Travel Day Impressions

Note: I have added the last of the pictures to the “Nepali: Another 25 Days” album. Enjoy!

Impression: Nepali Hospital

On the way to the hospital I passed several tables with severed pigs heads for sale.

My malaria pill bottles were unopened and I decided that I should donate them, an option I’d heard was a possibility in Nepal. It took a few times asking shopkeepers and pedestrians, but eventually the courtyard containing hospital, emergency room and pharmacy was in front of me. It was disconcerting, because the pharmacy was a counter under a tin roof, open to the noise, heat and pollution of the Kathmandu air. There was any entry door to the hospital, but the emergency room had no doors and I could see three beds with people in them. The pharmacy wouldn’t take my meds and directed me into the emergency room. Uncomfortable normally in hospitals, I was even more so in this case. Doctors inside informed me that Chitwan would be a better place to donate them, but eventually I convinced them to take the pills. I’m slightly ashamed to say I high-tailed it out of there.

The pigs heads were staring at me as I walked back to my hotel; the butcher continued his bloody work on the ground next to the tables on which the heads lay.

Impression: CS

My first week in Kathmandu, a local Couchsurfer had sent me a message telling me about a weekly get-together in Thamel, involving meeting people, learning to dreadlock hair and possibly some henna demonstrations as well. During my twenty-six days in Nepal, I managed to make just one of these meetings, and that occasion was on my last day in the country for just half an hour before my taxi picked me up for the airport. I ducked into the tattoo parlor area where the meeting was taking place and was immediately greeted by a mixed group of people in a tiny back room. As most of my Couchsurfing experiences have been, this was a welcoming, excited and friendly experience. I met a dozen people in just a few minutes; watched the organizer, Zen, as she explained how to use a tiny hook-tool to turn a hank of sample hair into a dreadlock; accepted and drank a cup of tea; bonded with a Norwegian-Swedish couple over shared Nepali bus experiences; and was sent on my way with waves, hugs and wishes of smooth travels.

Impression: Nepalis on a Plane

They piled onto the plan like it was a bus: bags tossed everywhere, seat assignments ignored, conversations light and jovial and anticipatory. The flight attendants – a gentle giant of a soft-spoken guy, and a hard-ass lady who seemed likely to punch someone in the face at any moment – were carefully explaining to every non-Western passenger where their seat was and what to do with their luggage. It was mostly to no avail. A young Nepali guy looked at his ticket as he stood next to my seat, glanced around with a frown, shrugged, and sat in the row behind me. I overheard him reciting, “Seat 4C, 4C, 4C,” just like the flight attendant had told him. He was in 5C. I showed him where the numbers were posted and he quickly changed seats. I have no idea if he was confused or just trying to sit next to his friend.

Later, I watched as the flight attendants explained using the toilet to two young toughs, who bobbed their heads from side to side doubtfully in response and took turns. Afterwards, I noticed the flight attendant peer into the toilet cubby, flush, shake his head and then return to the aisle to direct people.

Before the plane took off, there was a mass rush to the front of the plane as the Nepali passengers noticed empty seats. The female flight attendant didn’t pop anyone on the nose, but seemed barely to suppress the urge as she pointed imperiously back to their seats.

And at the Dubai airport, where most of the Nepali’s seemed to be transferring to a new flight, like me, it took over an hour for them to file, one by one, through the medal detector. The shrill beeeep of the machine went off during the entire time as each one was directed, by mime, to remove his belt or sunglasses or other medal objects from his person.

It must be hard to fly for the very first time as an adult!

Impression: Dubai Airport

While I’d like to say that it never even crossed my mind, it wouldn’t be true. I was well aware when we landed, and as I wandered the transit waiting area amongst veiled women and turbaned men, that it was September 11; that I was an American in an Arab country; and that my passport had Israeli stamps in it. The first didn’t make me nervouse; the second made me more aware of my surroundings; and the last factor had me nervously shifting my weight as the airline employee typed away to issue my onward ticket.

The thing is, it was an airport experience like any other. The air conditioning was a bit too strong, perhaps, and the lights far too bright, and the seats way too uncomfortable. But as people milled about, or slept, or stared sleepily at tv screens, computers or books, my most persistent emotion wasn’t fear, or suspicion, or self-preservation. It was curiosity. I watched three women, only their hands and eyes visible outside their black coverings, as they shooed children away to play, chattered with each other, and tried to get comfortable. A white robed man with an Arab head-dressing strolled along, deep in discussion with a similarly dressed friend. There were all degrees of dress amongst both men and women, leaning towards the conservative trend for both sexes and all ages.

I was curious. If it weren’t four in the morning and my brain wasn’t grinding to a slow but inevitable halt, I would have liked to try striking up a conversation with one of these people I know so little about. While eating a snack, I shared a table with a woman and her infant, who snored away blissfully. We didn’t speak each other’s languages, but smiled tentatively and made mimed offers to share our food, both declining but still smiling.

Half of my layover of eight hours in Dubai was spent sleeping (or trying to sleep). The other half had me watching, groggily, the rhythms of a different culture and lifestyle. I hope someday to go back to the UAE and learn, first-hand, about this fascinating place and it's people.

--Z

A Weekend Adventure (with a few hiccups)

Note: I’ve added still more pictures to the “Nepal: 25 More Days” album, from rafting and Chitwan. Take a look!

 

It all started out well, I swear!

The plan was to take a tourist bus from Pokhara to a point where a rafting company would take me rafting on the Trisuli River. The morning started out well enough, leaving Pokhara on a nice morning with a blue sky. The first few hours of the bus ride went smoothly, although at our breakfast stop some of us noticed smoke coming from a tire well. Some Nepali boys banged away at it and by the time we boarded all seemed well.

An hour later, we were pulled onto the side of the road in a small town, wheel well smoking away again. This time, the Nepali boys (which every bus seems to have along for such occasions) took the wheels off and then began dismantling the axle. There were ten of us eyeing the entire operation doubtfully, itching to get to the rafting point that was reputedly only twenty-eight kilometers away. We ground our teeth and sweated for about an hour before deciding to thumb a ride. A passing pickup truck agreed to take us for a hundred rupees each (outrageous!) and we all piled into the bed, where there were benches along the side and plastic stretched over a framework above us.

Rafting went well enough, with everyone but the guides and me having their first rafting experience. I jumped into the river a few times, cooling off from the hard work of paddling in the humid heat. Two hours of rafting and relaxing later, we ate lunch at a shack and showered, fully clothed, under an open-air faucet next to two enclosed squatter toilets. Those tourists who were heading on to Kathmandu left; then those heading to Pokhara. The thirteen of us remaining who were headed for Chitwan waited. And waited. It began to rain and still we waited, starting to chew our lower lips again.

Finally, we were told that there was a strike on near Chitwan and no vehicles except tourist buses could get through, and that the next tourist bus would be by the next morning. They pointed down the road and explained that we could camp in tents and have meals, free of charge, while we spent the night and waited for the tourist bus. Many of us had booked package tours at Chitwan National Park, and none of us knew whether the lodges would honor the packages if we arrived a day late. Oh… there was no telephone reception and no landline telephones, either. We were stuck.

Three girls from England decided to head back to Kathmandu. A pierced and tattooed half-naked couple apparently decided to hang out at the shacks and see what happened. The rest of us – two Indians, two Belgians, two Germans, a Japanese girl and me – decided to try our luck in hitching a ride as close as we could get to our lodges, then call the lodges and ask them to send someone to pick us up. We all piled into the first vehicle that agreed: a truck with a large cab. The two Nepali boy mechanics who rode with the rig rode on top until it began to rain. At that point they squeezed in with the rest of us and all our luggage, making our party eleven in a cab meant to comfortably sit perhaps five. We were all rather cheerful and accommodating, chattering away and being goofy.

