Bangla, buses, and birals

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Teaching English is more fun than I ever would’ve thought teaching could be, particularly taking into account that I don’t actually know Bangla (my pupils’ native tongue), making things a bit more on the tricky side. But hey, ke garne?

The women are split into three groups, separated by ability level (based on a very simple assessment of their “Hi, how are you?” greetings.) And we jumped right into the learning a few weeks ago. (Wow! Does time really move that fast?)

We began with the basics, the most crucial stuff. After working on their ability to tell where they work, what they do, and to greet an individual, we began to expand to some of the elementary basics: shapes, colors, the alphabet, body parts, food, and objects. Next, we’ve gotten to working on basic actions and identifying things around them. (The full sentences are certainly the more difficult part.) But like I’ve repeated over and over, their progress is pretty astounding, and I certainly couldn’t be more proud.

Last weekend, I tagged along with Robin and one of her previous interns, Iris, on a quick journey to Mymensingh. Of course, the legitimacy of using the term “quick” in regards to our actual transit is debatable. After a very hot, soakedwithyourownsweat wait at the bus stand, we boarded and began the journey away from the crowded city. It was strange to see trees, and even fields of grass. Of course, there are plenty of beautiful countrysides in Bangladesh (particularly in the villages), but it’s remarkably easy to forget that they’re even in existence when you’re living in the hustle and bustle of the city. We arrived mid-afternoon (much later than our initial expectations) and as Robin headed off to a prayer meeting, Iris and I went to meet up with an old friend she’d stayed with the following year. After deciding the three of us were going to try to get some food, we headed into the town, exploring on a rickshaw. Of course, with our hearts set on naan bread (and NOT rice), the task was far easier said than done. Stop one: no naan, no tea. Stop two: no naan, no tea, no daal. Uhm, those were pretty much the only restaurants open. So we resorted to a street stall and got some pau roti and daal (a delicious option) takeaway.

That evening, we took a short boat ride along the river (of course, it was the place to be, and suddenly there were again, crowds of people everywhere), and had a dinner with more naan and fuschka.

boatride on the river

We spent the next morning visiting MCC (an NGO both Robin and Iris have worked for) worksites throughout Mymensingh. One involved the production of paper, all by hand, from the fiber of pineapple, another was where they made soap. Of course, Robin and Iris had the opportunity to meet up with old friends in the process, though suddenly it was time to head out again.

The bus stand was packed. There was to be a hartel (strike) for the next two days in Dhaka, and it seemed that everyone (including us) was trying to get back to the city before being stuck unable to get in. Hartels are very similar to the bandhs in Nepal: all main businesses and virtually all transportation shuts down in the name of some sort of political issue. In this case, apparently, it had something to do with taxing. Of course, they seem to be a bit more serious than anything we experienced in Nepal. Unfortunately, hartels include throwing rocks or large objects at some CNGs or busses that do choose to operate, and other busses are flipped on their side or burned. Yeah, don’t want to get caught inside when that’s going on.

We finally made it on the bus for the long ride back (one that should’ve taken a few hours that dragged out to more than five). Of course, once we did make it back to the city, the battle wasn’t over as Robin and I wandered up and down the road looking for any rickshaw wallas that would be willing to take us the final leg of the journey home. Not that there was a lack of people, the streets were full (regardless of the late hour at night) and rickshaws were everywhere. But inconveniently, they were all occupied or unwilling to take on passengers. After twenty minutes or so, one man agreed to take us, and we finally made it back. Just in time for a late dinner, bed, and a new workweek ahead.

But it went well! (the workweek, that is) Unfortunately I was out sick for parts of it, but I’m proud to announce that the women were shining stars when we had our first group of visitors at Hand & Cloth. They were so excited to meet the new people, and they were able to successfully converse with bits of “I am fine, how are you?” and responding to “What do you do here?” with “I make blankets.” Really, it sounds simple. But I could not be more proud.

