The Snackmandu Vending Company

June 26, 2014June 27, 2014 / wrightsolution / 4 Comments

The Daily Prompt: The Need Machine. Soft drinks, electronics, nutrient-free snacks — you can get all of those from a vending machine. But what type of vending machine is sorely needed but doesn’t yet exist?

I can’t really think of a vending machine that doesn’t already exist for something I need. Vending machines haven’t been a part of my life for a very long time. Perhaps I should try to be creative and imagine a machine that could dispatch smiles or good fortune…but the creativity wheels just aren’t turning.

But I can remember a time back in the 1970s when they first installed one at my school, and we loved it! It was so sophisticated and exciting to put your money in, excitedly choose, press the right series of keys, and watch it deliver some delicious morsel with a satisfying clunk into the bottom drawer. Why was it so much more fun to feed the machine then to stop in the sweet shop on the way home for exactly the same thing? But we loved it, anyway! I can remember buying bags and bags of Disco crisps every week to collect the tokens from the packets. Six tokens got you top pop hits like the Bay City Rollers on a 45. All you had to do was post them in with an SAE. (That’s a stamped addressed envelope for the post-internet crowd.) What you got back was a cheap, flimsy disc that was nothing like the singles we bought every Saturday from Woolworth’s….but it was so exciting to just get something in the post with your name on it.

Flash forward 35 years here in Nepal, and I can say with confidence that there can’t be one single vending machine in the whole country. They would be a spectacular disaster in so many ways! Where to even begin?! Here are just some of the challenges the Snackmandu Vending Company PVT would have to tackle:

There are no coins, except tiny, tiny amounts that are fractions of a rupee and completely useless. You would have to use notes, which are the only real currency here and they are very old, very dirty and extremely crumpled. They would never be accepted by already overly finicky vending machine slots.
Imagine a vending machine in a place where there are constant power cuts. Cold or hot thermostat settings without electricity would mean a world of warm coke and sweaty sandwiches. You, the thirsty customer, would hear the heavy thud of disconnected power just as your money leaves your fingers. The machine would swallow your cash and you–and your expectations– would be left in the dark. Good luck getting that refund!
Vending machines require maintenance. They need to be filled, cleaned, oiled and serviced. Not here. The distribution lines from India sometimes supply… sometimes not… This week we have diet coke.,,,next week…not so much. The machines would be filled if and when… and maintained even less. As a temporary measure, someone creative would fix the broken vending machine with a rubber band and a bit of hose, where it would stay permanently until it, too, broke.
And last, but by no means least, is the truth that nothing here is ready to be automated and vendors (real human ones) are the life blood of this city. Vending machines in Kathmandu are the guys that sit on street corners every day.

So perhaps to go back to my earlier thought of a futuristic machine that could sell anything… perhaps that vending machine could dispatch the elusive silver bullets that never seem to exist to solve problems here. A machine that dispatched problem-solving bullets that could cure poverty, corruption and social injustice…maybe it should be solar-powered, though?!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Between

June 24, 2014June 24, 2014 / wrightsolution / 7 Comments

There’s no better place in the world to fall asleep than between mom and dad. Even in Kathmandu traffic!

This post participated in the Daily Post’s Weekly Challenge: Between

The Inch War

June 15, 2014June 15, 2014 / wrightsolution / Leave a comment

I had 60 metres of waterproof material to make 12 flags for work, and no one to sew them. What I needed was simple, but not so obvious to find in Kathmandu, where there’s a sewing machine on every corner with only a cramped sidewalk sewing patch, with no place to sew 60 metres of fabric without dragging it in the street gutter. I needed an inside location with a work table and a little space. I needed an ally who could translate the project in to Nepali and, most of all, I needed a tailor who could reliably follow directions. It was going to be challenging.

The good news was that there was a sewing place just around the corner from work and accompanied by two helpful Nepali women with great English, we headed two minutes up the road to check it out. The flags were very simple to make, but it was important they were made to the correct dimensions and would all be the same size on completion. I was armed with a small sewn mock-up, marked with finished measurements and velcro points so that what I wanted would be as clear as possible. Both ladies had asked me questions in advance and were really clear on what was needed. I was feeling optimistic that we could pull this off.

