Leaving from Istanbul to Kathmandu, and choosing to stay for a
month, was one of the boldest moves I have made. I booked my international
flights within a week, in and out of Kathmandu, with no plans for the 30 days
in between. I intended to volunteer in Kathmandu, living in a homestay and
working in a school.
When I arrived at the airport, I was retrieved by my homestay dad,
Shanker, and introduced to the basics of Nepali life. The primary introduction
consisted of the smallest international airport I’ve been to yet, (smaller than
my home town domestic airport in New Hampshire).
Dirt roads. Dust everywhere! The streets in Kathmandu were a basic
free for all. In between cars driving on the left side of the road, were
motorcycles getting through traffic in whatever way possible. On several
occasions during my stay Shanker – or friends I made – took me around the city
on their motorcycles. The potholes were so excessive that we would be driving
at full force head on towards an oncoming car or motorcycle, not turning until
the last minute. The roads of Nepal were most commonly a free for all.
Thankfully, the most dangerous roads were at least partway paved.
The Hindi traditions I learned while in Kathmandu consisted of observing my host family’s living and eating habits. My host sister, Chunchun, introduced me to Bollywood MTV and we would create dances for hours on end. She and I goofed around a lot, and had fun being kids.
The
food at the house was always Dahl Bat.
Dahl Bat is a traditional meal,
typically eaten twice daily (more or less). It consists of rice, a small
portion of vegetables, and a vegetable or chicken liquid to pour on the rice. The common phrase, is Dahl Bat 24 hour power! You can eat it any time, anywhere.
Before eating, the family would each take a small amount of rice (a fingernail size) and place it on the table next to their meal before beginning to utterly engulf their food with their right hand. I followed suit with the new traditions, learning that the rice set aside was a sacrifice to the Gods, and holding my hand a certain way so as to push the food into my mouth with my thumb was a more efficient way to eat.
Before eating, the family would each take a small amount of rice (a fingernail size) and place it on the table next to their meal before beginning to utterly engulf their food with their right hand. I followed suit with the new traditions, learning that the rice set aside was a sacrifice to the Gods, and holding my hand a certain way so as to push the food into my mouth with my thumb was a more efficient way to eat.
I didn’t learn until a week later, that even Nepalese don’t always
eat with their hands, and it wasn’t really necessary for me to do so.
Nonetheless, I preferred it. It gave me purpose to play with my food.
Shanker Man insisted on taking me to several different locations
in Kathmandu at his own behest. When I went to the temples, I rang the bell in
front of the Hindi statues, placed flowers on my head, and filled myself with
the positive energy from the gods. Some of my favorite gods are the dancing Shiva
(the destroyer), Surya Ganesh (incarnate of Vishnu the preserver), and Brahma
(of course, the creator). The first Temple I've ever been to was Monkey Temple, and the reason they call it Monkey Temple, is because on the grounds of the temples are thousands of... monkeys. Thousands. I fed them with crackers that we bought at the market, and some crawled onto my leg. They weren't the nicest monkeys though, fighting each other and screaming a sound that made me think they might attack me.
Unfortunately, I did not receive any details about the volunteer
work that I was meant to do in Kathmandu, other then where the school was
located. Once I arrived, I learned that the children were very young, and
having worked in several different parts of the world with children, I wasn’t
comfortable becoming attached with them if I only planned to stay a few days.
It’s not healthy for children to make attachments and for those people to
always leave them. Not to mention, there was no volunteer work needed at the
location.
