Covered in shit... and liking it?

I am constantly feeling like I have too many stories to tell so all of this may ramble and jump, but I'm sure you can forgive me with a minimal effort…
I've finally made a commitment to living in the village full-time and have recently discovered that I now speak more Tamang than most of my Nepali co-workers in Kathmandu. In the past, I have hit many mile stones regarding my village experience including learning almost every child's name, my first non-traumatic bowel movement after eating questionable curry and lentils for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day, and more recently being able to drink the local water without becoming violently ill; but my proudest moment came last week when I met a boy and his father herding water buffaloes in the jungle and had an actual conversation with them. It was genuinely thrilling, though slightly disappointing as well that that kind of thing is now so exciting in my life, as opposed to a cool rock concert or bungee jumping or something more along those lines. It has also become slightly alarming how certain things don't excite me (or horrify me) as they have in the past. Rats scuttling by my bed for example or having to crap in the woods, blowing my nose in my hand, and as always, being less grossed-out by foods you couldn't have paid me to try five years ago. I'll spare you yet another ghastly tale of strange organs and questionable dairy products.

This month I proved my dogged effort to assimilate to village life once again when I spent three days putting mud and manure on the walls of one of the villager's homes. A mysterious bouquet of odors is produced when mixing cow shit with water and red mud on a hot day, an experience I'm sure you'll terribly regret missing, but we can't all be so lucky. It was actually quite fun, despite being literally covered in shit. Me and a bunch of young village women were all throwing mud around and they were singing folk songs, and I was even able to joke around with them occasionally, eventually we started hurling huge snow balls of mud at each other (the first and probably the last time that I will ever laugh if someone lobs a huge ball of shit at my face). I was feeling really accepted rather than getting looked at as if I had two heads, although when I was stomping mud in a pit we dug outside (feeling like Lucy and Ethel stomping grapes) one of the little boys passing by commented on ‘how strange it looks when there was black mud on white skin,’ it was such an appropriate metaphor for my life in the village; ah from the mouths of babes....

So, I've been working like a dog for this Non-profit organization and lately there seems to be a very frustrating pattern of their demands with no poise, and my positive results without any of their thanks, and it's beginning to really test my patience. I hate to vent, but it's just so satisfying and at this point I have surveyed 10 schools in the two districts near Gurje (the village I'm living in) some up to seven hours walking distance from the village; one way! (And I am not the most fit individual) Some of these journeys include scaling boulders on alarmingly steep hillsides! And the surveys require everything from measurements of buildings and rooms with diagrams (even the thickness of the walls!), right up to the stationary and number of female and male students in each class. Along with my one and only Nepali coworker (well, to inject yet more honesty into this missive, he's been more than a coworker since December) we have organized four women's groups in the area, met with farmers and handed out enough seeds from the INGO to revitalize their terraces, repaired the house the volunteers will stay in to the level of non-repugnant, and also prepared 72 children's profiles, hopefully for sponsorship. I'm also realizing more and more that I know a great deal more about the village and it's culture than anyone else in the organization, more than those who aren't originally from the village anyway, and none of my superiors seem to respect the work I'm doing out there (hmph!). Wah wah wah, poor me. One of my Nepali co-workers was kind enough to compliment my hard work and patience, but it made me reflect that perhaps there is a very thin line between being patient and being taken advantage of. But, I digress… their goals are still in tune with my own and their hearts are still in the right place; and I could never say enough good things about what they are trying to do and what they have accomplished so far. So, I suppose I should put up or shut up; which turns out to be an international social commentary ;)