugar cane with him while he made fun of me for some long forgotten reason. The other however, I had only found out through Facebook, when my mom told me that I had another brother cousin. I met him for the first time this visit, and he owns a restaurant and I got to eat so much food. I love them both so much, it's like all the love that I had tucked away is bubbling out.

With all my cousins and nuclear family (only), I have two older brothers, Alex dai and Bishal dai; two older sisters, Bhavana didi and Ragini didi; four younger sisters, Asmita, Ayushma, Dipshika, and Sidiksha; one younger brother, Rajiv.

This doesn't even include all the cousins of my cousins (hi Sriyog! Anushree! Shreeya didi!). Or cousins of those cousins. Or children of parents' friends. Or children of neighbors, friends, grandma's dad's brother's child's relatives. No, I'm being serious. At the hospital, my mom was recognized by her roommate: my grandma's dad's brother's cousin.

Nepal is a small world. Everyone's family here. (This last line was courtesy of Asmita).

BUT WAIT. THERE'S MORE.

Okay, this post wasn't supposed to be about me freaking out over the fact that I have brothers. (Although it sorta is. A bit. But seriously. They're amazing. I KNEW I had older brothers.) This post is about the awe-inspiring bond that's here, something I wish we had in America.

Families get together for bhojs (feasts), parties, and just random surprise visits all the time. And it's not just family on either side, mom's and dad's. No, family from my mom AND dad's sides get together and rely on each other and take care of each other. Finding out that Alex dai (my dad's nephew) is in such close contact with my mom's brother surprised me so much. But that's just how close and interconnected everybody is here.

This ohana impacted me the most when my mom had to be hospitalized.

She got a Urinary Tract Infection, same as last year, due to E.coli in something she ate/drank. Last year, she was able to get by with home rest and antibiotics, but this year, after three days straight of a fever over 102 F, we had to rush her to the hospital.

This was the first time she had stayed overnight in the hospital, and it unfortunately happened to be the same day that my dad left for the US again. If my dad was here, he could stay in the hospital, take care of her, keep her company, but he was gone. My aunt and uncle were busy with work, and I couldn't drive here (I wouldn't dare to--I'll show you guys in the next post).

But our family was there for us. Everyday and every night, someone would be there with my mom when I couldn't be, from my other aunts and uncles, to my grandparents, and aunt's grandparents, and cousins, and people just completely non blood-related to her. My dad's brother Binod tau-ba (uncle) even stayed overnight, trying his best to sleep on the small cot in the room.

Everybody brought food. Joula (rice porridge), soup, rice, daal (lentil soup), chicken, crackers, cookies, nuts, hot water, clothes, fruits; there was no shortage of food.

I would spend the days with her, but Mama wouldn't let me spend the night, for fear that all the stress would get me sick too. At night, I would return back home to my aunt and uncle's home in Sitapaila, and try my best to sleep before the next day. But I needn't have worried. Even before I got there, there would be at least two people sitting and chatting with her, distracting her from her painful IV and saline drip.

My mom was so embarrassed and felt so needy to have so many people taking time out of their busy days to come watch after her, especially at night, but my aunt summed it up best. "If your family can't even do this much for you, who will?" After all, it's our family that has our back when we're sick, or down, and need help. They'll always be there for us.

Man, I have SO MANY AMAZING PICTURES of my freaking beautiful family but I don't want to post them because...ya'know...stalkers.

Well, kind of. (That's a story for a different day). But also the fact that it's probably illegal to post someone's picture without their consent, and I don't want to do that to anyone who doesn't want it. The Internet is a scary place.


I'm a mess. I'm leaving in five days and I've made, what, five posts? I'm a disappointment.

I won't be able to update either because we're going to Chyasal for the next three days (my mom's family's home), and there's no wifi there.

I'll try though.

See y'all soon. Big hugs.

Par-tay!!!

I know I haven't updated in a long time. I've been putting this off more than homework...that's saying something. :(
My procrastination is terrible. I keep coming up with post ideas while on the road, doing things. in the taxi, but never end up writing them since I get so lethargic as soon as I get home.

Okay, the title is a bit misleading because I'm not exactly all that excited. Yes, we did have a party, and it was a lot of fun, but I am completely drained.

My uncle, aunt, and parents hosted a party at a restaurant with a third-floor banquet hall. As soon as I got there, for some reason, I began panicking. Absolutely no cause. But I stuck it through and the symptoms went away-I was fine.

Guests started arriving. It was all aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and parents' friends and their children and just a whole. Bunch. Of. Relatives. It was freaking amazing.
That's the thing I'll have to explain in my next post-the beautiful family circles and relations that are present here.

The thing is, I'm an introvert. Ish. Maybe more of an ambivert to be honest, since I do have my moments of talkativeness and excitability (very rare and usually with close friends though). Soo, parties usually aren't my thing. I'll talk for a bit then retreat into a corner with a book/my phone/the family pet if available (puppies always come first!) But today, surrounded by all these relatives and parents and family, I felt responsible to host the party. I walked around from table to table, trying my best to use my awkward self-deprecating humor to strike up some sort of conversation, brought chairs and drinks to those who needed it, and just overall smiled my way through the night.

