My story
Heidi Fitch
PembrokeshireWales
About me
I’m Heidi, 24, severely deaf. I come from Pembrokeshire, Wales. I went to Mary Hare School for the deaf for two years doing A levels, and then opted for a transitional year between school and university in Canada. I graduated at University of Reading with a 2:1 in Theatre Arts, Education, and Deaf Studies. With itchy feet and a dose of wanderlust, I took another year out working and travelling in different parts of the world – the majority of the year was spent in Canada, especially in Whistler, ski resort. I also went to Nepal... My Story
In 2003, Paul Hull and I successfully applied to the Jack Ashley Millennium Awards Scheme. They provided funding for our project of teaching deaf people English for three months in Nepal, a small country sandwiched between two gigantic neighbours – China and India. I had read a VSO article describing how life is a constant struggle for Deaf people in Nepal, - there are 23 million people in Nepal and 16% of the population have some degree of hearing loss through illness and diseases - and not more than five per cent of them have access to educational services. We wanted to help deaf people with writing and reading so that they lead an improved life with better prospects.
Why Nepal?
Personally, being accustomed to western culture, I wanted to go somewhere different and exotic. A friend who had extensively travelled around the world strongly recommended going to Nepal, saying it was the most beautiful place she had been to. So for a few years, I had toyed with the idea of going to Nepal, wanting to discover their ways of life and their culture. All I knew was that Nepal was a poor but beautiful country with a lot to offer but I didn’t really know what to expect. I was really looking forward to the prospect of spending three months in a totally different country.
First impressions
My first impressions upon arrival late in the afternoon of July 11th 2002 were: heavy rain (monsoon season), humid and warm air, slow service at the airport (standard of service isn’t as high as we’re used to!), touts, communication problems (thank god for our interpreter Emily!), being constantly greeted “Namaste” (May be the gods be with you), etc. During the mini-bus journey to our pre-booked hotel, I was particularly struck by the poverty. I already knew in my mind that it was poor but there’s nothing like the shock of seeing it for real. It felt like stepping out of a time machine, and both Paul and I were thinking “woah, this is a different world, this is surreal, this is daunting!” etc. It took at least a week to overcome the culture shock, and get used to the way of life, and eventually growing to appreciate and love the country.
We stayed in Hotel Excelsior in Thamel, a tourist district which I think is the most colourful part of Kathmandu. It was an opportunity to check out the local customs for a few days, before staying with our host family. And oh boy, there’s a lot to say about Kathmandu and what makes it so unique – wow, how to start?
It is really a melting pot of a dozen ethnic groups in Kathmandu - some families have come from afar in search of jobs (the average annual income a month is only £150.)
I can remember that strolling on the streets of Kathmandu was quite overwhelming. The sights, sounds and smells sure can come as a shock to the senses. I found it weird and mysterious in that some places are almost unchanged since the Middle Ages with 2000 years old temples, stone gods, age old houses while in others it’s just like another developing capital rushing carelessly into the modern age with all the western amenities. If you walk through jostling crowds down the narrow streets, you can’t miss the constant energy and character and you can see that life is lived on the street.
It seems that everything is done on the street - meals are cooked and eaten, clothes washed, games played, things repaired, etc - all in full view of the passing public! It seemed to me that they don’t have the same concept of privacy like we do. Despite its exotic bustle, street hustlers are a bit of challenge to deal with – they never hesitate to befriend you, constantly initiating conversations with, “how are you, where are you from?” I normally minimized interaction with them, being a deaf person anyway, and calmly showed disinterest in objects shoved in my face. There were quite a few children and disabled people begging. Others would stare as if we were the object of curiosity but we got used to that.
Nepalese people may or may not have an ulterior motive up their sleeve, but in general they are friendly and helpful and welcoming. Everyone seems so unhurried and mellow on the roads, but once they're behind the wheel....they are maniacs! Believe me, you would not want to grapple with the chaotic roads (especially the roundabouts), it really is madness! It seemed to me that there isn’t a proper traffic system. Kathmandu is congested with vehicles (rickshaws, taxis) as well as with cyclists, motorbikes, street vendors, etc.