On a daily basis, I began to walk or ride the motorbike with Shanker to his money exchange office in the main tourist hub of Kathmandu, called Thamel. One of his new employees, Rabin, became a good friend of mine and introduced me to the relaxed nightlife of the locals. Each night I walked with Rabin twenty minutes to where his friend owns a shop. Although, I’m sure his friend owns a “secret hangout disguised as a shop” since we had to walk through dark allies behind buildings and needed a flashlight just to find the place. There were rugs in the room that were meant for selling… but they were the same rugs every day. I asked Ring, Rabin’s friend and my new friend, when the last time he sold a rug was. There was no coherent response. I became friends with all of the regulars who came to Ring’s shop in the evening to drink homemade whiskey and play cards. The oldest man in the group, Barbar, who I called Baba (father), drove me home at the end of the evening before he went home to his wife. I was thankful for that since the dirt roads were deserted after 9pm. Rabin and I even stumbled across his friend Kim on the first night that I went to Ring’s shop. Kim is an American who has been living in Nepal working for a Non-Governmental Organization and studying Nepali. She is so sweet and full of life that she insisted on meeting me. We became instant friends, just like everyone else that Rabin introduced me to. By the time I left Kathmandu, I felt like I had created a family.
Ring, Baba, Soogar, and Rajis, are among these amazing guys! |
If I hadn’t stayed at the homestay - with Shanker, Chunchun, her
mom Padma, and grandma who I called “Ma” - then I might not have had some of
the amazing opportunities that I had. One of the family members who came over
for a visit one day, spoke English very well and was fascinated with my travels
and my work as a social worker. It turns out, that he (Mygendra) is the #1
exporter of wool in Nepal, and had been looking for a social worker to communicate
and empathize with the men and women who work in his factory. Many Nepalese
women live difficult lives, and having someone to counsel them and hear their
stories is very important. The next day, he was gracious to bring me to his
factory 18km outside of Kathmandu to a town called Baktapur. There, he gave me a
tour, introduced me to many of his employees including an American distributor
named Matt, and conducted several business meetings with me about ethics and
interpersonal relationships in business. In between working with Matt and
Mygendra, and touring the factory, I had a few hours to kill before we all
drove back into Kathmandu. As if Mygendra wasn’t already showing immense
hospitality, he had his factory chauffeur take me on a motorbike into the
center of Baktapur to see the temples, and try some of the traditional local
foods. Baktapur is famous for being home to the milk curd. I went to eat at the
Curd King, where I learned that milk curd tastes like ice cream and most locals
don’t like it because many don’t like cold foods. I understand, because cold
means that it isn’t necessarily hygienic, so they don’t eat cold food often. I
wished that I could take a bucket of the stuff from the Curd King and bring it
back to America, but dairy doesn’t work like that.
The people of Nepal were extremely loving and warm to me. However,
I couldn’t stay in Kathmandu for one month. The pollution of dust from the
unpaved roads, and sidewalk-less streets were enough to make me feel like I was
nursing a cold the entire time that I was staying there. I took medicine every
day, and eventually my allergic reactions really did turn into a cold.
Something people in Western civilization don’t seem to think about
often, is how lucky we are to not deal with the pollution that is all over Asia. It’s hard to breathe some
days. My nose might burn, or my eyes might not be able to open on days when the
pollution is bad. I will never take advantage of fresh air, ever again. The
reason I didn’t leave Kathmandu sooner, was because my passport was being held
at the Chinese Embassy for my visa, and on the day when I went to retrieve it,
I didn’t have U.S. Dollars to pay the visa fee. I learned the hard way, that
because I am a U.S. Citizens I can only pay for my visa fees in USD all over Asia.
It took me two days to find an exchange place that would give me USD, and then
another day to book my bus out of Kathmandu. The trick was to figure out where
I should go.
On the plane ride in from Turkey, I met a 70-something year old
woman who was traveling with her son to go climb Mount Everest. She told me,
that if I have time to travel around Nepal, I should go to Chitwan National
Park. So, without much of a plan, I booked a lodge and left the next morning on
a 6 hour bus ride - through mountains on winding roads - to the south of Nepal. Into the jungle, if you will. I was happy to have some time outside of the city, with fresh air, to recover from whatever I had caught.
Leaving Kathmandu and entering into the unknown, was the biggest
adventure I had in Nepal. Every day was brand new, unplanned, and uninformed.
