The New Kids (and the old ones too)

Dedicated: to the ‘new’ kids… I never knew I’d grow so fond of y’all.

I remember writing in my previous entry (A tribute to a friend: COOOL FOOOL http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2006/11/30/still-have-nothing-to-say/#more-21) that ’I  don’t want to get to the point of saturation too soon for any one of  my new friends no offence.’ Today I feel I should write about you people, all of you. Here goes. Please read the whole thing.

It’s been nearly 10 months that I went to school to see more new faces than familiar faces. ‘70 students’; I remember gasping. I was wondering why I felt scared and nervous at my own school. And then came the introductions- starting with people who ‘my friends’ (don’t take this term otherwise- it’s under quotation marks) knew, I was getting introduced to so many new names and new faces, most of whom I could not remember. I remember picking up little pieces of colored cards with our names on it, and sitting in groups according to the color of the card. I remember trying to make everyone feel comfortable.

I agree you guys had a lot of insecurities- naturally, in a new place. But somehow ‘we’ (the old students) had some too. We feared being overpowered, and we feared that the link we had would fade away because we would all be making new friends. We were also hoping- fingers (and toes) crossed, that you’d be nice people. Thank goodness, our wish was granted.

The Life of Maichyang: Recent updates

Maichyang is lost under a pile of work.

‘Read these 57 pages for homework. Sure’ ‘Read obedience. I will ask you questions in the next class.’ ‘The summary is due tomorrow, the essay is for Monday, and you guys should start working on your character bubbles. Your wish is my command’ ‘When you submit homework late, you are being disrespectful to the teacher. The teachers are putting in more than they are required to because they love their work and care about you. No matter how much you pay, you will not get teachers as good as the ones you currently have. Great motivation they get… really. I wonder how… maybe because they’re paid to work. Maybe the school should start paying us for doing our homework. I’d love that.’ ‘Your grades are slipping. My grades don’t wear shoes that have grip.’ ‘Sometime this week I will give you a test.’ ‘Math test on Wednesday. Thanks.’ ‘You’ve failed this test, and I don’t want the same thing to happen again. Neither do I, thanks.’ ‘What number have you finished until? 5? That was how much you did in class. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Apparently, No.’ ‘You people at the corner there… don’t make noise here… This is the library. Oh ya… I know. Sorry, forgot.’ ‘Start thinking about your college applications. Do you want a year off? What do you want to study? Where? I wish I knew.’ ‘Aim for all A’s. You can do it. I believe in you. Ya, I believe in myself too. Unlike God, I am a physical entity and seeing is believing’

Maichyang’s life has been lost inside words spoken by teachers who wonder what the hell happened to her and her hopeful parents. She knows she is not responding rationally (in her head- she never satires aloud at what they say) but she can’t stop the evil thing in her head trying to make her a bad girl.

My Grandmother, Mother and Me: Three Generations of Women

Three things prompted me to write this. One, the book I’m currently reading, ‘The Opposite of Fate’ by Amy Tan. Two, The poem ‘Where I come from’ by Elizabeth Brewster that we were studying the other day at school, and Three, the (late) realization that today is International Women’s Day. Tan’s collection of recollections focuses on her life, and mostly on how her mother influenced her, sometimes in ways Tan didn’t know she was being, or could be, influenced. The poem was about how places make people, as it first line ‘People are made of places’ states. While we were discussing the poem, and as I listened to Miss Perry talking about the place her grandmother lived in, I was scraping nail polish off my finger nails, and thinking about the place my grandparents live in. My thoughts (and the coarse un-moisturized skin on the back of my hand) led me to thinking about how my grandmothers didn’t have clear nail polish and moisturizer to apply when they were teenagers, and how they never had the time to fall in love. (Reminder: I seriously have nothing against my grandfathers, or my father for that matter. All three of the above-mentioned men are people I love and respect a lot)

As is the case with many of us Nepalis, (I don’t know a single non-Nepali who reads my blog) I am closer to my paternal grandmother than I am to my maternal grandmother. Don’t get me wrong, I love the both of them equally. A number of factors, including that I live in a patriarchal society and we go to my paternal grandparents’ place more than to my maternal grandparents’ place, have made me closer to my paternal grandparents. My maternal grandparents do not stay over at our place when they come to Katmandu because they still believe that ‘eating the daughter’s husband’s property’ is bad. It is not my mother’s ‘duty’ to take care of her parents like it is that of her brothers. In fact, neither her parents nor her brothers will be too happy if she says she want her old parents to live with her. My father, on the other hand, has to (and wants to, at the same time) take care of his parents. As the oldest son, he doesn’t just get to do that, he is expected to.

If you ask my maternal grandfather to name one of his grand daughters, he will probably name my uncle’s daughter (I’m not sure about what my grandmother will say.) That’s the difference. But I’m not set out to explain that today. Today I will tell you of three women in different stages of life: my grandmother, my mother and me.

Starting New

Sorry for not writing for so often. As guilty as I am, I DO hope you (my readers) missed me, or at least noticed my absence, because for a writer (however amaeur) that is important (not being missed- being loved).

Now for the title- it’s not that my past is so bad I have to forget it… Not that I’ve made decisions I really regret either. I just want to start new. After going through two failures (they weren’t al that big, but I don’t know what else I should call them) because of external factors (i mean factors other than my performance. My performance was okay (good even. good enough for mr to be confident) in both instances) in the past three weeks, I ended up in my room on Sunday, talking to PD on the phone, feeling like it wasn’t any point to work for anything in the world.

PD, of course, did not agree. Being a winner, (although I am a loser either) she could understand that I had done well, but being the best was not in my power, because I could in no way control the performances of others with whom I was being compared. So I dedicated today to spending time for myself. Changing the sheets was a treat, because I had to do no (or little) thinking to execute the actions well.

School starts tomorrow (again). I just have to promise myself to work harder and do ALL my work on time. Then my dreams won’t be too far away. Just so you know, I have BIG dreams. Dreams that would seem unattainable to nearly all other people. I also have the big picture planned. I know exactly what I want 5 years down the line, 10, 15. I figured (after these two events) that knowing where you want to be isn’t enough. You have to know how to get there, and work for it.

Not that I didn’t work for these two things (competitions?). I did. But I guess sometimes it doesn’t pay. There was this saying my dad read out to me- it went something like this- Plant four seeds. ‘One for the rock, one for the crow, one to die, and one to grow’. I will not let any more of my seeds to die. Or I will just have to plant more than I need.  

Promising to write more frequently,
Maichyang