Sorry for the delay in posts. This new laptop does not have a processor up to par with the rest of the world. I am in KTM the next few days and hope to catch up. Here is a horribly depressing post from two weeks ago….
Hey did you all know I’m fat? Yeah, apparently I am fat. I mean I must be really fat, despite the 60lbs I’ve lost over the last few years, because they keep TELLING ME how fat I am. I mean we had a 30 minute conversation about it today that left me in tears. So I am hoping that if I just let the world know how fucking fat I am, we can stop talking about it.
I was having a really nice day. I did some serious bonding with my baheenee, the youngest, because we went shopping today and I just let her pick out whatever she wanted for me. It was like playing dress up for her. I was glad to let her do it. I had been wanting a new Kurta Surawal, a traditional Nepali outfit, for awhile and this was a nice opportunity. Tij is also coming and that’s another “Gotta get you a special outfit” for it. Now I already told them I wasn’t going to be here for Tij, I am on my way to KTM for some training, but I still wanted to participate and get the outfit.
Also, I need to speak to Peace Corps ability to constantly book things for Tharu holidays and events. They make us live with host families, ask us to integrate and become part of the family, and then they pull us away on big events. I swear every training I have had has interrupted some holiday.
So I bought two new outfits, got a ton of jewelry and makeup. We got mehendi hair dye so I can look more Nepali. We spelled perfumes and looked at nail polish. GIRL CENTRAL. And I dropped a lot of cash, which of course when we got back home everyone had to ask how much shit was. Which I hate. No matter what I spend it’s too much and very expensive. No matter what.
And we came home and everyone was so excited. My host dad had the biggest smile on his face I have ever seen. He was just so pleased that I was participating in a way he understood. All the village women were very excited. Like I was a hit.
And then, as is the way of Nepal, it went south very fast. Due to the mad rush to get stuff for Tij the sewing pasals were crowded and it was almost a month wait for stuff. So we brought them to a cousin who does some side work as a sewer. And here is where it all goes south.
My cousin started laughing when she took my waist measurement. I smacked her on the shoulder and asked her why she was laughing, and she told me because I was so fat. Every item of clothing I handed her she told me it was too small and I was too fat and should have gotten a bigger size.
And may I interrupt my own monologue here, because I’ve had two Kurta Surwals and a blouse made before. I bought the exact same stuff I bought previously and there was no problem with it.
At some point my uncle came in, and for about 30 minutes told me how fat I was. How he couldn’t believe one of my older Kurtas was too big for me. He was full of shit. And he often likes to tell me how fat I am. He was on fire, he just kept telling me how fat I was and how small everything I bought was and I need to go back and make them give me more fabric because I am so fat and I should just give some of the fabric to my Aamaa because it doesn’t fit.
So, of course I started to cry, not sob, just one of those tears that start rolling down your face and you can’t help. My baheenee and I left and I booked it up to my room to have a sob fest with another volunteer about my poor fragile self esteem that I’ve been spending years rebuilding after the torture of public school. In fact I actually kind of miss the passive aggressive nature of Minnesota. I don’t give a shit if you talk behind my back.
So I sobbed and begged for sympathy from my friends here. Who were good. I mean when you have bad days in Peace Corps really only the other volunteers will ever understand.
I begrudgingly went down to dinner. The thing with Nepal I’ve noticed too is they won’t ask what’s wrong while it’s happening, they wait until you look normal again.
So at dinner my host started by telling me she felt bad that nothing was going to work, because it was kind of her job to help me out and she told them how much fabric to give us. I told her not to worry. And she and my Aamaa agreed they were being super rude to me over at my Uncles house.
And that was nice, that they saw that. That they both said my extended wasn’t being nice.
I told my sister I still had a really nice day with her, and she agreed.