The first day I rested. In Sauraha, bordering the wild jungle of
Chitwan National Park, there were no streetlights, and the fence across the
street that separates the world from the wild jungle was less than intact. It
was not safe to walk around at night after 7pm. My first day at the lodge was spent
reading and eating Momo (Tibetan & Nepali style dumplings).
I wasn’t alone for long. One night I found friendship with a 6
year-old boy, who loved dancing. It didn’t take me long to get the lodge bar to turn
up the music, and dance for hours with this little guy, whose name was close to
sounding like CVS. Between watching Bollywood in Kathmandu, dancing with my
homestay sister Chunchun, and dancing with CVS, I had pretty much nailed some
of the classic twisting and pumping moves that are popular in the country.
Before you know it, CVS and I were tying scarves around our heads and shaking
our tails off. It was a perfect release, since earlier that day I had spent 5
hours riding a rented bicycle across unpaved jagged roads through the community
jungle. My butt was killing me. I didn’t want to lie down and sleep at 7pm, but I
didn’t want to sit around either. A good shake-off and dance competition was
just the ticket. Just before my dance-off competition - after my rigorous
bicycle journey, with the jagged roads, and mental struggle - I said a prayer
asking God for me to only encounter goodness and perfect conditions to uplift
me. Prayers answered? Check.
That’s how I met my friend Anna. In the course of my dance
competition with CVS, I noticed that a red haired smiling girl was watching us
and laughing. Of course I looked silly, but I always thought silliness made me
more extraordinary, not less. When it was finally time to take a break, I sat down
for dinner and invited Anna to join me. Immediately
I connected with this girl. I still don't know her life history, her family,
native language of Swedish, or even what her favorite anything is, but she has a light about her that speaks far more than
words – a light that only people who are deeply routed in goodness can have. It
only took another full day of trekking in the jungle together for me to learn
that I could trust her, and that meeting her was quite literally an immediate
answer to my prayers.
The jungle trek was a life-risking adventure! I participated in a
half-day trek before, however, I didn’t get to see any animals. I fell in love with
the excitement of searching for them in the jungle with our guide.
The day after meeting Anna I had, literally, the perfect day full
of goodness. I was refusing to pay the extra $17 that the lodge was aiming to
charge me for another jungle walk – particularly since every time I entered the
office to inquire about the cost, someone gave me a different price. It was
easy to know that they were inventing an exploitative commission. The jungle
guide overheard that I wanted to go, but did not want to pay such a ridiculous
commission. $17 in Nepal is equal to 1,700 rupees, which is equal to 3 or 4
nice meals. The guide found me, snuck me aside, and told me I could pay the
park directly, and his fee directly, and save the extra money. This is how
my perfect day started. God's plan in motion! So I grabbed my snacks
and my water, and headed into the jungle with Anna and a couple - Marlaine and
Stephan. I always know when I’m in good company, because I just feel it. When I
feel that I am in good company I am also usually curious to learn what everyone
does for a living. I wasn’t surprised to learn that I was spending the day with
two psychologists and a social worker. Knowing that someone works in a
profession grounded in empathy and love, can speak volumes to their
personality.
Left to Right: Stephan, me, Marlaine, & Anna |
Our journey into the jungle began riding in a hollowed tree canoe
up the Rapti River until we arrived deep into the edge of the Sauraha side of
the Chitwan jungle.
Along our ride we saw over 15 different alligators and 10
different kinds of birds. We heard from canoe drivers, walking their boats up river, that we
were approaching a rhinoceros. When we approached the feasting fiend, we pulled
the canoe over to the side of an eroded cliff and hand climbed up a wall of vines
and mud, so that we were within a few feet of the rhino! We whispered and took
safety precautions, (like remembering to huddle together or locate the nearest
climbable tree) as we followed the rhino up the path in his giant wake. The
most exciting part was walking across naturally made log bridges, careful not
to fall into a sinking pit of mud, and hand climbing up the wall and back down
afterwards.
