Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Sociology of Academics in Nepal

Edited version of this article is published on Kathmandu Post on 19th December 2012, and available in following link http://epaper.ekantipur.com/ktpost/showtext.aspx?boxid=2341457&parentid=20878&issuedate=19122012


Sociology of Academics in Nepal


Being relatively a new fish on the pond of academia, I am yet to understand deeply the reason behind the sorry state of our oldest and largest academic institution. Being a part of Tribhuvan University fills me both with sense of pride and feeling of helplessness. While acquiring a new identity of lecturer, I am gradually realizing that academics are perhaps the most blamed professionals in Nepal. They are blamed by students for not teaching well, not being updated enough in recent debates.  Proponents of Academic NGOs repeatedly question their quality of academic contributions.  Media blames them for overt politicization of academic institutions. The very politicians, who covet intellectuals to bring under their fold, lament on the scarcity of "true intellectuals". Indeed, academics in Nepal are more or less accountable for these allegations against them.  In the midst of this blame game, we often commit mistake of lumping all academics in a single category. If we observe, we may find that Nepal probably has the most diverse species of academics produced by the sorry state of academic institutions. The relationship between the origin of diversity of academics and sorry state of academic institution is like a chicken or egg question. The question remains, which comes first.  

Particularly, my observations are based on Tribhuvan University which seems like an overcrowded train gradually halting in its speed and nearly being dismantled out of its academic track. These categorizations are based on observations and numerous conversations that I have had with fellow academics and other professionals over the years. While I go on with categorizations, I am not claiming that these identities are absolute and fixed. In some cases, these categories may be seen as phases that an academic may pass through or at times, an academic may just be stuck in a limbo in between identities.

The first noticeable species are celebrity academics. The ones who had substantially contributed to academic knowledge in past but in present trying to live off the fruits of yesteryears. They are much coveted by INGOs who continue to use their consultancy services. They write bland research reports but produce nothing that contributes to academic knowledge.  Sometimes they appear in op-ed pages in newspaper to reinforce the belief that their old theoretical perspectives are still relevant.  Another noticeable group is activist academics who struggle with the challenge to manage their dual identities. Few of them are somehow able to perform this tightrope act and are creating new landmarks for academics in Nepal. But many of these activist academics are gradually turning into more activists than academics. And they have begun to produce similar rheoritic like political leaders and NGO workers.

The other kinds are real academics who are actively engaged in teaching and research. They have fascinating conversations with their students, often beyond classrooms. They are often the victim of the politicized system which requires academics to do chakari to netas and take refuge under certain political umbrella. These academics resist and continue to prod on the exhilarating journey of quest for knowledge. And in the front of their very eyes, their lesser counterparts with less vision and academic rigor go ahead being Department Heads, Deans and VCs. These visionary people, who have convictions and ideas for necessary initiatives required to transform the institution, remain relegated to marginality. But they do not give up, they continue to contribute, engage in discourses. They appear in radio, television and newspapers sometimes. They continue to create a ripple with their perspectives and ideas.

The next species right among us but not so obvious are cloak academics. They use identity of academics as a cloak because they are not able to embrace the true meaning of their profession, either by choice or lack of ability.  Thus, they substitute their lack of academic rigor by being engaged in other activities. The major field of their involvement is definitely politics. Obviously academics do have political beliefs on personal level. They do need to be involved in occupation based organizations to safeguard their rights.  But the question remains unanswered why academics need so many different professors' association? Apart from politicos, other cloak academics are engaged in different activities ranging from investing in private colleges to working as real estate brokers. Cloak academics however continue to teach as they need to draw salary from their regular jagir. They recycle their knowledge based on their old notes, which seems to be faded with use. They don't find it important to update themselves in recent changes in academic discourses. They talk and they want students to listen attentively. Some even, pretending to help the students, bring written notes into the classroom and recite them while students write every word.  One wonders why don't they simply handover these notes to students who can easily photocopy them at once and read at home. But then, one can fathom that for them, the classes without notes will be akin to travelling in a new city without a map.