Until we started passing trucks parked along the side of the road, that is. When we could go no further we, too, pulled over, to learn that about ten minutes earlier, a tourist bus had flipped, blocking the entire road. We sat back and waited. We bought some chips from a nearby shack, and some water, and a little Coca-Cola and whiskey to help one of the Belgians celebrate his twenty-first birthday.

Three hours later – it was 9pm now – the accident was cleared and we were on our way. It was pouring rain and our crew was a bit quieter now. Another two hours and we reached Sauhara, the small village outside Chitwan National Park. We all hugged and exchanged e-mails and went on our separate ways to our separate lodges, having arrived well past the ending time of the strikes. My lodge, the Gorkha Hamlet, welcomed me and the two Belgians (who had not booked a place and decided to try their luck at my place), fed us a limited dinner and sent us to bed. My room was nice, with two beds and a furiously spinning loud ceiling fan, which blew my mosquito netting around all night but kept me cool.

I woke up the next day feeling nauseous and exhausted and with a headache that made me dizzy. My guide agreed to move my program forward a day to let me rest and recover, and I slept fitfully between rushed bathroom trips and sips of bottled water, until 3pm. At that point I joined three Polish travelers for a sight-seeing walk through a part of the borderlands of the National Park, a visit to a park information center with outdated information, a quick trip to some elephant stables, and a culture show that featured a thick Nepali-accented announcer and some wonderful Tharu dances. We managed to spot a gaida, a rare type of creature much like a crocodile but whose snout seemed much longer and narrower.

The next day, one of the Poles – Maria – was sick. The others, Justine and Peter, and I did all of our activities together: canoeing in a long, narrow boat and bird watching on the river; a visit to the elephant breeding center; a quick run to join others who had spotted an Asian Rhinoceros; and an elephant bath. During the canoe trip we saw a crocodile and some pretty birds, including a brilliantly flashing-blue kingfisher. At lunch,  Maria seemed to be feeling better and decided to join us for the afternoon elephant safari. During the safari we saw another rhino, which was huge and really did look as armored as the pictures showed them!

Finally, today, we took a long, bumpy bus ride back to Kathmandu, and it worked out that I’m staying at the same place as the three Poles and the two Belgian guys from my Disaster Day. Actually, this was no coincidence: one of the Belgian guys left his waist pack, which held his passport and money and important papers – in the room at the Gorkha Hamlet. Knowing I was staying there an extra day, he’d called and asked me to bring it to him in Kathmandu, telling me the name of his guest house. And so, here we all are!

Five more days until I return to Turkey, and about two weeks until I head home! Time is flying along!

--Z

West of Kathmandu

Note: I’ve added lots of pictures to the “Nepal: Another 25 Days” album, so take a look!

Day-to-Day: 15-31 August 2011

 

It took seven hours, but I finally got from Kathmandu to Pokhara last Sunday. My choices in buses, according to the travel agent guy I talked to, were Green Line Bus for $18, or tourist bus for 500 Rupees (that’s basically $18 vs $7). Call me crazy but I took the 500 Rupee option. The only difference he would tell me between the two was AC and no AC. I admit, I was slightly leery, given my Cambodia experience (where I was seated on a plastic beach chair next to the driver for four hours), but it turned out to be all right.

My first few days in Pokhara, I vegged: slept in, meandered around the main street, gazed out at Fewa Lake and the surrounding mountians, internetted, read books, and so on. Apparently I needed it, because I couldn’t muster up interest or motivation to do anything else!

On Tuesday, I got up before the sun and took a taxi up to Sarangkot to view the sunrise. I was not so lucky here, because the clouds obscured the scenery – namely, the Annapurna Range of mountains that is the reason people come to see sunrise. However, I did get a sneak peek at Macchupucchre Peak and the wall of another peak, snow covered and with those granite crags that seem so detailed, even from a distance. When I got back to my guesthouse, I slept until 1pm.

Wednesday found me flying through the air again: I had signed up Tuesday evening to go paragliding from Sarangkot. It involved riding in the back of a pickup with benches installed, then meeting my “pilot” on a down-sloping field. He was nice enough, though he sounded a bit like a tape recording: “How are you doing today, Zoe… fine, fine, now this here is the harness…” and so on. My answers were acknowledged but not really registered. In any case, he explained how I needed to walk with him, and run with him, when he indicated. We had one false start where the breeze changed directions; the second time, though, we walked together (he was harnessed in behind me) and then ran for about three steps before our chute filled and lifted us up. My harness turned a bit and suddenly I was sitting on air (and straps), watching the world around me!

There were a dozen other paragliders that day, so the sky was amusing to watch. My pilot, Ramesh, explained to me how thermals worked and demonstrated. I had signed up for a thirty minute ride and basically, all I did was sit back and watch! Surprisingly, after awhile I felt slightly queasy… I think it’s because for the most part, paragliders circle. All those circles get to be a bit much after awhile, I guess. In any case, we swooped around, catching thermals and gently rising, then gliding down a bit here and there. Looking down I could see rice paddies and terraced land, Fewa Lake and Pokhara, and here and there I would get a glance at the Annapurna peaks behind the hills.

Near the end, we were over the lake and he asked if I’d like to do a trick. I should have said now, but I couldn’t! So we did a spiral, where we were about sideways to the ground and whirring around our chute… it was great fun but left me feeling queasier than before. Soon after, we glided in for a landing. We barely even stumbled!

For the rest of the day I vegged out with my new friend, Premra from Dubai, who also paraglided. We went and had a long lunch; then watched two movies at another restaurant; went our separate ways only to meet up again an hour later. We decided to rent a rowboat and paddle across the lake to Lychee Resort, an upscale place with a restaurant. Halfway across, we realized our plan’s major flaws: it was darker than usual out and indeed, the lightning and thunder began to worry us. We made it across only slightly soaked, but in the pitch dark. We had a nice dinner, chatted, and tried not to pay attention to the very pretty, dressed up Nepali girls giggling away with the older Nepal men at the table behind us. Premra, who speaks Hindi, muttered that they were negotiating prices and activities. It was really kinda sad.

The row back was dry, other than our feet and butts, but in the pitch dark. Premra, a horror movie lover, had many theories about the dark jungly woods on the mountain behind us and the dark waters and the critters in it ahead of us. Soon our plans’ second flaw became apparent: we could see no landmark telling us where we’d rented the boat from. And third flaw: we had no flashlight to show us a good place to park the boat.

Eventually we just pushed it up against part of the shore, then wandered through a few backyards before finally asking a Nepali couple to show us how to get back up to the main street. We found a nice place for a dessert, and then I was done: back at my guest house, I crashed, sleeping until 9am the next morning.

My last full day in Pokhara, I had someone paddle me across the lake and then climbed up to the World Peace Pagoda. It was a good climb, about an hour going straight uphill on stone steps. There were beautiful views out over the lake and Pokhara, though, which compensated. It was afternoon when I started, so it was hot and humid. Once I reached the pagoda, I met Anya and Lindsey, Canadians, and we got to chatting and decided to share a boat back. So we descended the same way I’d climbed, deciding to have lunch when we got to Lakeside.

And here I am, relaxing at a café, looking forward to the rafting, elephant safari, jungle birdwalk and Chitwan National Park visit that I booked for the next few days.

--Z

Random Videos

Note: I’ve posted the new Nepal item, check it out!  

 

So, this isn’t really a “blog update” per say. I just realized that I have a few videos I’ve taken and never posted! So, here are three, from three different countries. Enjoy!

First up, a Sinai chameleon eating lunch in Israel:

Next, a whirling Dervish in Istanbul, Turkey (sorry it’s sideways, can’t seem to rotate it!):

And finally, chanting monks from Kopan Monastery in Kathmandu, Nepal:

--Z

Sniffles & Gorgeous Weather

Note: There are lots of new posts (six to be exact), so make sure you read them all!

