From 1995 to 2000 I lived in Bardia in western Nepal. During my first couple of years there bottled water had to be ‘imported’ from Chitwan and things like bread were just not available. At that time I did my shopping in Bluebird (where Big Mart is now located) on Lazimpat maybe three or four times a year. What we did have in Bardia was time… plenty of time. 

Having moved to Bardia from Singapore (go figure!) the pace of life was very different. Long hours of sitting around, especially in the hot months when to move was just too sweaty anyway. The time passed at the same rate as the seasons and was reflected in the crops being grown. There was high excitement when a salesman came along, pushing his bicycle full of wears such as lungis, ladies hair ornaments, children’s clothes, and jackets in the winter. That always passed an hour or so as everyone pulled out their wares to inspect them carefully. 

In the summer a guy came along selling basically frozen water on a stick with a slice of coconut inside. Despite the immense heat I always turned down his offer. After the initial couple of years we could get blocks of ice from Nepalganj, which were delicious to the touch and cooled off fizzy drinks as well as our hands! In short, life was laidback and slow-paced, for me at least.

Yesterday, sitting on my balcony during the lockdown, I was sipping my morning tea, watching a neighbor irrigate his newly created vegetable field, and reflecting how the world has been forced to slow down. Here in Kathmandu, instead of the clothes seller (although they do come to my neighborhood also), the vegetable seller with his basket of goods perched on his cycle is what causes a flutter of activity.

The arrival of the guy spraying disinfectant on the street brought everyone out of their houses to watch—masks tightly worn against the pungent smell. A truck with jar water caused my heart to race as my usual supplier is not delivering. With the help of my neighbor, I got four jars (two-week supply) and only had to pay for the water, not the bottles. Guess he is trusting we are not going anywhere with his empty bottles. I felt I gained entertainment, goodwill and financial bonus all rolled in one! Women are gossiping from balconies and rooftops and the men are playing cards. I can see children and grandparents interacting on the same balconies and rooftops, the children perhaps fed up with TV cartoons. Yes the pace of life has slowed right down.

The supermarkets I missed in the 1990’s are again ‘missing’. But now there are online deliveries—something the village never had. Although it’s true there was always a helper in Bardia willing to cycle off to shop to pick up whatever was available that day. Or spend the day in the next town when, eventually, a little bakery opened. Small loafs, far too sweet, were produced, but bread never the less.   

Isn’t it just as exciting waiting to see if and when your supermarket delivery will turn up as it was waiting to see what was on sale in that week’s haat bazaar? Isn’t it true today that we would all love to fight our way over the boxes that block the aisles of a certain well know supermarket chain or visit the organic market that is way over-priced? We used to stress over the amount of time activities took, trying to fit shopping in between work, looking after children and meeting with friends. Today, we have all the time in the world.  But our regular entertainments are not available to us. So for now I watch the neighbor irrigate the land, and spend more time (virtually) with loved ones.