Others are new generation academics, a new species that have recently started to inhabit classrooms of our oldest academic institution. Curious glances and whispers track their movements and scrutinize their attire. Bursting with ideas and believers of change, these new generation academics struggle with the system that refuses to accommodate the energy and vigor they have. They feel uncomfortable in highly politicized academic arena. They feel at loss of words in office meeting rooms among the old generation academics, where discussion on academic discourses is nonexistent. Always carrying backpacks with their laptop, they seek space somewhere to write, to research.  But an age old entry requirement of university system continues to banish them. These new generation academics are often relegated o the status of amsik lecturers who try to contribute more than so called thai full time teachers. Faced with the challenge of livelihood, they are unsure about the direction of their future. They continue to ask themselves and people around them how long are they to continue in hope of being established in a profession that they are qualified and so interested in. They often draw their livelihood from other engagements. But they are most happy when they are in university: teaching, researching and writing.

The other category, helmet teacher is already discussed much in public discourses. Helmet teachers have been much blamed and ridiculed. However, I see nothing to fault them. Their numbers are likely to grow even more if we see the continuity of mushrooming private college affiliates of same university minus the lack of increase in academic spirit promised by the advertisements in big billboards and full front page in newspapers.

Looking at these categories, many species of academics have been able to work their way around own personal benefit, making the most of the sorry state of academic institutions in Nepal. These academics are equally to blame along with the meddling politicians for the deterioration of Tribhuvan University. But there is still hope. We still have academics around us who have potential to transform the institutions, if we recognize them and entrust them with responsibilities and opportunities. So, next time if we hear anybody about to start fresh batch of accusations against academics of Nepal, we could perhaps interrupt and ask. Which species of academic are you talking about, could you please be specific?

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The Search


I am tired
With this facade of being nice, always
But in this crooked world
One can only keep the mask on 
And pretend that all is well. 
  
So, what others see me
 Is actually not me
This nice, gentle woman
Who  smiles
And talks with little frown on her face. 

 You are the  one, 
Who knows
How I am deep within
With you, I can sometimes lash out 
All those frustrations
I have Bottled up inside my heart. 
Sometimes, I just try to hide in the shell 
And pretend as if all is well 
But you with your eyes 
Seek me out and see through me
  
With you I cannot pretend. 
I can sometimes act like a bitch 
And have no qualms about it
Sometimes I have these phases
Its hormones mostly
But sometimes its me
A minute angry
A minute happy
A minute the tears come
A minute laughing hysterically. 
And how can I show this self to the world. 
They would think I am mad, perhaps I am. 


With you,
I can be little mad
A little sad
A little angry
A little funny
A little cranky
A little swanky
A little gloomy
Coz that's what I am like
Always not so smart
A little loose in the head
 With all the crazy thoughts
 Going back and forth.
 Sometimes, I live in a cloud
 And forget to switch off the gas
And burn the curry down. 
  
I know its not easy
Being with me.
Its not easy
Actually living with me
Day in and Day out. 
  
I do not know where this poem is going
I should end this soon….
This little frolicking of my mind
Which is  content
That life long search is in end. 
It took me so long to realize
A treasure was right in front of me

But I was searching everywhere
 when I started
I stumbled a lot
Knocked some wrong doors
And few trespassers wanted to enter 
Through window. 

 But it seems,"the end"
Is actually not an end.
 With each new phase
I know you more
And still feel
There is more to know
You are like a Russian doll
With each find, there is something more inside
I keep on uncovering and finding. 

So, the search did not end.
It only changed its direction

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Parent's quest for quality education


This article appeared in kathmandu post available in following link http://m.ekantipur.com/2012/04/24/oped/our-school-bazaars/352869.html
Parent's quest for ramro school
Dadhiram Khanal
Neeti Aryal Khanal
apednepal@gmail.com
Before, the misconception sets in, we have few disclaimers. First, we are not experts in education. Second, we are neither against private nor public education system. We do not present solutions, just share the dilemmas of parents which we feel hasn't been appropriately addressed by the government and concerned educational institutions. 

Despite the difference, all middle class parents have one thing in common: we have limited means but unlimited dreams. And a part of that dream is future of our children in which education plays an important role. We earn our livelihood through lawful means. We may not be able to fulfill all wishes and whims of our children. We compromise on our living style but we do not want to leave any stone unturned in pursuit of quality education for our children. 

Let's start from the very simple question? Which school do we want to put our child in? Let's be frank, it's true that public school do not count even as an option.  Even low income working parents cut their expenses in basic needs to put their children in "boarding" school. Why is this, we will this question for experts to sort out. 