Day Four at Kopan Monastery

The minute I woke up I groaned: my nose was running, my throat was scratchy and my skin felt too hot. Breakfast didn’t refresh me much, so before showering and going back to sleep, I took a fizzy Airborne tablet, given to me by Audrey, a middle-school teacher and teacher trainer from Portland, Oregon. We met last night, when she arrived in time for dinner and sat with me. We get along quite well, chatting about everything from travel to teaching to everything inbetween. She’s volunteering for two weeks with an NGO to help train Nepali teachers. Before that, she’s taken the time to relax at the monastery, excited because she is Buddhist and her teacher knows Kopan well. Anyway, she offered, and I accepted, one of the cold-prevention tablets. I slept for a couple more hours, almost missing lunch.

After lunch I bummed around, feeling better but not great. My usual routine continued: reading, walking, napping, using the internet café, looking out at the view. The morning was cloudy, but the day really cleared up and soon the crisp air and sunshine were cheering me up considerably. I sunned for a bit, figuring a bit of Vitamin D couldn’t hurt, and ended up watching the sunset with Audrey from the grassy hill that is the highest point at the monastery. The sky was wonderful, with a ceiling of clouds making my depth perception go wonky over the mountains, and the rest of the sky blue and clear with birds wheeling around. As the sun got lower and went behind a band of clouds, it was as if we were in a theater and the lights had dimmed slightly. The entire landscape seemed to have changed with the lighting. Beautiful!

At tea, before dinner, I met a girl from Marseilles, France. She gave me some great recommendations on places to stay in Kathmandu, Pokhara and Chitwan. Tomorrow my plan is to check out and head to Thamel with Audrey, who already has a place to stay through the NGO. We plan to go shopping where Anisha took me, which should be fun because we’re looking for the same kind of things. I will either stay at the same place as Audrey, if it seems nice and the price is right, or I’ll go check out the French-woman’s recommendation. I figure I’ll leave for Pokhara on Sunday and spend some time there and at the coffee farm the Swedish couple recommended.

Now, at the end of the day, my cold seems to be gone and I’m feeling pretty good. I’m excited to continue my exploration of Nepal and see the beautiful areas I’ve heard so much about!

--Z

Day of Ceremonies

 

Day Three at Kopan Monastery

Today was a lot like yesterday, except not as wet. Also, my “up” mood didn’t really hold out, although that’s not to say that I was in a bad mood. It just seemed like my brain was a bit muddled with too many thoughts, about all sorts of things. Ah, well…

There were three ceremonies today. The first, at 5:30am, I did not attend. Too early! The second, though, I did attend in part. It was described to me in brief summary as akin to a graduation ceremony, where six students would debate various topics and earn their next level (geshe). It was all in another language (Nepali or Tibetan, I think) and I was just one of four Westerners sitting against the back wall, watching. I have to admit that I have NO idea what was happening, at any time! I think I saw what was part of a debate, although it wasn’t how I’d pictured it. It was more one monk, half-chanting and half-ranting, making ritualized hand claps that thundered through the hall now and then. An hour and a half in, I had to duck out… my focus was scattered and I needed a bathroom (it started just after breakfast)!

The third ceremony was another puja, after dinner. I stayed for the entire three and a half hours and again, I can tell you almost nothing about what I saw, since I have no idea what was going on. There was lots and lots of chanting, some discordant music bursts now and again, and about thirty minutes where tea and various edible goodies like Snickers and ChocoPies were doled out to every monk and every Westerner in the hall (maybe 200 people!). At the end, the eldest monk, perhaps the lama who runs the monastery, spoke. It was in English but because of the combined effects of his accent, having suffered a severe stroke recently, and a shoddy sound system, I could only make out some of the basics: even if you don’t think you believe in Buddhism, you should become knowledgeable about it so that you can know about life and death. I think he told a story about being in a hospital and talking to people who didn’t know anything about these things, in any sense, and it made him very sad.

All day I planned to leave tomorrow, but now I’m thinking I’ll stay one more day. No real reason. I didn’t pack, and a day here versus a day in Thamel sounds good anyhow.

--Z

Up

 

Day Two at Kopan Monastery

Today I let myself sleep in until just before breakfast. I slept quite well last night, which may in part account for how up I felt all day. In any case, I went to breakfast somewhat groggy, as I usually feel when I’m just waking up, and disliking the heavy, overcast and wet feeling that greeted me. Afterwards, I walked around a bit, eventually ending up back at my room, where I stretched and read a book for a little bit. Eventually, I showered. The hot water is solar-heated, making morning a bad time for a hot shower. I got about a minute of hot, before the water cooled to a just-bearable temperature. It woke me up, anyway!

At ten, I went to the main meditation hall. There was no one else there, not even tourists, for a full hour. Then, a couple led by a Nepali man came in, snapping pictures and talking in what seemed to me rude, loud voices. They saw that I was trying to meditate but that didn’t seem to bother their conversation (or volume) in the least. I stuck it out, though, because the hour and a half of quiet in the morning is turning out to be quite nice. I attempted meditation for about half an hour and then just let my mind work. I had some good, serious thinks about a few things that were on my mind, and it felt really good.

Lunch was again tasty and filling. After, I went to the internet café. It was drizzling rain, so I spent an hour chatting with friends and e-mailing. More stretching and reading followed, and chatting with the Swedish couple. After dinner, as I was helping do the dishes, I met Sarah, a forty year old Australian woman who has recently completed yoga instructor certification. We got to talking and I found that she is a really positive, intense lady. I hope we get a chance to chat more tomorrow, although she’s taking a course so she may not be free until the evening.

All day I felt kind of happy, light, even a little ebullient. It was a nice feeling and I really hope it continues!

--Z

Busy Day of Being Quiet

 

Day 1: Full Day of Quiet

My alarm went off at 6am and I snoozed for a bit, managing to pull myself out of bed ten minutes later. It was cool out as I meandered through the grounds. It had rained in the night and things were still damp, the sky still gray and foreboding in the morning light. It would stay that way all day. I decided to stretch in a gazebo with a view over terraced lands with a backdrop of a mountain chain.

Breakfast was a delicious rice-and-milk soup, along with white pita bread and the usual choices of butter, peanut butter and jam. Tea, masala or black or green, is available at every meal as well. After breakfast, I walked for a bit, then did some writing in my diary. At ten, I went to the main “gompa” or meditation hall, because there is supposedly daily hour and a half meditation sessions. When no one but three Western girls showed up, I went to ask at the reception desk. It turns out the teacher who does the meditation classes left today and there won’t be guided meditations for at least a few days. It really bummed me out, but I stayed anyway and attempted to meditate in the huge, quiet hall with a huge golden Buddha at the back and whirls of colors and paintings and flags and lights all around. I think I may have napped for a short time, but in any case, I made it through an hour and a half of quiet sitting.

Lunch consisted of dal baht, white rice, a curried vegetable mixture and a cooked onion mixture, with the pita and toppings selection and tea. Delicious! And very filling. The rest of the day was filled with reading and walking, pondering and writing, half an hour of internet and chatting with the Swedish couple.

No deep insights, perhaps, but it was a calm and restful day. I may not stay as long as expected, with no guided class of any kind to attend, but even two or three days will recharge my batteries… physically and emotionally, hopefully.

--Z

Self-Imposed Idleness at Kopan Monastery

Note: I’ll begin a new album, “Nepal: Another 25 Days,” as soon as I can!

Day 0: Arrival at Kopan Monastery

For the third day in a row, I let myself sleep in after my alarm went off. And I followed my usual routine: wake up, dress, wander out for breakfast and internet; return, wash up, read my book. Today, though, the routine broke here. I packed up all my things and paid my hotel bill (about $20 per night, if you include the tip I left), then caught a taxi up to Kopan Monastery, about a twenty minute ride to the outskirts of Kathmandu, and up a steep hill. Everywhere we saw celebrations, because today is Krishna Astami, the Hindu celebration of Krishna’s birthday.

