My Name is Nadi
Mero naam Nadi ho.
My name is Nadi. In Nepali, it means river. It is a wonderful tradition that many Peace Corps Volunteers take on a Nepali name. We are named by our families, friends, teachers, or ourselves. After learning about my passion for river ecosystems, my friend Kisan suggested Nadi, and it stuck.
(Nadi in Nepali script)
Nadi has replaced the name that my family originally gave me, which was Tulo Nani, or big little girl. As cute as Tulo Nani is, and as fun as it is watching my aama (mama) crack up every time she called me that, I am an adult, and enjoy an adult name. But, who is Nadi? Nadi, according to my aama when she introduces me to her friends, is her daughter who doesn’t like sugar and meat, really loves spinach, only eats a little bit of rice, and cried when the dog fell off the roof. This actually is how my aama describes me to people I meet for the first time, however, I want to share more about what Nadi in Nepal is like. As Nadi, I wake with the sun at 5:00am to do yoga, study, or run. My running route takes me over a hanging bridge that is well constructed, but still bounces wildly when more than one person crosses at a time. I then follow an open irrigation cannel that is surrounded by terraced fields. These fields used to be filled with potato (alu) plants, but with the coming monsoon season, women, men, and children have been harvesting alu and planting rice. Now in the mornings, the smog induced red sunrise reflects off the irrigated rice paddies, and the entire landscape looks as though it’s on fire.
As Nadi, I sit with my didi (sister in Nepali) and drink tea for breakfast. We chat about what time I will be back from class and what crazy amount of field and around-the-house work she will do that day. Two times a day, I eat veggies, daal (lentils), and bhaat (rice) with my right hand, while fending off my aama as she tries to sneak seconds and thirds onto my plate. I am only allowed to wash my own plates, but sometimes I can discretely wash a few more so my didi doesn’t have to do them all herself. As Nadi, I “help” my didi milk the cow by holding a light for her to see by. It is one of my favorite times when the two of us sit together in the ripe-smelling shed with a patient mama cow and goats that try and eat my cloths. Sometimes we talk, and sometimes we just think our own thoughts. As Nadi, I wear bright blue and yellow kurtas. For the equivalent of $4.50 USD I can walk into a fabric shop, choose from one of the hundreds of bright colors, and then have my clothing tailored to fit me. By the neighbors, I am teased in a friendly way for how tall I am as they watch the tailor having stretch to measure my shoulders.
(Blue flower Kurta...Plus Paul)