Yesterday, between some homework catchup and room cleanup (had to clean the mold I found covering my shoes and half my clothes. That’s hot and humid for ya), I adopted a kitten. (Sorry Robin!) It’s been unusually and pleasantly cool for the past couple of days, as Dhaka has been covered by rain clouds and an intermittent pattern of drizzling showers. Two nights ago, we noticed a kitten meowing into the night, somewhere just outside the house, and when I woke up to hear it still crying, I wandered from window to window, trying to figure out where it might be. (It sounded so close!). Sure enough, I opened a little side window in my room, looked down, and saw a tiny little heap of wet, matted fur, barely moving (but clearly crying) in the mud just on the other side of the wall. Towel in hand, I headed out into the rain. Sure, ya can’t save ‘em all, but the poor little thing looked miserable. After a nice drying off and some picking off of bugs, she was looking much more feline-like, and her black coat is nice and soft. After a quick trip down the road, I had an eyedropper for feeding (she’s tiny, we’re talking 100 grams and probably two weeks old), and today she accompanied us for an exciting day at work. Of course, the women are both baffled and disgusted (birals - cats - are not typically pets in Bangladesh), but she seems to be settling in okay. So a new member is added to the family (until a better home is found, at least). I’m calling her the word night in Nepali: Raati.

Welcome to Bangladesh

Being out of your element can be scary, intimidating, and oh so fun. After a long night trying to stay awake in the Bangkok airport followed by a day of flying, I arrived to Bangladesh mid-afternoon last Wednesday. Fortunately, I was able to get my visa (at least for the first month of my stay) without much hassle and was off to pick up my luggage (which turned out to be covered in some kind of sticky food from someone else’s bag) and meet up with Sarah Jennings. I was connected to the Jennings family through my boss, Robin Seyfert, owner of Hand & Cloth Bangladesh.

Of course coming to Bangladesh, I hadn’t actually met Robin yet, but she’s been inexplicably helpful over the last couple months amidst last-minute planning. So, like I said, she connected me with the Jennings and I stayed with them for my first night in Dhaka. The next day, there was a “western style” baby shower thrown at the house for Dipty, a family friend, and then I met up with Robin and we headed to Mirpur 11 – home for the next five weeks.

It’s a nice little spot, and Robin and I were greeted by her newly adopted kitten Mishti (the Bengla word for “sweets”) as we finally made it into the house late on Thursday night. Bengla weekends span from Friday to Saturday, so Robin and I got up early on Friday morning to head to church. We made a pit-stop at the Hand & Cloth office on the way to pick up some of the kantha blankets that had been completed and were ready to be dropped off at a coffee shop to sell.

After church, we went to the Jennings for lunch then to a delicious coffee shop (apparently the best “real” coffee anyone’s been able to find in Dhaka), then we made a couple stops by garment stores before catching the bus home.

Life in Bangladesh is strangely similar yet so different what I experienced in Nepal. At first glance, things are very much the same: crazy traffic, lots of people, fruit carts, busses, smelly markets – all that good stuff. But Bangladesh has with it a whole new set of challenges and new things to get used to. First off? I thought Nepal had a lot of people (particularly pedestrians, walking along the streets)… Sure, I might’ve been right. But it’s nothing in comparison to the masses of people in Dhaka. Bangladesh is the most densely populated country in the world. And there are people everywhere. Traditional dress (the salwar kameez – identical to kurtis in Nepal - or a saree) is expected, and also the most convenient way to abide by the country’s expectations of women’s modesty with a long shirt and scarf included. As a general rule: cover the butt and chest twice.

Language is also a difficulty. For one thing, very few people (particularly in Mirpur) speak any English at all, and all my time spent learning Nepali is far less useful ajaabholi. But the fortunate thing is that Bengla and Nepali are very similar to one another (some numbers and foods are even identical), and working with the women has helped me start to pick up things pretty quickly. More than anything else, it’s just a matter of me facing the fact that I am really “starting over” in a sense. I’m in a new country, and that means there’s a lot of learning to do, both cultural and linguistic.

Traveling to work is always an adventure – it’s a little over an hour’s walk, or a bit shorter if we opt for a combination of rikshaws (bikes with a buggy attached) and/or busses. We went into the office on Saturday, but Sunday was my official first day as an intern at Hand & Cloth. My first task was essentially figuring out exactly which projects I’d be focusing on during my five weeks here.

the walk to work

Hand & Cloth is a business that produces kantha blankets, quilts made from two used sareees stitched together by hand. It was established here in Bangladesh only a month ago, meant to provide a means of employment for a group of women who have undergone training and counseling at Children’s Uplift Programme (CUP) for the past year. As CUP’s website explains, a mere year ago the women at CUP (and now Hand & Cloth) were “living on the streets surviving through begging for money or selling sex. Many have been trafficked abandoned by their husbands, suffered violence and exploitation. All were sexually exploited or at high risk of being so… a year later these women’s lives have been transformed.