Search for ramro school usually starts when the child is born but becomes more profound when the child turns around six and is about to start grade one. Usually parents start planning almost a year ahead consulting other parents who have been lucky enough to find the "right" school. Almost 2, 3 months prior admission, we start visiting several ramro schools and collecting brochure which often comes with a heavy price of the admission form. In the month of chaitra, we hop in from one school to another for entrance exams.  We are impressed and scared at the same time by some school's academic rigor, seeing the piece of paper that gives us details about the questions to be covered in entrance exams. And in the playground we sit and chat with other waiting parents and heave a sigh of relief that we are not the only one going through this rite de passage.  

If we look closely, the experience is similar to that of shopping for fashionable T-Shirt. Like fashion houses, there are education houses with a particular brand name:  big and small. Each school comes with bright color, attractive messages, slogans and one liner which they call "motto". On top of that, like a fashion brand, schools are advertised in media. Past few days, we keenly observed few advertisement of the school in television. One school boasted of "swimming pool", another bragged of "computer based learning". The most interesting of all, was an advertisement showing a boy not being able to solve a color puzzle. Then the girl joined in and solved it in an instant, then came the voice over, stating the name of school she studied in. And the camera lingered a bit on the face of proud mother who made the "right" choice. The question is, does a good school even need to advertise? Indeed, education has become a commodity. It seems as if parents are buyers; schools are retailers selling dreams of "quality education". In this whole process of buying and selling, our children are transformed into a product themselves, to be molded according to dreams of parents and guarantees offered by school. But what about children themselves?

What is the yardstick to measure ramro school? Buildings, desks, benches, playground, toys, swimming pool? The missing puzzle is the teachers. What matters most is how child is taught, the environment in the classroom, is there a teacher who is genuinely interested in teaching? Is that teacher well trained, is that teacher well paid? These questions are seldom asked and rarely answered. 

It seems as if we believe that the more expensive the school is the more quality education it offers. But is it really so? Few days back, one of our relatives announced that he is enrolling his child into a very "good" school which is better than one of the big brand name school in Kathmandu. We wanted to know how he came to that conclusion. "Fees", he said, "they charge higher fees than that good school". When we heard the amount of fees charged by some of the very ramro schools, our jaws dropped. We even felt little guilty over being such a bad parent for not being able to afford "quality" education. 

Majority of parents in Kathmandu send their children to school far from their home in quest of quality education. This requires children to eat dal bhat around 7.30 am in morning and reach bus stop at 8. In evening, they come back with homework which leaves them little time to play and have fun. The most challenging transition is for the children who start their grade one in new schools. From a close knit small pre-schools, they move into larger schools. For these new grade oners, their school hours become longer and their bags heavier.  

If only there was one single education system which ensured similar level of quality in all schools. With this, we could send our children to nearest school forgoing an hour long bus journey back and forth in traffic mad, busy street of Kathmandu. If only, education for our children was more about learning and discovering than being the bearer of a brand name of education houses. But these are still farfetched dreams. 

Thus, we must embrace the reality. Our son is starting new school from today. Waking early ourselves, we nudge the sleepy little boy and steer him to bathroom. While eating daal bhat, he can't stop talking about his new uniform and glossy new books. He can't wait to play in large playground and colorful slide at his new school.  The doubts linger while we hold his little hand ushering him to his new big school bus. Will he be able to make friends, will his teachers care for him, will he survive? But then, looking at all those bright young faces in a bus along with him, a relief comes over. If they made it, he will too. 

As parents of two children, the writers are interested in different issues relating to parenting in   Nepal. 

Teej: negotiating between modernity and tradition


Edited version of this article appeared in Kathmandu post, available in following link 

http://www.ekantipur.com/the-kathmandu-post/2012/09/17/oped/bedecked-with-bangles/239756.html

Teej: negotiating between modernity and tradition

Sparkling bangles and bindis, women singing and dancing in odd places and times of the day in neighborhood, images of women in red sari taking over facebook timeline: festive season of Teej is here once more. Ask anyone about Teej, they are sure to have very passionate opinions about it: men or women, follower or non follower. Some are vehemently against it, some are ardently supporting it.  And in between that, some women like me do not know anymore whether to love or hate Teej. Coming into age in 1990s at the height of feminist movement in Nepal, many so called modern Nepali women share an uncomfortable relationship with Teej. When seen from religious discourses that require women to worship lord Shiva for long life of husband, Teej seems worst remnant of patriarchal society. But can Teej be easily dismissed as patriarchal ideology alone? Answers are not that easy.  