I arrived, checked in and after dropping off my things, just wandered around the grounds. There are meditation halls and a library, several different areas for guests to stay (from shared rooms to singles and doubles), a fountain, a hilltop to view the surrounding valley, Buddha statues and gumpas, a dining hall, and a store which is also a small café and computer area. Of course, there’s a school on the grounds, too. There are over three hundred monks of various ages who live and learn and pray here. Nearby is a nunnery with over three hundred women, too.

So what will I do here? I am forcing myself to relax and just be. There is a meditation class every morning, so I plan to attend that, but otherwise my time is my own. There are three simple meals and a tea time at the dining hall. Dinner tonight was a vegetable soup and pita bread, with peanut butter or marmalade or butter to choose from. Simple, but delicious and filling. I hope all the meals are so nice! I’ve written out a general schedule for myself to stick to for the next four or five days, which includes stretching three times a day. My general hope for my time here is to breathe a little, relax, think about some of the things that I haven’t really let myself fully consider and feel the things I definitely have pushed aside. I have two books to read and there are plenty of places to walk to and around here.

I’ve already met a nice Swedish couple, young travelers who have been WWOOFing in India and Nepal for the last eight months. There are several Westerners here, doing individual courses of study or, like me, taking the opportunity to just be and to relax.

Mostly, I hope to center myself a little bit.

--Z

Killing Time in Kathmandu

 

My plane landed in Kathmandu on Tuesday and spent that day and the next with Rimu. On Thursday, I went out for coffee with Anisha, who came to get me on a motorbike; they call them scooters here. We chatted about nothing in particular, although one topic that held my attention and interest was that of dating and marriage. In Nepal, “love marriages” are becoming more common, but arranged marriages are still the norm. Anisha is part of the aristocratic caste in Nepal, and she fully expects that her parents will choose her husband, sometime in the future. She has never had a boyfriend and she explained that while she has friends who are boys, she doesn’t “hang out” with them because of the impropriety it would imply.

For those who don’t remember or didn’t read the post where I told the story, while on my Everest Base Camp trek back in April/May I met a man who turned out to be a Colonel in the Nepali Army. He gave us (my trekking partner, Jan, and I) his card and told us we could contact him when we were back in Kathmandu. We did this, but he was out of town. Nevertheless, his wife and daughters were wonderfully hospitable to us, inviting us over for tea and taking us to an orphanage where we volunteered. Anyway, Anisha is one of the daughters, a beautiful nineteen-year old college student. She’s friendly and intelligent and polite and has been really sweet, keeping me steady as I re-organize my Nepal plans.

On Thursday evening I met with Rimu again, but he decided that he didn’t want to see me any more since I had told him I didn’t have the same feelings for him as before. On Friday, Anisha took me shopping and I bought a modern-style sulwar, a beautifully embroidered, dark green and gold and black tunic that is very long with gauzy black sleeves. It came also with black pants and a lovely shawl-scarf. We also went out and found some bangles to match.

I had the chance to wear my new outfit tonight. Anisha invited me to a Teej party. Teej is a Hindu holiday where women celebrate. At it’s root, it’s really about married women praying for the husbands, but traditions have evolved to turn into women-only gatherings and parties. Teej itself isn’t for another two weeks, but there are parties every day these days. Anyway, both Anisha and her mother were at this party and I dressed up. Most of the women there, being married, wore red as is traditional. Everything from saris to sulwars, modern and traditional, were in evidence, beautiful and shining and elegant. At the party there were light snacks, drinks, music and a buffet dinner. My favorite part was the dancing, where unself-consciously women danced and laughed and grooved to tunes Nepali, American and Latin! At the end of the evening, the Colonel picked us up and gave me a lift home. He’s retired now, but looking forward to finding work as a disaster management expert.

From arrival until now, I’ve run a wide range of emotions: anticipation, excitement, surprise, sadness, disappointment, fear, and finally a resurgence of fascination with Nepal. I’m terribly disappointed that things with Rimu didn’t work out, but it was my choice to end the relationship and I feel some solace in the fact that I was honest enough with myself and him to not drag things out. In any case, now I’m ready to experience more of Nepal, because although it was again a shock on first arrival, I find myself warming right back up to the culture, the people, even the dirt and pollution of Thamel.

My plans? Well, I don’t really have any. Tomorrow I’m going to check the availability at Kopan Monastery and, if possible, stay there until Friday. It’ll be a peaceful, quiet time for me to force myself to think and feel and straighten myself out. Until now I’ve been reading, e-mailing, writing, watching tv, and walking around, not giving myself much of a contemplative moment. After a stint at the monastery, I’d like to visit Pokhara and Ghorka, other Nepali cities, and visit more with Anisha and her family. And maybe take a cooking class! I LOVE Nepali (and Tibetan, and Bhutanese) food!

--Z

Nepal Time

Note: A new picture album is up for Turkey: “Turkey: 96 Hours in Istanbul.” Take a look!

 

After four days in Istanbul, I took off and spent one evening in Dubai, on a bus tour that was fun but depressing as it showed the opulence of the area, and then I was off again to Kathmandu. I have nothing much to report: things didn’t work out with Rimu, and I’ve spent the last three days working through my sadness and planning what to do for my three weeks here. It’s been good to relax and be quiet, even in the bustling, honking, dirty madness of Thamel. I’m doing just fine and will be spending this afternoon at a women-only party, so that should be fun. I’ve done a little shopping and meandering through the lanes of Thamel. On Sunday or Monday, I plan to check in to a Buddhist monastery and do some intense quiet time with some meditation (we’ll see how that goes)!

That’s all for now… sorry for a short and un-exciting post, but perhaps next time will be more upbeat!

--Z

Catch-up Post: Highlights, Family & Friends

Note: I have uploaded pictures. The albums include “Nepal: Kathmandu and Around,” “Belgium: 11 Hour Layover,” and “Israel: A Week with my Folks.”

Also, I am trying out a new idea. Instead of putting my day-to-day summary here, I will just post a link to a Google document instead. This will cut down on the length and detail of the posts. I am working on finding a better way than linking to a document… Let me know what you think!

Daily Diary Link: 14-24 May 2011

So, I’ve been bad and haven’t written for awhile. Perhaps you will forgive me if you realize that within the span of a week I was dealing with the physical and emotional stresses of figuring out a relationship status, leaving Nepal, spending twelve hours in the Delhi airport and eleven hours in Brussels exploring, then arriving at midnight in Israel and meeting my parents at a train station four hours later. And then doing the mad-tourist thing for a week with the folks!

See, you forgive me, don’t you?!

So, I’ll pick the highlights from the past week and a half of being incommunicado here. My apologies and I promise to do better!

Nepal and Romance

You’ll recall that for the Everest Base Camp trek, my guide’s name was Rimu. During the course of our trek, we got along all right but I didn’t pay much attention to his two or three isolated attempts to flirt with me. I shouldn’t say attempts, for they were honest and straightforward actions on his part, which (I imagine) took some guts. In any case, I ignored them purposely and made sure I didn’t respond in any way.

Well, for the most part.

You see, I have had enough of various men very forwardly expressing their interest in “getting with” the American girl. Their words, not mine. I think I’ve blogged about how irritating it got. And so at Rimu’s first effort to touch my hand, I immediately put up my “go away” vibe, which works to varying degrees in different countries. My doubts and suspicions made me dismiss even a consideration of the situation. So nothing happened on the trek beyond a compliment and an attempt at touching my hand a few times, or a friendly hug (which was not a common thing).

Back in Kathmandu following the trek, I really wanted to wander around the city outside the tourist area, but was not quite ready to do it on my own. Rimu invited me to visit him in his neighborhood when I told him what I wanted, and although I had misgivings, I decided to do it. He lives in Jorpati in a shared room, in an apartment building. Rimu and his roommate, Pasang, made me lunch and chatted with me. After lunch, Rimu took me for a walk through the area, then angled us to take a short hike up to a nearby forest. There we sat and chatted, and I suddenly realized I liked chatting with him. Moreover, when he reached out and grasped my hand for a brief moment, I squeezed his hand back.