For us, walking around the city could be a little frustrating with rickshaw drivers constantly asking you if you need a ride and motorbikes whizzing past a few inches from you - there are hardly any pavements in Nepal and not surprisingly, every single car has a scratch on them. Oh, I nearly forgot to mention that if you kill a cow the penalty is 12 years in prison, the same as for killing a person!! Cows are considered sacred in Nepal and they are allowed to roam anywhere they want, even the roads.
Wherever you go, religion is everywhere. Religious rituals are part of daily life. They have their own sacred places of worship scattered all around the city. Durbar Square, in the centre of Kathmandu, is the most important cultural site in Kathmandu Valley, - a complex of beautiful Hindu and Buddhist temples and shrines, built between the 12th and 18th centuries.. Nepal has the world’s only Hindu Monarchy and it is estimated that 86% of the population are Hindu and 7% are Buddhist. But in reality, people practise a mixture of both, following many folk beliefs for good measure.
I liked to wander in and out of the tiny shops in Thamel, (as any female would) their colourful contents spilling out into the sunlight. As there's no fixed price in most shops, you’re expected to barter! At first the idea was kind of scary but after a couple of times, I thought it was quite fun. I learnt that one thing you have to make sure of is to smile at the trader before leaving the shop, just to be polite –and as long as it’s not taken too seriously while you barter - it’s supposed to be an enjoyable social exchange.
When it’s all too much, you can take refuge in restaurants, where a good meal with drinks can be purchased for four pounds; this was our biggest daily expense. Money sure goes a long way in Nepal – a basic room would cost about 120 rupees - about 90p!! Emailing for an hour is 30 rupees (internet cafes are very widespread, unlike Britain!).
At the weekends, Thamel is where all the action is! I can recall sound systems blaring across the alleyways, with revellers (like us) looking for fun, and rickshaws waiting outside for closing time. Nightclubs are full of Nepalese men hanging around desperate to hook up with western girls. Sometimes their behaviour is a bit droll; it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they’re after your money, visa, etc! I noticed that hardly any Nepalese women go out, though I have been told that women do drink secretly. We met up with quite a lot of volunteers from Teaching and Projects abroad at the weekends. It was great to meet them and to be able to communicate freely with them instead of struggling to understand Nepalese people.
At one time, Paul and I happened to come across this deaf couple, the Shakyas, at their own hotel (Hotel Kantipur), a stone’s throw away from Thamel. They were the first deaf people we met and made us so welcome, it was only our third day in Nepal. They kindly drove us to NFDH (National Federation for the Deaf and Hard of hearing) and introduced us to its president and its members. They seemed very pleased to meet us. We explained why we were there, that we were going to teach at the deaf school, and they taught us a bit of Nepalese alphabet which contains 55 letters! They also gave us a few gifts, a calendar, a colourful book for deaf children, etc. It was really interesting but trying to communicate was challenging.
Meeting our host family
After a few days getting orientated in Thamel, Paul and I finally met the host family about a couple of miles away from the city centre of Kathmandu, in an area called Chandol. It is all authentic Nepali with no tourist shops. Sajani, who supervises Teaching and Projects Abroad volunteers introduced us to the host family, a husband and wife, two sons (Bijay, 22 and Ajay, 23) and a daughter (Mala, 24). The house was almost always full, we had volunteers from around the world including Japan and Holland, but mostly from Britain,. We were fortunate that our host family were reasonably well-off compared to others, and that they had warm Nepalese hospitality.
We showed each other photographs to break the ice and as time went on, I felt more comfortable and more involved with the family. I even taught them the alphabet and several words in British Sign Language. They did like to watch a lot of typical Hindi programmes, so to relieve boredom we played a lot of card games and chess, as we were expected to stay in after supper. That didn’t apply at weekends, as we headed off to Thamel
Staying with a host family was obviously different from staying in the West, it was quite an experience though - shortages of water and electricity (power cuts can happen anytime!), and...squat toilets! We also had to adapt to their habits – using your right hand to eat, handle food or shake hands, as your left hand is considered dirty. Also, when entering homes, we had to take shoes off at the door (the head is the most sacred while the feet are the least sacred). We soon got used to eating Dhal Bhaat. It is Nepal’s simple national dish which contains boiled rice, lentils sauce and curried vegetables, seasoned with spicy pickled vegetables. People consume this twice a day, for breakfast and supper! After a while though, you can’t help but think you could just murder fish and chips wrapped in newspaper with tomato sauce!!!