Once we continued on our journey we arrived in the jungle,
laughing and joking all along the way. It wasn’t until after our lunch break
that our trek guide told us, whatever we have to say, to get it out of the way
and shhh from here on out. We were
searching for a tiger after all. He gave us all of the safety tips. If a rhino
or tiger approaches, climb a tree. If a bear approaches, huddle together and
grab a weapon, or run like hell as your final option for any life threatening situation. Our guide was amazing, he stopped to smell poop just to tell us how long ago the animal was there. I always made sure to stay close behind him.
After a 4 hour hike through the jungle, silent laughter, and
seeing a number of different wild animals, we all headed back, showered up and
then joined another couple for dinner and card games. Coincidentally it was on
thanksgiving, and with the new bonds I made, I was so thankful to be with
amazing loving company and great food!
The manager of the restaurant is someone I will never forget. His name was Osac, and he was entertaining to talk to because of
his choice English phrases - said with his stronh Nepali/Hindi/Indian accent - were some
of the highlights of the evening. For example, every time he approached our
table (between long intervals, sometimes hours) he would say “ahh yes, excuse
me yes. Is okay?” Meanwhile, we haven’t been served anything. “yes, is okay” was
his most common phrase. On one occasion we had been waiting a half hour after
ordering some classic foods, like Momo and Dahl Bat, before Osac came over and
said, “excuse me, excuse me. Yes, the food is not coming.” Why? "Your food is coming, but your food is not coming. We have no Momo." It was odd that he would say
that they don’t have Momo. It was on the menu, and is a simple and classic
Nepali dish. Not to mention that we had ordered quite some time ago. Osac
paused a little bit as if to chew on his words a little bit, mumbling, and then
pointed to the man at the table next to us while he said, “Well, there is no
Momo… because the chef is very drunk.” (You mean, that guy over there who has
been harassing us and coming to sit at our table?) We all sat for one second
before making eye contact with each other and bursted out in laughter. I asked
between fits of amusement, ‘So who is making our food? Do you need help?’ And
he said, “is okay, he make only the Momo. We have no Momo because he is very
drunk.” We laughed hysterically at the language, and the circumstances. Osac didn’t sugar coat it at all, and the Momo chef was very very drunk. Drunkenness and alcohol are looked down on quite a bit in Hindu and Muslim countries, so all of the factors were surprising and hillarious.
The honesty of Nepali people is brilliant.
Needless to say, we did not have Momo, but the food was still good.
We polished the night off teaching each other card games we knew
from our varying home countries.
My goals around Nepal, aside from trekking in the jungle, were
also to travel north in order to go trekking in the Himalayas. Without a
partner, or a guide I couldn’t afford, it seemed impossible, so again I took my
needs to God, and told Him that if I am meant to go trekking, then the perfect
conditions would arise.
The next day I made the decision to travel to a place called
Lumbini, across the top of Chitwan National Park to the Western border between
India and Nepal. It turned out, that in order for Anna to take a bus to India,
she also had to go to Lumbini – so we decided to go together.
Lumbini is a large sector marked as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It
is 3 miles by 1 mile and is best known for its temples and for being the
birthplace of Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha) in 623 BC.
After our walkabout, Anna and I returned to our hostel room. The
hostel was probably the poorest conditions I’ve stayed in. We were the only
guests in the facility, and aside from the bugs spattered on the wall, and no
net hanging over the bed – I didn’t have any complaints. I can stay anywhere as
long as I feel safe. So I asked for nets (to protect from bugs carrying
diseases), and what the hostel owner gave us were essentially, moth nets the
shape of tablecloths and tied up over our bed in various positions around the
room. I felt satisfied after that, and it was quite a sight to see!
The
conditions of Lumbini were the poorest developed that I had seen in all of
Nepal. I brought toilet paper and germX with me everywhere in the country,
since although the Turkish toilets were always available; there was never toilet paper or paper of any kind
and often no water. There was definitely no hot water.
