I didn’t want to leave
After my time in Chitwan I ventured off to Pokhara to figure out what my next adventure would be. I met Natalie on couchsurfing.com and we planed to do a trek together after she wwoofed on a organic coffee farm in the mountains near Begnas Lake. Well after she got there she wouldn’t come down to go trekking with me so I decided to go up the mountain to meet her and figure out what this paradise was all about.
I did some sketchy bank transactions in Pokhara and then left early one morning for Bignas Lake on September 5th. From Bignas I took another bus to Bhanjayang where I then climbed the mountain for about an hour asking for Surya’s house. Natalie met me about ¾ of the way to the home and I could tell by her persona it was going to be a great 10 days. I met Elise, a 19 year old aussie who was also staying there and ama and bua (mom and dad).
Nothing I can say will really sum up ama and bua but they have the most wonderful essence about them. Their philosophy is that they are your parents away from home and they love to laugh. All the factors combined made for a perfect experience. The first day was just a preview to how good it was going to get: ama took Natalie into the woods, showed her a broken TV and mosquito net and then without warning squatted down and peed. It caught Natalie by much surprise, but ama just said she was giving nitrogen to the tree. This was followed by hoots of laughter and ama telling us not to tell bua. “Ama urine” continues to be a joke. So after that we had an amazing meal crafted by ama followed by some after dinner “dessert” and a baby buffalo being born! It was a day full of surprises and I felt like I had already been there for weeks.
Now I’ve stayed in small villages before but I’ve always been alone. It’s always been okay, but it isn’t always easy leaving the conveniences (like toilets and showers) of more developed places. Plus on top of it you have to adapt to an entire different culture and way of life. So, what I’m trying to say is that this has been by far one of my best village stay experiences because I was able to share it with 3 other amazing girls.
Wait. Three? Yeah, Danielle trekked up the mountain on my third afternoon on the farm. She’s 24 and resides in Portland. She sold her car so she could travel for about eight months (cool girl). She became my roommate (which I was delighted about because the rats didn’t make for perfect company) and the four of us were like peas in a pod.
Ama left on my forth day at the farm to travel to Bangalore, India for a sustainable organic farming conference. It was her first time on a plane and we were all so excited for her. That left bua to the cooking. I think we began to realize on the third or forth day that bua only knows how to cook four things: rice, dal, zucchini, and bitters. So needless to say, we got a little tired of eating the same things and were very glad when ama came back after six long days. Also, there was a bit of a hang-up as ama normally milks the buffalo twice a day. Bua tried doing this in her absence but the buffalo refused to give milk. So, a lady neighbor (who we also called ama) came by twice a day, put on ama’s saree and shawl and went undercover as ama so the buffalo would give milk…only in Nepal.
During the day we read and played a lot of games. We did some work to with the two other amas who work for ama and bua. (Now if you think there are too many amas to keep straight, imagine how they called all of us girls “sister.”) These amas –that we dubbed “hardcore ama” and little ama” are two wonderful and hard working women. We helped them till one day, weed another, and pick out all the worms from the compost. (Yes we picked out worms from a huge pile of dirt. And throughout the monotony I thought about all my friends who would never do it.) The scenery for weeding and tilling were phenomenal and we got to take them in several times while the ama’s had their cig break.
Ama arrived from Banglore on my last night at the farm. She had many exciting things to tell and give to us. We got many sweets out of the deal! She wanted to save the best for last, so after dinner she broke out some organic sweets they were selling at the conference. They were about dark brown one inch by one inch blocks of pure sugar with a molasses flavor. When we were handed them Natalie made comment on how they looked like what she feed her horses, but nothing more was really said. Then we started sucking on them and it was pretty nasty and we were all sure if we were to eat the whole thing we would be up all night long, maybe even running up and down the mountainside because of all the sugar. Finally, it might have been ama or a combination of all of us who agreed what we were sucking on was pretty nasty. Ama apologized by saying she didn’t really know what she was buying when she bought them she just knew they were advertised as organic sweets and everyone was buying three or four bags. Then I think it was Elise who picked up the package and started reading. It never explicitly said, but we’re pretty sure we were eating animal treats. We all had a good laugh and dumped the rest of our sugar cubes into the buffalo’s scrap bucket. And still, some of us were up into the wee hours of the morning…either because of the sugar high or rats…
The last day I was there I stayed for the first meal of the day because ama was cooking and I was ready for variety. She blew us out of the water and it made me want to stay even more than I did before…but I had to descend the mountain to write the final report for the Reading and Reflection project that was due Sept. 14th.