Over the rest of that week we spent a lot of time together. He told me at one point that he hoped I wouldn’t “kiss anyone else,” and then I pulled back. I told him we shouldn’t get too serious and that when I left we should just see what happens but not make any promises. He didn’t like it, but just told me that he would wait for me to return and not get involved with any other girls. He walked to the airport to say good-bye the day I flew out, the day a country-wide strike prevented most motor vehicles from being on the streets. And at that point I realized how much I liked him. How sweet he made me feel. And I realized that I did want to come back, and I didn’t want him to be with another girl, and that against all my efforts, I had grown very close and very romantic with Rimu.

We are keeping in touch via e-mail several times a day now and discussing possible immediate futures (visits, etc). I don’t know if or how things will work out, but I can tell you this: I consider myself his girlfriend and him, my boyfriend.

 Long Layovers

On my way to Nepal I had asked in the Delhi airport whether I could get an in-transit visa  there and was assured by some assuming airline employee that I could. So when I arrived in the early afternoon to Delhi airport on my way from Nepal to Israel, I was excited to spend my twelve-hour layover touring and experiencing New Delhi. Alas, this was not to be, as an in-transit visa must be obtained prior to arrival to the airport. It was a loooong boring layover! Luckily, Belgium was much simpler and I just walked on out of the airport, easy as that. My luggage was checked through to Israel so I just had my day bag. My day consisted of wandering around the city center with a Korean girl in a similar situation. We took a city bus tour to catch the mains sights, too. Then I went off to meet some Couchsurfers, who were meeting up to check out the Pride Parade going on that day.

Now I have learned that it is, indeed, a small world. When I saw my friend James on a street corner watching the Pride Parade and cheering for the floats, though, I was  completely flabbergasted! James was a fellow military Couchsurfer, though he was stationed at Virginia Beach with the Navy. We had met at several DC couchsurfing events the year before and become friends, but besides the odd Facebook comment, had not kept in touch much. We both stared at each other, then started laughing and shouting and hugging. Small world, indeed.

I did the usual Brussels things: saw the Mannequin de Pis, tried a Belgian hot chocolate, waffle, salad and chocolates, and cheered for the well-attended, well-supported Pride Parade with it’s outrageous floats and flambouyant, happy paraders. Then I hopped on my flight to Tel Aviv.

Israel, Parents, Touring

My flight arrived in the wee hours Sunday morning and I missed the first train to Nahariya, so I caught the next one, an hour later. It was a good train ride, because Nahariya was the  last stop and so I could fall asleep, which I did. There at the turnstiles, my parents met me, wide awake (at least they seemed so to me) at 4am. Paula, a long-time friend of my mother’s, drove us the few blocks to her home, where they quickly installed me in a guest room. We chatted and caught up for about an hour and then I crashed, sleeping until ten that morning.

The following week was a fantastic collection of travel: several tours of varying types, a museum and a few national parks and a few beaches. We stayed with Paula in Nahariya and then with Deborah in Jerusalem, and both of these childhood friends of my mom’s were gracious, lively and involved hosts who invited me to stay with them any time. (In fact, I am still at Deborah’s house!) The moments I enjoyed the most included visiting the Dead Sea with my dad, who couldn’t go all the way in but enjoyed wiggling his feet in the salty waters and took a salt-encrusted stone as a souvenir; and visiting the Western Wall, twice, with my mother. Both times were not big events or dramatic, and in actuality were just brief snapshots in days full of many adventures, but these are what stood out to me.

Also, just getting to spend time with them, tell them my thoughts about my travels and about Rimu and about the future, was really nice. Skype and e-mail are wonderful, but there’s nothing like being there in person with your family.

What Next?

If you know me at all, you know what I’m going to say: I have no idea what my plan is. I’m researching ulpans (language immersion programs), kibbutz programs, volunteer opportunities and events going on in the country. My plane out of the country (to Turkey) isn’t until August and I’m trying to figure out how much more travel, and where, and all that, at the same time as figuring out my in-country plans.

For the immediate moment, I’m being lazy. Today was spent on the computer, meandering around the neighborhood, reading a book and daydreaming. With the need to unwind and relax paramount, my plan for the next week is to have more days like this one!

--Z

And Still They Honk!

Note: No new pictures posted yet, but will get on it as soon as I’m in a country for more than ten hours! 

• Sunday, 8 May: Took car to Baktipur with Jan; explored that Durbar Square; driver walked with us and took us to his sister’s home, a tiny wooden place with four floors, each around 5’x10’; spend a quiet evening back at Shanker Hotel.
• Monday, 9 May: Met Rubee and Rucee and all went to the Palace Musuem, a wonderfully beautiful and interesting trip, but no photos allowed; had lunch at hotel, all four of us; Jan got in touch with Ms. Hawley, who runs the Himalayan Foundation, a non-profit organization that tracks and legitimizes Everest summiters; went swimming in the late afternoon.
• Tuesday, 10 May: Went to Patan on my own and explored all day; decided not to spend the night and returned to Kathamandu and Shanker; had good chats with Jan.
• Wednesday, 11 May: Moved things from Shanker to Everest Hotel, where I met several of Jan’s friends from previous trips; then went back to Shanker to meet Nepali Colonel’s wife, who took Jan to see their new house on the outskirst of town; I went to Swayambunath (Monkey Temple) with Rimu; explored around on foot for most of the day before returning to Everest Hotel.
• Thursday, 12 May: Went to Bhodnath Temple again with Jan and Rimu to gift-shop; spent the day walking around with Rimu and doing more shopping; celebrated Jan’s 70th birthday that evening with wine and cake sent up by her hotel friends; Colonel’s wife came as did Ramesh, a Shanker Hotel employee who took a liking to Jan; both brought gifts; bought my ticket out of Israel; to bed late.
• Friday, 13 May: Took Government tourist bus to the airport due to country-wide strikes stopping most vehicles; met Rimu at the airport (he walked) and chatted with him until it was time to check in; found out my airline had canceled my flight and got rebooked to a different airline; flight was delayed but still arrived Delhi around 2pm; no transit visa allowed so spent all day in airport.

The streets of Kathmandu were eerily deserted as the government bus that had picked me up at the Everest Hotel rolled along. There were two “tourist police” men, armed, on the bus. At various street corners there were small crowds of people behind soldiers and police in riot gear, although everything seemed peaceful.

For the last two weeks, I’ve wandered in various parts of Kathmandu, from tourist spots to local neighborhoods, and always the noise, pollution and traffic have been terrifically overwhelming. Taxis, a few oversized SUVs, buses of all kinds, rickshaws, bicycles and motorbikes all crowded the narrow streets of Thamel, the lanes snaking in and around all the neighborhoods, and wide avenues everywhere else. They all honked, they all zigged and zagged around each other. Sometimes you could see long lines of vehicles going on into the distance, waiting for the limited amount of petrol available.

Kathmandu’s streets are pretty dirty, with rubbish near the sidewalks when sidewalks exist, and rubbish piled in the gutters where people walk. The dirt and dust and diesel fumes clog the air and create a smog that is barely repelled, it seems, by the facemasks many people wear. Still, walking along any of Kathmandu’s streets is always fascinating. The women in their beautiful clothes, so different from Western-wear but so practical and so flattering. The men hurrying along, some carrying loads and others shopping and still others just wandering. Children in school uniforms of varying designs flocking together at breaks or before and after classes. The random cow eating trash or food or just gazing at the flow of humanity and automobile. Scarecrow dogs and the occasional pup weaving in and out of the throngs of people. Storefronts of all kinds, some glittering and some filthy. Fruit stands everywhere and cyber cafes more common than the fruit stands. Tourists and backpackers, trekkers or those going on treks, foreigners of all kinds gawking about.

