Friday, October 31, 2008

The Divinity of a Common Life

My hotel room in Pokhara looks right into the backyard of a typical Nepali family. Every morning, by 6:30, the strong smell of wood smoke fills my room through my open window. Shortly after, the sounds of happy children playing and giggling dance through my still sleepy ears. I open my eyes and peek through the window to see a grandmother sitting rocking a child in a small chair, while mama is busy preparing breakfast. Three children, probably all under 7 years old, are playing a game of tag in the backyard courtyard.

Their roof is made of corrugated tin, and it's held to the home by a collection of large rocks. The home is simple, one or two rooms and the toilet is in a small closet in the backyard, and is a squat toilet that doesn't flush. (You use water from a bucket to do that). If the inside of their home is like others that I've seen, there is a couple of platforms that multitask both as couch and probably bed, too. Theirs is a very typical home.

Saturday is the one day of the week that the children don't have school. Yet they still rise early to settle into the rhythm of a busy life. It is very common to see very young children helping their mothers with the laundry, housework, gardening, watching over their younger siblings, or even sometimes working at the family business for most of the day. When not working, kids play in small groups, often with simple things like an old Coca-Cola crate, or a rock. There is a game that both adults and kids play and it always attracts a big group. I've never been able to see inside the huddles that form but this game can captivate audiences for hours at a time. All they have here to play with is their imaginations, and I've never seen happier, less fussy, more content people (both adults and kids) in all my life.

From my observations and also by what I hear, Nepali women work far harder than Nepali men. For the women, it is far more than just preparing the meals. It is harvesting the rice, drying it, hauling vegetables often from afar on their backs, tending to the garden, raising the animals, leading them to pasture to eat, milking them. When they are not preparing for a meal (always Dal Bhat), they are doing other household chores. At least 80% of Nepali families do not use or have a washing machine. Instead, they gather at the river's edge, in large or small groups, to do the washing and to take baths. This photo was taken in Pokhara at the Phewa River, about a one minute walk from where tourists pay $150 for a paragliding or rafting adventure. There are people doing laundry, doing dishes, bathing and getting water. The rivers are also often used as toilets...think about that.

The average Nepali family makes less than $500 per year - just over $1 per day. Life is very simple here. They do not ever complain about eating the same meal twice a day, every day (if they are lucky, sometimes it's only one meal per day). When I was helping the students write letters to their American sponsors, many of them said their favorite food was rice. I also thought their drawings that they would create for their sponsors were also very telling. One of the most striking to me was of a forest that was all stumps, and a mom at home crying. The title was "No firewood for cooking." These are the kinds of things that kids worry about.This image is of a woman who is using the sun's heat to dry her recently harvested rice. She was doing this for at least 12 hours without a break as far as I could tell. Her children were playing in the rice, and helping her sort the grains for sticks and rocks.

I had mentioned in a previous post that probably only 5% of Nepali people have cars. This means that people walk everywhere, all the time. There is never a time when the streets are not busy. There's an energy that just radiates from the earth. Another popular way for families to get around is by motorcycle. Unfortunately, this is the best photo that I've got (and it's certainly not the most remarkable) but if you look closely you'll see four people - two adults and two kids on this one. I have seen as many as five people riding one. Probably the most interesting (alarming?) scene on a motorcycle was a woman who was breast-feeding her baby while sitting sideways on the back. There was another child sitting in front on the gas tank. Today I saw a 5 year old sitting on the rear bike rack of his dads bicycle while holding his infant brother. His dad was peddling very fast and nearly ran me over! None of them had helmets on.

In my past posts from Nepal, I have been talking more about my experiences, and less about Nepali life. I hope this helps you appreciate the many blessings that you have in your rich and abundant life! I will begin trekking the Annapurna Circuit beginning on Thursday, and will return to blog life when I return sometime around November 25.

With love,
Pam




Wednesday, October 29, 2008

On turning 39, homemade rafts and my big toe

On Sunday morning, I packed my bags and left Kathmandu. I got on a plane bound for Bhadrapur in the far southeastern corner of Nepal with Som to do some more volunteer work with ANSWER. When I'm traveling with Som, I don't have to worry about a thing. He's my translator, tour guide and boss all in one. He's great!

We spend the 24 hours between Sunday noon and Monday noon visiting five schools in five different towns. I'm really lucky to have had this opportunity to travel Nepal from east to west. Som tells me that I've seen more of Nepal than 98% of Nepali people. And from my experience talking to the locals I think that is true. Most people only leave their villages to go to Kathmandu or Pokhara. Not further. Certainly most Nepali's have never been outside of Nepal at all.