The girls came down to visit, take showers, eat different food, shop, etc. two days after I left. They stayed for two days and we had a really great time together…I’ll be sad to see them leave but I’m happy that Natalie is coming to Kathmandu with me!
17.9.09
Gawai, Chitwan: A Faithful Leap
After my rafting experience I jumped on a bus (literally on top) to Chitwan where Ranjan, my former guide in Chitwan was waiting for me on his blue motorbike. It was nice to see a friendly face again and we headed to his village, Gawai (about 7 km from the touristy part of Chitwan) making small talk along the way. I was going to be living with the Basnet family who consisted of four daughters, mom, and dad. The daughters are 16, 19, 20, and 21 years old which was nice to be around girls my own age and who were all anxious to take care of me. The village and this family has had only had 3 other volunteers before and I was the first female volunteer so this made for a nice experience. The whole village was excited about my arrival and time working and living there (even if it was just for a week).
Well I made a very “Jackie-like” entrance: as I was going to get off the motorbike with my two fairly large backpacks, I fell straight over. Here was the entire family (minus the dad who was away on work in another village) eagerly awaiting me and BAM man down. Not knowing what to say to lighten the moment appropriately, before getting up I just gave them a big smile and NAMASTE! And a hearty chuckle, but I think they were more worried than entertained.
The first thing they did was give me a homemade and itchy necklace made out of clovers and tika. My first impressions were that the home was extremely clean. I didn’t know if this was typical, but as the week wore on and I visited other homes I realized it wasn’t easy to keep a home as clean as they did and I was grateful for their sanitation habits. After this we went to my room on the top of the house, put my things down and sat on the roof talking and not talking. The family spoke very little English so I broke out in my 20 word vocabulary Nepali and they seemed a little impressed. When it got dark Ranjan and I ate dalbaat together in the kitchen.
So my schedule for the week was basically: wake up at 6:30 or 7am eat cookies and chiya (chai tea) and then I would usually read. (*Side note: during this week I was reading a GREAT book I would recommend to anyone called The Primate’s Memoire, it’s hilarious, entertaining, and intellectually stimulating.) Then I would have dalbaat around 9am before leaving to go to the school at 9:30 with the neighbor who is a teacher at the school. We would walk about five minutes into the “center” or Gawai to get on the school bus teaming with loud, energetic and hot bodies of around a hundred kids under the age of 12. It became my daily ritual of taking a deep breath before getting in.
We’d arrive at school and wait for the bus to go pick up the 100 or so kids in the other direction. Then the first period of about six periods would start for the day. I went with the neighbor, Bipana, for the first two periods to the nursery class. We gave them work in their notebooks and played some games with them every day. They were pretty cute, I have to admit. Then I would usually go with Mekal to the first grade class. The first graders were the loudest and most rambunctious class and I loathed going there but Mekal was great. She is 21 years old, like most of the teachers, spoke the best English and just seemed all around like a great woman who loved to learn and work even though she has already started a family.
The first graders were always up to something. One day before school started some boys were messing around and next thing you know a kid has blood gushing out of the back of his head. Two days later the same thing happens to another kid but the blood is coming from his forehead. Also, on my last day there was some rumor or news of cases of swine flu nearby so two first graders wore masks all day.
I quickly learned that kids are taught and punished very differently here. This is probably something I’ve seen in other countries but just never really took mental note of before. Basically teaching is all in the repetition since there are no materials other than a text books, notebooks, and blackboards to teach with. Also, all the text books were in English but there definitely wasn’t a single teacher in that school that spoke enough English to teach or understand what those books said. Hmmm. By the end I had a stab at all the classes (the older ones were the best ones) and taught many subjects, including evolution. The text I read basically said humans came from worms, I didn’t know what to do with this…but by the end of the class I was sure none of the students really understood what I was saying or what the book said, so maybe they don’t think we came from worms? Who knows.
Punishment was physical and included slapping kids with the teacher’s hand or by a stick. Now don’t get me wrong they weren’t beating these kids up (the kids could do that themselves) but sometimes I flinched a little. But that was the problem with the bigger classes was that I couldn’t get the kids to listen to me unless I threatened them in that way. (Which of course I didn’t do, but it made my job as teacher more difficult). I also learned that hitting was a sign of friendship (so let’s just mess with their little brains a little more…) as one morning walking to school I got a nice wack on the back from the neighbor riding her bike to a different school where she teaches.