Visiting the Welfare Society for the Hearing Impaired
On Monday 15th July, Sajani took us to the Welfare Society for the Hearing Impaired (WSHI) which was a twenty minute walk from the host family’s house. It is the only deaf school in the capital with 280 students, whose age ranged from five to twenty one . Needless to say, the school has a lack of resources – it’s hard to imagine the children having the sophisticated equipment such as the headphones that we were used to at Mary Hare!
It has to be said – the little children are adorable. In the absence of teachers they would go crazy and scream and run in corridors, whereas the older ones were inquisitive (some quickly assumed we were from America!). As usual, we were subjected to questions such as, “where are you from, are you married, what do you do, have you met David Beckham?” They were so excited to see us every time and we would chat away. I think it was something to do with the fact that we were deaf foreigners and that meeting us helped prove that there are actually other deaf people from around the world (Nepal was actually isolated from the outside world until the 1950’s when the country opened its doors). Children, especially the smaller ones, jump at every opportunity to pose for photographs!
Teaching at the school
In the beginning, there was a lot of confusion and misunderstandings between parties, we had arrived thinking we would be teaching English, but the teachers thought we were going to help with the new library. In the end, it was agreed that we would learn Nepali sign language in the morning and help with the library work in the afternoon, and teach English once we were done. Paul and I remembered: the staff at the deaf association had informed us of problems at the school – in their opinion, it is not properly run and the deaf children are not fully educated while the teachers’ primary concern are their jobs and not child’s education.
So we would begin the day learning Nepali sign language classes, which is provided for hearing parents of deaf children. I thought that the teacher, Ram was really good, full of amusing stories, though one mother complained he talked too much! To start with, it was all very confusing with all the translating going on - from NSL to English to BSL. After two weeks when our interpreter Emily left we managed to cope by ourselves. We learnt new words in Nepalese sign language all the time and if we didn’t understand the teacher, the students in our sign language class were very helpful and translated it into English for us – in return, we taught them British Sign Language. One woman in the class told us she had relatives who own a Nepalese restaurant in Reading! As time progressed, we picked it up very quickly and before long we were able to hold conversations quite easily in Nepalese Sign language, while relying on the International Manual Alphabet to spell out words in English.
The afternoon was spent in the library which was very recently built, funded by a couple in America. We were given the tedious task to set it up for the school: hours of typing up information about the books, categorizing them into different topics, and finding a way to establish a system on the computer so that it was possible to retrieve information for the 1,500+ books. All that took us three weeks to figure out.
After that we were hoping to get an opportunity to gain teaching experience that we came for. Still we felt that the teachers were not keen for us to teach the deaf children. I have heard stories of young people who are hearing are left to their own devices in classrooms in another country and they don’t even speak their native language, yet we weren’t allowed to do that!! I tried to point out that there’s so many ways of communicating. But for some reason, they seemed reluctant, perhaps they underestimated us. Even one teacher once said to us “if you teach the pupils one mistake, they will be “damage” (meaning misunderstood) for rest of their lives”. To be honest, Paul and I were offended by this kind of attitude, and the funny thing is, this was a comment from a hearing man who thought he knew best even though they don’t even have teachers of the deaf . We did feel a bit frustrated, because if they had training, the chances for deaf children getting a Secondary Leaving Certificate would increase. Sadly, from what we gathered on their prize-giving day, very few bright pupils manage to pass their SLC. This means many of them either stay on to repeat another year or leave to make money, to provide financial support for their families. As a result it’s not a surprise to see that most classes are of mixed age groups.