Two seamstresses worked inside the small tailor shop on small pedal-powered sewing machines while we waited for the guy to show up. They very kindly let me have the only spare stool to wait, and my eyes strayed around the room. The cutting table was very small and more of a storage table, so there was nowhere to really cut and handle so much fabric except the floor, which was covered in off cuts and sewing debris from probably months of work. I was starting to doubt whether this was the right place. It’s not uncommon to see people working in messy environments and its hard for me to handle. Why wouldn’t you simply sweep up your own mess when you’ve finished? It so much easier to work fast and efficiently and cleanly when you’re not tripping over your own mess.

The confusing thing about buying fabric here is how imperial and metric systems are mixed together. I bought 60 meters of 60 inch wide fabric, and then had to decide which system to use to calculate measurements. I advised to do everything in metric, so I converted the 7ft drop to 2.2 meters and decided on a 1 meter width.

The guy showed up and I greeted him with “Namaste”. He didn’t return the greeting or even acknowledge me, and my helpers started the conversation in Nepali. (I’ve seen this attitude before. I’m not sure what the mindset is behind it, but if you want to tick me off…that’s a good start.)

They picked the 10 meter length of purple fabric to talk about the construction requirements. They showed him the sample, but he didn’t really look at it. He wanted to be shown. Each finished flag needed to be 2.2 meters long. For the next 15 minutes or so, there was much discussion and measuring. He was making me nervous as he kept measuring the fabric with a inch tape measure, and, as I needed the sizes to be accurate (and not just estimated), this was not boding well. Then I noticed that the tape measure had been cut off at the 39″ mark. He had converted a imperial tape measure into a “meter stick.” It was useful for measuring meters, but nothing else. What’s more it already had metric marks on the other side of the tape, but these were useless as the first part of the metric side had been cut off to “convert” it to a meter length. Jeez…ok.

The fabric was lain on the floor, over all the mess, and he started measuring the length. Measuring 2 meters was easy. More difficult was how to do the .2 measurement. I could see that he wasn’t clear that is meant 20 centimeters, and I tried to explain that if he flipped it over and measured a 20cm span from, say, the 60 cm mark to the 80cm mark, he would have the measurement. But that wasn’t going over, so it suddenly seemed so much to easier to switch to inches. “Let’s make it 86 inches long”, I declared, knowing that complete accuracy of the length was less important than having all the flags be completely consistent in length. Things got easier from there.

Next he went from testing the fabric on his machine (will that kind of fabric sew properly?), to cutting, and then actually completing all stages needed to finish the first flag. I did not expect this. It took three hours. At no point was the construction unsupervised. The mock-up had served its purpose by showing my friends what was needed. But he needed them to translate the mock-up. Each time he folded and repositioned the fabric he had three people holding material in place to stop it slipping. I asked if perhaps he had any pins? No, no pins. I sent my driver out to buy them. When they arrived he refused to use them. I don’t know how he’s going to sew the next 11 flags without people standing there to hold the fabric. Perhaps he will use them after I leave?!

The next 7 flags are due for pick up tomorrow. Fingers crossed. Watch this space!

The Sound of Screeching Brakes

June 14, 2014 / wrightsolution / 8 Comments

We’re midway through June and this is just my second post this month. Suddenly, after months of regular blogging, I am struggling to put finger to key and tell stories ….and there’s a reason.

It’s not like there’s nothing going on. Our son is here, we’ve been on trips, picnics and all kinds of work-related travel. I have stories from the farm and mountains. Life is good. But somehow I can’t bring myself to put any of them out. I’ve discovered that with blogging I get caught in some kind of road block of my own invention and its not “writers block” but something quite different. Its more like hitting a wall, where the wall is the reality that my blog no longer gives a balanced representation of what’s going on in my life, and only showing pictures of adventures with elephants no longer cuts it. The larger social issues I see daily feel too enormous to cover in my little blog, so I leave them untouched like the 2 ton elephant in the room (pun reference intended.)

I have reached a point in our time here in Nepal where things are no longer new. I’ve discovered the basics and I know enough about life here to know how much I don’t know on a deeper level. I’ve been here 10 months straight and I’m ready for a break. I’m tired of the overwhelming, endless social problems, worsening pollution, incessant noise, honking of car horns, and just the lack of basic sanitation.