So the first day of teaching was exhausting. I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into and Chitwan is a very hot place so this all takes it out of you. I got home around 4:30 pm and went straight to the neighbor’s house to be introduced to her twin sister and see every family photo ever printed and of course eat cookies and drink chiya. Then I realized there was a lot of noise coming from my house across the street. I looked out the window and there sat around 30 kids on my front porch.
I was told that I would be giving “English classes” to some kids in the morning and afternoon but I was in no way prepared to teach 30 kids ranging in ages from 4 to 12 English after just teaching for six hours myself. It was basically really embarrassing and I was quickly ushered into the kitchen to eat and drink something. Even after this I couldn’t think of what to do with 30 kids. I think at first I was more concerned that they actually learn something. But towards the end of the week, I realized it was more about having fun and laughing than learning English so we played a lot of “Jackie says” and did The Hokie Pokie a few times. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to really improve their English much in six days but just the cultural interaction was enough entertaining for them and me. And I without a doubt learned a lot more from them that week than they learned from me. There was more than one time that week I felt I knew what Peace Corps volunteers feel like.
One funny incident was at the school one day during break time. The principal started talking to me and asked me if I came from a village or city. I thought about this for a moment and choose village (which was my first mistake but limited Nepali and English skills made it necessary for me to pick one). He asked me then what was the main job source. I thought about this and chose agriculture since it is the main source of income in Gawai as well and somewhat true in Madison. He asked me what crops. I thought and responded: corn and ummm grapes for wine making. He got a kick out of this. He said, “Oh so you make bread from the corn and you drink wine?” I just said yes . Silence. The principal was thinking and then asked, “Do children drink wine too?” “No children don’t drink wine.” I responded “And we have other crops too and we get a lot of other food from the store.” I didn’t want to confuse the man too much. Everyone I met in Gawai was very interested in where I’m from, what I eat in the US, and the weather. I got use to answering these questions. But that short conversation with the principal was very entertaining for me and perhaps I got the slightly sarcastic edge from reading this book The Primate’s Memoire.
As the days went on I started getting to know my sisters a lot better. I really do love them all in different ways. The youngest, Nani, was so sweet, caring, beautiful, and spoke the best English. She even went to Ktm by herself in the middle of the week to take a test. The next youngest was Sarjana. She took the best care of me always making sure I was eating and comfortable. She was also my roommate. The next daughter I thought was the most beautiful. She didn’t say too much but she had a great sense of humor and I loved making her laugh by doing crazy “Jackie” things. The eldest was 21 years old, a mother, and widow. Her husband of two years died of throat cancer about six months ago when their daughter was around six months old. It’s a sad story but after he died she came back home to live, which her father is very happy about. The eldest was very quiet and, I thought, very skinny. She spoke the least English but was actually going to school in her own way: she got notes from classes and takes exams at exam times to finish up what I think to be high school. She told me she’s the oldest yet finishing the same level as her youngest sister.
The first night I was there I asked what her daughter’s name is. The sisters replied in Nepali: Her name is simple. Okay, I thought, so what is it? They replied, her name is simple. So what is it, I asked again…it went on like this for a while until I finally figured out her daughter’s name is Simple…or something that sounds a lot like “simple” in English.
I had another very memorable night with my sisters towards the end of my stay. We were all sitting on the roof late one night after dinner watching a storm off in the distance, it was beautiful and exciting. We talked about a lot of things including how I needed to come back when I was married and bring my husband for them to meet. The second oldest thought my husband’s name would be Buddha and my name should be Buddi. They all got the biggest crack out of that, we were all rolling around laughing. I also told them about the clans of Jon and Kate and 18 and Counting from TV. They were impressed. We laughed about a lot of things that night and really started to break the ice.
The father came home after me being there for about four days, so I was already use to the house full of women, and was thoroughly enjoying it. I quickly found out I had nothing to worry about with the father as he was just as gentle as the rest of them, very smart, and an all around very kind man. He told me about his job which really fascinated me and I wished I was staying a bit longer to possibly shadow his work. He has a government paying job as basically a sanitation educator to very very rural villages. He teaches villagers about sanitation and how to build latrines correctly and he supervises them as the community or family builds them. Very cool in my book.