For now, we were to observe classes. It was interesting to see how they taught written English through Nepalese sign language with Nepalese lip patterns. To us the teaching methods seemed ineffective, but what are the alternatives? If they couldn’t afford hearing aids they couldn’t speak English let alone Nepalese. It didn’t help that the teachers didn’t seem to be motivated, in turn making the children unmotivated too. But for the first deaf school that opened in 1966, the concern is that they are able to communicate through sign language in order to try and educate the deaf children. Unfortunately just because they know Nepalese Sign Language does not necessarily mean that they are good teachers.
One time, I observed a class that had an art lesson in substitute for a games lesson, as it was too wet to play outside. The teachers ordered them to draw leaves. Leaves? Out of all the objects you can draw, and they have to draw leaves on a piece of paper? It was totally beyond me, but by the end of the lesson and the teacher had left, children were fighting over chalks to draw any object on the blackboard.I then told them to write the word in English and spell it out in American Sign Language and getting them to repeat if there was any mistakes.
When we discovered the school was facing an exam period, we were disappointed for the lack of work and not being able to teach for another two weeks. So in Nepalese ke garne? What to do?
National Federation of the Deaf and Hard of Hearing
We got in touch with the National Federation of the Deaf and Hard of hearing (NFDH), asking them if they wanted any English tutors. Did we receive an enthusiastic response! Once the word got out, we could begin to teach English to school leavers and members of the deaf association. It was agreed that Paul would teach the advanced class at NFDH from 1pm to 2pm and I would teach the beginners class at KAD (Kathmandu Association for the Deaf) from 3pm to 4pm. It was only 100 yards between each place. With small rooms, they seem to manage to find space for classes, meetings and social activities. For an hour between our teaching sessions, we would attend another sign language class – for hearing young people, some had a deaf relative, some were learning for fun, some wanted to become an interpreter. The classes seemed more advanced. The tutor Kerian actually taught Ram from the deaf school!
So I had to start designing my own lessons plans for English, argh! It was to be my first experience in teaching English, although I had devised and taught drama lessons as part of my university course. For my first lesson at KAD, I went into the basics - introductions, days and months, colours, numbers, etc, using marker pens and white board. I was quite nervous as I didn’t know the people in my class and it was pretty hard because my sign language in Nepalese was still quite limited. As my confidence grew and communication became easier, I began to enjoy teaching, but at times it can be mentally exhausting. I often tested them what they had learnt, especially verbs and objects, and gave them exercises to work out on their own in class and some homework.
When Paul was teaching, I observed his classes and assisted the students a little bit. One man in his class one day brought in his old English schoolbook and as I flicked through, it was full of ‘big’ words. He had copied from the teacher and anyone could see it was from a book. It was obvious that guy could hardly understand a thing, it was unintelligible to him. Paul and I both felt that the deaf students were grateful that we were teaching them, especially because we were deaf ourselves, they felt they could relate to us and felt comfortable in their learning.
When the exam period was over, we went back to the deaf school for a meeting with Sajani. With her help and determination, she resolved the situation with two other teachers. We taught English at the school in the morning and in the afternoon we taught English at the two deaf associations as well as learning more sign language. We were happy with this routine, even though it was hectic and tiring.
Again, I taught English at a basic level whereas Paul taught advanced. In my class it varied between 20 and 30 children. There was hardly any discipline in this school compared to the previous schools that I attended myself. The children in my class were disruptive I had to tell them again and again to stay quiet and stay still! However, they were eager and strived to learn. I would draw objects on the blackboard and instructed them to write sentences such as “this is a bottle”, “this is a box”, “the ball is on the table”, “the dog is near the tree”, “the cat is under the chair”, then sign in NSL the sentence in front of the class to reinforce what they had learnt. I found that some of them couldn’t quite acknowledge what they had learnt and struggled. They needed to be taught the same thing a few times to emphasise their learning. As in every class there were a couple pupils who didn’t have to think too hard and breezed through.
In my last class that I taught at K.A.D, I’d written a simple amusing story for them, using some words they had already learnt and going through each of word in the story, and then taught them the alphabet in British Sign Language. It was sad when the teaching came to an end, everyone had insisted that we should stay for a year or so! One boy in my class even wrote me a letter saying his thanks and that I was his best teacher. I felt really touched. It’s a great feeling when you notice their English improving, knowing it’s because of your help and contribution to their language development. All the students at the deaf club were quite easy to teach; they know that knowing English gives them a better chance in life so they really value education. For all of us, it was a valuable learning experience.