So, after our busy day of visiting schools, this one is in Biratnagar, our cab drives east as far as it can go and then Som says, "This is where our adventure begins." And, boy did it! The main highway - which is the only road - had been washed out in September floods of the Koshi Khola which killed thousands of people, and it was terribly devastating to the entire Eastern terai region. So we started walking... and went for about 1/4 of a mile through sandy shoals with me pulling my princess suitcase. (In case you're wondering, rolling luggage does not work well in sand, but I couldn't in my haste figure out how to make the transition. Bummer!)

So we finally arrive at a place alongside the river and there are literally hundreds of people standing there, and a dozen or so entrepreneurial raft makers. I honestly thought when I looked at the rafts, with only the drivers aboard, that I was surprised any of them were floating. Gilligan could have done better! It was definitely of the home-made variety, and had bamboo poles across a very simple looking hull. Just for a moment imagine that the Department of Transportation does not exist. That's what it's like here. Essentially I-90 is closed, and everyone with a piece of plywood and a hammer becomes an entrepreneur, and they are your only hope for crossing the country.

The driver is telling everyone to get on, and then Som said, "Let's go." So I follow him, and there is barely a place for me and my Princess Bag to sit...and, I am maybe passenger number 30 on the boat. The people keep coming, and coming and coming. In all, there were 55 people AND a motorcycle aboard the 25' long boat (maybe 8' wide?) for the quarter mile journey across the fast moving river. (Yes, mom, I heard your frantic voice in my ear...)


I honestly was making my escape plan the whole way across. I was SURE it was going to sink, so I was constantly aware of which shore was closer, and what I needed to hang onto. But Som was in charge so I just trusted him. Things just go like this in Nepal. The motor sounded like a lawn mower with something like molasses in the tank.

We arrive at our "destination", meaning we have made it across safely to another sandy river bank. I was so relieved that I was practically giggly...until I saw our NEXT mode of transportation. It was a tuk-tuk -- a kind of gas-powered rickshaw typically built for 8 or maybe 10 people. So all 55 people getting off the boat run for the tuk-tuk... and 24 of us make it in and on this tiny little thing. I am just laughing at this point since I'm pretty sure I'm not going to die now, but just might be stranded for a while. My Princess Bag gets thrown on top with four guys who are also holding about eight other bags, and Som tells me to get in fast. The tuk-tuk tries to move but we are stuck. So all the guys pile out and push us over the obstacle (a three inch high sand pile) and then jump in the moving machine. I've never seen anything like it! Absolutely hysterical, if only for the point that no one else is laughing at all!


The whole ride I am watching the tiny windows for any evidence that my bag has fallen overboard, which would surely mean into the river. At one point, it was about 1/3 of the way off the roof but luckily Som was able to secure it to window and get the guys on the roof to pull it up. The entire experience - from sandy shoal to Gilligan's raft to the end of the tuk-tuk ride was almost three hours. This photo was taken from the back right corner towards the front right where Som was sitting. Imagine that there are 15 other people in this tiny space that you can not see. Crazy!! Definitely a day that I will never forget.

So when we arrive at the end of the road Som's phone rings and it is Joanie wishing me a happy birthday! Very sweet, as I seriously had almost forgotten that it was this day. But unfortunately, in all the chaos and with the time delay of the phone I hardly hear a word, but I'm feeling happy none-the-less. It was a great call to receive!

So we hire a posh cab (thank you Som!) and hit the road. Only Alyson, Joanie, Megan, Leila and Kathy will REALLY appreciate this but the first song that comes on the radio is "Careless Whisper" by George Michael. Memories of our post-trek van-ride karaoke party made me laugh out loud! I HAD to sing. (Sorry Leila, but no interpretive dance!)

We arrive at some small town in the Eastern Terai region of Nepal and Som tells me he has a small birthday present for me, and he breaks out a bottle of wine. It was about the best, most-needed, happiest glass of wine of my whole life. We toasted to life!

The next day, we head for Pokhara and spend a couple of days just hanging out together. We hiked up to the World Peace Pagoda, paddle boated around Phewa Lake and I ate lots of fresh fruits and vegetables (thank you Pokhara!).

For the last three days here, the country is celebrating Tihar. It is a wonderful festival, and thankfully does not involve dead animals. Instead it involves singing, dancing and lots of lights and candles. As if in a celebration of life, the streets are filled - for three days straight - with spontaneous happiness. Kids, women, men...everyone gets into the spirit. It is such a joyous festival that it makes me wish we celebrated Tihar in the US. While on our hike up to the Peace Pagoda, we were stopped by at least ten different groups of kids who insisted that we watch their well-practiced performances, and then of course make a small donation. I couldn't resist their smiles and joy...
Thursday morning, Som headed back to Kathmandu to prepare for his upcoming trip to the USA. I spent much of the previous two weeks helping him prepare documents for his appointment at the American Embassy. I was thrilled when he was granted his US visa! (By the way, he will be mostly in the Detroit/Grand Rapids/Chicago and Virginia/D.C. areas from mid-November until mid-January. EMAIL him at answer@wlink.com.np if you want to host him and meet a really fantastic Nepali guy on his first trans-Pacific trip.)