sewing kanthas

I’ll be spending the majority of my time between teaching English to the women, doing “art therapy” activities with them, activities with their children in the daycare upstairs, and photographing and assisting with Hand & Cloth’s marketing. On my second day, I had the women participate in a sort of “therapeutic” art activity with the help of Jenny who translated for me. I had the women do finger painting in an effort to encourage them to practice expressing their emotions in a different way. But the catch was, their eyes had to be closed. We explained that we wanted them feeling what they were doing, expressing their thoughts through movement. It was a difficult task, particularly with something so unfamiliar to them. After the initial “blind” painting, they were allowed to open their eyes and continue their work. It all turned out beautiful. But more than that, I was stunned by what they had to say about their work afterwards. When asked what she painted and why, Jala said that she painted the moon and the stars because she used to look up at them and wish for a better future. A wish come true.

Thailand: Beautiful & Delicious

5/13

Not that leaving Nepal was “problematic”, per se, but I will say that the journey out left us with one last bit of typical Nepal. Up before the sun (in an effort to meet our pre-arranged taxi before the day-long strike would officially start), we wandered down the road from our flea-infested hotel to wait for our ride. (Sidenote: the fleas acquired during trekking seemed to reappear again in Kathmandu. Bites covering the side of my face? A little unpleasant.) We waited for a few minutes, then a few more. The stray dogs in the neighborhood weren’t happy that we were in their territory and they were continuously creeping in closer and closer as their incessant barking increased in volume. Eventually, our taxi did finally arrive, and off to the airport we went.

The goodbyes continued. After saying bye to Junes, Amrit, Rama, and Karen back at the hotel, next it was Amita. A big bear hug and many goodwishes later, it was Jack and I – ready for the next adventure ahead.

Landing in Bangkok, it seemed that a bit of culture shock was already setting in. The airport here is huge. (At the very least, a huge difference from the two-wing airport setup in Kathmandu.) Stepping outside to get a taxi, a wall of heat hit us, announcing the arrival of pre-monsoon season in Southeast Asia. It’s hot.

We made it to our hotel successfully, and the next day involved some quality exploring time in the city. After figuring out the train system and crowding in with hoards of locals, we found our way to the Siam City Center – a huge mall that puts all the big ones I personally know of back in the States to shame. We arranged a busride down south for that evening, then the travels continued. We arrived back at the travel agent around seven that evening… then a tuk tuk, a long time sitting on a bus, a few vans, a ferry ride, and twenty-one hours later, we finally made it to our first stop: Ko Lanta. The travels were an adventure as always, with all of us tourists being directed here and there, from this bus to that bus, without much of a clue of what was really going on. (Funny, it’s interesting to see how little variation there is amongst the tourist culture in the area. Every single person traveling seemed to be white, and in their twenties. Still with enough energy to deal with the uncertainties and adventures of certain South Asian travels, I suppose.)

5/15

Ko Lanta was the least tourist-populated of any of the places we stayed, but it was beautiful nevertheless. On our first day, we wandered our way through a jungle a little ways inland (one that shared an uncanny resemblance with Jurassic park) until we found a waterfall and perfect water hole to jump in to find brief relief from the sticky heat. But most of our time was spent on a rented scooter that provided quick access up and down the coast, from “Old Town” to the beaches and back inland. We even met a local on the pier in Old Town with his pet otter. Seriously the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Handing his furry friend over to us, he explained her name is “Mec” and that he’s had her for a couple of years now. I want an otter.

5/17

After Ko Lanta, we spent a couple more hours on a boat ride to the island of Phi Phi (pronounced “pee pee”). Talk about a tropical paradise. We joined a half-day snorkeling trip where locals take you out on their “longtail” boats. (Big wooden vessels with motors that are clearly not made for life in the water.) We were driven around some of the smaller surrounding islands and let out to jump into the ocean as warm as bathwater. Between leisurely swimming and looking at some beautiful fish, we made a stop at Maya bay. It turns out it’s the same beach where DiCaprio’s The Beach was filmed – and after seeing just how picturesque the whole setting was, it made perfect sense that it was the site of a major Hollywood hit.

Also on Phi Phi, we got our first taste of Thailand rock climbing. Jack was stoked of course, and though I didn’t really have much of a clue of what to expect, I was excited to learn. The thing about climbing in Thailand? Besides the fact that there are perfect rock faces all over the place, when you get to the top, the view is incredible. You could see the entire main bay of Phi Phi and the tropical paradise below. That much more rewarding, for sure.