Practice of Teej came into being when male supremacy was unquestioned. It was not surprising that religious discourses reflected the reality of that time. For women of previous generations including many rural women at present, Teej marks an end of agricultural season, when overworked daughter-in-laws could finally go to their maita, eat, sing and dance to their heart's content. While conforming to patriarchal ideology, such as" fasting for husband's long life" and 'drinking water from husband's feet", women could practice their agency within that constrained traditional space. Thus, Teej on one hand required women to conform to male domination but on the other hand also allowed to question the very same. Though Teej songs have been repeatedly dismissed as "lamentations of women against their husband and mother-in-law", close examination of these songs can help us conclude how political it was. Teej allowed women an opportunity to question the power imbalances of society based on gender. It may be hard to regard it as so at first.  But we all know that Teej is not something one celebrates in isolation.  Women celebrate amongst one's family, kins and friends. Thus, when masses of women question the power inequalities and injustices at a particular time, Teej does not remain a cultural/religious festival alone, it transforms into a political force that is capable of transforming society. 


Teej is also a thread that helps women to weave their memories into their life story. Recollecting my own memories of Teej, I never once kept fast before marriage. My two best friends (one Bahun and other Newar) started to fast in Teej since their early teenage years. They were teased mercilessly for their perseverance and patience to continue fasting year after year. It is still debatable what prompted them: religious faith or desire for good life partner, perhaps both. But probing deeper, one can argue that many new generation women who are educated and have strong career goals, Teej has became a means to negotiate a balance between modernity and tradition. Teej, is perhaps new generation Nepali women's way of proving that though they are embracing modern lifestyles and values, they are still "good daughters" and "good wives" like their mother, albeit different. As, fasting in Teej requires certain qualities that are synonymous with image of good daughter and wife in Nepal: spirituality, patience, devotion and endurance.  While my friends kept gruesome fasting, I took part in all fun aspect of Teej, dancing, eating, dressing, make up, minus most crucial aspect: fasting. Sometimes, my involvement in festivities was questioned, which made me even more adamant in my ways. This deviance perhaps stemmed as a resistance to cultural discourses that described the narrowed image of ideal women and their pre-destined life course: marriage and motherhood.  

But I could not resist Teej any longer. I started fasting soon after marriage with the enthusiasm that comes with being a newly married woman. With scrutinizing gaze of society that is constantly watching for any slips or falls that newly married woman makes: I could not help but give in. As, for newly married women, fasting in Teej becomes a means to express their marital happiness, which may not always exist. Over the years, I have come to embrace Teej as an important part of my life. It has become a strong medium for me to express love to my husband and to strengthen the bond between my mother and friends. I always cherish receiving churapote from my relatives and equally relish giving back something similar. Though this is an expensive practice and may even seen as meaningless charade on surface level, this circular exchange of gifts helps to maintain close tie amongst women relatives and friends.  


Obviously, modern Nepali women do not always agree with all practices and ideology surrounding Teej. But they celebrate it every year with continued resistance and acceptance. Thus, the practices, rituals and ideologies surrounding Teej are gradually changing. At present, fasting may no longer mean being complete "nirahar" and "nirjal". Each family these days have their own idea about the nature of fast: is it total fasting without food and water whole day, is it drinking water only, is it having a bowl of fruits and milk soon after the visit to temple?  Thus, Teej should not be as much of a charade for women, like it seems to be. Similarly, what comprises of durr is also changing. Though self proclaimed protectors of pure Nepali culture argue that women should stick to traditional durr: rice cooked in ghee, rice pudding, sweets and yoghurt.  But doesn't the choice of food change with time? Durr in its true essence simply meant something delicious that may not always be part of regular meal. Another meaning was to have something sustaining that enabled women to keep fasting. So, it is not surprising that in some of the durr programme and "Teej party" one will find momos, pizzas, pastries and even wine. Most significant of all, practice of "drinking water from husband's feet" is changing too. Observing my own mother's life course, she remembers that it used to be an important ritual that was performed everyday soon after her marriage. After several years, it was limited to major festivities. Then, it was once in a year in occurrence, in Teej. Nowadays, I find it amusing to see whole spectacle of this ritual amongst my parents. While mother follows father pretending to want to "drink water from feet", my father pretends to move afar saying repeatedly "no need".  The ritual still continues in form of this mock performance that continues every year much to the amusement of grandchildren. Though, few remaining generation of chauvinist men still may have sadistic pleasure of having their wives drink water from their feet, I believe that new generation men find it more comforting to be treated as normal mortal men rather than god like figures whose feet need to be worshiped to prove that they are superior. 

