ShradhaGiriblogs

Here is what I learned inside the classroom between grades 1-10 – reading and writing. Grades 11-12 are simply a blur. Here is what I learned outside my classrooms – effective communication, team building, sharing, making friends and being there for them when they needed us the most, watching each other’s back and learning to fend for one another. What kind of learning do we expect to happen for our own kids? Quiet frankly, until the pandemic led to the school closure, I worried if my daughter was learning enough. I know that sounds quite foolhardy. But then, I would hear my friends and colleagues talk about how smart their kids are and how far they have come in math and science and the many kinds of extra curricular activities their kids attend. I could not help but compare.   As a school administrator, I would scroll every school profile in social media and the list of extra activities never ending.   The collaborations with different organizations offering learning opti...

My precious Photo: Shradha Giri Last night my nine-year-old and I held hands and cried. We then laughed and then cried again. This isn’t something we normally do – our daughter, our precious one who was quiet for a change sat still, listened to what I had to say. The thing is, I have decided to change my career at this age and it is creating a ruckus which I didn’t think of earlier. I guess no one thinks through until the day one starts working on the decision. I decided a year and a half ago that I would invest in a school. Both my husband and I danced at the idea one idle weekend. We didn’t think of the distance - 500km. A year and a half spent running to banks, local ward office and to tax departments, the deal was done. Just like that with considerable amount of loan on my shoulders, I became a part of the system where I have always wanted to make a difference. I spent the past two weeks in my new role and I was baffled by what I observed (I also spent a few nights c...

The first time I saw a picture of vagina was when I was in grade three. The vaginas would always show up in our bathroom walls. Drawn with coal, often the pubic hair sprouting in every direction. I went to an all-girls boarding school and the only males we had in our school were cooks and bera dais. There was also this son of a housekeeper in charge and an unknown lunatic who would flash his nuts from the back of our dormitory which was situated right below the pine trees, occasionally. Of course, we never saw his face or the fact that he was never caught didn’t surprise me even back then. These were the kind of things I believe weren’t considered dangerous. I was too young to think about the perpetrator. I had never thought about those vaginas scrawling for almost three decades and suddenly I now realize that those drawings were in many ways the first kind of sexual assault for me or for my friends. I and my friends would stare at the scrawling quickly and never talk about it l...

‘I am older now’ is my go to mantra for everything wrong that happens in my life which I don’t bother to right it. Someone stupid said one fine day age is just a number and then people started falling for it. Age is a number plus its infinite principal. Last night I was asking my husband if he remembered when my upper arm joints had started hurting regularly. And he casually mentioned it must have been two years ago. With age, some parts of my body that I didn’t even know existed have started hurting a little more from all the wrong sides. I suffer from fibromyalgia. I also used to suffer from plantar fasciitis. The names of these diseases deeply bother my husband – not sure about the pain.   Last week was my birthday. A colleague sent a horoscope link and one of the lines read ‘cancer signs are so moody that even they don’t know when our mood changed’. Nothing to be proud here. I have also heard myself saying ‘15 years too late for social media’ and yet I hang around it lik...

Growing up in poverty sucks period. There isn’t any shade of hidden reliefs.   Last week I was in Gorkha and there I met an expecting couple; the wife is 19 and the husband is 21. This is the way here and in many villages of Nepal, opportunities get slimmer and slimmer as they age. Past 16 and all they can think of is earning descent. But that isn’t possible either. There are no jobs in the villages. Many people argue that if these youths were channeled to work the reconstruction jobs here at home which is happening at a snail’s pace they wouldn’t have to leave. But the fact is the government’s priority doesn’t lie in creating jobs. The youths will leave because their friends and cousins have tasted the freedom to earn much more and the exposure it brings along – none of the labor jobs in Nepal will suffice. The world is moving at a faster pace than we can imagine. The youths already dream of going abroad when their friends and relatives bring new flat screen TV and smar...

This year has been a lot about #metoo movement. Last month the women in US marched together in many states to raise underlying issues – issues that we have normalized. The unity of our gender calling for equal measures is a distant dream here in Nepal where we have yet to speak against sexual violence of all forms and equal pay for women. And then on the other side of the world we hear about this brave 17 yo Ahed snubbing #wtf to the Israeli soldiers resisting against years of injustice. Ahed in many ways reinstates that women are the stronger gender designed to withheld with infinite patience every injustice thrown at her. No, she isn’t the kind of empowered feminists from Hollywood the west decides to gallantly define what women’s courage looks like. Ahed is fighting for justice against oppression – for every person who have witnessed violence and bullying all their lives. I would have liked the women of Hollywood to bestow the same compassion and empathy they showered for Ma...

