My Nepali Family

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.

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.  

The exact birthplace of Buddha in 623 BC. Govered in plexiglass and different foreign currencies, but underneathe is a good ol' slab of granite.

Anna and I spent only 3 hours on the gardened land where dozens of temples are represented from around the world. When I entered the Maya Devi temple where the original ruins from Buddha’s birthplace are kept safe inside of a plexiglass entrapment, I saw before me ancient ruins from before Christ. The walkway follows along the walls of the temple, while the ruins stand in the center, and a ramp leads out so that people can go closer to the exact birthplace. Lying on the ruins were currencies from all over the world to be collected for donation to the temple. As I entered to the left circling around the ruins, a group of Buddhist monks from China entered in a single file line. Slowly they took steps in a single file line, one step at a time, allowing their feet to kiss the ground – and chanting in their native tongue. I joined in the line. I don’t know what they were saying, but the use of tones is what’s soothing, not necessarily the words of the chant. I circled around, and afterward felt refreshed and renewed, as if my head had cleared.

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.

 

The view from our hostel in Pokhara, Nepal

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.

Me in my Nepal hat that Kim gave me as a going away gift, and the one and only Ring!

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.

Turning Dark to Light - The Art of Solo Travel

There is a particular struggle that comes in solo travel, that I think emphasizes the struggle of every day life. Everyone is solo traveling in their life. But struggle, is  apart of every day life so sometimes it doesn’t feel at all like struggling. What westerners would call “struggle” in a third world country, doesn’t necessarily feel like that there. People are just surviving the way they were raised to survive. Maybe that’s a struggle for someone unfamiliar with a third world way of life, but for many it's simply instinct and upbringing. Its just people doing what they have to do. There’s no desperation. No sense of defeat. It’s just that, everyone has a goal in mind and the struggle can come from feeling whether that goal is attainable or not. Get clean drinking water today - that’s doable. Have a hot shower today – doesn’t feel as doable. Sometimes the goal is there, and you can reach it, but it takes a hell of a lot of work to get to it. There’s always an “ah shit” moment when I realize that I’m not halfway to my goal like I might have thought. There aren’t too many ah shit moments in my day-to-day, but they’re there. Sneaking up on me. And it’s never ah shit I don’t want to do that. It’s ah shit I have to do that to make the next step.

I discovered that all of the “ah shits” seem to mesh together into one big unhappy response. That’s my negative side. Sometimes when my negative comes out, it’s hard to shut her up. Then, if or when the negative takes over completely, I become impatient, distant, bored, and albeit angry. Testy. Touchy. Tetchy.  It’s like I’m off of my drug (the drug of positive thinking). That’s when the struggle kicks in. It becomes lonely, and I’m too irritable to make friends because I don’t trust anyone (because the trusting turns off too).  I’m looking up at the mountain I have to climb to get to my goal (for me its, enlightenment, goodness, the next step), and, rather than enjoying doing it, I think, “ah shit” I still have to do all this stuff.

Where is the joy in it?

That's the struggle in solo travel, in life and for everyone - it's keeping the negative thinking inside tamed, and quiet. Otherwise, when the negative comes out from the darkness, all of the light and goodness of life goes and hides from it, waiting until its gone. Getting it gone is tough.

Usually when I am negative, The Universe sends me an omen to redirect my thinking attention. The other day, I was in the jungle enjoying a rugged bicycle adventure. 30km, in a $2 rental bike, with unpaved torn up roads, was a challenging adventure. The challenge was to enjoy it. I wasn’t. I was alone in the jungle (which adds a sense of danger and excitement) biking to a lake where there would be crocodiles and rhinoceros (otherwise which I know nothing about). There was hardly any bike cushion, and my ass was sore from riding over the rocks, so I had to stop a few times to walk it off. The bruises were there for days. Thanks to the rugged roads, I mastered balance while jackhammering by the time the day was done. I didn’t see any rhinos, or crocs. I just biked to the watering hole on the other side of the jungle, explored a little bit, took pictures, and biked back.

While I biked I thought about some things. Like:

There always seems to be a couple of Nepali guys who want to know where I’m from. And after I tell them, they always want me to repeat it. I’ve contemplated not answering at all, but isn’t that rude? It’s not like it’s the same guy every time, it’s not like he’s saying anything rude, or sexual, and I am obviously a foreigner. But then what if, because it happens all the time every day, I begin to feel harassed? Is that just the next guy’s problem? Don’t get me wrong, I know what harassment feels like and I know how to handle myself in those situations. I went to school in New York City – I have heard all kinds of catcalls, and experienced all kinds of forwards. But here in Nepal, it’s just “hello miss, what is your name?” or just “hello” or “where are you from?” My immediate thought is usually, why are you talking to me? But, isn’t that a negative way of thinking? I often respond by saying my answer and spark a conversation, or I walk away without words thinking; pretend you don’t know he’s talking to you. It does feel like harassment if the guy walks up beside me, while I am walking, and takes side steps while he asks me these questions. That’s often when I say "Hello" and keep moving, or pretend I don’t speak the language he is talking to me in. Why are you side stepping your way onto my path? No, I don’t want to buy anything from you.