This morning, I decided to do my first really "touristy" thing and I went white-water rafting. The river had class 3-5 rapids and it was a BLAST! Unfortunately, no good photos from the experience since my camera is not waterproof... but suffice it to say it was awesome.

So, still wet from my river fun, I haul my very heavy princess bag to the new guest house where I will be staying. While lifting it to be a backpack (I finally figured it out!) I catch my big toenail on the bag and I rip it 90% of the way off. OUCH!!!! Luckily, like an angel, a really wonderful Canadian medical school student (score!) named Sarah just materializes out of thin air. I sit down, panting after I see my toenail standing STRAIGHT UP. (I deleted the photo...sorry to those of you that I grossed out!) She is so gracious to attend to a strangers disgusting, bleeding toenail but she does it. We decide that I should go to the clinic to see what they think. Slightly hesitant, I agree and we wrap my toenail (that will not lay down) and she accompanies me to the "hospital".

Third World hospitals really ought not to be called hospitals at all. It dark, there's no receptionist to check us in, all the patients share two rooms, there is blood splattered on the walls, mold growing by the sinks, and it's just plain dirty. Eeewww. We walk in and peek behind a curtain. The doctor sits me down, looks at it and decides that it must be removed. Sarah agrees, and so I submit. They lay me down and proceed - without warning - to jam a needle with local anesthetic into my toe FIVE TIMES! (the photo above was my last peaceful moment.) I am not kidding when I say that I screamed so loud, and for two minutes straight, that the entire hospital, and probably neighborhood, could hear my pain. Bless Sarah... she held my hand through it all. Thank heaven (Buddha, Durga, or whoever) for friends in new places!

Next week (assuming my toe allows which Sarah and I both think it will), I will join Gherdin and a few other orphans for another trek. This time, it will be the Annapurna Circuit, which is more of a cultural trek through authentic, year-round (not just for trekkers) Nepali villages. It's part of the major Tibetan trade route from hundreds (if not thousands) of years ago. From what I hear, it's a very different experience than the Sanctuary, though equally amazing in it's own right. We'll do it with porters, but no guide. Cheaper, and apparently very easy on this route. I am REALLY looking forward to it!

Now, I'm sitting in an internet cafe, happy that my toe is feeling better and preparing for my next adventure. Hopefully it will not involve Gilligan, any of his relatives, or filthy Nepali hospitals.

With love,
Pam

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Two Glorious Cups of Tea

I think today was perhaps the second best day of my entire trip to Nepal so far. I know, it begs the question... what was the BEST day in Nepal? I still have to go with the Annapurna Base Camp day, but today was a close second.

After a hair-raising day yesterday (which ended with a ride in the tourist police car BACK to the restaurant in question, with the lights flashing, in a Kathmandu traffic jam - a 30 minute, very slow, very embarrassing ride), Gerdien stays at my hotel with me and we decide to get out into nature today to unplug from the previous day's chaos.

We head to a national park that is just at the outskirts of the Kathmandu Valley called Shivapuri. We are really looking forward to some much needed peace and quiet, and about 10 minutes into our hike we run into the largest all girl's school in Kathmandu, who's brought their entire student body to the park. Oh well, so much for peace and quiet. We walk as fast as we can (though Gerdien is in her skirt and Birkenstocks) to get past all the giggling girls. I must add that I am still feeling fit from my trek, and keep up with my tall Dutch friend just fine...

We arrive at Nagigumba, a small Buddhist monastery in the middle of the forest which is just beautiful. It's on a hill (in Seattle, we would call it a mountain as it's at about 5,000 ft.) overlooking all of the Kathmandu Valley as you can see in the photo above. We beat the kids to the top, and spend a few minutes getting hugged by the monks and taking photos. Then the girls, and two carloads of tourists from Hong Kong arrive at once. We have to leave too quickly to really enjoy this place.

I read in our tour book that there is an "alternative" route to get down that you "follow the ridgeline about three hours south to Kopan". Sounds delightful, and off the beaten path which is exactly what we are looking for. We walk for about a mile before we stop at a gate wondering where it goes. Thankfully, a local walked by and I asked and pointed, "Kopan?" He pointed just to the side of the gate where there was a very small path. OK, we're off. The trail is really steep, and there really isn't a defined path at all. Not too mention Gerdien is in her Birkenstocks, which makes it extra tricky.