From Lumbini I planned to go to Pokhara, Nepal, where I would go
trekking for 4 days at the start of the Annapurna Circuit in the Himalayas –
provided that my perfect conditions arose. Anna had finished climbing Mount
Everest not too long before we met and was interested in trekking in the
Annapurna region despite her previous plans for India. So when I said before
that God answered my prayers to give me the perfect circumstances, Anna was
very much an answer to my prayers, not once, but twice! Rather than go our
separate ways from Lumbini, she traveled with me another 8 hours to Pokhara Nepal where we stayed for a few days in
between trekking.
After a grueling twisting and turning ride through the mountains,
Anna and I arrived at a hostel just before my motion sickness started to kick in.
Pokhara was a whole new world compared to Kathmandu, Chitwan or Lumbini. There
were paved roads, thick sidewalks, and many modern westernized restaurants and
shop stalls. My favorite part about the restaurants was the free popcorn they served. The
city overall was more organized, better suited for tourism, and welcoming. It
would be easy to go out for a night on the town in Pokhara.
We stayed in a hostel for two nights before leaving early in the
morning to begin our trek. I rented a backpack so that I wouldn’t have to carry
all of my things, and I purchased lots of under armor. We were heading above
the clouds and it was not tropical weather in Nepal! Trekking at this time of
year surrounded us with snow and cold after a certain altitude. On our first
night in Pokhara we returned from an adventurous encounter with some locals, followed by
an evening dinner. Later, a girl staying up the hall from us in the hostel
approached us. She was from California and traveling alone wishing to go on a
trek. I was hesitant at first, as I sometimes am with new people I meet, but as
it turned out, Azin (was her name) was a lovely young woman who introduced us
to her Australian friend. By the end of our second night in Pokhara, we had
created a small trekking group; me, Azin, Anna, and Rob. Rob was heading out to
go to Annapurna I - which is the Annapurna Base Camp - and the rest of us were
aiming to do the first three days of the trek before heading back on the fourth
day. Rob had a guide (named Delhi), and was interesting to talk to because of
his deep affection for animals and his experience trekking. I was grateful to
have happened to be traveling with someone who paid for a guide also because
there may have been a couple of parts on the trail where I wasn’t sure which
way to turn. Delhi was nice enough to always tell me how much further we had to
go too.
If those aren’t the perfect conditions, then I don’t know what
are!
Our 5-person group ventured out and for the first two days we
climbed steps up the mountain to 3,200m (10,498 ft). It was consistently steps
all the way to the peak called Poon Hill. The steps were often piles of rocks
or branches, and the inconsistency of them made it a challenge. Staying at
teahouses at night was also a new experience. The beauty of trekking in Nepal
is that all along the route are villages, and in those villages are guesthouses
that cost between $1-5 a night. After a certain altitude the guesthouses no
longer offered hot water or electricity, but all along the way we encountered
the same menu for food and ate the same delicious local treats. I ate lots and
lots of chocolate. In the evening after trekking we would shower (or not),
relax, kick up our feet, and play cards over tea and dinner.
On the second day, rather than get up at sunrise to go to the top
of Poon Hill, I wanted to go and watch the sun set. I was tired. The stairs
were astonishingly challenging on the second day. There was no way I wanted to
wake up in the freezing cold before the sun came up in order to go to the top
of the mountain for the start of a 7-hour trekking day. So instead, my entire
group went along with my idea and joined me up to the top of Poon Hill that
evening to watch the sun set. Our day was a 6-hour trekking day, and it was
perfectly worth it. In the wind I stood for 20 minutes watching the distant
mountains of Annapurna and Machupuchre turn dark blue, and then pink and purple
until finally the sun was set. Afterwards we hiked back down the steps for an
hour before snuggling up near the heater in the guesthouse and playing a fun
game of Uno with other trekkers. The trekking life is a work hard play hard
life!
Left to Right: Me, Anna, Rob, & Azin |
The third day of trekking was the best day, in my opinion. We
weren’t going up stairs the whole
time, but we also weren’t going down stairs the whole time. The views were
spectacular as we weaved through the jungle terrain passing waterfalls and
crossing bridges.