In those moments I am relying on my instinct to show me the good people, and keep me away from the bad ones. It’s not my problem how they talk. It’s my problem how I deal with it. I realize that how I perceive these encounters can become very negative. But there are ways of staying safe without being negative – for sure. The best thing to do is just to walk away, and join casual conversations that come up naturally. Be honest. I can determine whether I am being presented an opportunity to create sincere and good friendships, or I can walk away because being with some people doesn’t give me the feeling of friendship. It’s just an internal judgment that I make. Trust your instincts, it's God’s voice in you.

Whatever way I handle any situation, my negative side still sneaks up on me sometimes. And when that happens, suddenly I’m closed off, and suspicious of every guy who is trying to talk to me without purpose. That’s when I get stressed. Then it’s like I’m sick – I can’t just turn it off because I hate it, it’s a sickness, I have to take care of myself to get over it - and when I’m sick I just want my mommy and that can lead to loneliness. I told myself when I began this trip, I will think of my family often but I will not dwell. Dwelling is just another negative thing to bring me down. Why is some invisible negative force always trying to bring me down!?

Partway through the first leg of my bike ride, my thinking pattern revealed an epiphany. When my first response to people or situations is the sad or unhappy part of the experience, it blocks all of my pure judgment and instinct. Trusting in my instinct guides my way more often than not. So when I’m negative, is when I feel lost. When that happens, I can’t hear my instinct and I'm making calls based on anger and fear rather than instinct. By then I can't even tell if I'm acting on fear or intuition. Then I'm completely blind.

It’s the same struggle in every life. It’s hard to hear God when my ears are clogged with negative shit. It’s hard to have confidence, trust, openness, insight, and love. That’s what the negatives take away from me. So I fight it off, because that’s my trust and my love! That’s my confidence! I will fight to the death for those. The hardest battle is internal between light and dark.

Sometimes, I am so deep in negative mode, that I forget how to fight it off. Herein lies the omen that the Universe will give me in my darkest moments. When I am that far deep, like that short period that I wasn’t fully enjoying my bike adventure, I come across an omen that helps. Today I said a few prayers and it got me through the biking so that I was able to change my attitude and really love it. I laughed at all of my pain, how bad the roads were, how my shitty bicycle could endure it. It was funny. But only after I manifested some muscle pain. Muscle pain from negativity I bet. Stress in the shoulders, negativity in the hips.

I did some yoga, and more prayers.

It helped.

But it wasn’t until I came across this amazing passage in a book I’m reading by Florence Scovel Shin called “The Power of the Spoken Word.” She showed me exactly what I was experiencing, and why, and how to change it.

“All life is vibration. You combine with what you notice, or you combine with what you vibrate to. If you are vibrating to injustice and resentment you will meet it on your pathway, at every step. You will certainly think it is a hard world and that everybody is against you. Hermes Trismegistus said several thousand years ago, “To change your mood you must change you vibrations.” I make it even stronger; I say, to change your world, you must change your vibrations. Turn on a different current in our battery of thought, and you’ll see the difference immediately.

Then, she persists to give an exciting affirmation that clicked with me immediately.

“God appreciates me, therefore every one and every thing appreciates me. I appreciate my self.”

The reason that affirmation worked for me, was not because I was having a hard time appreciating my self, but because I wasn’t appreciating the world around me, and that affects my appreciation of self. The world is very much a part of me, and I am a part of it. If I treat it negatively, I feel negative in my life – mostly because the world will get negative right back. I didn’t appreciate how my self was responding to the universe, and I could see negative patterns and experiences becoming more frequent. I thought, if every one and every thing appreciates me, than I should appreciate every one and every thing right back. Let’s turn on a happy face, world, lets have some sunshine. With that, I condemned my negative thoughts, saying that I want back my happy, trusting, open, loving self.

Then, instantly the day got brighter. Instantly. I felt all my negativity float away. I remember one of my favorite sayings, When you look at the world and think ‘this is terrible’ God says, “terrible? You haven’t seen anything yet…” but when you look at the world and think, “this is perfect” God says, “perfect? You haven’t seen anything yet…”

I just have to look at it as good and perfect. One of my moral rules, which I inherited from my friend Stephanie whom I met in Ireland, is to never complain. I catch myself when I slip up and begin to complain, but having the rule helps me. Complaining just perpetuates more negative thoughts. It’s for that reason that I love ignorance. I want to be ignorant of pain, sorrow, and negativity. If I can be ignorant to the negative things that some people focus on, then I can blissfully go about my day enjoying every second – no matter what happens.

I finished my bike ride like a rock star, loving every bit of it.

That’s how I say “bye” to the Pandora’s Box of negative thinking.

Now I’m ready, again, for every moment to be anew, and to look at the world with light and wonder.

I will put up a fight against darkness. Fight loneliness and boredom with love and trust. We are all journeying through our lives. We are alone, while never alone. Remembering that we’re never alone is a lot harder to do, since feeling alone can be so easy. Seeing the glass half full, and still asking for more, is not gratitude or love. It’s just half full, which is better than half empty or nonexistent. That’s the journey that everyone experiences solo. The internal battle between light and dark. That’s everyone’s life, isn’t it? It’s the struggle of solo travel.

My challenge is the same as everyone else’s. Have poise. Follow intuition. Be open. Be positive. Love endlessly. Meditate. Keep my personal space organized. Take care of my body. Be kind. Have patience. Follow the bright side. Be fearless and without worry. Keep silence sacred. Say “I can” all the time. Be good with the world.

Then the light will overcome the dark, and all that’s left to experience is goodness. Peace and prosperity go hand in hand. That’s the beautiful universe at work. The art of the world.

The art of solo travel.