We walk for about an hour in really strange territory, definitely what you would call OFF the beaten path. We're not sure we're going where we are supposed to be going (or, you could say we were EXACTLY where we were supposed to be) but we keep walking though the path has split about 20 times. We see two local village women carrying heavy loads and heading down the mountain. I do my best Nepali, and point down the mountain, "Kopan?" They agree that they are heading in the same direction (though the communication style was HILARIOUS as she kept pointing backwards, and indicating some path we were supposed to be on behind us, but then scolded us when we turned around.) We continue to follow them down. They are both wearing thin rubber flip flops, which inspires Gerdien to forget about her footwear situation!

They sit down at one point, and then we sit. I offer them water (which Hindu's usually decline because they don't like to share germs for some reason I don't quite get) and they both gratefully accept. Gerdien has an apple that we offer to them, and they ask if we can share it (in sign language, of course). I break out the Swiss Army Knife - definitely a good reason to carry one - and we all share a wonderful moment. We determine that Mama is 66 years old, and Didi (term of respect for an older sister) is 50-something.
After our break, we get up and continue walking. Again, Mama points backwards and kind of yells something, but when we turn around she shakes her head and indicates that we should continue walking with them. They sing and laugh all the way down the mountain, certainly amused by the unusual Westerners that they've stumbled upon and saved. Eventually, we arrive at a small town and the shop owner invites us in for tea. We sit, have no real conversation, but really share another wonderful moment in time. After the first glorious cup of tea, a young girl walks us to the trail where we are to head to Kopan, and we say goodbye to Mama and Didi.

About thirty minutes later, we arrive at what we think is Kopan (hint: there are about a million prayer flags) but there is no sign, and only a small path to where we believe it should be. We decide to take it, though the day is getting late and we only have about two hours of daylight left. The first building we come upon is definitely not the stupa, but the door is cracked and we hear some drumming and chanting coming from the building. Curious, we walk to the door and listen. A very young (8 years old?) Buddhist boy dressed in his dark red robes walks up the stairs, greets us, and invites us in.

Here's where the magic began, and unfortunately it just wasn't appropriate to break out my camera. Words will have to do...

As we enter, the music is getting louder and louder. We are led into a beautiful room downstairs that is filled with young Buddhist lamas. We kneel on the floor inside (after taking off our shoes, of course) and watch the ritual that I imagine has been going on for several hours at least, maybe all day. There are 20 boys in the room all sitting around the edges of the rectangular and beautifully, ornately painted room (think of a Buddhist Sistine Chapel, if you can), with tables in front of them. They sit in lotus position and they are all chanting from traditional texts. Each boy has a special instrument and they seem to be grouped by what instrument they are playing. Two boys get up and move, and they make room for Gerdien and I to sit at one of the tables. We gratefully oblige, though in all of the fuss they make for us, the chanting and music continue. It is almost like this is the most powerful dream I've ever had. Time stood still, and we just watched. Tears began to stream down my face and I just couldn't help it. This was a life moment that I would never forget, but yet I can hardly find the words to describe it.

The instruments included (in very un-technical terms) two 8' long trumpet-ish horns (that sounded a bit like a tuba with only one note), two other shorter one-note horns with something that resembled a clamshell on the end, two heavy pewter bells with beautiful sound, a pair of cymbals, a large hanging taiko drum, some Tibetan hanging cymbals, and a few other unidentified noise makers. The lama who seemed to be in charge was about 10 years old. The devotion and faith were absolutely stunning to watch. I made eye contact with a few of them, and they would smile and act a little shy, but never skip a beat in the ongoing chanting and ritual. After what seemed to be every page of the ancient texts that they were chanting from, a different boy would go to the front of the room before the alter of Buddha and perform a ritual that I couldn't quite see though I know it involved pouring water into a heavy pewter cup. The boy would then walk backwards through the room and as he did the other boys would cease playing their instruments and chanting, and they would all simultaneously through rice into the air, as if in celebration, and simultaneously shout in celebration.

Just as I was getting into the groove of recognizing what would be coming next, a young boy came before us and presented us with two cups of hot tea and a smile, as if to say, "You are welcome here." It was magic, as I had almost forgotten that I WAS really there since it was so mysteriously dream-like. It brought me back to life, and made me realize that this was all really happening.

We stayed in the magical room, both transfixed by the devotion and beauty of the ceremony, for about an hour. Realizing that daylight was running out, and that this ritual could go on for days, we showed our respect by offering them the most heartfelt "namaste" that I have motioned on this trip, bowed to the alter of Buddha, and quietly slipped out the door.

