A House Divided: Land, Kinship, and Bureaucracy in Post-Earthquake Kathmandu
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
A House Divided: Land, Kinship, and Bureaucracy in Post-Earthquake Kathmandu by Andrew Haxby A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (Anthropology) in The University of Michigan 2019 Doctoral Committee: Professor Tom Fricke, Chair Associate Professor Lan Deng Assistant Professor Jatin Dua Associate Professor Matthew Hull Professor Stuart Kirsch Andrew Warren Haxby [email protected] ORCID: 0000-0002-5735-1173 © Andrew Warren Haxby 2019 Acknowledgements It is utterly humbling to think of all the people and institutions who have helped make this document and research project possible. This project received generous funding from multiple agencies at different stages. I want to thank the University of Michigan’s Rackham graduate school, which funded both my pre-dissertation fieldwork and a significant portion of my main fieldwork, as well as provided me with funding throughout my graduate career. I also want to thank the National Science Foundation and the Wenner Gren Foundation for their generous support of my fieldwork as well. Finally, thank you to the U.S. Department of Education’s Foreign Language and Area Studies program for their support of my language training. I also want to extend my thanks to the Nepali government for hosting me during my fieldwork, and to Tribhuvan University for sponsoring my research visa, particularly to the Economics department and Prof. Kusum Shakya. Throughout this process, both the Nepali government and Tribhuvan University have been committed in supporting my research agenda, for which I am deeply grateful. I also want to thank both the commercial bank and finance company that allowed me to observe their work. Though I have kept them anonymous, I would still be remiss not to acknowledge their help and flexibility. In Nepal, there are countless people who have helped me throughout my time there, and to whom I am extremely grateful. I want to extend my deepest thanks to my research assistants “Shyam” Shakya and Rephika for their help, especially in my research of Patan; to Sunil Tamang ii and his family welcoming me into their family over the past fifteen years, and for generously housing me on my frequent trips to Nepal; to “Sundip” for taking me with him so that I could observe land brokerage first-hand; to Raju and Samten Lama for their camaraderie whenever I visited Rasuwa; to all the residents of Nepal and Lalitpur who took time out of their busy lives to answer my (often personal) questions, and to those who invited me into their homes and offered me friendship. I also want to thank the tight-knit community of Nepali and foreign scholars working in Nepal, who have accepted me into their midst: Amy Johnson, Miranda Weinberg, Dannah Dennis, Jacob Rinck, Janak Rai, Heather Hindman, Andrew Nelson, Dan Hirslund, Manohari Upadhaya, Ben Linder, Austin Lord, Galen Murton, Aidan Seale-Feldman, Lauren Leve, Sara Shneiderman, Ashley Hagaman, Lindsay Skog, Kathryn March, Krista Billingsley, Sujit Shrestha, Sabin Ninglekhu, Luke Wagner, Barbara Grossman-Thompson, Rune Bennike, David Holmberg, Mark Liechty, Michael Hutt, and Christopher John Patrick, among others. Likewise, I want to thank the friends I made throughout my research period, for their support and company through often-trying times: Vincent Giannotti, Rose Schweitz, Bimal Karki, Bikram Karki, Tommy de Leon, Shreya, Menaka Shrestha, Amanda Peskin, and Ross Adkin. Though we are now scattered across the globe, I know we will meet again. Finally, special thanks to my language teachers Geeta Manandhar and Parbati Shrestha, whose lessons helped make my research possible. This project would also not have come to fruition without the incredible support of my dissertation committee at the University of Michigan. Thank you to Prof. Tom Fricke, who I first met back in 2004 at the Jesuit hostel in Godavari, and who has been a steadfast ally, mentor, and friend ever since. Thank you for chairing my committee, for all of our meetings in both Ann Arbor and Kathmandu, and for all of your sage advice on researching in Nepal. Thank you also iii to Prof. Stuart Kirsch, for your invaluable help in my search for grants and funding, for your detailed and thoughtful comments on my chapter drafts, and for your constant support and availability throughout this process. Thank you, also, for the Ethnolab class you led (2017-2018), which played a vital role in helping me forge the first draft of this dissertation. Thank you to Prof. Matthew Hull, for our many enlightening discussions on social theory and for your insightful and challenging questions on the nature of property, time, value, and bureaucracy. As difficult as it was to watch you unspool my arguments