5/21

The last stop of our journey away from Bangkok brought us back to the coastal mainland to Krabi. After rock climbing the famous beach of Tonsai, more exploring via scooter, and plenty of beach and poolside lounging, it was suddenly time for another long busride back to the city.

Thailand was good.

Oh and something else I forgot to mention? Dherai, dherai phalphul paainchha aajabholi!! (Lots and lots of fruit available these days!) Arguably one of my favorite aspects of life in Thailand and on its islands is the seemingly never-ending abundance of mangoes, watermelon, and pineapple on virtually every street corner. In the more tourist-populated areas there are also fruit “shakes”. Literally just a coconut, pineapple, papaya, or some kind of fruit mixed with ice and water in order to make one authentically delicious smoothie. Of course, all of this is simply to top-off the Thai food just as readily available. Its incredible how we never managed to find a place with “bad” food. And conveniently, most often, the cheapest places along the road typically provided the absolute best noodles, curries, and Thai iced teas.

5/25

So that’s it. As suddenly as our Nepal program seemed to end, our journey to Thailand has come and gone as well. The whole trip was over so quickly, and here I am finding myself on the next leg of my journey. When Jack flew out last night, saying the last goodbye to a fellow SIT-er seemed to give me this “ah-hah” moment of, “oh yeah, I’m kind of on my own now”. It was time to sit in the airport for the night to wait for my flight early the next morning. Time for Bangladesh.

Goodbyes

Goodbyes: I really don’t like them. It’s pretty safe to say they’re never particularly enjoyable – but they also solidify what an incredible time I’ve had in Nepal. Honestly, it was a big risk coming here as excited as I was. I had no idea what to expect of the country and my time spent studying here, but at the same time, I was so ready to get away and I had very high hopes for a successful, enjoyable semester. But somehow, Nepal managed to exceed those expectations

Sure, there are definitely things I miss at home. The simple things, for the most part. A bowl of cereal with cold milk, consistently hot showers, frozen yogurt, a soft pillow, or constant electricity? Luxury items! I can’t wait. And to see the fam bam and friends back home? Another thing I’m excitedly anticipating. Or to be able to blend in while walking down the road without taxis yelling at you, people trying to sell obnoxious instruments, or dodging traffic. But that’s not to say that I’ve become accustomed to a daily life in Nepal that I’m already aware I’m going to miss. The inability to walk down the road without something exciting going one, tea breaks, a lifestyle more laid back than I’ve ever been able to experience in the past, and some amazing people.

After two days of ISP presentations and discussions reviewing the semester, we’ve made it back to Kathmandu. Moving back into Sakura hotel, down the road from the program house, was certainly a bit of a “welcome back to the real Nepal” kind of wake up call. And after a night of swatting at the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears, I woke up to find my arms, legs, and side of my face covered in flea bites. (Yes, fun fact of the day – fleas aren’t just for dogs these days.)

Tonight we will have our “final dinner” (daalbhat, of course), receive our grades for our oral and written Nepali finals, do our final “safe travels” puja, and begin our goodbyes.

So its down to this: less than twenty-four hours of packing and last-minute loose ends to tie lie between me and exiting the country. It’s insane! Time should not be able to fly by this quickly, that’s for sure. Since we just got news of a bandh (country-wide strike on just about every kind of business there is) from 5a.m. to 5p.m. tomorrow, we’ll be getting our taxi to the airport at 4:30 a.m. then it’s off to Thailand. Let the adventures continue.

And for now, Nepal? Pheribetaula.

Siddhyo!

"Finished!"

Soon after Juni, Amita, and myself returned from our epic ABC trekking adventure, it was time to head back to good ‘ol (smelly, crowded, polluted) Kathmandu. We spent one last morning with our saaThi (friend) at our absolutely favorite breakfast spot in Pokhara (tea, toast, eggs, potatoes, spinach, and delicious museli with fruit and curd for an impressive 100 rps. Yeah, that’s about $1.70) and jumped back on the bus for another long ride.

Making it back to the city, we each decided to head to our respective homestays to spend a couple final days with our families. I had mixed feelings about the matter (its pretty incredible to realize just how much freedom you have being out on your own, ie. On ISP), but I was definitely so excited to see Vinu (my didi) and my dearest Aama. I trudged up all the flights of stairs up to our flat of the building where my house is, and was instantaneously greeted with excited Namaste’s. Before long I was sitting in front of a hearty plate of homemade daalbhaat – clearly back “home” at last.