What a perfect, spontaneous, magical day! I'm looking forward to having a world of these kinds of moments during the next nine months away.

With love,
Pam

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

My encounter with the Kathmandu police

So, I am just hanging out in Kathmandu, awaiting a permit for my next trek. But as is the case in Nepal, you never really know what they mean when they say it. Perhaps I will get a permit. Perhaps I won't. I've been waiting for a week now so I'm starting to get impatient. Hopefully I will be able to post some news on my next adventure soon.

But for now, I have been kind of stalling in Kathmandu. Staying at the Pilgrim's Guest House in the Thamel district (the tourist neighborhood), they have welcomed me like family. They notice when I come and go and ask a lot of questions. Sometimes this is a good thing. Sometimes, it's not. That's another story.

But I digress... during my stalling in Kathmandu I have met a really wonderful Dutch woman named Gerdien (say "HAIR-deen" with a hard H like German). She's volunteering at the orphanage where I considered working, but have decided not to because the timing just doesn't work out. It's a blessing to meet her because she's easy going, funny, really friendly and adventurous. We've spent a few days hanging out in Kathmandu together, exploring neighborhoods and the sights. Last night, I met her at a restaurant near my guest house for a cheap, delicious dinner. We're dining with a guy from Australia that she's met. Everything is going along great, I'm getting travel tips from the Aussie and the lights go out. (This is a daily happening in Nepal, usually for about 3 hours at a time.) Nothing unusual. About two minutes pass and then the staff comes around and lights a candle at our table. About twenty minutes later, Gerdien goes to grab something out of her backpack, and it's gone.

Shit. We're freaked out. We're the only white people in the restaurant. The staff speaks a little English, but they don't seem very concerned about the missing bag. We call Som (I can not say enough nice things about my Nepali big brother) and he rushes to the rescue! Som calls Pilgrim's Guest House and they send two English speaking staff down to the restaurant to try to help us locate the missing bag, and to communicate the situation and what we have seen (which, unfortunately, is not much.) Her bag contained just about everything important (camera, credit card, bank card, sunglasses, money, address book, etc.) but fortunately, her passport is safe at home.

Som recommends that we NOT call the police as they are really good for nothing. But the staff from Pilgrim's says that it can't hurt, and we agree. Thirty minutes later (thank God no one is hurt) we are told that we need to walk to the Metro Police station about 10 minutes away to file our report. We arrive, and no one seems concerned. Our escort is asking questions, but they seem more concerned with who he is and why he is with two Western women. He's a member of the lower caste so they quiz him endlessly. It seems for at least the first five minutes there is no discussion of the missing bag.

A few minutes later we are just standing around. Just waiting. For what, we do not know. Then a truck arrives. It is a king cab truck with a canvas canopy over the back. We are told to get in the back of the truck. I'm not kidding, there were TEN police officers in the truck with us. And, thankfully, our escort from Pilgrims. We drive the long way through busy Thamel (as if to make a statement that the police really DO do something) and then arrive at the restaurant. Along the way, I decide that I have to break out my camera and take some photos. At first they are hesitant, and then they start posing for photos. Here's a few good ones...

The cops were hardly what you would call imposing or intimidating, as you can see. They all want to look at their image on my camera as soon as they are taken.

At McDonal's Fast Food Restaurant (really, this is what it's called), all ten police officers go inside and then emerge a few minutes later and say, "Well, your bag isn't inside." Of course it's not. Two hours have passed since the incident so it's not surprising that the bag has made a getaway. We're all certain that it was a staff person from the restaurant who took it. Total bummer. It's important to note that we are asked to come back the next day (today) to file our report. That's why we visited in the first place...

Today, we have spent the ENTIRE day dealing with the hassles of losing everything. Visiting the Dutch Embassy. Cancelling credit cards. Calling banks to get new cards issued. Calling her parents to wire the money. Getting the lock to her room at the orphanage opened (the key was in the bag.)

At the embassy, the officer there tells us to visit her friend who is a businessperson near the restaurant in question. He's buff, and well respected in the neighborhood. If he thinks they are bad and took the bag, maybe they will surrender the bag (minus the money, about $100 dollars which she's offered as a "reward"). We're going to try this Mob tactic a little later today.

A wasted day, but we both recognize that we are safe and healthy. Inconvenienced for certain, but glad to be together to walk through this stressful, crazy day. Thank heavens for friends in faraway places...