So, do not be surprised this Teej if you see group of modern women: some with empty stomach, some with half filled stomach, some with bright red sari, some with kurta tops, some married and some unmarried, some with long hair and some with short hair raising a commotion in the middle of the street singing and dancing with abandon with one hand full of bangles and the other with watch and i-phone.  

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Happy New Year 2069

Happy New year 2069
This day
Old year has gone,
New has begun
In between that
Perhaps, we have grown
little older
Little saner
This year
Lets review
What we were
What we are
And what we will be
Yes, the world definitely needs
some changes
But before that
Lets search that inner voice within us
To discover our true selves.
As they say,
If you want to change the world
Start with yourself.



Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us. - Har Barland

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Experience of Nepali women in Academia

Note: This article was published in Kathmandu post available in following link http://www.ekantipur.com/2012/02/10/oped/a-day-in-the-life/348694.html
Nepali Women in Academia: Negotiating in between their private and personal lives
-Neeti Aryal Khanal
(mail2neeti@gmail.com)

Women in academia in Nepal are almost as rare as red pandas of our Himalayas. The participation of women in education sector in Nepal, particularly in school education is promising. But there are limited numbers of women academics, particularly in postgraduate level in Nepal.

Taking a feminist perspective, it can be argued that the very nature of academia itself is masculine. Feminist epistemology, a theory of knowledge argues that men have always been knower and knowledge generators. Women were not regarded as knower as in early years, knowledge of women were based on their embodied experience of being a woman (wife, mother). It is only since recently that the number of women students in higher education is increasing. In universities in developing countries, it is no more surprising to find number of women academic exceeding that of male academic. However, in Nepal that scenario is changing but in very slow pace. Still in some of the department in our universities, one may not be surprised to find very few numbers of women academics.

In higher education system in Nepal, a complex ideology of gender and knowledge come into play due to which an experience of women academic is very different from that of male academics. Let me start with first impressions. As it is said, first impression is often the last. Impressions are created by how we dress and interact. The issue of impression is what plagues most of the new women lecturers who are in initial stages of their career. Here, I would like to share my own personal experience which I have found common among many Nepali women academics.

It was somewhere in 2004 that I had recently finished Masters in sociology and was offered to teach in one of the newly opened private programme in Masters in Sociology. At that time, I was thin and lean (minus the experience and fat I gained post marriage and motherhood). When I attended my very first faculty member meeting, prior to start of course, I was advised by my seniors (not with any ill intention though) to wear a sari while teaching. I perhaps had bought this situation upon myself. I had gone to the meeting wearing pants (not jeans, god forbid!) and perhaps looked more like a student than a lecturer. Wearing sari is in fact much more than draping a 5 meter colorful piece of cloth around your body. Apart from women ascetics who wear orange and white robes, for us materialistic women, wearing sari brings in whole new set of demands on our wardrobe and toilette. I can almost feel women readers nodding their head in empathy. For sari, you need to know how to shop well for all sorts of materials ranging from bindi, bangles, necklace, and above all shoes (heels preferred, a torture to someone who needs to stand for more than an hour to deliver the lecture). Then comes make up. The idea is to make up in such a way that is not noticeable but still traceable. The right way to make up for women academic is just to give a hint of femininity, but at the same time an academic seriousness, a contradiction in itself. In this way, I argue that women academic experience challenge to negotiate between their femininity and masculine nature of the academia. While, I am writing along these lines, I can almost hear you lamenting on this lengthy monologue of mine. That is exactly the point. For an academic in any subject what matters is locating the materials, reading them, analyzing them and plan how you will present and involve class in the discussion. But for women academic, it is not that simple and straightforward. For women academics, deciding what to wear and how to wear takes up as much time as what and how to teach during initial classes until we prove our worth. It is in those times, I envy male academics, for whom decision is only about choosing between jeans or cotton pant.