so quickly, your advice and patience has been vital for developing my analysis and for my own development as an anthropologist. And thank you as well to Prof. Jatin Dua for your careful readings of my chapter drafts and your insightful comments on my work, as well as for our conversations about teaching and the job market. Thank you also for your mentorship while I was a graduate student instructor for your class, an experience that has had an outsized impact on my pedagogical method. Finally, thank you to Prof. Lan Deng, for providing a thorough reading of my dissertation from a non- anthropological perspective, and for helping me to see my own work as it might appear to those outside my discipline. I would also like to thank those professors not on my committee, but whose tutelage at the University of Michigan has been vital to my academic development: Webb Keane, Gillian Feeley-Harnik, Krisztina Fehérváry, John Carson, and Sarah Besky. My relationship to Nepal did not begin with this project. As such, I want to extend my gratitude to the now-defunct University of Wisconsin’s Year in Nepal program for first introducing me to this country; to Carleton College for my undergraduate education in the social sciences, and particularly to my undergraduate advisor Prof. James Fisher, whose mentoring was vital to my early research and academic career; to the Fulbright Program for supporting my research on Christian conversion in Nepal which led, in a convoluted way, to this project; and to iv Fr. Casper “Cap” Miller, S.J., who mentored me through my undergraduate and Fulbright research. I also want to thank my mother, my father, my brother, Doug, and Ida, for their support throughout this long and involved project, for believing in my work and taking the time to talk me through the rough patches, and for not panicking when I decided to stay in Nepal after the earthquake. I am very lucky to have such a close, understanding, and loving family. Finally, I want to thank my partner Brenna K. Murphy. Brenna and I met as I was applying for PhD programs, which has meant that from the very beginning our relationship has been entangled with the demands of this project. Brenna was with me in Nepal. She and I endured the earthquake together, and then together organized a fundraising campaign to deliver relief materials to earthquake victims. While I researched, she pursued her career as a visual artist, producing work about Nepal and the earthquake (see end of preface). She has supported me throughout this process, helping me think through my research, lending me emotional strength, and even line-editing this entire document twice-over to make up for my lackluster skills as a copy-editor. Throughout these tumultuous years, we managed to build a home together. Brenna, I love you. v Preface When I say that I wasn’t prepared for the earthquake, that does not mean I hadn’t thought about it. For as long as I’ve been going to Kathmandu—my first arrival having been in 2001 as an undergraduate student—the threat of earthquakes has been explicit and oft- discussed. This discussion was not due to simply Nepal’s location on a fault line, but also to timing: Nepal was “overdue” for an earthquake, we were told, the implication being that each day the threat increased as imperceptible seismic pressure built up somewhere beneath the ground. The sense of imminent calamity was hard to ignore, and I lost hours of sleep to grim daydreaming, trying to imagine what it might feel like to be buried alive. What I mean is, this sense of apocalypse has always colored my view of Kathmandu, one that only darkened by its untamed urban growth. Whenever earthquakes came up in casual conversation, we would talk of all the new houses built around winding, thin streets, imagining together each one pancaking floor by cement slab floor, collapsing into the streets, and cutting off all avenues of escape. Naturally, these conversations were generally between foreigners, who were freer to imagine the destruction of a city they would be able to leave behind. It is hard for me to remember any conversations I had with Nepalis about the possibility an earthquake before it happened, I assume because they were far less frequent. My impression was that these conversations were generally more circumspect, with Nepali urban residents referencing the pain that would be visited on those living in rural areas or noting that their houses were built with pillars of cement and rebar meant to withstand such vi events. I do not think I’m projecting my own fears when I say that there existed palpable anxiety over earthquakes among my Nepali friends, an anxiety framed—like my own—by the uncertain timing of its inevitable arrival. No, what I mean when I say that I wasn’t ready for the earthquake is simply that I had imagined it all wrong.