Monday, October 13, 2008

Some thoughts on Kathmandu

Since arriving back in Kathmandu from the peaceful oasis of Pokhara, I find myself longing to get out of this city. Don't get me wrong - there are many beautiful things to see here. I've done the "tourist tour" and visited the largest Buddhist temples - Swayambhunath and Bodhnath - which are beautiful. Swayambhunath is also called the "monkey temple" for a good reason. It is beautiful and we visit near sunset, unfortunately mostly viewing it through the lens of my camera. I must go back.

Today, I went back to Bodhnath, the oldest Buddhist stupa in Kathmandu. Pictured above, it is also a really peaceful and spectacular stupa. Thought I'd been two times previously, today I went towards sundown to experience the swarm of monks that circle it clockwise as the sun in setting. I decided to sit down as walking just didn't feel right. I faced the stupa and closed my eyes. A few minutes later, I felt someone standing in front of me. I opened my eyes and it was a monk dressed in his robes. He was smiling at me, and asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was "listening to Buddha." He laughed and then sat down next to me and we had the most delightful conversation. He told me about his escape from Tibet, the monastery where he lives and we exchanged email addresses (!) so we can remain in contact. Dawa invited me to tour his monastery which I plan to do this weekend.

My favorite Nepal destination so far is the beautiful Pashupatinath. It's the largest and most important of the Hindu temples in all of Nepal. I learn in my guide book that it's devoted to Shiva, the destroyer, specifically to Pashupati, one of Shiva's more peaceful incarnations. Most striking about this place is that it's located along the Bagmati River and is a popular place for cremation ceremonies. It's a surprisingly beautiful event to watch. Watching from the far bank, I can see that logs are stacked on a small cement platform just above the shallow river. The deceased body goes through a series of rituals while their feet are touching the river, and the body is wrapped in beautiful cloths. The body is then carried to the cement platform and placed on top of the logs, which are then lit on fire. Once aflame, the family of the deceased surrounds the body. A family member takes water from the river, returns to the platform, circles the body in a clockwise direction, and then deposits water in the person's mouth. The family leaves the platform and the fire continues to burn. As the embers of the fire are nearly burned out, the still smoking logs and ashes are pushed into the river as an offering to Shiva. I have visited this place twice - the first time in a monsoon with Joanie, Megan, Alyson and Som; the second time this morning for about four hours. It is certainly a rich environment to ponder the realities of life and death.

The traffic in Kathmandu is CRAZY! I know it's probably crazy in most third world countries where the car is a relatively new introduction, but I've certainly never seen anything like this. The roads are narrow, at least 60-80% of the traffic is pedestrian, and there are bicycles, rickshaws, motorcycles, taxis, minivans, animals, tourists, Tiger Balm vendors (bought some!), transport trucks, and various animals. Certainly these streets were busy before the arrival of cars, but be grateful for a good ol' traffic jam in the USA.

As best as I can tell, here are the rules of the Kathmandu road:
1) There are no lanes.
2) There are no speed limits.
3) When traffic stops, honk.
4) If it doesn't move, honk again and hold it.
5) Drivers licenses and knowledge of city geography are optional for cab drivers.
6) The streets have no names, hence there are no street addresses.
7) Street names, as indicated by the "map" can change from one block to the next.
8) Whoever honks the loudest has the right of way.
9) It is fully acceptable for five people to ride on a motorcycle.


Here's a YouTube video on Kathmandu traffic, since I couldn't figure out how to upload my own.... mind-blowing!

I've had a few (um, let's just call them "interesting") experiences with Kathmandu roads and traffic. Here's one that I wish I had photos of to tell the story, but words will have to do. Returning from Pokhara to Kathmandu, Alyson, Megan and I decided to ride the "luxury" tourist bus. About 2.5 hours into our 6.5 hour trip, our bus suddenly stopped. Awakened from a nap, I looked around to see that there were cars in front of me as far as I could see. We waited for a while inside the bus, and after a few minutes our driver informed us that there had been an accident the day before, and the roads were closed because there had been a death. As the bus was heating up we decided to get out and look around. We walked around for a bit and talked to a few Europeans and heard a few more stories about what was actually going on. This much was clear: the road could be closed for five minutes or five days. No one knew. After about three hours had passed, our small group decided to walk ahead past the scene of the "accident" and see if we could get another bus heading to Kathmandu on the other side. About a mile past our bus, we came upon what had obviously very recently been a riot scene: a smoking transport truck that had just been torched in the middle of the road sideways, a public bus with all it's windows smashed and tires slashed, hundreds and hundreds of people - half looking angry and half just carrying on as if this was completely normal. I turned and said to Megan and Alyson, "Just walk fast and don't make eye contact." Well, in this situation, I will tell you that I have never felt like such a White Tourist. I was pulling my convertible backpack (surely a sign of a princess) and wearing my cute new skirt. Needless to say I didn't blend in very well. The good news is that we made it safely past the scene and shortly after we did, the traffic started to move. About an hour later, our original bus finally made it through the scene and it stopped to pick us up - certainly not something that a Greyhound bus in this situation would have done! We were grateful to arrive in Kathmandu almost 12 hours after our ride had begun.