I was proud of myself for being able to make a bunch of adults that I respected laugh, as well as be myself for a bit, but by the first hour, I was pooped. My sister and my cousins were all sitting together, with a seat saved for me, and I wanted so badly to join them, but felt I couldn't. I felt obligated to keep hosting, making sure everyone other than myself was happy.

As the older sister, and the eldest hosting cousin present, I always feel a responsibility to take care of everyone. Even when my sister pulled me away, I ignored her and took the weight of the party upon myself.

Why do I always do this to myself? Even at small parties at home, even at my own birthday party, I do this. It's almost expected of me, and I can't ruin that reputation.

It's not that I'm forced to do this, or that I don't like it, it just drains me completely. Even now, my family and cousin and aunt and uncle are playing cards-I'm typing this in the corner. Gotta recharge now.

But that's not to say I'm not happy. I've spent the past twenty paragraphs just complaining and whining about my poor night: wow, what a baby I am. That's not how I wanted to come across--yikes.

My dad's sister, my fufu, made it to the party tonight. This would usually be expected, but my fufu is special.

She's been suffering with mental illnesses for almost a decade now. She's had delusions, moments of split personality, hallucinations, and major, major depression. She hasn't picked up anyone's calls, allowed anyone to visit her at home, and doesn't leave her house.

My dad has tried for years to figure out what's wrong, but without being there directly, he hasn't been able to do anything. No one in the family has been able to, even her son, her husband, her brothers, her parents. My cousin, Alex dai, has been to every doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, and therapist there is here.

But this year, after 11 years, we were able to call fufu and visit her, all in one day.

She was sitting on the couch, holding her head in her hands, surrounded by medications of all kinds, scattered around in boxes and bags. We sat all around her, my dad held her hands, and we talked it through.

By the end of our visit, she was smiling and laughing and looked much better. She's not cured yet, but she has hope, finally.

So the fact that she made it to the party tonight made me cry. To be able to get past such crippling depression and come was so inspirational and yet so heartbreaking.

My cousins were there too, and there's so much to write about them. I love them so freaking much it hurts. I never ever realized what I was missing. Ahhhhh, the next post is gonna be all about my family.

Wow, writing all that makes me feel so much better. I'm sorry to you reader who were hoping for more of a travel blog, what with pictures and descriptions and amazing writing. This is actually pretty much a diary-a pretty public one at that. But I feel comfortable sharing all of this, more like it's all in my head. I can get out my personal issues without having to confront and confess.

There's so much left to write, but my eyelids are getting heavy.

You know what? I've been pushing myself to make this a more legit blog, something with fantastic word choice and intricate details with complex analysis. But screw it all this is gonna be my stream of consciousness: y'all are gonna intimately see how I think, pauses and awkward moments and terrible grammar and all.

Sorry for no pictures this post either wow. D: But I'm happy yes so all is okay.

Bye for now, before I start ranting more, yikes. :P Miss you all, and big hugs.

Why the World Needs Feminism

Feminism is a crucial topic, especially in developing countries such as Nepal.

There are the obvious worries, such as the practice of sati, where a Hindu widow throws herself onto her husband's funeral pyre, burning herself alive, since she is of no worth without her husband.

There's the child marriage, where young girls, even at the ages of seven or eight, sometimes even less, are sent into a marriage with a usually much older man, one who obtains his wife that young to ensure her virginity.

There's female infanticide-the abortions and murders of female babies due to the fact that parents and communities do not want to be responsible for the dowry that will eventually appear.

There's abuse. Whether it be marital, familial, child, or sexual abuse, it stems from the idea that women are weak and they must be punished in order to conform to the ideal.

It's worse within the most rural of villages, where communities are small and minds are even smaller. Tiny towns like these tend to stick to their traditional values, with their set ideas of gender, sexuality, marriage, rights, and treatments. They have neither learned nor seen anything saying otherwise, which is not entirely their fault, if done mistakenly. But we need a voice everywhere.

I bring this topic up not because I've seen any of the horrific abuses and tragedies I've described above, thank goodness. I'm talking about the smaller things that I've noticed.

Small things like the doctor asking me yesterday, "Are you sure? Is this really what's happening?" when I described my stomach and head pain symptoms. I didn't take his questions seriously (perhaps he asked this of all his patients just to make sure), but it occurs a lot. Read for more: http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/10/emergency-room-wait-times-sexism/410515/

Small things like in the emergency room today, I had to remove my bra to perform an ECG, and my main worry became 'what will people think of me? will my body be sexualized?' rather than the fact that I was in serious pain and I had to focus on reporting my symptoms accurately so as to get the best treatment.

Small things like nurses and doctors only calling my dad over to talk over the diagnosis and medications with him, leaving my mom to walk up on her own and struggle to make any comment on her own daughter's well-being.