After saying our goodbyes to Rob as he continued on his trek,
Azin, Anna, and I headed down the mountain and eventually back to Pokhara. While
Anna rested to recover from a sickness, Azin and I had our celebratory farewell
dinner together (complete with popcorn. Two nights later I was on my own once again. It was sad to be on my own after splitting from Anna and our new friends. I felt like I had met my soul sister by how connected we were so quickly. It was such a blessing to meet al of them.
After trekking, I decided to stay in Pokhara for a week, doing nothing and
enjoying my down time. I shopped for Christmas presents for my godsister who I
would stay with in China for the holidays. I ate delicious food, read my books,
and rested up for the days to come. For only three days in the week I explored
parts of Pokhara beyond walking along the Lakeside and main roads.
I rented a
motorcycle to ride to the top of a mountain where a well-known village called
Sarangkot is home to a popular paragliding launch site. It was exciting for me
to ride a motorcycle on the left side of the road, let alone on the edge of
cliffs, along the side of a mountain, high in the sky. For a long time I had
been afraid of heights, and afraid of speed (or loss of control), so conquering
my fears and allowing myself to be lost, spontaneous, and virtually out of
control, was a freeing feeling. I stopped along my route to take pictures and
watch the paragliders take off.
One of my last days in Pokhara was spent taking a canoe boat to a
hill where at the top sits the World Peace Pagoda. There are many peace pagodas
in the world but this is the only World Peace Pagoda. From the canoe I hiked
for one hour on slippery mud paths up to the Pagoda, read all of the plaques
and paid homage to the symbols at the top and the amazing view of the Annapurna
Conservation. It seems every mountain I climbed there was an amazing view of
the Annapurna Conservation. As they sing in the Sound of Music, climb every mountain, ford every stream, follow every rainbow, 'till you find your dream.
After taking photos I headed back down the mountain
to find a French and German man, lost at the beginning of the trekking path. They needing to locate a canoe to return
to Lakeside, Pokhara - and I already had my canoe waiting for me. We hiked for an hour or so, chatting and laughing. After
getting dinner at the lake we headed back for a stroll along the main street
before parting our separate ways.
The next day I traveled back to Kathmandu so that I could have a few days to say goodbye to everyone before flying to China. It was a long day of travel, the true Asian way.
After only an hour of driving, our bus hit a motorcyclist. I knew when I got
onto the bus that this would happen – I just knew it. The reason I knew is
because for two consecutive days prior I had seen motorcycle accidents. As Paulo Coehlo says in the Alchemist if
something happens once it probably won’t happen again, but if something happens
twice it will definitely happen again. So it was no surprise when my bus was
delayed at an accident site and later at the police station for about 3 hours.
The other ironic side-note that was thrown in for good measure –
the name of the bus company was “Open Heart.”
When I arrived in Kathmandu it was raining, and dirt everywhere
means mud.
I walked in the mud and the rain looking for a hostel that I didn’t
book or locate. I entered three or four hostels before I found one that was
affordable, clean, and in a fantastic location. I kicked off my shoes, went to
dinner, and messaged all of my Kathmandu friends to let them know I was back in
town. The next night, all of the people I became friends with for the first few
weeks in Nepal, invited me to do the same old, drinks and cards, and an
enjoyable late night. Much to my pleasure and surprise, it turned into what
felt like a going away party. We took pictures, and Kim even gave me presents! When
I left the next day, I felt like I was leaving my family.
The people in Nepal were all so relatable and warm to me. All of my experiences were good and personable. I became friends with every shop owner. I became friends with every other person with my spontaneity and openness. The nature of Nepal is beautiful in and of itself, and although Nepali business people have a willingness to exploit tourists because they are in need of money, I have complete understanding, compassion and love for them all. It was a perfect month, and so far, it was the longest that I’ve been in one country since I began traveling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
To top it all off... I saw Mount Everest on the flight out.