But after unpacking/repacking all of my stuff and spending a couple of great days with the family, it was time to head out to a very different part of Kathmandu (so close, yet so far) – Thamel. Thamel is the tourist district of the city. Crowded and loud, it’s a huge change but it also has some convenient amenities not available in other parts of the city for us Westerners – and that combined with some impressive food options make the situation difficult to complain about.

So, weighed down by two backpacks and a camera bag, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to say my goodbyes. Vinu was so incredibly sweet – she taught me to make her version of dudh chiyaa (milk tea) just earlier that morning and, after saying good bye, turned up again – holding a shiny necklace for me. I couldn’t get over the thoughtfulness, really. And as I turned to my Aama and received the biggest hug I’ve received from a Nepali (hugging is certainly not a big part of Nepali culture), I was sent off with one huge bag full of apples and bananas. (Previously, I hadn’t been entirely sure that my love of fruit accurately translated, but it seems that was clearly wrong.) The last thing Aama and Vinu both kept asking me was “Kahile pheri aunuhunchha?” When will you come again? And all I could tell them was “Malaai tahaa chhaina, tara ma auchhu. Pheribhetaula.” I don’t know, but I will come back. I will see you again.

Of course, saying goodbye is never very enjoyable, but saying goodbye to my Nepali pariwaar also meant being reunited with the rest of the students who’d been gone on ISP for far too long. It was so, so great to see everyone again. It keeps coming up in conversation amongst us – it’s really difficult to get over how lucky we all are. Having only eleven people in a study abroad group (and unfortunately after Kaleigh and Nikki have had to leave, that’s down to a mere nine people!) certainly could be the perfect set up for not being able to get along or relate to people. But in our case, it’s quite the opposite. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re all very different – from all across the States with completely different backgrounds. But the people I’ve met here are some of the most incredible people I’ve had the opportunity to meet in my life, and I feel so lucky to be able to say that.

We all got rooms in the Prince hotel in Thamel, and set into a routine of getting up for breakfast, working on/writing our ISP’s until lunch, hitting up the delicious 150 rupee falafel wrap stand, and working a bit longer until there was absolutely no motivation left for the day. Evenings were much more enjoyable – like I said, there’s actually some good food available in Thamel, and we even hit up some good Mexican for Cinco de Mayo! Then, suddenly, it was time to head back to the program house in Naxal before being relocated to another hotel outside of Thamel. One night there (and a delicious meal of momos at a holeinthewall place on the side of the road – some of the better ones I’ve had in Nepal) and we hopped on a bus to Dhulikhel, an hour or two outside of Kathmandu.

It’s always great to get out of the valley and away from the heart of the city, and Dhulikhel is certainly no exception. We’re currently staying at the Dhulikhel Mountain Resort, and all I can say is that it feels a bit like we’ve left Nepal altogether. The buffet meals are delicious, the rooms have pillows that are actually soft, there are multiple rolls of toilet paper available, shower curtains in the bathroom (wow!), and even little flashlights for our convenience when loadshedding strikes.

It just feels so far from everything/anything we’ve experienced thus far in Nepal – and it really feels like an actual resort. (Make sense, since it is one.) But its someplace I could actually see people vacationing. At the same time, its amazing to think of people vacationing here and not having a clue how much of Nepal they’re really missing. It’s similar to the situation with trekkers. Before talking to people we ran into on our own trek, I really hadn’t realized just how many people come to Nepal to trek, stay in Kathmandu for a day, maybe two, then head on their way. On one hand, there really isn’t much to see in Kathmandu, so it makes sense. But at the same time, trekking in Nepal is really a completely different side of the country. So different from city life, and even far from true Nepali life in the villages that many people pass right through as they’re hiking.

Our first day here, (yesterday) we settled into our rooms and enjoyed a huge lunch before beginning our ISP presentations. It was a long day. Though interesting to hear about the research everyone has been working on, it was also exhausting to sit through it all (let alone give your own presentation). Then, suddenly, it was over.

We’re officially done with school in Nepal. Language lessons are long over, ISP’s are written, final presentations have been given – Siddhiyo! (Finished!)

So suddenly, we’re down to a few final days in Nepal. A few are staying longer to go trekking, and some of us are leaving right away (I’m personally beyond excited to head out to Thailand with Jack for ten days of adventure!) Then, for me, it’s off to Bangladesh for six weeks. I’ll be doing an internship for Hand & Cloth – a nonprofit cooperative for women in the area, meant to employ them and get them out of brothels. I’m stoked for the opportunity, though I really don’t know what is in store at the same time. Yet, that’s how things have been for the majority of the last three and a half months. The future is a mystery, but I’m so excited.