I work the 9 to 5 job so you would expect me to be ecstatic on the day my salary arrives. Nah. I get emotional and negative for the whole day still contemplating on why we pay taxes. Add up the salary tax, the car tax, the road tax, the home tax and the food tax. It’s appalling. With the amount I pay, I and you should have access to free education for our children and access to free quality health care. Although I kind of sucked at math in school, but when your hard earned money trickles down the drain I tend to add and subtract pretty good. A couple of week ago Nepalese witnessed the breakdown and chaotic Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) Association convention which led to the election of the new NRN President. The sight no doubt was chaotic but it also reminded me of the fight that broke in the parliament couple of years ago. The NRN’s complain regarding the systematic failures of doing clean business in Nepal yet they brandish the same image – their status, money and their change ...

Menstruation is a taboo. No one talks about it. Women do not openly purchase sanitary napkins. We pretend we don’t menstruate. We refrain from talking about our period at homes and at work places. I have always tried to reason with the stigma vis-à-vis the biological fact a female body goes through. Like how men have beards when they hit pubescent - girls bleed. What’s the big deal I repeat? Often, families and friends laud the teenage boys for sprouting one line moustache or a goatee. The boys are identified for being macho and finally a man. On the contrary, families hide their girls when they start their first period, ashamed when their bodies provide proof that the girl is perfectly healthy and normal. These young girls go on to believe that their bodies have betrayed them. They coax their bodies because suddenly it has made them impure. They can no longer mingle with the other sex openly; they must be mindful and often face exclusion from family functions. They are forced to a...

The memories of my childhood are so vivid that I often wonder if it is all a déjà vu. I remember the friends that came over to my house or the time when we went out diving in fish ponds, riding a buffalo and stealing rice with the sole purpose to sell and buy back candies.  A couple of weeks back I was in my hometown that lies two kilometers away from Birtamode in Jhapa – called Buttabari. Being out and about 12 hours a day was how I spent my vacation – a rare occasion for children these days. Happy were the days when I would ride my ‘hand me down’ (from my brothers) bicycles and ride with my best friend – our cook’s daughter who was known as Kanchi (common name for the youngest for a female child). Round about 20 years later and I often think about that friend. It kind of sucks that I never bothered to ask her name – her real name. Did she have one? Of course, she did. Because she went to school, I say to myself repeatedly. Last I heard, she had two kids and it’s been almos...

My dear daughter, you are only seven today but you will soon be seventeen. And when you become 17 I know the world will no longer be the same for you and I. We will be together in the same house but we will be distant apart in our heart and head. I was once 17 you know. And like everything else nothing is constant so before you grow up too fast I am writing a letter to you and the million other 17 year olds just like you. Love life - you are going to fall in love - hard. So hard that you are often dizzy with love. A love that is insignificant but withholds you from achieving all your dreams. Dreams that you dreamt when you were barely ten. Dreams that your parents dreamt for you when they first held you in their warm loving arms. Dreams that your mother dreamt for you when you were just a tadpole in her growing tummy. You are 17 and you have just graduated high school. At the verge of becoming an adult. You think you are big enough to make decisions and that you know the best f...

After a decade of updating my older smart phones with newer costlier ones only to loyally keep checking my Facebook page I decided to quit Facebook cold turkey - one fine day. I knew I would inevitably melt down with anxiety and hallucinations that I felt the urge to cling harder to my Instagram (sigh!). For a few days I wondered what those people who frequently showed up in my wall were up to? Did they attend another party? Did they meet secretly at first and announce in their wall about their meetings with their few favorite people. Did someone just flip and suddenly decide to rant about their loved ones? Or did they just give up on everything and started uploading selfies every two hours. Funnily (and sadly) I realized I cared less. And that how little anyone else cared about my life displayed shamelessly in their walls sans their consent.  A day later the thought of a digital companion whom I followed so closely for the last ten years didn’t seem to matter anymore. The pe...

