Tomorrow is our last day in Chokati. I can’t wait to begin our Maha Trek in a few days, but lately I’ve been thinking about the things I’m going to miss from our stay in Chokati.
I love waking up to the sight of the sun rising over the fog-laden hills through my window, and being poured a warm cup of milk (fresh out of our family cow) with breakfast by my Aama.
I’ve had the chance to try out village trades, from blacksmithing to mudhouse construction to bamboo mat weaving. I’ve cut cardamom stems with my Aama, and lost countless hands of cards to my Baa. I’ve spent time with my little brothers, Sunil and Subharna, practicing my Nepali and watching cartoons and Bollywood musicals.
I’ve come to look forward to dinnertime, when the family sits around the fire on straw mats, and I attempt to scoop the never-ending stream of daal bhat and tarkari into my mouth with my hands. I know I’ll miss the moments I spend on the stone roof, reading or writing with the sounds of the village and the stepped hillsides all around me.
Over the past two weeks, Chokati has become a place where I feel at home.
(The pictures are – us learning from the blacksmith and me milking the cow!)