Trekking > Research

The way SIT’s program works, the last month of our time here in Nepal is comprised of an “Independent Study Project” period. Basically, we have a month to conduct research on a development-related project in Nepal, compile a paper of our research and findings, and prepare a presentation for the very end of our program. So about three weeks ago, our little group split ways and headed out to different regions of the country to get to work.

I ended up with a plan to head to Pokhara with Juni (it was an awesome turn of events that both of our topics happened to work well based in the same city, allowing for much less isolation time in our month away). So a few days after the official begin of ISP, we said temporary goodbyes to our homestay families and jumped on a bus, preparing for the long, hot ride to the popular tourist town. Unfortunately, the ride was a bit more unpleasant than it really needed to be being that I’d decided to try a bunch of street food with my bahinis the day before. My theory was this: If I’m going to get sick from trying something, I mineaswell go all out and try a bunch of stuff, right? I’ve yet to decide if it was really worth it (as my stomach is still in a bit of recovery mode), but some of it was exciting for sure.

Myself and my helping sister, Sita (so thrilled to take a picture, as you can see)... and yes, she makes me look like a giant.

Pure sugar cane juice. This stuff was intense - and not gonna lie, this was the only sip I was able to get down.

Anyways, we eventually made it to Pokhara, and after Anna (who had joined us for the busride before leaving for her own adventures in the village of Ghondruk) headed out, Juni and I set out to negotiate ourselves a decent hotel room. (Don’t you worry, we ended up in Hotel Tropicana: good water pressure, HOT WATER!, and even wifi in our room for a lovely 350rps/night for the two of us. Yeah, that’s about $2.50 each.)

For the next week, we each traveled to the respective organizations we were researching and did a bit of writing. Personally, I have been working with the Women’s Skill Development Project, Pokhara. A nonprofit, Fair Trade organization based here in the city that provides skills training and jobs for women, providing them with a newfound ability to be independent, sustain themselves, and provide their children with education. I interviewed several of the women who worked there, with my basic question revolving around whether or not a skills training organization like this one is truly helpful (as opposed to simply providing non-transferrable skills that get the women trapped in their job at the site). In the end, I met some incredible people – and despite the language challenges, issues finding the site in the first place (much harder when EVERYTHING is written in Dvnagri!), and frustrations regarding the lack of schedules in Nepal - research went well.

Realizing that it was completely possible to get the bulk of our work done early, Julie and I decided to make a plan to meet Anna at the village she’d been staying in and trek up to Annapurna Base Camp (way better option than studying, let me tell you)! Pokhara is great, don’t get me wrong. But really? No comparison to the Himalayas.

So the two of us hopped on another bus to Nyapul (a town that, in theory, is an hour or two away. Though its noteable to mention that it takes a whole lot longer when you make multiple stops for people to board and try to sell you their bags of fruit.) Eventually, we made it to Nyapul and headed on our way, asking villagers to point us in the direction of Ghandruk. We finally arrived in the early evening and were beyond excited to see Amita – and we even ran into Bebol! (I wish I could explain exactly how random it was. A friend of ours who lives in Kathmandu, he’d been guiding a trek to ABC himself and was on his way down.) Fortunately, our random meeting turned out to be incredibly helpful as he was kind enough to help us call some lodges and book rooms. (Another strange concept in Nepal – booking ahead at guest houses is by all means not necessary, though definitely helpful in a busy season like it is now. Even weirder – its not uncommon to show up to one guest house and ask them to call a guest house in the next village to ensure that we’ll have somewhere to stay. Very convenient.)

Stop number one: "Snowland" in Ghandruk

In addition to his helpful hints and hotel help, Bebol informed us that he’d left an “Into the Wild” flag in the next village up. So, as it panned out, we were dubbed with the mission to take said flag up to ABC and bring it back down to Kathmandu for him. (Made our adventure that much more epic, for sure.)

On day two, we trekked to Chomrong. The day was relatively uneventful, but it left us plenty tired and relieved to get inside the guesthouse just in time to enjoy some soup while the afternoon rain set in. We met another group of trekkers – two from the States, an Irish couple, and a man from England – and had a great time hearing their stories of their own trek, as they were on their way down from basecamp.