I never once saw an accident, even though I felt like I nearly got hit at least a dozen times, most often by buses that decided to pull to the side of a road suddenly. Motorbikes were the next scariest, as they would suddenly appear out of alleys or around corners with no warning and, seemingly, no brakes. They sounded their obnoxiously loud horns the moment they seemed ready to collide with someone, pedestrian or vehicular. They were tied, though, with taxis, whose drivers seemed especially careless with those crossing the streets. Taxis sounded their horns constantly, becoming silent only when they had to grip the steering wheel with both hands as they slammed on the brakes to avoid vehicular manslaughter. Crossing the streets, by the way, was an adventure, although nowhere near as terrifying as in Vietnam.

So rolling down the streets and seeing only an occasional other vehicle on the road, and no one on the sidewalks except for the milling crowds and riot police and very visibly armed soldiers, was surreal. No people were in the streets, no rickshaws were to be seen, the storefronts were closed up tight. For me, the air seemed “taut with suspense,” as they say, although everyone seemed only to be waiting and watching.

Our bus driver still honked. So did the three other vehicles I saw on the road. At the airport, the trickle of taxis and buses that came to the airport – so different from the flood, the absolute gridlock of vehicles on my arrival – all honked as well. I guess some habits are hard to break.

Rimu, the Sherpa guide from our trek and now a close friend, met me at the airport, having run forty minutes to make it on time. We sat together and talked, we sighed and we said good-bye. He hung a khada about my neck as a final gesture: a thin, delicate white scarf that portrays respect in the Buddhist culture.

I will miss Nepal. Much like Cambodia, whose poverty struck me but with whose people I connected, Nepal’s people and their friendliness, humor and kindness are enough to make one forget about the pollution and the traffic and the dirt.

Well, almost, anyway.

--Z

Load Shedding

Note: I’ve put up the links to all my Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek photos… take a look and enjoy! I will post another album for the rest of my Nepal time as pictures get taken and uploaded.

• Tuesday, 3 May: Easy day, did a little shopping and wandering in Thamel, the part of Kathmandu we’re currently staying in.
• Wednesday, 4 May: Wandered to a different part of Thamel, bought some spices and watched the craziness of Kathmandu in the streets; went to Durbar Square with Jan and her friends Rucee and Rubee, daughters of her first guide back in 1995; had a nice afternoon chatting with them and seeing the temples in Durbar Square; out for dinner at Rum Doodle’s; Skyped with the folks.
• Thursday, 5 May: Moved to Shanker Hotel, huge fancy place in former palace; spoke with Rimu and Pradip a bit; explored new area of town; found internet cafe nearby (hotel wi-fi ridiculously expensive).
• Friday, 6 May: Met Anisse, Nepali Colonel’s daughter, who took me and Jan to a nearby orphanage; also picked up her sister; children were in school, so we spoke to headmistress for awhile and saw the bedrooms; returned to hotel and looked in on a Nepali wedding happening out front; walked around the main street, bought some gifts and materials for the orphans.
• Saturday, 7 May: Went to Jorpati via taxi to visit with Rimu on my own; he showed me his room and introduced me to his roommate; they made me lunch (curry and rice) and we chatted for awhile; then Rimu took me on a walk through the neighborhood and up to a nearby forest, where we sat and talked; took taxi back to hotel to meet Jan and Anisse to go to the orphanage again; played with orphans for a few hours; Anisse brought us to her home to meet her mother and grandmother; we had Nepali snacks and wonderful conversation there; they rode in their car with us back to the hotel and we made plans for another day.

In Kathmandu, there is a severe limitation on electricity for the number of people who want and need to use it. The government has instituted a policy, therefore, of load sheddding. Kathmandu is divided up into districts and each district is given a schedule for when their power will be shut off, usually four hours at a time, one or two times a day. This goes for all establishments: hotels, residences, restaurants, stores, etc. Wealthier places have generators that they run during their power outage times. At the first hotel I stayed at in Kathmandu, the generator only powered two lights in each guestroom: one in the main room and one in the bathroom. Otherwise, outlets and lights were unpowered. Now, at Shanker Hotel, which is a fancy, upscale kind of place, the generator powers everything, so that the only hint that something has changed is a brief blackout or power flicker.

I’ve been out to dinner or window shopping when the power changes happen and it’s obvious that the people are all well used to it: candles are automatically lit, or doors opened to let daylight filter in, or the loud hum of a generator kicks in and the lights go back on. Nobody is particularly pleased about it but it has become a way of life.

From what I understand, hydroelectricity is big in Nepal but it is sold to India and China for profit by the corporations and is not supplied to the Nepali people first.

Today, after showering and eating a big breakfast, I took at taxi to a part of Kathmandu called Jorpati to visit with Rimu, our guide from the trek. He lives there in a shared room with an old school friend of his. On the way, the driver let me use his mobile to call Rimu to let him know I was on my way. Rimu had told me I could do this, which I thought was unusual but turns out is completely accepted.

Rimu showed me where he lived and he and his roommate Pasang shared their lunch of rice and curry with me, along with a Mountain Dew and some bottled water. Then Rimu took me for a two hour walk around the neighborhood and out of the city to a nearby pine forest on a hill, from which we could see Kathmandu Valley. We talked a lot about customs and social differences between the US and Nepal. It was very laid back and comfortable, a nice break from being a tourist.

Later, I met Jan back at the hotel. We were picked up by a Nepali Colonel’s daughter, who we’d met the day before, and all three of us went to an orphanage nearby to play with the kids. We brought them notebooks (they call them copies), pens, pencils, erasers and sharpeners. The kids – about fifteen of them, ranged in age from seven to sixteen - were typically shy at first, then warmed up and started chatting with us, drawing us pictures and   playing games with us. Jan noticed the oldest boy, who seemed very unhappy and struggling with something, and tried to talk with him a bit. I mostly played with the girls at first, drawing them out into hand-slap games and drawing flowers. I taught them thumb wrestling, which the boys immediately picked up on. By the end of our two hours at the orphanage, the kids were gleefully handing us sheet after sheet of paper with drawings and words and names on them, challenging me to thumb wrestling matches, and fighting to take turns using my camera to take pictures. It struck me how well cared for they seemed and how pleased the kids were to be individually noticed and spoken to. It’s a reminder that although it may feel inadequate to spend just one day, and just a few hours at that, with them, to the kids it made a pleasant distraction and maybe brightened their day a bit.

I find myself feeling this way fairly often: that maybe it’s not worth spending so little time, that to make a real difference or impact, I should dedicate energy and money and a long period of time. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s really just that I feel inadequate with a short amount of time or a one-time gift. While maybe I don’t change a life with it, though, that small bit can make a difference in the day of someone who needs it. And to really give, it’s more important to consider that side of things, I think. What is that famous quote? We can’t help everyone, but everyone can help someone.

And it’s not hard. Load shedding means that everyone loses out some of the time so that no one goes without all of the time. Perhaps that can loosely be used as an analogy for how one can approach the act of giving to others: even a little bit can make a huge difference. To everyone.

--Z

Everest Base Camp Trek: Last Days & Reflections

Note: I’ve posted the links to my Singapore picture album and my first few days in Kathmandu album. I will soon post the links for my trek albums, which will correspond to this and the last two blog posts in title. Please be patient as I work on uploading… with electricity load shedding and very spotty wi-fi access, I’ve only got small windows to work with! Keep checking back for more pictures!

 

30 April 2011

[Note: At the top of the page is written in a blocky, childish script: "Sandhya. To Zoe.”]