As the week drew to an end and my departure from Gawai was approaching everyone became very solemn and dutifully asked me to stay longer. Also during my last two days there a lot of dancing was requested from me and I was the center of attention as the community gathered around to watch the white girl dance, (usually with one other brave soul who would join me) great. I did love the village very much and the family and all the people and children I met. I was really getting use to the schedule, the copious amounts of food, and feeling clean from just washing my hands, feet, and face. But it was time to move on so I did and it was very sad for everyone. Everyone at the school was sad as well. They gave me a little present and the principle asked me if I believe in God because he thought I was a gift from God (not my words, his). I got and continue to receive multiple text messages asking me how I am and where I am at in broken English from lots of different people at the school, in the community and in my family.
All in all, it was an excellent experience and I really believe in the community work Ranjan and my host dad are creating. They really want to see their community be healthy, educated, and strive to a greater future. It’s a beautiful dream and one I see a great possibility for as they continue to care and work hard. I offered to make a simple website for Ranjan so others could find out about volunteering and I think I’ll make flyers too that he can print out and hang up around Chitwan and other cities. It’s a little step in the process, but hopefully it will help for obtaining some of their aspirations in the future. I’ll post the address once it’s all created.
The next adventures are just as good, so stay tuned!
Jackie
Well I made a very “Jackie-like” entrance: as I was going to get off the motorbike with my two fairly large backpacks, I fell straight over. Here was the entire family (minus the dad who was away on work in another village) eagerly awaiting me and BAM man down. Not knowing what to say to lighten the moment appropriately, before getting up I just gave them a big smile and NAMASTE! And a hearty chuckle, but I think they were more worried than entertained.
The first thing they did was give me a homemade and itchy necklace made out of clovers and tika. My first impressions were that the home was extremely clean. I didn’t know if this was typical, but as the week wore on and I visited other homes I realized it wasn’t easy to keep a home as clean as they did and I was grateful for their sanitation habits. After this we went to my room on the top of the house, put my things down and sat on the roof talking and not talking. The family spoke very little English so I broke out in my 20 word vocabulary Nepali and they seemed a little impressed. When it got dark Ranjan and I ate dalbaat together in the kitchen.
So my schedule for the week was basically: wake up at 6:30 or 7am eat cookies and chiya (chai tea) and then I would usually read. (*Side note: during this week I was reading a GREAT book I would recommend to anyone called The Primate’s Memoire, it’s hilarious, entertaining, and intellectually stimulating.) Then I would have dalbaat around 9am before leaving to go to the school at 9:30 with the neighbor who is a teacher at the school. We would walk about five minutes into the “center” or Gawai to get on the school bus teaming with loud, energetic and hot bodies of around a hundred kids under the age of 12. It became my daily ritual of taking a deep breath before getting in.
We’d arrive at school and wait for the bus to go pick up the 100 or so kids in the other direction. Then the first period of about six periods would start for the day. I went with the neighbor, Bipana, for the first two periods to the nursery class. We gave them work in their notebooks and played some games with them every day. They were pretty cute, I have to admit. Then I would usually go with Mekal to the first grade class. The first graders were the loudest and most rambunctious class and I loathed going there but Mekal was great. She is 21 years old, like most of the teachers, spoke the best English and just seemed all around like a great woman who loved to learn and work even though she has already started a family.
The first graders were always up to something. One day before school started some boys were messing around and next thing you know a kid has blood gushing out of the back of his head. Two days later the same thing happens to another kid but the blood is coming from his forehead. Also, on my last day there was some rumor or news of cases of swine flu nearby so two first graders wore masks all day.
I quickly learned that kids are taught and punished very differently here. This is probably something I’ve seen in other countries but just never really took mental note of before. Basically teaching is all in the repetition since there are no materials other than a text books, notebooks, and blackboards to teach with. Also, all the text books were in English but there definitely wasn’t a single teacher in that school that spoke enough English to teach or understand what those books said. Hmmm. By the end I had a stab at all the classes (the older ones were the best ones) and taught many subjects, including evolution. The text I read basically said humans came from worms, I didn’t know what to do with this…but by the end of the class I was sure none of the students really understood what I was saying or what the book said, so maybe they don’t think we came from worms? Who knows.
Punishment was physical and included slapping kids with the teacher’s hand or by a stick. Now don’t get me wrong they weren’t beating these kids up (the kids could do that themselves) but sometimes I flinched a little. But that was the problem with the bigger classes was that I couldn’t get the kids to listen to me unless I threatened them in that way. (Which of course I didn’t do, but it made my job as teacher more difficult). I also learned that hitting was a sign of friendship (so let’s just mess with their little brains a little more…) as one morning walking to school I got a nice wack on the back from the neighbor riding her bike to a different school where she teaches.
