When I was a St. Xavier's student in the early 90s I looked forward to our English classes but hated Nepali.
One reason was that English was taught by Americans, some soberly clad Jesuits, others younger, flashier volunteers who had taken a year off from their otherwise hectic lives to come and teach in third world countries. Few doubted, or doubt, the noble intentions of these young teachers, but thinking back, it seems they might have unknowingly conspired to lure us away from boring Nepali classes.
When a twenty-something white American walks into a classroom with a guitar and some Springsteen songs, the old-fashioned, topi-wearing 'Sir' of Mahendra Mala is destined to fall out of favour with most students. No wonder Nepali teachers devised their own theatrical performances while teaching - teary recitals of passages, exaggerated flourishes of the hands while rendering Devkota verses - but despite their efforts, Mahendra Mala always looked like the poor unwanted cousin when the next class promised renditions of "Born in the USA" and viewings of Dead Poets Society.
Nepali was not hip. If you did well in Nepali, you were viewed with some suspicion by other students: "he must be a pujari's son, or a closeted, pure bahun", as if those categories had a unique claim over the language. Today, though I don't have the figures to prove it, conversations with batch mates the world over indicate that almost eighty per cent of those who graduated from St. Xavier's with me reside in the western world. From doctors to engineers, software pros to scientists, STX '92 occupies some of the most lucrative positions abroad.
Occasionally, we meet for drinks and pride ourselves on our Xavierian heritage; we riff on Hollywood and hip-hop; our children speak in 'pure' American accents, and a mere mention of Devkota, never mind Rajesh Hamal, elicits the obvious shrug or sneer. Many foreign-born children, on their part, grow up with little appreciation, or knowledge, of any Nepali language. They rattle off English more naturally than their Xavier's educated parents, and while the parents half-heartedly bemoan this eventuality, I can't help but notice the unavoidable glint of pride in their eyes. Sadly Nepali, it seems, has become even less hip than it ever was.