The above was written by the eight year old Nepali daughter of the Prince of Everest lodge’s owners. We met her on the way up and she seemed to recognize us last night. So cute and pretty and smart! I want to find out how to sponsor her, how much it would cost. From what Nuru has told me, grade school is pretty cheap, so I thought maybe I could send money each year for school and to help her family, and then help her through costly schools when she’s older. According to Nuru, that’s about $2,000 per year for school level 13 and 14. Nuru will not be able to go to 13 and 14 because of these costs and I’m pondering how and if I could sponsor him as well. [Note: Nepalis who can afford it generally attend school until what we would call grade 10 and attain a School Level Certificate (SLC). I believe they earn something equivalent to an Associates degree if they complete through level 14, although it’s hard to figure out how it works here.]

Well, yesterday was long but eventually we got to Phakding. We ate dinner with Rimu, Nuru and Pasang, and bought a bottle of Mt. Everest whiskey to share, along with Sprite (to mix) and Coke (for Nuru, who doesn’t like alcohol). It was a nice evening. When the power went out, we ate and chatted by candlelight. I slept well!

This morning it was gray out as we set out. It took us around four hours to get to Lukla, and it rained the last ten minutes or so. Lots of flights to Kathmandu didn’t leave today due to weather, so I wonder if we’ll get to go tomorrow… if not, though, Rimu will take us to the Lukla primary school, which would be neat.

***

It’s a few hours later now. We bought Pasang two boxes of Viva baby food powder and Jan doled out a bunch of her stuff: trekking poles, sweaters, water bottles, socks, boots and a head lamp. We gave Nuru and Pasang 7,000 RPS each (about $100USD) as tip, in envelopes I decorated with their names. Pasang leaves for his home tonight, about three hours away, and Rimu and Nuru went to their mother’s house, about one hour away (for them, anyway). So, we’re on our own for teh evening! Tomorrow we’ll (hopefully) head back to Kathmandu… planes flew in and out for about an hour as the weather cleared this afternoon.

I think I’d like to come teach English here, maybe somewhere rural. I will have to check with Oxford Seminars to see if they’ll help place me. Have to write my resume first though. Hmmm.

Hotel: Kong-De View Lodge in Lukla.

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1 May 2011

  Just as I was tucking into my dessert last night, Rimu appeared! Turned out he had to come back to Lukla to confirm our tickets. We chatted a bit, then I went to bed. We were up again at 5am, to the airport by 6am. Jan got hit with some stomach illness, which sucks. Plane ride was smooth and uneventful. We’re now back at the Shakti Hotel. It took the staff hours to get our room ready. We chatted with Pradip, Mountain Monarch’s owner (one of them, anyway), went out with Rimu to do a few chores, and then waited at the hotel for our room. Now we’re showered and sorting out our stuff. I’m hoping we get white prayer flag scarves when we fly out, but I don’t think we will. Jan did insist that we get certificates, at least.

Still pondering how to sponsor Sandhya and maybe Nuru too…

 

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It’s two days later now, the 3rd of May, and I’m fighting off a cold while Jan finishes the antibiotics for her stomach bug. We’ve had two and a half relatively lazy days and as I’ve put together the EBC trek blog posts, several thoughts in reflection of the trek have stood out:

• I desperately want to do something to help Sandhya and Nuru. I want to sponsor them but, being jobless and with a finite amount of savings, I can’t shake the fact that I can’t give everyone all of my money. Or can I?
• It’s really struck me here, more deeply than other places I’ve been, how opulently I lived in the US. Not that I didn’t work for the money I earned, but so much is easy to take for granted. For example, when I think of my three years in Washington, DC, and the standard of my life while there, I cringe a bit. It’s scary and painful to know, deep down, that for the amount I paid for eating out, new televisions, expensive clothes and parking spots, I could have supported and improved the lives of probably a dozen Nepali kids. I mean, really done something worthwhile, made a difference. I’ve been to poorer and dirtier countries, I think, but Nepal has really hammered home how spoiled I’ve been. I don’t feel bad about it, exactly, but I do hope that I can carry the lesson with me and figure out how to do something good for others instead of fairly meaningless for myself in the future.
• I wish I were rich enough to be a full-time philanthropist.
• Trekking was extremely fun and challenging and rewarding. I was grumpy some days, but for the most part I really enjoyed being tired and sore at the end of each day. And I absolutely loved the mountain views and vistas.
• There’s so much in the world to be taken for granted. It’s not something to be ashamed of, being from a place where taking electricity and heat and the possibility of getting an education for granted is so easy, but it is something to be cognizant of.
• I hate fundraising, but I want to learn how I can do so to help the two Nepali’s, Sandhya and Nuru, who made an impact on my world view. Any ideas?
• Rimu, Nuru and Pasang were really good guys. Mountain Monarch, the company Jan and I booked through, are a pretty solid and dependable trekking company. I’d recommend them to anyone interested in trekking in Nepal.

 

--Z

Everest Base Camp Trek: Second Week

Note: I swear, I’m still working on uploading EBC trek pictures. Should get a link up tonight or tomorrow, promise!

 

23 April 2011

Short hike today, but we climbed 300 meters! Up and back took around two hours. We just climbed up the switchbacks (dusty and rocky) behind Dingboche. We saw many memorial rockpiles, a few gumpas and flapping prayer flags. Jan commented a few times about how she was so slow and weak and out of breath (eyeroll). All in all, a good, if chilly with a brisk wind, walk. After lunch I’ll hopefully go explore a bit with Rimu, and at 3pm we’ll learn about something called a PAC, which I think is a kind of pressure or altitude chamber. Next few days will be tough but rewarding, I think!

***

  It’s after dinner now and I’m warm (in the common area). I went out and bought some prayer flags – for me and for gifts – and toilet paper. When I came out of the small store, Rimu was there walking by. I asked if I could join him and we walked up to a gompa. It was windy and cold, though, so the walk didn’t last long. Later, Jan and I learned about the PAC (Portable Altitude Chamber) and watched how they inflated it and listened to why it would be used and the rules surrounding it. This got Jan worrying. Later, she and I went to get her a hat at the shop and still later, I went back to buy playing cards. Pasang and I played a few different games. All in all, a good day. The next three will be interesting…

Hotel: Sonam Friendship Lodge in Dingboche

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24 April 2011

In my room at our lodge in Lobuche, absolutely freezing. Outside it’s snowing pretty steadily, small flakes that are now sticking. We trekked for about five hours today, with around one hour for lunch in Tukla. I’m in my hiking clothes, minus the windbreaker: black leggings, silk long underwear, pants, poly-pro under shirt, fleece, hiking socks, mittens, hat and a scarf. I’m in a fleece liner, inside a down sleeping bag. Starting to warm up but face and hands are ice blocks.

Trek wasn’t hard, although I had a hard time getting deep breaths. Slowing to a snail’s pace helped some. Amazing scenery for the first half. We climbed around 1,800 feet today. On arrival at Lobuche, a minor headache bloomed into a doozy. Was also in a crappy mood… Rimu gave me a painkiller for the headache, which is starting to kick in, I think. It’s 3pm. Time to huddle in my bag and get warm!

Hotel: Sherpa Lodge in Lobuche

 

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26 April 2011

Whew! Yesterday was a doozy! We got up at 6:15am and left Lobuche around 7:05am. It was a tough trek to Gorak Shep, arrived around 10:40am. We had lunch there, then set off for Base Camp around 11:45am. That was an amazing, if rocky, trek, along what I think was a glacial moraine. We arrived at the lookout point for the “new” base camp around 2pm-ish. We spent some time there, taking pictures, admiring the view, etc. All along the trek there we could see the Khumbu Glacier, which was just awesome. At the Base Camp lookout, you can see amazing ice formations, of that icy blue hue that almost eludes the eyes. My only two points of disappointment were that 1) you couldn’t see Mt Everest! and 2) we didn’t go down into or nearer to Base Camp itself. I’m not sure how close you can actually get if you’re not a researcher or on an expedition, but definitely closer than we got.

Anyway, Base Camp is a multi-colored tent city situated at the corner, I think, of Khumbu Glacier and near the ice fall that summit-attempters have to cross before heading up.