So the first day of teaching was exhausting. I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into and Chitwan is a very hot place so this all takes it out of you. I got home around 4:30 pm and went straight to the neighbor’s house to be introduced to her twin sister and see every family photo ever printed and of course eat cookies and drink chiya. Then I realized there was a lot of noise coming from my house across the street. I looked out the window and there sat around 30 kids on my front porch.
I was told that I would be giving “English classes” to some kids in the morning and afternoon but I was in no way prepared to teach 30 kids ranging in ages from 4 to 12 English after just teaching for six hours myself. It was basically really embarrassing and I was quickly ushered into the kitchen to eat and drink something. Even after this I couldn’t think of what to do with 30 kids. I think at first I was more concerned that they actually learn something. But towards the end of the week, I realized it was more about having fun and laughing than learning English so we played a lot of “Jackie says” and did The Hokie Pokie a few times. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to really improve their English much in six days but just the cultural interaction was enough entertaining for them and me. And I without a doubt learned a lot more from them that week than they learned from me. There was more than one time that week I felt I knew what Peace Corps volunteers feel like.
One funny incident was at the school one day during break time. The principal started talking to me and asked me if I came from a village or city. I thought about this for a moment and choose village (which was my first mistake but limited Nepali and English skills made it necessary for me to pick one). He asked me then what was the main job source. I thought about this and chose agriculture since it is the main source of income in Gawai as well and somewhat true in Madison. He asked me what crops. I thought and responded: corn and ummm grapes for wine making. He got a kick out of this. He said, “Oh so you make bread from the corn and you drink wine?” I just said yes . Silence. The principal was thinking and then asked, “Do children drink wine too?” “No children don’t drink wine.” I responded “And we have other crops too and we get a lot of other food from the store.” I didn’t want to confuse the man too much. Everyone I met in Gawai was very interested in where I’m from, what I eat in the US, and the weather. I got use to answering these questions. But that short conversation with the principal was very entertaining for me and perhaps I got the slightly sarcastic edge from reading this book The Primate’s Memoire.
As the days went on I started getting to know my sisters a lot better. I really do love them all in different ways. The youngest, Nani, was so sweet, caring, beautiful, and spoke the best English. She even went to Ktm by herself in the middle of the week to take a test. The next youngest was Sarjana. She took the best care of me always making sure I was eating and comfortable. She was also my roommate. The next daughter I thought was the most beautiful. She didn’t say too much but she had a great sense of humor and I loved making her laugh by doing crazy “Jackie” things. The eldest was 21 years old, a mother, and widow. Her husband of two years died of throat cancer about six months ago when their daughter was around six months old. It’s a sad story but after he died she came back home to live, which her father is very happy about. The eldest was very quiet and, I thought, very skinny. She spoke the least English but was actually going to school in her own way: she got notes from classes and takes exams at exam times to finish up what I think to be high school. She told me she’s the oldest yet finishing the same level as her youngest sister.
The first night I was there I asked what her daughter’s name is. The sisters replied in Nepali: Her name is simple. Okay, I thought, so what is it? They replied, her name is simple. So what is it, I asked again…it went on like this for a while until I finally figured out her daughter’s name is Simple…or something that sounds a lot like “simple” in English.
I had another very memorable night with my sisters towards the end of my stay. We were all sitting on the roof late one night after dinner watching a storm off in the distance, it was beautiful and exciting. We talked about a lot of things including how I needed to come back when I was married and bring my husband for them to meet. The second oldest thought my husband’s name would be Buddha and my name should be Buddi. They all got the biggest crack out of that, we were all rolling around laughing. I also told them about the clans of Jon and Kate and 18 and Counting from TV. They were impressed. We laughed about a lot of things that night and really started to break the ice.
The father came home after me being there for about four days, so I was already use to the house full of women, and was thoroughly enjoying it. I quickly found out I had nothing to worry about with the father as he was just as gentle as the rest of them, very smart, and an all around very kind man. He told me about his job which really fascinated me and I wished I was staying a bit longer to possibly shadow his work. He has a government paying job as basically a sanitation educator to very very rural villages. He teaches villagers about sanitation and how to build latrines correctly and he supervises them as the community or family builds them. Very cool in my book.