Another common experience of Nepali women academic is that students do not take them seriously in the beginning (please note the emphasis). The common scenario of their very first class is a buzzing murmur at the back of the class, a stifling giggle on the front row, dragging sounds of benches and desks for several minutes. Imagine trying to teach in this situation. The very first class of women academic starts with an unspoken but obvious doubt among students in her ability to teach, and to teach well. I distinguish between the two terms (teach and teach well) because in Nepali context they have two different meanings. Well, there are many people, who can just teach but they rarely involve students in the learning process. Besides the unidirectional teaching method of our university systems rarely gives us opportunity to involve students in learning process. But a good teacher who is sincere towards his/her profession finds ways to make learning more interesting and engaging students in the learning process. Thus, I argue that for male academic, it is already given that they can teach, they need to work hard further to prove that they can teach well. But women academic need to start from square one: to prove that we can teach. After establishing this, then only we can move towards the acceptance that we can indeed teach well. While writing these lines, I convey my respects to few pioneer women academics in Nepal who have proved through their hard work that indeed women academic can teach well and have made emerging women academic like us to make the path easier than before.

Another area I wish to bring into discussion is lack of working space in universities in Nepal. Universities in Nepal are not designed to enable professors/lecturers to pursue their academic work in their own departments. Physical infrastructures of many of our departments comprise of classrooms, an office for the department head, and a common meeting room with a small lounge. If only our departments had a staff room in which each of us faculty member have a small cubicle comprising of computer with high speed internet ( minus the facebook) and a shelf for our books. It may take a while to realize this dream but till then whatever works that requires us Nepali academics to prepare for the class and other academic activities such as research and writing has to be done from home. So, when women academic need to work from home, a complex ideology of gender division of labor comes into play. Reading at home, amidst the cries of a toddler and whistles of your pressure cooker with dalbhaat ( blame that to load shedding, for women can no longer cook in rice cooker) is not just done. On top of that, guests and neighbor come in and when they see you at home, they say" oh, you are free today, not going to university?" It takes a while for us to explain that we are at home: to read, to locate the material for that lecture, to make slides for the lecture, to make a memo of important points for discussion. I am not generalizing here but I believe that for male academic in Nepal, often there will be a wife behind who will hush her children to go play in another room as "papa" is studying. For an academic mom, perhaps things are not that simple. Somehow, academic mother manages to read for her lecture in between heating the oil in the pan and dropping vegetable with whoosh, cooking meal for kids to send them to school, and feeding milk to the toddler in her lap. And at the end of the day, after feeding the family, washing the dishes, settling her kids into sleep, with a big sigh of relief she opens her book late into the night to prepare for the next day's early class in the morning.

Writer is lecturer at Central Department of Sociology/Anthropology, Tribhuvan University.