On a happy note, I had mentioned to several of you my joy at having been invited by the Chhetri sisters to celebrate the largest Nepali festival Dasain with their family. Originally, I was thrilled at the invitation as it was just the kind of experience that I am asking for in my trip. Soon after, I looked up the festival only to discover that it included a massive public slaughter of hundreds of thousands of animals in one day. Eeeewwwww.... The festival turned out to be beautiful, and I didn't have to witness any killings, thank Buddha. Upon arriving at the celebration, the Chhetri "mama" gave everyone a tika to honor the goddess Durga's victory over all of evil.

The women of Empowering Women of Nepal (run by the Chhetri sisters) were all dressed up looking beautiful, and handing out sweets for us to enjoy. Then, the children who are also a part of the program came out to dance, giving us an enthusiastic, heartfelt performance. It was one of the sweetest moments of my trip so far. Absolutely a wonderful afternoon!
Despite the craziness of Kathmandu, I am grateful to have a wonderful hotel with a peaceful garden oasis. For now, it is my home and I've made a few friends who I've been spending some time with. It feels really great to just sit still for a few days while I evaluate my next move for the next 30 days in Nepal.

Joanie, Alyson and Megan are all now gone and I'm on my own. I hope (and think) that their trip to Nepal was as life-changing, eye-opening and awe-inspiring as mine has been so far. I will miss them, and am grateful to have had them with me.

With love,
Pam

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

My Own Personal Himalayan Sanctuary

I don't even know where to begin the story of my trek. I will start with a resounding WOW! The essentials:

Route: Annapurna Sanctuary
Days: 11 (we cut it one day short)
Mileage: Approximately 70-80 miles
Weather: Nearly perfect (actually rather hot, except at Base Camp). 90% of the rain fell after we had arrived at our daily destinations, and ended before we awoke.
Terrain:
From 3,000 ft. to 13,200 ft., with lots of ups and downs in between (we estimated that we gained 15,000 feet of elevation over the course of the trek) - forests, rivers, mountains, meadows, waterfalls.
Animals: Langur monkeys, and of course buffalo, sheep, goats, dogs and a few cats.
Views: I had no idea how amazing they would be... Every day there was a new vantage point of the remarkable Himalayas.
Group: Amazing. From left to right, Kathy, Joanie, me, Alyson, Megan and Leila. Kathy is a nurse from Boston, and Leila, a hilarious, 20-something Cannuck on her own spiritual adventure through Nepal and India. This was us all fresh and clean on Day Number One, before we discovered how much we could sweat.
Guides & Porters: As I mentioned previously, the trek was offered through 3 Sisters Adventures in Pokhara, Nepal. I would highly recommend this organization. As we were on an "all woman" trek we had a woman guide - Saru - and even women porters - most of whom weighed less than I do.
Body: I am feeling quite firm, healthy and buff, despite a ridiculous amount of calories in the form of carbohydrates, Pringles, and Snickers bars. (All readily available on the route.) Only bodily mishap - one mildly sprained ankle a day prior to our finish (it could have been much worse!) I was able to finish the trek with a borrowed brace and trekking poles no problem.
Health: Mine good, though Joanie had a pretty yukky head cold for most of the trek (though she still beat me on the trail every day!)
The Verdict: I made it!

Now, about trekking: Trekking is a rigorous adventure. Each day, we walked for between 4-7 hours and gained between 1,000 - 3,000 feet of elevation. There are about 50 million stairs (not an official count) on the Annapurna Sanctuary route, but they are not your standard "American" style of stairs. No, in fact, there is no standard height and they are made almost exclusively out of roughly carved rock, tree roots, or slippery earthen mud. I would guess that the stair height ranged anywhere from 2 inches to 3 feet. Needless to say, we worked hard for every one of the many steps, and it's nothing like the stairs you are used to at home! The elevation gain is slightly deceiving as we often gained only slightly more altitude than we lost in a single day.

A word about sweat. I had A TON of it on this journey! In fact, often we drank up to four liters of water a day which only resulted in a few trips to the bathroom. Most of the liquid excreted from my body was coming in the form of hard earned perspiration and exhalation!

