...Jeep part II

[NaNoWriMo Day 3]

[Warning: This is poorly written and completely unedited. I just want to get a novel written soon.]

"Oh, by the looks of it, you don't look like an extremist? Or were you one of the victims during the war," he asked, cognizant of the dangerous minefield he was heading into.

"No, no, nothing like that. I used to be a communist voter too. I voted for the united party in three elections. But once they all joined together, there wasn't anything. If they were all going to join together, what was the entire drama and the killings for. They should just have agreed to divide up the country and rob it amongst themselves, without the killings. Even till much later, I thought they were going to do something good, but they gave up on everything after joining," she said.

A skinny guy with a T-shirt and glasses on, who had been sitting quietly spoke up before everyone else. "They're saying that after unity, now they are more powerful, they can serve the country better because they won't be fighting amongst themseves to be in that," he said, his voice quivering. Raul wanted to ask him which college in Kathmandu he went to, but refrained.

The driver shot back, "NO no, it's just to trick us. If division was the problem, why did they divide to begin with? They said when they divided that it would be good for the public because there were more options. Now that they are uniting, they say it's good for the public because they aren't fighting for power. Which one's a lie, and which one's the truth, and what are we to believe? They think we are monkeys, and they can make us dance like we are in circus. They have turned the contry into a circus, I say that even though I voted for them" he said, his voice rising.

There was a sudden silece in the jeep.

"With all that, you would think at least Congressis would do something good. But they don't have time from all the robbing and scandals," said a new voice, from a man sitting next to the woman from Dolakha. "They are all the same. Only difference is if they are your thieves or our thieves, that's the only difference," he said. The vehicle burst into laughter.

"There's seems to be a lot of anger towards politicians in Nepal, right," Rahul said, quietly.

"We've been in the same place for the past seventy years, what are we to do. They say at that time China was more backward than us, and look where they are now, sending people to the moon. Even India has moved forwards. And our biggest achievement is comparing who has become the richest by robbing us," the driver said.

Raul felt tired. He had been in this very conversation had happened hundreds of times. It was all the more frustrating because he wanted to tell people that he was getting into politics too, and that he would change. He had learned not to.

Once, he had proudly segued a similar conversation into his interst in getting politics. "Now you're like one of us, but once you get drunk on power, you will be one of them too. Everyone's the same, all of them. Good people won't survive, and others turn into the same old leaders," a woman with two teenage daughters sitting next two her had told him, point blank. "I want the country to do well too, but I don't want my daughters to end up like that. This is not an honest person's place to be. Which is why I'm sending my daughters abroad, so that they can study and work an honest life. And some day, get us to migrate there too, " she had said laughing. Her daughters had watched the floor of the Tempo with great interest throughout.

"It's because of frustrations like these that people send their kids abroad. Most of you must have at least one family member working outside," Raul said, trying to turn the conversation somewhere he was more comfortable.

"Two sons and their wives and three grandchildren are outside. One lives in Australia, other one, he is in Japan now. He says it's better in America, so he is trying to go to America. It's just us old people in the house. They do come once in a year, but it's not like those days. Other peoples' children come after many years, so it's not difficult for us," the older man in Dhaka topi said.

"Oh, is America better these days? I'm trying to go out to study, but they say it's not as easy in America these days, do you know?" said the spectacled college student next to Raul.

"Khoi babu, I don't understand these things, but he said Japan is difficult, the language is hard, and good work is hard to find. In America there are more Nepalis, and you can find a job anyhow. People find jobs that pay a lot immediately after landing too, it's not like that in Japan, says my son. Young people like you must know these things more than I do. I just talk to my sons, and listen to the news, I don't know too much, " the topi-wearer replied.

Television and newspaper news had become strange, Raul had noticed. They covered either core political news, or news of Nepali diaspora. Any news beyond that was non-existent. He had tried looking into news archives to create a economic policy paper for the elections. The promulgation and implementation of even landmark bills barely got a couple of paragraphs in the Economy pages. Rather, they were covered by full-page advertisements of motorbikes, and barely-modified press-releases on the number of cars and bikes and shoes sold. Besides the ads for the consumer goods, the papers were mostly covered in pieces explaining where to go to work, or study, and how to apply, and get good SAT scores. The entire mass media was actively facilitating and encouraging people to get out of the country, for any reason.