When I first joined the Book Bus as a part of the Creative Educators Program (CEP) in 2022, one of the things that stuck with me was the tales from the senior instructors. Late-night stories and classroom experiences during the out of the valley Book Bus trips. Seeing their eyes shine with joy made me want to go on such trips and share stories the same way. As someone raised in Kathmandu, I wished to travel with the Book Bus out of the valley to explore the classrooms and witness the diverse community practices. So when I signed up for the Sarlahi trip for the Read Alouds activity, it created a distinct level of excitement, even among my family members, as I told them what we were going to do.

The Book Bus traveled to seven schools in Chandranagar and Lalbandi with STEAM Team Ecosystem workshop, Read Aloud sessions, exhibitions, movie screenings, and games. We reached the destination to see students and teachers curious to see the ‘surprise’ inside the red bus. Though we were warned, it was difficult to grasp what the locals were saying at first and all we could do was smile and nod. Every morning, our new neighbors greeted us with questions - What are your names? How many book buses are there? (The answer is two, and one Book Tuk.) Were we Nepali? Had we been to America? 

When we were preparing for the inaugural program in Chandranagar, an auntie, who was with her daughter, asked in Bajika (the local language), “मैडम, अहाँ कतय सँ अबैत छी?” (Madam, where are you from?) I searched for a translator when her daughter added, “तपाई अमेरिकाबाट हुनुहुन्छ?” (Are you from America?) I looked at her adorable little face and guessed they wanted to know where we were from. Pointing to the Book Bus, I replied in Nepali, “The Book Bus is a gift for us all from America and I am from Kathmandu.” They stared and then giggled, not expecting me to reply in Nepali.

With each passing day, the Book Bus took to the streets of Chandranagar, exploring more stories. As we adopt mnemonics to recall formulas, locals in Chandranagar remember schools by the ethnicity of the students who study there. One of the schools, Uralo Primary School, was known as the Dalit school. Inside the schools, during the Book Bus readings when we laid out biographies, comics, encyclopedias, graphic novels, illustrated books, etc. for students of all grades, they grabbed the books by bundles and wanted to take them home. Some wanted the same books their friends were reading. Others insisted on going through all the books there. Their tiny eyes with powerful dreams wanted to read them all. Students fought for the chairs. Others had to sit on the ground due to a lack of chairs. Though it created a mess, I would like to believe that it helped them quench their curiosity and see the surprise the big red Book Bus contains. 

Then, the Book Bus reading sessions took an interesting turn. The parents and grandparents of the students showed up, which has not happened on the trips I had been on previously. They asked for books we least expected them to - planets. Why? Their grandchildren had talked about another object revolving around the earth and they wanted to know more. The schools we visited had no library or reading corners. The conversation with neighbors made me realize that only well-to-do families had television and the male head of the family had a tuk-tukeh phone, which couldn’t access the internet. Hence, surprise and wonder were evident when they looked at pictures of these infamous planets. They had never imagined how beautiful the universe looked. Their curiosity didn’t end there. They asked for books about technology and wanted to find out how it worked. We often don’t hear girls being interested in technology and science, but seeing the women seeking information surprised and inspired us. I couldn’t help thinking it only went well because we had a lot of picture books. Books with texts would not have elicited such an interest.

It was rare to find youths in the communities we visited. The youths who were there were our translators. Most had left Chandranagar seeking better opportunities. There were a few young teachers, but they were government employees posted in Chandranagar. It was heartbreaking to see the teachers take two or three classes at once as there were not enough of them. On the last day, we saw a wedding where for the first time in Chandranagar, both the bride and groom were 21 years of age and had completed their high school education. The local government provided them with fifty thousand rupees. It was a welcome change as our neighbor shared that dowry is still prioritized over education and girls are sent to government schools. But in terms of infrastructure, the public schools fared better. 

Through the trip, I wished to introduce a small step toward a transformation and be a part of the students’ joy and learning. However, it was also a chance for me to explore my own questions. Raised in Kathmandu, I always thought I didn’t have enough resources to get a quality of life and rarely cherished the things in my surroundings. I used to complain to my parents about not having a fancy pencil case and stationery or a backpack full of books. But in Chandranagar, even carrying a school bag, putting on polished shoes, and an ironed uniform is a dream. I felt sad that there were children who had never seen color pencils before the Read Alouds activity.  It made me think about how my life is different from the students there and where I stand now. With whatever they had or didn’t, Chandranagar students radiated a positive and powerful energy. 

We bid farewell to Sarlahi. Our eyes welled up looking at the kids and neighbors, who had become friends, wanting us to stay there a little bit longer.