I have mediocrity fatigue. I want something to work without coercion. I’m tired of apologizing for my own elevated living conditions and concentrating on being grateful for what I have compared to most everyone else here, where this is all normal. This isn’t normal for me. Toilets here stink, there’s dog shit everywhere, and I’m sick of the garbage. I can’t walk the streets without fear of twisting my ankle, being run over, or treading in something nasty. I just need to feel my own exhaustion at the mayhem, take advantage of the fact that I can recharge, and admit that sometimes all of this just drives me nuts. There….. I said it. And now it feels more honest to move on to the things that are beautiful and special here – and there are many. Roadblock removed….at least for now.

Carry!

May 29, 2014May 29, 2014 / wrightsolution / Leave a comment

Moving stuff around in Nepal happens on the streets right in front of your face, all day. Its not that it doesn’t happen in other places of course, but here there are less trucks and more individual sellers, all independently trying to get their goods from A to B any way they can. If you can’t afford a truck or don’t even have a bike, then you get to carry things by foot….which is how most people get things done. So, the traditional “dokos” or cone-shaped baskets are ubiquitous here. Everywhere you look they are either being sold or used, secured to the carrier with a very painful looking headstrap. I have watched tiny woman carry loads this way that look twice their size and three times their body weight. They look like ants carrying impossibly large loads.

The load-bearing cyclists are everywhere too. I did an post a while back on the Nepalese trusty bicycle, and they still grab my attention on a daily basis today.

the broom bike guy

Or there’s the head-basket method that I see in the rural areas, especially in the South. Its mostly women carrying laundry loads or small items for sale on their heads with only a mat or straw for padding, which levels their loads and helps protects their heads from the strain of the heavy, precariously-balanced weight. And they are very good at it!

h too. At Pashnupati temple, family pallbearers carry the deceased to tfuneral

Life is always on display here…and death too. At Pashnupati temple, family pallbearers carry the deceased to the funeral pyre.

..and last – but by no means least – had to include this little guy! Carrying, monkey momma style!

This post participated in A Word in Your Ear’s, A Word a Week Challenge: Carry

A Word a Week Photo Challenge: Watch

May 4, 2014 / wrightsolution / 2 Comments

Kathmandu school kids watch a concert by an American eco-rock band….but the party really gets started when they play a few Nepalese folk songs. Then the audience gets up to dance and we are watching them…great fun! For the full story see Power of the Sun.

This post participated in A Word a Week Photography Challenge: Watch

Daily Prompt: Worst Case Scenario

May 3, 2014October 16, 2014 / wrightsolution / Leave a comment

I’m ready for work but my driver hasn’t shown because some big wig minister is driving through town and the police have blocked some of the roads. This has made him late, and now its going to slow down our drive to work too, making me even later. We sit in traffic behind buses belching black smoke, and arrogant motorcycles honk their horns and menacingly weave around us, pushing to the front of the jam. An almost useless traffic cop does a half-hearted job of controlling the traffic (there are no traffic lights) and finally its our turn to move. Except we can’t go anywhere until over 100 motorcycles (blocking both lanes now) unjam themselves from the chaos at the front of the line. It takes way too long and we almost don’t make it through. But we move forward on his last wave and turn on to the dust and bumps of what should be the main road. It is still unpaved. For the last three months we’ve been tripping on the dug up road, and last night it rained and the street is a sea of mud and puddles. The street-widening project now just feels like street obliteration. There’s nowhere for pedestrians to walk or drivers to drive. It just straight mess.

As we pull up, I’m realize that I’m wearing the wrong shoes. Yes, I know heels are a bad idea, but flats look awful with this outfit, and I didn’t stop to think about the consequences of the rain. Jumping over massive holes where the curb should be, I skid on muddy gravel and twist my ankle, getting mud on my clothes and shoes. I arrive to work late and muddy. It is only 8.30am and I’m already pissed off. I’m also cold because, in my mad late frenzy, I forgot my jacket. No-one’s turned the heating on properly. A cup of coffee would warm and cheer me up, but the cappuccino machine is not working and they are only serving that Nescafe crap…..

First world problems, are trivial inconveniences that the developed world bemoans, but developing countries only wish they could have the luxury of experiencing. They’ve been the butt of many jokes recently, as complainers are ridiculed for an over-inflated sense of entitlement and blatant ignorance of the plight of others. Yet, its an easy mindset to fall into, especially living in the developing world when, on some days, my worst case scenarios are fueled by my first world expectations for how things should be, not how they are.

