We're going on a picnic!

"Alright boys and girls, we're going on a picnic tomorrow. Remember to back your sack lunches with your peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, a few carrot sticks, a couple chocolate chip cookies and a juice box. And please remember to write your name on the outside of your sack. The bus will be here in the morning to drive us to the (park/beach/zoo etc.) so don't be late. Oh and make sure your parent has signed the permission slip." That's a picnic right? At least the ones I knew growing up. We let me tell you, boys and girls, that is NOT the way they do picnics in Nepal. A Nepalese school picnic is unlike anything I had or, I'm sure I can safely say, any western school kid has ever experienced. It started early yesterday morning when all the younger kids (this picnic was for the younger half of the school, so kids aged 3-9) and the teachers met at the front of the school. It was actually quite interesting to see all the kids without their uniforms on (casual day for picnic day you see). Many of them I barely recognized they looked so different. We then set about collecting the necessary items for the picnic from the schoolyard and surrounding homes. This included (and this is where things start to get real different) pots, pans, buckets, bags of food (and I mean massive shopping bags, no brown paper bags here) and loads of wood (for the fire of course!). We then loaded it all onto, nope, not the bus, ourselves. And then set out for the picnic site. The spot for the picnic turned out to be a mountain top about a half hour walk from the school. Imagine if you will a parade of youngsters and their teachers all carrying loads of assorted goods, weaving their way through villages and over rockpiles. Even the little ones joined in, carrying one large pot between two kids. Then we got to the mountain and had to scale, again with arms full of very heavy, in my case, wood, up the mountain to where our picnic would be. And there was no trail to speak of. It was a clammouring through brush and ocassionaly stumbling upon a few stones that seemed to form a few steps. Not an easy task with loaded arms and three year olds to look after. But we finally made it. I threw down my bag of wood and rejoiced that we had finally made it. Getting to a Nepalese picnic is, well, no picnic. I even had a chance to look around at the beautiful scenery...these people sure can choose a good location...before I heard "Megan, come for pani!" (water). Yes, we had gotten everything up the hill, including empty buckets which all the women, including myself and Jana, had to carry back down to the nearby village, fill with water, and carry back up to the picnic site. What else were we going to drink and cook with. I think that mountain grew about a mile higher when I returned with my bucket full of water (to be honest, by the time I got to the top it was really more like half full and must of my clothes were quite soaked from all the spillage). And now, the cooking began, also the women's work. We peeled and chopped our way through piles of peas, potatoes, tomatos, ginger, garlic, onions, and radish while the male teachers prepared the fire. In the massive pot it all went along with (praise the Lord!) chicken! The first meat i've had since I left home I think. And while this was all cooking, the massive speaker, which one of the teachers had also carried all the way up the mountainside, began playing music and the kids were dancing their little hearts out. And the teachers all joined in as well. It was mostly Nepali folk and pop music, but then something came on that completely threw me...Folks, I have spent the past year in the Western world doing my best to avoid hearing anything by this artist. I knew his name and had heard a short clip on the news of his hit sing, but was able to avoid any further exposure...but here, on a mountain in the middle of Nepal, Justin Beiber finally caught up with me. And the kids loved him! The song played at least seven times throughout the day and it was so funny to watch them all dance and "sing along" to words they didn't even understand. So we danced and ate and danced and ate some more. At one point while we were all eating some of the best veggie curry and coconut fried rice I have ever had, the school principle came up and filled mine and Jana's glasses with what, to me, appeared to be apple juice. Without a second thought I downed about half of it in one gulp. Ladies and gentlemen, rather than the expected apple juice, I now had a mouthful of pure, straight up whiskey! Quite shocking when you're not expecting it and I provided all the teachers with quite a laugh. They all were thuroughly enjoying the two litre Mountain Dew bottle full of the stuff being passed around their little circle for the rest of the day :) Guess teachers need a little pick-me-up on Picnic Day. And then came the clean up. No just throwing your brown bag in the nearby trashcan. We had to wash all pots, pans, and utinsils, and then burn the pile of rubbish that we had left over (mostly the paper plates we ate off). And then, as the sun began to set, we headed back to school. At least the load heading back was a bit lighter as we had cooked, eaten, or burned most of what we took with us. As we walked, the snow on the mountains that surrounded us began to change to lovely hues of orange and pink. Absolutely incredible. So that was picnic day. Completely exhausting, but also totally fun. Namaste from Sarangkot :)