As the week drew to an end and my departure from Gawai was approaching everyone became very solemn and dutifully asked me to stay longer. Also during my last two days there a lot of dancing was requested from me and I was the center of attention as the community gathered around to watch the white girl dance, (usually with one other brave soul who would join me) great. I did love the village very much and the family and all the people and children I met. I was really getting use to the schedule, the copious amounts of food, and feeling clean from just washing my hands, feet, and face. But it was time to move on so I did and it was very sad for everyone. Everyone at the school was sad as well. They gave me a little present and the principle asked me if I believe in God because he thought I was a gift from God (not my words, his). I got and continue to receive multiple text messages asking me how I am and where I am at in broken English from lots of different people at the school, in the community and in my family.
All in all, it was an excellent experience and I really believe in the community work Ranjan and my host dad are creating. They really want to see their community be healthy, educated, and strive to a greater future. It’s a beautiful dream and one I see a great possibility for as they continue to care and work hard. I offered to make a simple website for Ranjan so others could find out about volunteering and I think I’ll make flyers too that he can print out and hang up around Chitwan and other cities. It’s a little step in the process, but hopefully it will help for obtaining some of their aspirations in the future. I’ll post the address once it’s all created.
The next adventures are just as good, so stay tuned!
Jackie
2.9.09
My solo adventures have officially begun!
My solo adventures have officially begun! They began over a week ago when I left KTM and went white water rafting for two days. I woke up early to catch the bus to Fishling, a little town on the road to Chitwan where rafters get dropped off to get wet ‘n wild for a few hours or days. I choose the longest trip being advertised during this time of year, two days. On the three hour bus ride to Fishling I sat next to another lone traveler, a Spaniard. (!!!) Seeing that a Spanish interview is approaching, I quickly jumped from English to Spanish and told her I needed to practice. I think it was too early for her as we only exchanged a few sentences during the first part of the ride. After our pit-stop we started a much better conversation where I learned her boyfriend (who she was visiting in Bangladesh) is from Granada, Nicaragua. So we talked about that for a while and about the project in Nepal and the job in Bolivia…and the normal things strangers talk about.
We had an excellent rafting group: our guide, Laxman, three Aussies, the Spaniard, and myself. There were two Aussie guys and a sheila (as they call them in Australia, right?) The girl and one guy were obviously dating and the other guy was their friend who recently flew to Nepal and met them mid-way in their travels. It was obvious the single guy was a little lonely and was very sociable among the young ladies in other rafts (and with me at first). That was kinda funny to watch. So we ate lunch with two other rafts and met Natalie from London who was super sweet and had been teaching English outside of KTM for six weeks. There were also lots of naked little boys playing unashamedly in the sand and water where we stopped for lunch. It was a great mixture of new people and places.
We continued rafting for two more hours until we reached our final destination for the day. Most people just do one day trips on their way to Pokhara or Chitwan so I said goodbye to them when we got out. My “agent” in KTM told me I would be staying in a “luxury” hotel for the night. The guides had no knowledge of this and actually laughed in my face so they told me I would have to stay in a cheep hotel for the night and pay myself. There was no cell phone service where we were to call the agent. So, I got in a bus and was told to follow Laxman, who was riding on the top of the bus in typical Nepali fashion. Inside the bus sat next to a really nice guy who spoke decent English and owns several private schools. So we exchanged the normal formalities and I told him about my hotel blunders. He started calling my agent whenever we had the slight glimmers of cell service. No luck. I had already been on the bus for over and hour and had no idea where to get off and I also thought at one point I had lost Laxman who was climbing all over the bus inside and out like a monkey while it was moving. I started getting nervous and didn’t know what was really going on. Finally right before we got off (and I found Laxman) we got through to the agent who confirmed with Laxman the hotel and food were supposed to be included. Whew. So Laxman and I went on a journey together to find a hotel just as it was getting dark. We basically took the first thing we came to and didn’t look at the room first, which is basically unheard of in Nepal. I didn’t really care by that point, I was tired, dirty, and in need of a computer…which didn’t work when the lights went out five minutes later. Perfect.
I came back to the hotel to find myself locked out of my room and my luggage locked inside. So via candle light and (thank god for) the little flashlight on my cell phone we eventually broke into my room leaving a hole in the door. The guys at the hotel decided it was best if I switched rooms, I agreed. When I walked into the room it looked much like the other room, meaning it could easily pass for a jail cell or scene for SAW 345. It smelled funny and I made a face. Then I asked for an extra sheet. No go. Toilet paper? Yup! I guess my “I’m an alone white girl” face worked well and I got my TP.