Day three began innocently enough… we started the morning with our new favorite, museli (kindof like a cross between granola and oatmeal) and headed off for a long day of a large increase in elevation. Then poor Juni ended up getting sick – but after a short pit stop on the side of the trail next to the donkeys, she trekked on like a trooper. We finally made it to Dovan – the last village before our destination for the night: Himalaya. It was only another four hundred meter increase in elevation, though unfortunately, the last hour or so was made much more difficult when it got really windy, then it started raining, and soon afterwards, it was sleeting. We were beyond happy to reach hotel Himalaya, let me tell you.

Day four took us up to Machhapuchhre (Fishtail) Base Camp, just a short bit below our final destination: ABC. We got lost a couple of times, but fortunately after some frustrating wandering we finally found the trail again and arrived successfully. It was cold that night; really cold. But it was well worth it, and the next morning (on Easter, conveniently enough) we made the final stretch up to basecamp.

Morning, Day 5: Machhapuchhre Base Camp

Arrival at Annapurna Base Camp: 4145 meters / 13,600 feet

Unfortunately pictures don’t do justice – though I suppose that’s something you have to come to terms with when taking pictures in places as beautiful as Nepal. I think what really amazed me about the whole thing (besides the sheer magnitude of the mountains on all sides) was the drastic difference in setting as we went up. When we began back in Nyapul, it was hot. Uncomfortably so. Soon afterwards we were in the forests of Bamboo and Deurali, and before we knew it, we were trudging through the snow. It’s incredible.

Back into the forests just past Bamboo.

The descent went remarkably faster than the journey up, and by day seven we were back in Nyapul where we began.

Trekking is better than school. That’s for sure.

breaking bridges

Lessons of Nepal

(to be continued)

9. Tread lightly

My experience trekking thus far has been great. Tons of fun really, and I’m stoked to announce that the plan is to head out this week to attempt making it to Annapurna Base Camp! But that’s just a sidenote. Really, I realized that I left a vital story out of my explanation of my last trekking experience, and I couldn’t let that happen now could I?

On the last day of our trek a couple weeks back (from Gorhepani to Nyapul) we went down a lot of stairs. A LOT of stairs. Huge stairs (similar to the ones we’d gone up the day before, except this time going a mile down, of course). Fortunately, most of our descent was over by lunchtime, and after a quick stop we were on our way again, following the river as we approached Nyapul and our final destination: Pokhara.

At one point, it came time to cross the river. It was a small river, more of a stream, really (since it’s not yet monsoon season) and there were four beams of bamboo tied together and stretched across as a bridge to allow trekkers to safely cross. Of course, nearly everyone crossed over without an issue, so when it came to my turn, I figured it really shouldn’t be that bad. (Though admittedly I was a little concerned considering my lack of coordination, but hey – everyone else handled it without a problem, right?)

False. Inconveniently when I went to cross the bridge, the bamboo piece I stepped on in trust that it would help me to the other side… well, broke. Suddenly I was on my hands and knees, awkwardly holding on in hopes of not completely falling into the water below. Yup, broke the bridge. (Don’t you worry, no injuries, some sunglasses swept away, and a little water in the shoes later all was fine and we were off once again.) Solid, chubs.

welcome to the himalayas!!

So the updates I have are slightly old news – but news nevertheless! Two weeks ago, we all spent two weeks trekking, adventuring, and living in a village – providing an experience that demonstrated an entirely different side of Nepal than what Kathmandu has to offer.

Day one: bus ride

Our journey began with the long bus ride to Pokhara – one that was a bit eye-opening to be honest. We passed several accidents on our way down the windy road, including one where a truck and a bus full of people were involved in a head-on collision. Sure, traffic isn’t quite as scary as you start to get outside of the Kathmandu valley, but we all began to question whether or not the roads out there were any safer. On a lighter note, we all enjoyed a dinner “out on the town” in touristy Pokhara – a city surrounding a lake with the beautiful Himalayas providing a perfect backdrop to the scene.

Day two: plane rides = scary times

It was an early morning. We all got up before the sun and headed to the nearby Pokhara airport to catch our flight to Jomsom, a village surrounded by some of the most magnificent mountains I’ve ever seen. (Its times like that, looking a the ridiculously huge mountains where I find myself thinking “Am I seriously here? In Nepal?!”)