The Annapurna Sanctuary is positively fantastic. The route is shaped somewhat like a wishbone were we walked out on one route (Nayapul to Chomrong), then headed towards the Annapurna Base Camp, backtracked our route to Chomrong, and then headed a different direction (Chomrong to Khare) on the way out. Each day brought a new view of at least one of the spectacular Himalayan mountains (each that we could see more than 21,000 feet high). The views are absolutely breathtaking. We hiked through Rhododendron forests (with trees up to maybe 40-50 feet tall, they are not like this at home!), over bridges of whichI know my mom wouldn't have approved, into bamboo forests, alpine meadows, under waterfalls and through dozens of small villages.

The highlight of my journey was arriving at the Annapurna Base Camp. THIS is why they call the trek the Annapurna Sanctuary. For us, it was a divine gift that was slowly unwrapped for us to experience. When we left our previous rest spot the weather was a bit cloudy and we couldn't see any of the mountains. Saru, our guide, couldn't promise us that the weather would change or that we would get to see the mountains once we arrived. As we got close and were working really hard for every breath, we began to see a tiny bit of blue sky, hinting at the glory that was to come. One cloud parted for about a minute and we were able to see one mountain - Fish Tail. That bit of beauty brought tears to my eyes... it was the moment that I realized that I had arrived at over 13,500 feet, and that my body was strong and my asthmatic lungs (fueled by pharmacy) had made it. This seriously could be one of the biggest and most amazing achievements of my life. And this was before the magic was completely born!

About an hour after we arrived in about as dramatic a fashion as I could have dreamed, the clouds parted and the angels started to sing... it was nearly that mystical!It is called the "sanctuary" because when you arrive you are literally surrounded on all sides by the fantastic Himalayas. Imagine 10 Mount Rainiers, but twice as tall and all around you. The photos can not serve justice to the beauty of this place. I am so grateful to have made it there, and to have witnessed the unveiling!

We watched the sun set over the mountains, creating an orange glow on the eastern slopes. In the morning, we woke early to watch the sunrise in nearly the same fashion except for this show I broke from our group and found a quiet place to sit alone. I closed my eyes and just listened to the mountains. Everyone had their cameras flashing and I couldn't bring myself to interrupt the experience with technology. When I opened my eyes I just started to weep. I had one of the most mystical, magical experiences of my life with those mountains, and did manage to capture a few photos before departing (though I swear the photos can't capture the scale and grandeur.) I can assure you that the universe has given me another sign that this is exactly where I am supposed to be...

Leaving the Sanctuary was a tough experience. That really was our "destination" and as we arrived on day 8, the final days were emotionally a little more taxing. The first part of our journey we were working to get to this amazing place, and coming down it felt like serious work! Still beautiful, but now the stairs seemed twice as big!

Our team of female guides and porters was awesome. 3 Sisters Adventures operates a program called "Empowering Women of Nepal", and it is through this program that they recruit young women to the trekking industry, which is Nepal's largest source of revenue. The women were from 18-25 years old, and each one had a story about a difficult life they were leading before being "discovered" by the Chhetri sisters (who own and operate 3 Sisters Adventures). The women all enjoy the mountains, nature, learning English, singing Nepali songs, and dancing! We shared many heartfelt laughs along the route. I found out after I arrived that 3 Sisters Adventures have just received a 2008 Geotourism Award from National Geographic Magazine. I can say that it is much deserved!

Another amazing discovery on the trek was the positively amazing variations in people that we met along the way. We met a family with three children under 7 years of age, met a 70 year old man who had tried and failed the Sanctuary route 17 years ago, two moms hiking with their two kids (who were married), budget travelers, sabbatical seekers, and many more. It was a wonderful surprise to meet such interesting people along the way.

Near the end of the trek, we opted to cut a day of hiking and one village (Ghandruk) off of the itinerary. The weather was questionable, the rain had fallen the previous night meaning that the leeches would be out and looking for our blood, and the route was 6 hours uphill without a rest stop. Wouldn't you cut that day too?

Alyson, Megan and I trekked at a pace slightly slower than the rest of the group, and dubbed ourselves the "caboose clan". Though we were always the last to arrive by 15 minutes or so, we all enjoyed our "relaxed" pace enormously (if you can call 5,000 steps in one day relaxing). Despite some serious calorie intake, our bodies all seem to have responded with a good deal of tone and muscle, something I hope will last for a while!

One disclaimer: if you are grossed out by the sight or smell of donkey or buffalo dung, consider yourself warned... it is everywhere!

Next for me: celebrating Dasain in Pokhara with the Chhetri sisters (Nepal's largest festival) and then back to Kathmandu with the gals for some final shopping and sightseeing before they all depart on Sunday. After that, I'm not quite sure yet... stay tuned and I'll let you know as soon as I do!

With love and gratitude,
Pam