When the guy delivered the toilet paper he sprayed some soap stuff in the toilet that had obviously not been washed for a while. I’m not sure the soap stuff helped but to cover up whatever may have already been in the toilet, which I never dared to look to see. He also tried spraying air freshener but the can was empty, oh well. Shower (out of bathing suit finally!) food- dalbaat of course, I choose to eat it with my hands and no one said a thing. Went back to my room and read this absolutely hilarious and genius book about baboons in eastern Africa. It helped me forget where I was for a while. I also checked out the fan situation and discovered there were only two settings: helicopter landing in my room and dead off and stuffy. I chose the company of the helicopter.
I woke up to my alarm around 7 and met Laxman, who awkwardly shook my hand and gave me a hug (one of the few hugs I’ve received while being in Nepal). I’m thinking he was just glad to see I survived the night with a smile still on? He wanted to feed me so we what were called on the menu banana honey crepes at the hotel. When they came out it was basically crepes rolled up with scatterings of bug pieces that I pushed to the side.
We went back to the river and Laxman forced me to eat breakfast again saying I needed my strength for the river. Okay…. This time I had eggs and toast with no bugs. I was instructed to sit inside the mud house to eat because there were fewer flies. I complied. I sat in the kitchen made bedroom of visa versa. There were two beds that also served as benches for the table found in the middle of them. I sat on the unoccupied bed/bench and enjoyed my company across the table: a middle aged man sleeping while everyone ran about doing their daily chores. Oh you have it good, I thought.
Then my day’s playmates arrived – four Brits and a heavily cologned, chain smoking South African who studied law in England and now lives in Afghanistan building court houses for the UN. Much more about him later. We did the raft “training” before setting off and I was practically introduced as an experienced guide by Laxman. I’m not sure if it was because of the previous day’s rafting experience or sleeping in the hotel, but I enjoyed pretending like I was a river goddess. The Brits were fun, just out of university. There were two guys and two lady Brits, both in couples, all friends but not traveling together the entire time. Well I know one was a couple, but I’m pretty sure the other set were just friends. One girl wore her orange polk-dotted undies the whole day- which is a huge no-no in Nepal. We had a nice time rafting together and did pretty well although the South African was a bit fussy. The rapids were much bigger on this river.
We stopped for lunch and discussed our studies, jobs, and lack there of. We talked about Afghanistan a lot and the great work of the UN. (mainly because he like to talk about himself) He basically thought the UN was the shit and everyone should work for them so he tried to convince us of its benefits although he did agree it takes some luck to get in….hmmm….He’s a lawyer turned architect who is building court houses in Afghanistan because where is justice going to start if you don’t have a building to do it in?....hmmmm…..I got in a few sentences about our project in KTM and he asked why not Afghanistan- they need book and libraries there more….hmmmm….I tried to explain, but he just seemed it necessary for me to come to Afghanistan- which I wouldn’t mind doing, actually. I also tried to tell him about Three Cups of Tea and the work Greg Morrison is doing in that part of the world. He has never heard of the book and didn’t seem too interested….hmmm…. At the end of the day when he left he shook everyone’s hand on our raft except mine. Oh well.
The day ended rather uneventfully except the bus to Chitwan was full so I got to experience “Nepali air conditioning” for the first time. Aka: sitting on the roof of the bus for over an hour! Matt Enriquez would have loved it.
We had an excellent rafting group: our guide, Laxman, three Aussies, the Spaniard, and myself. There were two Aussie guys and a sheila (as they call them in Australia, right?) The girl and one guy were obviously dating and the other guy was their friend who recently flew to Nepal and met them mid-way in their travels. It was obvious the single guy was a little lonely and was very sociable among the young ladies in other rafts (and with me at first). That was kinda funny to watch. So we ate lunch with two other rafts and met Natalie from London who was super sweet and had been teaching English outside of KTM for six weeks. There were also lots of naked little boys playing unashamedly in the sand and water where we stopped for lunch. It was a great mixture of new people and places.
We continued rafting for two more hours until we reached our final destination for the day. Most people just do one day trips on their way to Pokhara or Chitwan so I said goodbye to them when we got out. My “agent” in KTM told me I would be staying in a “luxury” hotel for the night. The guides had no knowledge of this and actually laughed in my face so they told me I would have to stay in a cheep hotel for the night and pay myself. There was no cell phone service where we were to call the agent. So, I got in a bus and was told to follow Laxman, who was riding on the top of the bus in typical Nepali fashion. Inside the bus sat next to a really nice guy who spoke decent English and owns several private schools. So we exchanged the normal formalities and I told him about my hotel blunders. He started calling my agent whenever we had the slight glimmers of cell service. No luck. I had already been on the bus for over and hour and had no idea where to get off and I also thought at one point I had lost Laxman who was climbing all over the bus inside and out like a monkey while it was moving. I started getting nervous and didn’t know what was really going on. Finally right before we got off (and I found Laxman) we got through to the agent who confirmed with Laxman the hotel and food were supposed to be included. Whew. So Laxman and I went on a journey together to find a hotel just as it was getting dark. We basically took the first thing we came to and didn’t look at the room first, which is basically unheard of in Nepal. I didn’t really care by that point, I was tired, dirty, and in need of a computer…which didn’t work when the lights went out five minutes later. Perfect.