Small things like my dear aunt staying up until eleven, watching with worry out the window for our taxi cab to arrive, unsure if it would, because it was just my mom, my sister, and me travelling in the middle of the night. When we arrived, she told us never to go out on our own like that again-it's too dangerous for girls.

These issues may not seem important in the light of more drastic ones such as the ones listed before, but the actually are. Quite so.

What these incidents tell females and males alike is that females complain too much, so they should not be taken seriously; their bodies are for the enjoyment of males; males are the only ones who can understand such complicated matters-females have simple brains; girls are not safe-they'll definitely be attacked at night.
Psychologically, this shatters a female's sense of self-esteem, ruining her goals, hopes, dreams, prospects. It degrades her, makes her believe that she truly is worth less than a man.
In males, it does the opposite, but to a much greater damage. Men see themselves as more powerful, yes, but they also see women as simple things, playtoys that can be used and thrown away to their own liking,
This is why instead of teaching our little girls to be more careful, to not talk back, to dress carefully, always walk with a friend, and never in the dark, we need to teach our little boys to treat everyone with the same respect, to never hurt someone, to always be there to help.

I'm done with being apologetic.



That's all for tonight. It's getting late. I wish I could've updated sooner, written more, but wifi is spotty There and I usually don't get it, especially as we switch houses, and I've been pretty sick. But I'm doing better, don't worry! Tons of antibiotics for me. I'll explain in (probably?) the next post.

This is some heavy chevy stuff but I needed it out. Everyone needs to realize this.

Please leave comments and questions below--I'm totally up for discussion and clearing confusion. If you have any incidents you want to share, please do so.

Until tomorrow (I'll try!). Big hugs. Miss you all.

Destruction and Dogs

Wow what a morbid title. But hey--alliteration! ;)

Today I wanted to talk about the rise of Nepal from its ashes (and now I turn into a talk show host). But seriously. One year ago, on a Saturday in April, Nepal was shaken by an earthquake of 7.8. Luckily, this happened during midday on a weekend, so most everybody was out and about, walking and socializing. Few people were inside their homes, on a beautiful day like this. That's why we were able to escape a death toll larger than 8,019. It could've been much worse.

However the point of me saying this was not to make y'all sad. No, no please don't. Today I went out and among the rubble was a rebirth. Old buildings that had fallen were now being rebuilt, clean, advanced, and up to new safety codes. People now had jobs, fixing roads and monuments. Neighbors helped each other, communities grew tighter than they were. As always, life goes on.

The hills stay standing. The people stay resilient. Nepal forges on.

Oh What A Beautiful Morning!

First morning in Nepal!

As much as I was anxious about coming here, I feel so happy now. The plane ride was rough, but that's to be expected. I kept worrying about how things had changed in the last 11 years since I've been here, what everyone would expect from me, and how I would adjust.

My biggest concern: Would I really like Nepal?

Upon landing, it was downpouring, as it is monsoon season right now here, but it was the nice type of rain that makes you want to run outside and splash aorund. It was the type of rain that I love.

The first person I saw was my uncle, then my dear grandma. It's been years and years since I've seen her, and I broke down. Unfortunately it had stopped raining by then so I didn't even have an excuse for the streams of water running down my face.

VIRTUALLY EVERYONE AROUND ME IS NEPALI. The weirdest thing, considering back in the US my family and I use Nepali to talk amongst ourselves without being understood--but now everyone could understand us. But I love how diverse Nepal is. Not as much as America, but even within this tiny landlocked country, there are so many influences from the North (China) and the South (India). There is no typical "Nepali" look. It's all quite the mix of genes around here.

Right now we're staying at my other uncle's home, the same one that I had stayed at in my childhood. The traffic all around is actually quite comforting, a pleasant white noise in the background.

It's just a completely different feel. Different, not bad. Familiar in a way. I love it.

This post is just a mess of memories of the past two days of flying and experiences of today-I apologize for that.

Oh yes!! Happy July 4th to my fellow Americans (and a happy belated July 1st for you Canadians)!

See y'all soon. Big hugs

The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow!

Welp, here goes.

Flight is tomorrow, and I'm all packed and all, yet I. Am. Irrationally. Worried.
Yay anxiety!

This blog will probably turn out to be rather like an informal, totally public diary of my innermost thoughts-quite like Riddle's.

I'm assuming y'all know me, so I won't bother with introductions, but here's the bare basics:
Name: Anu Tuladhar (full name Anusuya-but I'm only called that when I get in trouble)
Age: 17 (dancing queen!!)
Height (?): 5'4'' I want to be taller. Just a bit. Please.
Hobbies: Reading, Crying, Sleeping, Eating

Right now I am not in the best state of mind, so excuse my rampant and wholly unnecessary sarcasm. Hopefully tomorrow turns out better.

ALSO! I'll try to update everyday, but we all know that won't be happening. My going rate will probs be every week or so, more if I have more to rant about.

By the way, I've had the song stuck in my head since this morning.