First world problems in a third world country truly takes the message to a new level. The mental challenges of handling frustrating experiences here means walking a line between trying to remember (at least most of the time) how privileged my life is compared to so many, and yet reserving the right to complain (at least a little) for the sake of my own sanity. Plus not complaining sometimes just feels like acquiescence to something that is just plain wrong. And hats off to those that do more than complain, who generate higher expectations and elicit positive contributions from others, so that — little by little – Kathmandu becomes a healthier, cleaner place to live. For their sakes, I’ll try and keep my first world problems down to a minimum.

This blog post is a participant in the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Worst Case Scenario

A Word a Week Photo Challenge: Water

April 27, 2014 / wrightsolution / 2 Comments

Lining up at the community water fountain, in the shade of Patan Royal Palace, Patan Dhurba Square, Kathmandu

Patan Dhurba Square has some of the most stunning architectural in Nepal. From Patan museum’s bell tower, looking down from intricate handcarved wooden windows, you don’t just see preserved heritage, but also everyday life. Most people don’t have running water and lining up at the water fountain in a daily routine. Don’t forget to fill them all the way up!

This post participated in the A Word a Week Photo Challenge: Water

Pet Peeves

March 31, 2014January 3, 2015 / wrightsolution / 17 Comments

Cartoon Credit: http://grooverpr.wordpress.com/2014/02/03/prca-2330-topic-of-the-week-pet-peeves/

Pet peeves are a ridiculous thing. We know that, but we continue to nurture and feed them anyway. I don’t have universal pet peeves for everywhere like bad grammar or rude language (well, maybe chewing with your mouth closed)… but mostly mine are country specific!

Nepal: I start with my absolute major peeve at this point in time: spitting. Do I ever hate it that people spit here! OMG! Sometimes I’ll be walking down the street, quietly minding my own business and before I can turn my head fast enough, there comes the sound of someone hacking deeply–all the way down from their toes– as they deliver a disgusting, ugly splat of phlegm just inches from my feet. And as I turn my head to the other side in disgust, yet another person –with horrendously perfect timing–hangs another, equally loud and disgusting. There is no escape!

Philippines: Manila is full of zebra crossings, or pedestrian crossings if you prefer. Unfortunately in Manila, I couldn’t help feeling they serve only to spruce up the city a little, make it look more modern. Decoration, if you will. They certainly serve no function. (Kathmandu at least has the good sense not to even bother wasting the paint.) In Manila, they are like death traps for expats who have the deluded notion that when you step out onto one cars will stop. I found myself drawn to them out of habit and then felt utterly frustrated when drivers would seem to speed up as I used them to cross the street.

UK: “Sorry! I’m so sorry to bother you, but this microwave you sold me doesn’t work. I’m really, really sorry to make a fuss, but would you possibly consider replacing it with a new one?!” Why do the British feel the need to apologize profusely for everything, even when something is clearly not their fault, even when they have been more than put out by someone else. When I go back to the UK and complain about something – people look at me aghast that I haven’t gone through this ritual. I’m not rude. But I am direct. “This microwave doesn’t work. I’d like it replaced please.” What’s wrong with that?

US: Last week, on a Nepalese airport transit bus from the terminal to the plane, I sat with a group of about 20 young trekkers from all over the world. The bus was crowded and uncomfortable, and as we all sat there tolerating the jolts and jostling, a young American guy told his friends in very loud detail about his adventures the previous day. Finally someone said, “Speak up a bit, John, the people at the front are complaining they can’t hear you!” It did actually shut him up for a while, and it made me realize how much he had added to the discomfort of the situation. Dear loud Americans, cliched or not, please stop. We don’t want to hear it.

So sorry dear Nepalese, Filipino, British and American friends and readers of my blog. I do usually try and focus on the positive…really I do. But just occasionally, I think I deserve a rant as much as the next person. And I’m sure its not you that spits/drives badly/over apologizes/or arrogantly takes over every conversation. Its the other guy! ;o)

This post participated in the Daily Prompt:She Drives Me Crazy!

Here are some other pet peeves:

Weekly Photo Challenge: Street Life

March 29, 2014 / wrightsolution / 16 Comments

March 2014. Bhaktapur, Nepal

The street is cleared at the end of the day, as an old lady picks up the pots that have spent the day drying in the sun alongside parked cars and motorbikes. Here the pottery is still spun by hand on a stone wheel and baked in fire kilns.