Experience of Nepali women in Academia

Note: This article was published in Kathmandu post available in following link http://www.ekantipur.com/2012/02/10/oped/a-day-in-the-life/348694.html
Nepali Women in Academia: Negotiating in between their private and personal lives
-Neeti Aryal Khanal
(mail2neeti@gmail.com)
Women in academia in Nepal are almost as rare as red pandas of our Himalayas. The participation of women in education sector in Nepal, particularly in school education is promising. But there are limited numbers of women academics, particularly in postgraduate level in Nepal.
Taking a feminist perspective, it can be argued that the very nature of academia itself is masculine. Feminist epistemology, a theory of knowledge argues that men have always been knower and knowledge generators. Women were not regarded as knower as in early years, knowledge of women were based on their embodied experience of being a woman (wife, mother). It is only since recently that the number of women students in higher education is increasing. In universities in developing countries, it is no more surprising to find number of women academic exceeding that of male academic. However, in Nepal that scenario is changing but in very slow pace. Still in some of the department in our universities, one may not be surprised to find very few numbers of women academics.
In higher education system in Nepal, a complex ideology of gender and knowledge come into play due to which an experience of women academic is very different from that of male academics. Let me start with first impressions. As it is said, first impression is often the last. Impressions are created by how we dress and interact. The issue of impression is what plagues most of the new women lecturers who are in initial stages of their career. Here, I would like to share my own personal experience which I have found common among many Nepali women academics.
It was somewhere in 2004 that I had recently finished Masters in sociology and was offered to teach in one of the newly opened private programme in Masters in Sociology. At that time, I was thin and lean (minus the experience and fat I gained post marriage and motherhood). When I attended my very first faculty member meeting, prior to start of course, I was advised by my seniors (not with any ill intention though) to wear a sari while teaching. I perhaps had bought this situation upon myself. I had gone to the meeting wearing pants (not jeans, god forbid!) and perhaps looked more like a student than a lecturer. Wearing sari is in fact much more than draping a 5 meter colorful piece of cloth around your body. Apart from women ascetics who wear orange and white robes, for us materialistic women, wearing sari brings in whole new set of demands on our wardrobe and toilette. I can almost feel women readers nodding their head in empathy. For sari, you need to know how to shop well for all sorts of materials ranging from bindi, bangles, necklace, and above all shoes (heels preferred, a torture to someone who needs to stand for more than an hour to deliver the lecture). Then comes make up. The idea is to make up in such a way that is not noticeable but still traceable. The right way to make up for women academic is just to give a hint of femininity, but at the same time an academic seriousness, a contradiction in itself. In this way, I argue that women academic experience challenge to negotiate between their femininity and masculine nature of the academia. While, I am writing along these lines, I can almost hear you lamenting on this lengthy monologue of mine. That is exactly the point. For an academic in any subject what matters is locating the materials, reading them, analyzing them and plan how you will present and involve class in the discussion. But for women academic, it is not that simple and straightforward. For women academics, deciding what to wear and how to wear takes up as much time as what and how to teach during initial classes until we prove our worth. It is in those times, I envy male academics, for whom decision is only about choosing between jeans or cotton pant.
Another common experience of Nepali women academic is that students do not take them seriously in the beginning (please note the emphasis). The common scenario of their very first class is a buzzing murmur at the back of the class, a stifling giggle on the front row, dragging sounds of benches and desks for several minutes. Imagine trying to teach in this situation. The very first class of women academic starts with an unspoken but obvious doubt among students in her ability to teach, and to teach well. I distinguish between the two terms (teach and teach well) because in Nepali context they have two different meanings. Well, there are many people, who can just teach but they rarely involve students in the learning process. Besides the unidirectional teaching method of our university systems rarely gives us opportunity to involve students in learning process. But a good teacher who is sincere towards his/her profession finds ways to make learning more interesting and engaging students in the learning process. Thus, I argue that for male academic, it is already given that they can teach, they need to work hard further to prove that they can teach well. But women academic need to start from square one: to prove that we can teach. After establishing this, then only we can move towards the acceptance that we can indeed teach well. While writing these lines, I convey my respects to few pioneer women academics in Nepal who have proved through their hard work that indeed women academic can teach well and have made emerging women academic like us to make the path easier than before.
Another area I wish to bring into discussion is lack of working space in universities in Nepal. Universities in Nepal are not designed to enable professors/lecturers to pursue their academic work in their own departments. Physical infrastructures of many of our departments comprise of classrooms, an office for the department head, and a common meeting room with a small lounge. If only our departments had a staff room in which each of us faculty member have a small cubicle comprising of computer with high speed internet ( minus the facebook) and a shelf for our books. It may take a while to realize this dream but till then whatever works that requires us Nepali academics to prepare for the class and other academic activities such as research and writing has to be done from home. So, when women academic need to work from home, a complex ideology of gender division of labor comes into play. Reading at home, amidst the cries of a toddler and whistles of your pressure cooker with dalbhaat ( blame that to load shedding, for women can no longer cook in rice cooker) is not just done. On top of that, guests and neighbor come in and when they see you at home, they say" oh, you are free today, not going to university?" It takes a while for us to explain that we are at home: to read, to locate the material for that lecture, to make slides for the lecture, to make a memo of important points for discussion. I am not generalizing here but I believe that for male academic in Nepal, often there will be a wife behind who will hush her children to go play in another room as "papa" is studying. For an academic mom, perhaps things are not that simple. Somehow, academic mother manages to read for her lecture in between heating the oil in the pan and dropping vegetable with whoosh, cooking meal for kids to send them to school, and feeding milk to the toddler in her lap. And at the end of the day, after feeding the family, washing the dishes, settling her kids into sleep, with a big sigh of relief she opens her book late into the night to prepare for the next day's early class in the morning.
Writer is lecturer at Central Department of Sociology/Anthropology, Tribhuvan University.