Written by Kilani
In Portland it’s common for you to hear someone complain that everybody knows everybody and in some ways it’s true. During my time in Chokati I often found myself wondering what it was like to truly know the lives of everyone around you or to spend the majority of your life within the same small area. As different as Chokati was to my usual routine I found I felt the most at peace there. In the beginning of my stay I sprained my ankle and had to come to terms with the fact that working on the farm or exploring the mountains would not be how I occupied my time. Instead, I spent my free time finding joys in the things I could access by my house. My favorite pastime was sitting on my roof, taking in the views that the people of Chokati experienced every day. The mountains (in Nepal they’re considered to be hills) were gorgeous and engulfed the village in a way that seemed otherworldly. The sky often felt close enough to touch sometimes bright and blue other times gray with clouds that moved through the mountains. At dinner my aamaa (mother) and bahini (little sister) would laugh as I leaned out of our doorway to glance at the stars that outlined the mountains. In the morning the breezes were soft and aside from laughing children and calls to a neighbor, chokati was quiet. I realized at some point people in Chokati probably didn’t wake up every morning enchanted by their home like I was. I too rarely felt amazed by my home. I was often too distracted or bored to spend much time taking in my surroundings. I was constantly reminding myself to be grateful for the places I enjoyed. Growing up I had a strong dislike for my hometown, and even though I still wish to leave I find that I’m most comforted when I’m reminded of home. In the mornings when I left my bedroom I would stop to take in the clean air which reminded me of my childhood neighborhood. The streams we past on small hikes reminded me of the rivers I swim at every summer. Sometimes I found myself searching for Samantha, who came with me from Portland, knowing she’d also have the same thought of home. There are many things in Chokati that I grew to love and miss. My aamaa laughing at me whenever I said Dhanyabad (thank you), because people don’t say it as consistently as we do. The children who came to collect my group for volleyball everyday. Tea in the morning. The intensity of rain and thunder now that monsoon season is close. It’s now been three days since leaving Chokati. I’m happy to have soft beds and the flat pavement is much kinder to my ankle but I have a lot of love for the time I spent there and a new love for my home too.