The deaf community
It felt great to be really involved in the strong deaf community. I had got to know some of my students at KAD personally and interacted with them and their friends out of class, which led me to be fluent in Nepalese Sign Language. They often took us out visiting places especially festivals (they have a very hectic festive calendar!) and we would take them out in the evenings, buying them a drink or two. There was one occasion in a restaurant we were with a mixture of deaf people and hearing volunteers. There was a waiter claiming he had a son aged five who was deaf at birth but recently turned hearing. We all thought it was impossible. Soon the waiter showed us his son, and it turned out he had a cochlear implant. We were told he was the first child to be implanted in Nepal. We politely assured the waiter that his son is still deaf even with a cochlear implant, and cochlear implant is a sensitive issue in Britain.
Another time, one girl from my class at KAD took me and Paul to “Bakery Café”, where all the workers were deaf! It was a quite up-market restaurant, and deaf customers get a 10% discount! Likewise at a Gem Shop where one deaf man (and what a joker he was!) in my class was employed, and I bought a necklace for my mother at a discounted price. It is outside this shop where deaf people often gather together and chat away.
One thing I noticed was that not one deaf person wore hearing aids – not because it is expensive, but because of lack of audiologists. A few had tried hearing aids in the past without volume control.and repairs were expensive as they had to be sent overseas to places such as Japan. , It was interesting to see how some of them were under the impression that Paul and I were hearing, even if we were wearing hearing aids – and several times we had to correct them by saying “they help me to hear, it makes it easier to communicate with hearing people”. It was also because they seemed really surprised that we could actually speak. One time as we were leaving, I said to an interpreter “see you soon” in Nepalese (we also had been taking private Nepalese lessons at the host family’s home) and she was shocked, that a deaf person from abroad could speak a new language, as almost all deaf Nepalese cannot even speak their own.
In Kathmandu, a deaf person might get the opportunity to get some decent education and gain some sort of employment. But if you are a deaf person living in the mountains where routes are inaccessible, chances are you’ll be shut off from the outside world. Families are often ashamed to have deaf offspring, so deny them a proper education, access to deaf services, and sign language. NFDH tries to address this problem with financial assistance from Deafway in England. Deaf adults (some from Paul’s class) were being sent out to remote parts of the country for 10 months at a time establishing programmes teaching NSL, basic numeracy and literacy, as well as raising deaf awareness for hearing people and hearing organisations. From their report (which I helped to correct the English), their ongoing programmes are successful – deaf children who have had no accessible education are getting some for the first time, deaf adults are acquiring language skills, hearing people are changing their attitude. Nepal may be a poor country with hardly any resources but that doesn’t stop the strong deaf community from growing, promoting themselves and preserving their language.
One of the most obvious conclusions that we reached was that some methods are slow and ineffective, meaning mistakes are common and information is often inaccurate. Despite this, as we saw, their way of dealing with setbacks isn’t to complain, but to laugh. As in most of Asia, Nepalese people tend to have a relaxed approach towards things, hence the situation at the school. It can be annoying when you want important things done, but it’s best to keep your cool in order to save face, while polite persistence may clarify a situation. I notice that teachers train students to memorise and repeat rather than reason. I guess if someone tried to change the system or anything else, it wouldn’t be Nepal anymore. It’s just the way things are! One thing I learnt: let it be Nepal and experience it!
Paul and I decided we would go to Pokhara to visit the deaf school and go trekking. Pokhara is the second biggest city in Nepal and It is the first place we ventured to beyond the capital, This meant enduring a bumpy 7 hour journey by bus, which was the only way to travel . Bus drivers drive at high speed and I was always afraid we would plunge into ravines. It was that scary!! Anyway, I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of scenery - lush green countryside, very mountainous, and for a little while we even drove through clouds.