I came back to the hotel to find myself locked out of my room and my luggage locked inside. So via candle light and (thank god for) the little flashlight on my cell phone we eventually broke into my room leaving a hole in the door. The guys at the hotel decided it was best if I switched rooms, I agreed. When I walked into the room it looked much like the other room, meaning it could easily pass for a jail cell or scene for SAW 345. It smelled funny and I made a face. Then I asked for an extra sheet. No go. Toilet paper? Yup! I guess my “I’m an alone white girl” face worked well and I got my TP.
When the guy delivered the toilet paper he sprayed some soap stuff in the toilet that had obviously not been washed for a while. I’m not sure the soap stuff helped but to cover up whatever may have already been in the toilet, which I never dared to look to see. He also tried spraying air freshener but the can was empty, oh well. Shower (out of bathing suit finally!) food- dalbaat of course, I choose to eat it with my hands and no one said a thing. Went back to my room and read this absolutely hilarious and genius book about baboons in eastern Africa. It helped me forget where I was for a while. I also checked out the fan situation and discovered there were only two settings: helicopter landing in my room and dead off and stuffy. I chose the company of the helicopter.
I woke up to my alarm around 7 and met Laxman, who awkwardly shook my hand and gave me a hug (one of the few hugs I’ve received while being in Nepal). I’m thinking he was just glad to see I survived the night with a smile still on? He wanted to feed me so we what were called on the menu banana honey crepes at the hotel. When they came out it was basically crepes rolled up with scatterings of bug pieces that I pushed to the side.
We went back to the river and Laxman forced me to eat breakfast again saying I needed my strength for the river. Okay…. This time I had eggs and toast with no bugs. I was instructed to sit inside the mud house to eat because there were fewer flies. I complied. I sat in the kitchen made bedroom of visa versa. There were two beds that also served as benches for the table found in the middle of them. I sat on the unoccupied bed/bench and enjoyed my company across the table: a middle aged man sleeping while everyone ran about doing their daily chores. Oh you have it good, I thought.
Then my day’s playmates arrived – four Brits and a heavily cologned, chain smoking South African who studied law in England and now lives in Afghanistan building court houses for the UN. Much more about him later. We did the raft “training” before setting off and I was practically introduced as an experienced guide by Laxman. I’m not sure if it was because of the previous day’s rafting experience or sleeping in the hotel, but I enjoyed pretending like I was a river goddess. The Brits were fun, just out of university. There were two guys and two lady Brits, both in couples, all friends but not traveling together the entire time. Well I know one was a couple, but I’m pretty sure the other set were just friends. One girl wore her orange polk-dotted undies the whole day- which is a huge no-no in Nepal. We had a nice time rafting together and did pretty well although the South African was a bit fussy. The rapids were much bigger on this river.
We stopped for lunch and discussed our studies, jobs, and lack there of. We talked about Afghanistan a lot and the great work of the UN. (mainly because he like to talk about himself) He basically thought the UN was the shit and everyone should work for them so he tried to convince us of its benefits although he did agree it takes some luck to get in….hmmm….He’s a lawyer turned architect who is building court houses in Afghanistan because where is justice going to start if you don’t have a building to do it in?....hmmmm…..I got in a few sentences about our project in KTM and he asked why not Afghanistan- they need book and libraries there more….hmmmm….I tried to explain, but he just seemed it necessary for me to come to Afghanistan- which I wouldn’t mind doing, actually. I also tried to tell him about Three Cups of Tea and the work Greg Morrison is doing in that part of the world. He has never heard of the book and didn’t seem too interested….hmmm…. At the end of the day when he left he shook everyone’s hand on our raft except mine. Oh well.
The day ended rather uneventfully except the bus to Chitwan was full so I got to experience “Nepali air conditioning” for the first time. Aka: sitting on the roof of the bus for over an hour! Matt Enriquez would have loved it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)