In the rural mountain villages of eastern Nepal families would gather together after a long day of working the land and relax. Each night someone begins to beat the madal (drum) and sing what I thought were traditional folk songs. Then one rainy morning I was on my way to class and slipped down a short muddy trail. I picked myself up and went on my way. That night a few families came to "my house" and we began to sing and dance as usual. Then unexpectedly one of my "cousins" began singing "ratto matto chiplo batto" (red muddy slippery trail) and began what was to be one of the many reenactments of my muddy fall that morning. This was one of my most embarrassing, yet most memorable moments of my time in Nepal.