Due to political unrest there were number of police checks along the way which had been increased. We assumed correctly that it meant that the Maoists situation was worsening (the state of emergency had just been recently lifted). At every check, all the Nepalese people were ordered to get off the bus, while foreigners stayed put and at one checkpoint as we neared Pokhara, our bus driver was beaten up and almost shot in the head by an Army officer. This was because (as we later found out from our deaf guide), he didn’t stop close enough to the barrier. We felt so helpless, as the Army people were the ones with the authority. It was very upsetting to see, it dampened our spirits for a while but we put it down to experience.
After a good night’s sleep, we got a taxi to the deaf school. Our first impression was how small it was.. It opened in 1997, holds only 100 pupils, with the majority of them from villages. The teachers were welcoming and more than happy to show us around. They all said they would have liked for us to teach English there but it was too far from Kathmandu! Many teachers (children even more so) were amazed that Paul and I both had completed a BA degree, as no deaf person in Nepal has ever gone to university.
We also went to see the deaf association called G.A.D (Gandaki Association for the Deaf), which opened in 1998 and both the GAD and the school are funded by Deafway. At the deaf club, we conversed with a few people in Nepalese sign language, we got so carried away chatting to them, we didn’t even realise our taxi driver had been waiting an extra hour, oops!!
Instead of paying a considerable sum of money for a proper guide, we had a deaf guide from Paul’s class at the deaf club. We paid for his accommodation and food in return for his help, enthusiasm and stories. We had an interesting trek passing through small villages, it struck me how self-sufficient they are. Admiring the breathtaking landscapes, we encountered the local people and took photographs of them in their traditional rural life.
Nepal - the place
Although there isn’t a lot of history or cultural places, it’s very pretty with the natural settings of lakes and rivers within close proximity to the Annapurna mountains, one of the best trekking areas in Nepal. On our return, the bus journey was delayed by four hours, due to a landslide. The monsoon season, affects the whole country with flooding and landslides. On one occasion it rained uninterrupted for approximately 48 hours! The roads were becoming like rivers which made it impossible to get to places. This caused the deaths of hundreds of people and was considered a national disaster.
Overall, Nepal is a great place for outdoor pursuits. We managed to do lots of them at weekends and after teaching. This included a 500ft(160m) bungee jump, white water rafting, jungle walk, elephant safari, and a flight over Mount Everest.
Once we were back in UK, we were found it very weird out for a few days, especially after being immersed in a totally different culture for three months. It felt like I was in Nepal for ages, but at the same time it went so fast! Having arrived in early morning, walking around the town of Reading was so strange. I was wrapped up in winter clothes; I’d forgotten how cold it could get. I couldn’t help but compare it to the streets of Kathmandu. There's nothing I could say is the same, everything is such a huge contrast. No more tooting horns, stares, rickshaws or taxi’s creeping up behind you, beggars,or street traders vying for your attention, and wisps of incense. Everything here seems so organised, clean and tidy. I realise that U.K. is a rich country but it’s only when I got back, having witnessed extreme poverty that it hit me how rich we were. We can afford so much and don’t even need half the things we possess, which we take for granted yet we make complaints about the trivial matters. For instance what Nepalese people earn is barely enough to buy three hearty meals a day. They don’t complain because they don’t know any different, but they are always happy and willing to help each other out: their hardships form strong communities. I’m glad of the experiences I had, and that I had chosen to go to Nepal
Conclusion
The experiences have helped me to understand things in different ways. Someone who is contemplating going to Nepal should take their sense of humour with them, and be ready to accept its culture and to explore what Nepal has to offer with an open mind. With so many photography opportunities, I took about 500 photographs, it is definitely a photographer’s dream out there! I have to say the Kingdom of Nepal is an amazing and intriguing country with its fascinating history, colourful culture and breathtaking scenery. I can see why travellers we met are drawn back to Nepal again and again because it is a difficult place to dislodge from your memory. Being involved with programmes like this is very much of an eye-opener and helped me to grow as a person.
Without the Jack Ashley Millennium Awards, I would not have had the opportunity to follow my dream. Massive thanks to them for the most stimulating experience that anyone could have, and also to other people that made everything possible – such as Teaching and Projects Abroad. There is still so much to say about our experiences in Nepal but it’s impossible to put everything down. If curiosity gets the better of you, don’t talk about going to where you want to go – just go, like a true traveller!
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