I know I complain about everything that happens in Nepal. Small things matter right? I read a blog about a Nepali man’s frustration over how Nepalese wait patiently in international airports and behave all goody good and when in Nepal immediately try out some stunts to move ahead of the line. What is wrong with us I reason. Well nothing I reason back. Is it our culture that makes us so unruly and egoistic that we take extra care to follow all the rules and regulations in a foreign land but then slack and attack and abuse all of our own? A week back I went to a bakery in Jawalakhel to order a birthday cake for my daughter who turned seven L and while I was there for approximately 20 minutes the owner (male) would not even look at me and his wife kept on chewing on the diced fruit from the counter. Occasionally the male would munch on it too. They wouldn’t appreciate the fact that I was doing business with them and that the monetary gain was all theirs. No its not Herman they hav...

The importance of being Ernest, 1995 This morning I checked out a book titled ‘The Emperor’s Clothes’ for my 6-year-old. I remembered an old school play our juniors had performed. I wasn’t a part of the drama (told you I was a late bloomer check my senior school play pic ;)) but I couldn’t wait to see how our school would dress the naked emperor. Obvious it was a skin colored body suit. Duh! And then move forward 20 years and here we are in 2016 still reading news about how women should dress up. The burkini in France created quite a stir and then the Tourism Minister in India came up with a wittier way to combat rape in India – women should not wear skirts especially the foreign women. Remember one of the televised US election coverage where Elizabeth Warren and Hillary Clinton shared the stage. Ninety-five percent of the coverage was about how these two ladies dressed up similar in sky blue shirts and trousers forget that both these powerful women talked about women empowe...

Yesterday was one of the most awkward lunches I have ever had. You all know it was Teej and here I was tagging along with my husband and my 6-year-old to the famous KFC in Durbarmarg. Well the place isn’t for vegetarians it’s after all famous for fried chicken. I was the only other female present in the entire restaurant besides the employees. The other lady dressed casually in a red salwar suit sat with her male companion but she refrained from eating. And there I was chowing down the famous zinger (only wishing they had the spicy one too) kind of awkward. I had like zillion thoughts in my head running thinking wondering what the guard and the employees of KFC thought about serving me chicken in Teej while the rest of female longed for the day to end. Majority of women observe fast on this day to exclusively lengthen their husband’s lives. I have reasoned many a nights thinking how my lifestyle choices affect my husband’s health and life. Thinking aloud that I would run a 100 miles...

Let me say this first. I was a late bloomer. I had my first period when I was 14 years old while almost all my friends had had their periods when they were barely 11. So while these girls bled, while these girls complained of having to change their pads in the coldest nights of Kurseong I prayed for my own periods to show up as fast as possible. By the time I had my periods I was about to sit for my 8 th grade final examinations. You can imagine my excitement. I knew the rituals to precision. I walked to the dormitory and announced the big news. The finals were over and it was time for winter vacation.   During the vacation one fine day my periods showed up. So when my sister and my mom learned the news I thought I would be taken care of and loved. I had no idea they would pack my bags and send me to my elder sister’s house because traditionally I wasn’t allowed to see my father or my brothers. So there I was living with my elder sister who of course was kind enough to treat...

You're imperfect, and you're wired for struggle,  but YOU ARE WORTHY of love AND belonging - Brene Brown A few years ago one of my female colleagues stated she feels left out in her husband’s home because no one consults her. Decisions are made and that’s it. Obvious for her to feel that way, she being the eldest child looking after her younger brother and helping her mom and dad to run errands, she owned her responsibility duly or naturally transferred to her. She enjoyed the responsibilities, she felt wanted and she felt important. I wasn’t as lucky as my colleague who enjoyed the responsibility in her maternal home because being the youngest child I felt left out. I know my husband who is also the youngest shares the same feeling because decisions are made and we have no clue what the hell is happening. My husband and I were both leaders in our schools, our friends value our opinion (I hope they do), we may or may not be raising our 6 year old appropriately...

Have you ever wondered what happens to all the communication and marketing materials the INGOs and other development agencies produce? I have been working in the communication field for the past 9 years and sadly the materials produced do not have a long shelf life. Often times when an organization is awarded a brand new project there is a whole lot of excitement. As the focal communication person I often collaborate with the program team to develop a communication plan for the new project. The budget has been allocated. The target audiences have been defined in the project document and we are all set to go. So we sit with the team and develop a communication plan. All the team members come up with excellent ideas – brochure, short videos, posters, animated videos, programs on FM and TV. These are all great materials to communicate about the project and its progress during and after the implementation. We make plans to spend thousands of dollars and ensure each and every proj...