***

Ok, so that last was written from Gorak Shep, where we spent the night at the Buddha Lodge. I’m now in snow-covered Pheriche.

Anyway, back to Base Camp and the associated hikes. All along the hike from Gorak Shep to Base Camp, I had a minor but insistent headache. Rimu had said this was a normal effect of the altitude, so I focused my attention on the incredible views: looming mountains, the never-ending Khumbu Glacier, clouds moving, dissipating, reforming. Faces and voices of fellow trekkers started to become familiar, as we leap-frog hiked, rested, and continued. Several people hugged Jan or expressed admiration for her.

It got markedly colder on the return trip to Gorak Shep, and eventually Jan suggested, then insisted, that I go ahead with someone and stop waiting for her. I had no energy … left so I went ahead with Nuru. This turned out to be a bad idea. He raced ahead and I did my damnedest to keep up, my headache increasing in pressure and pain all the way. He never says much anyway and this was no exception. In fact he didn’t say a word. We made it back to our lodge about an hour ahead of the others, but as I sat sipping my tea alone, Nuru having gone to chat with some people he knew, I started to tear up. Honestly, half of it was my by-then blinding headache. The other half was feeling so absolutely alone. Sure, I was trekking with Jan and our trio of hired help, but I felt utterly alone anyway. Nuru is a typical teenager and so … self-absorbed; Pasang is nice but (so I felt at that moment) just tolerated me; and Rimu was just push (again, that was how I felt at the moment).

Anyway, I managed to barely hold myself together until I got to our room. I laid out Jan’s sleeping bag and liner, then curled up… on my bed, still fully dressed… and began to bawl. I know Nuru saw me, too, but he closed the door. Awhile later, Jan bustled in. I heard Rimu ask if I was sleeping and she said yes. Head pounding, I managed to ask her to tell Rimu I needed a painkiller for my head. At that point the bustle began: it seemed our entire group was in the tiny room. The light hurt my eyes so I mostly stayed huddled as Rimu took of my socks and stuffed me into my sleeping gear, looked at my (puffy and red) eyes, and made me drink water with some pills. Then he tucked me in tight and the left, except for Jan. I napped on and off until they brought dinner, which was roasted potatoes and sherpa stew. I was feeling a bit better then, especially since Rimu said many others had gotten sick too. We decided to attempt Khalapattar the next morning, meaning a 4:30am wakeup call. Our room had a light switch but no light fixture, and the bathroom was outside. We requested a pan to pee in for the room. I changed clothes, huddled in and tried to sleep, as another headache was coming on. The walls, like many of the lodges thus far, were ply-board, and this lodge in particular was crowded to the gills. There were several bunk beds just outside our door in what was labeled a “dormitory” and several folks slept in the common area on the benches. All shared a single outdoor, tin-covered and horse-guarded squatter toilet. Throughout the night, voices, slamming doors, coughs, snores and the odd door-rattling accompanied with “Sorry, wrong room,” echoed the entire place. I slept rather well, considering!

***

So, this morning after several false wakeups, Nuru knocked on our door and I peeled off my sleeping bag, shivering immediately. Jan grumbled … and decided not to do Khalapattar, so it was just me and Rimu. It was very pretty out at 5am, clear and crisp with the mountains all around becoming visible. I was tired and sore from the day before, as well as slightly nauseous and VERY cold. We only made it about halfway up, but I got to see the sun touching some of the peaks, as well as a more impressive view of Everest, so it was enough for me. Once back at the lodge, I settled in for another hour or so of sleep. Then, it was up for breakfast and off to Pheriche! It was a long day, made longer by the snow that began falling early on and still hasn’t stopped. We stopped in Lobuche for lunch and Duggla for tea and biscuits. I think we left Gorak Shep around 8:30am and arrived in Pheriche at 5:15pm. It was also pretty rocky which made my feet sore and legs tired. I’m talking all sizes of rocks, from pebbles to golf ball to football to soccer ball to beach ball sized! The snow was mostly dry until the last hour or so, so it was not slippery ice to walk on… thank goodness! I did get Nuru to talk a little at the end, too. Now we’re in a lovely warm common room, snow falling outside. Our room has a light and supposedly there’s an indoor toilet (squatter or Western, unknown). Yahoo!

Hotel: Khumbu Lodge in Pheriche

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27 April 2011

  Trekked from Pheriche to Lawishasa today, stopping in Tengboshe for lunch and a look at the monastery there. It was actually a tough walk there, taking almost five hours! It was another two hours from Tangboshe to Lawishasa, with lots of steep downhill. Surprisingly, considering that we are DEscending from EBC to Lukla, there was quite a bit of uphill today. My left foot is bruised under the pinky toe and it really aches with every step. I talked a lot with Nuru today, mostly about life in the US. He thinks if he could just get there, he’d make “lots” of money fast. And for his standards, it would be true, but it would not let him live comfortably in the US. It’s hard to explain that to him. I started learning how difficult Nepali grammar is today too!

Found out today that Pasang is 38 years old (which I knew) and that his wife Santi is 19! And they married two years ago! Pasang is a real sweetheart so I’m glad he found his girl, young as she is. They have a 3-month old baby boy.

Hotel: Green Valley Lodge

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28 April 2011

So, last night at Neima’s recommendation I had a veggie pizza for dinner. It tasted great but less than an hour later, in the midst of having a cozy chat around the furnace, my stomach twisted. I calmly excused myself, walked out of the dining area, then raced blindly up the rough-hewn, uneven steps to my room. Nuru was getting Jan into bed and they stared at me as I leapt across a bag and my bed to grab my daypack (and, thus, the TP). I heard Nuru kind of chuckling, “Oooooh…..” when I ran out of the room again. Somehow managing not to kill myself, I got to the shit pit outhouse before realizing there were no lights. Too late: I dropped trou and let loose, hoping my aim was good … [Note: I’m leaving out some details here that you really don’t want to know.] Once I got back to the room, I felt nauseous and awful. As I dozed off with an empty pan nearby in case I got sick in the night, Rimu came in and gave me some medicine and I then slept like a rock.

This morning I felt ok, then better and better. Nuru and Pasang went ahead to Namch and Jan, Rimu and I followed awhile later. We took our time, about three and a half hours, and are now back at the same lodge [in Namche] as on the way up. I just took a hot shower, my first in two weeks: heaven!

Earlier, Rimu, Nuru, Pasang and I went to Namche Bazaar to get Pasang a pair of shoes. We split up for some reason and Pasang took me to what I guess is the local’s market. [Note: I later found out it was a local Tibetan market.] We looked at some shoes but then stood in a narrow alleyway waiting for the others. Three guys came up and started talking to Pasang, who seemed a bit tense. They were all (except Pasang) staring at me. When I asked, Pasang said that they liked my hat. I took it off to show them and told them my mom had made it, which seemed to interest them for a minute. Then they asked how old I was and continued muttering to Pasang in Nepali and staring at me. Pasang didn’t look at them or seem happy and eventually walked up the alleyway, me tagging along behind him, relieved. He said, when I asked, that they asked if I had a husband, and that he told them yes. I wonder what else was said… it was very uncomfortable.

Awhile later, we found Rimu and went shoe shopping.

Well, the trek is over in two days…

Hotel: Tashi Delek in Namche Bazaar

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29 April 2011

It’s just lunch time now and we’ve stopped at the same place in Jorsale to eat. It’s a lovely day out, although I miss the mountain views. The river is close and the smell of pines and soil is all around. Nuru is off and on chatty (when I prod him). Another 3-4 hours to Phakding! Last night I was playing cards with Nuru and Pasang and they mentioned going out to a disco in Phakding. On the one hand it sounds fun; on the other, not sure surrounding myself with Nepali’s, probably mostly male, is a good idea. We’ll see I guess. Jan still can’t eat!

Hotel: Prince of Everest Hotel in Phakding