"Having said that: Number III": ANA Convention through my eyes.
-----------------------------------------------------

Phurfu Tsering Sherpa could not attend the Annual Nepalese Convention held in Washington DC on Fourth of July weekend (2002). He tried his best to make that six-hour trip from New York to DC, but his busy schedule was such that it was impossible for him to leave his chef responsibilities. After all, his customers could not spend a day without food stirred by his own Sherpa hands. His boss was even more emotionally and physically attached to him. For rest of the other Nepali “Laurees” and “chantimaiyas”, however, it was thrill and delight to forget work for four whole days and head down to DC. I, personally, had planned a lot for this occasion. I Bought brand new OLD SPICE after-shave. I intended to shave my whiskers twice a day to project my smooth skin during the period of convention. And I am sure people had had their own share of plans and strategies to enhance their physical appearances for the big get together.
The venue was big enough to crowd in 3000 Nepalese souls. Most of the rooms in the Marriott were occupied by Shresthas, Pradhans, Sherpas and many more Nepali surnames. Even the surrounding hotels, motels and Nepali dwelling apartments were filled with Bhat dal lovers; always rock jamming Nepali “Daju, Bhai and Didi, Bahini”. Some minority Nepali folks also brought their Non-Nepali significant others to give them taste and flare of our glorious culture and momos.
Just to prove the world, how wrong they are when they judge us as a country with no sports culture, we had multiple sports being organized in the middle of the day when the thermometer was way beyond 95 degrees. Although the soccer field was infested with bald grass patches and uneven surfaces, different teams let their steams out. We played our soccer game with grace and high spirit just to let the other team embarrass us with 3 solid goals and one suicide score. We were so determined to score that we let ourselves score in our own net to reward ourselves with some dignity.
Old friends were met, introduced and re-introduced. People talked about how old/young they appeared. And behind their backs they mentioned how “Fat” and “Ugly” someone looked. Young eyes were scanning for “Hot Chicks” or “Handsome guys”. Everyone thought they would meet someone that would change their lives. Even parents were there to comb out beautiful girls/boys for their sons/daughters. I guess all of the mothers and fathers were apprehensive about their siblings marrying someone other than Bhat Dal loving Nepali.
Some were surprised to see their past adversary become their pals, and others were horrified to see their best friend ignoring them. The DC convention was sweet and sour experience for all.
1974AD performed, Deep Shrestha was deep in his singing. Amidst all this, the African American Receptionist was having nervous breakdown looking at all the Gorkhali hang out in front of her all the time. Some parents were looking for their kids; some kids were looking for some other kids. And yet some were disillusioned as to where they were. These kids who grew up in the States saw so many others like them and way different than their Caucasian or African American friends. They talked funny with funny accent. Yet seeing commonality with these distinctly uncommon people made them more confused about themselves.
Teenagers were roaming around happy. This year 18-year-old Sumita found her long lost friend Banita who was with a handsome looking boy named Pramesh. The eyes met, Sumita soon realized that she was in love with the boyfriend of her long lost friend. Now this is the start of a new Nepali Soap Opera whose full story can neither be predicted nor completed until next year when they meet again in Denver. Will Sumita steal Banita’s boyfriend? This remains a mystery.
Older adults met their old friends. They talked about old times, introduced each other their sons/grand sons. Talked about how bad it is between their sons and non-nepalese daughter in laws. They talked about Nepal and their Ultimate goal to go to Kathmandu and start a small business or just retire enjoying US social security benefits living in Gucha tole. They probably talked about the same thing as last year. But their aging brain is such that they repeat and repeat these hopes, dreams and stories many times over without realizing that they are doing so. For them it is a vicious cycle. They will do the same next year also.
Ramesh, a 19-year-old I-20 holder, was bragging about how it is studying at Woodshole Community College. His friends, now full time out of status employees of Prince of India Restaurant of Queens, NY, were listening very enthusiastically. All of them showed strong interest in getting admissions form of Woodshole.
And of course many tried hard to impress everyone out by putting on the best outfit they could find in the North America in the Social Banquet. They really did not care too much about awful food as they were paying full attention to drawing full-undivided attention of others.
What is a Nepali gathering without constant and endless flow of alcoholic beverages? While walking down the corridor of the 4th floor of Marriott, I could hear noises from almost every room. Some were dashing out of the room and regurgitating the food they ate in the Banquet. I guess they could not hold alcohol anymore. My friends were in room 226, under serious intoxication of the Budlight. We eventually did a photo shot out of our beer bellies, and our tech inclined friends are turning all the pictures into a calendar. It will be out in the market titled “ Victor Secret Belly Calendar”.

Having said all that, all in all I had a wonderful time talking, eating and back stabbing my Nepali friends or foes in the 2002 ANA Washington DC Convention.