Before the flight, we had been substantially informed that it would likely be a bumpy ride. (We were taking a STAL plane – a bit of an unfortunate name to denote its “Swift Takeoff And Landing”.) Our little group of eleven students and five gurus took up nearly the entire seating capacity, and before we knew it, we were off! The views were spectacular, and we flew through just as the sun began to peek over the mountains. We arrived safely in Jomsom, and of course it wasn’t until a couple of days later that we found out just how bumpy our flight had been. Apparently we were the first and last flight that day, and it was a few days before any other flights were allowed to land in Jomsom. I guess that’s why the only flight attendant was looking a bit worried, tightly grasping her armrests. And I thought Minaji (one of our three beloved Nepali instructors) was just looking so worried because she was particularly afraid of heights.

After our arrival in Jomsom we took a very dusty jeep ride to our daalbhaat stop and took a hike up to Muktinath – one of the most sacred pilgrimage sites for Hindus and Buddhists alike. There’s a natural spring that feeds its 108 fountains, and it’s said that one who goes under each and sprinkles the icy cold water on their head will receive salvation. After our lunch break, the trekking began. First stop: Kagbeni. Coming across the village seemed somehow surreal to me. One minute we were in the middle of what felt like a dusty wasteland (conveniently surrounded by completely majestic mountains) until we came to a ridge that overlooked the little village nestled in the valley. After our arrival, a few of us decided to hike up one of the little mountains overlooking the town, and after passing by a few mountain goat herders, we made it to the top – and the view was well worth it.

Day three: trekking and apple pie

The day began with another jeep ride followed by a trek to Marpha – famous for its apples, apple pies, and apple brandy. The trek was pretty uneventful, mostly following a dirt road. But the village was quaint, and its cobblestone road could be followed from one end of the village to the other in a matter of several minutes. (Of course, when walking down the road you’re always slowed a bit by all of the venders trying to sell their dried apples and yak wool scarves.)

We stopped by one of the little lodges to get the “best apple pie in town” – a big claim – and as delicious as it was, it turned out that we had an even better one at the lodge we stayed that night. We ended up staying at the same place as a group of very excited German trekkers who’d just completed their proposed route doing a great deal of the Annapurna circuit. Also – an important note – we had a special meal of chowmein to mix up the daalbhaat menu! I should probably mention: trekking in Nepal is a bit different from what you’d imagine backpacking is like in the States. Here, you travel from village to village, and upon arrival you find yourself a guesthouse to stay at. Rooms are cheap (about $3-$6 a night) and the house aama will be happy to cook up something for you in their restaurant – a main source of income, I’m sure.

Day four: arrival at the gau

After a bit more exploring of the gau (village), we were off again. This time we trekked to our more permanent destination, Tukche. Our group spent several nights there, each of us with a respective family in the village. Tukche is a beautiful village providing an incredible view of Dhaulagiri – the seventh highest mountain in the world at 26,794ft. (Yeah, let that sink in for a minute.)

Though its a much less populated area than Marpha or Jomsom, and (as we discovered through interviews and a bit of research done during our time there) since a “main” dirt road has been built that runs right through the village, many trekkers don’t actually trek the stretch that would require them to stop in Tukche. With so many people resorting to jeeps or even planes, business for Tukche’s guesthouses is sparse, and nothing like it was in the past. The village seems to be dwindling, with more and more people moving away for their education or work opportunities and not returning. The road has made it easy for supplies and medicine to be brought in, but it has also brought about a whole new set of challenges for the village.

We were each introduced to our host families on the first day – and all of us were a bit nervous at first, just like our first introductions to our Kathmandu families that admittedly seem so long ago. Communication was clearly difficult right off the bat, namely because most villagers speak a Thakali, the local village language, and Nepali isn’t their native tongue. The thick accent that results means our struggling language skills were put that much more to the test, but the fact that virtually no one in the village spoke English also meant that we got a lot of practice.

The family I lived with only consisted of my older sister, or “didi”. The sweetest, most adorable thing ever, she was always trying to offer me chiyaa and sitting at the little table raised just off the floor as I studied my Nepali homework – both of us huddled under our scarves trying to keep warm. I still haven’t established if she could actually speak very much Nepali, most communication we were able to take part in was only done through some of the village children that would come over for dinner – and by translation, I mean me speaking to them in Nepali and them speaking to her in Nepali (I think), and her understanding them much better than me. (Shows how bad my accent must be!)

We continued language lessons in the morning, and went between interviews/observation of village life and hiking around the surrounding hills in the afternoon. It just so happened that we were in the village during Holi – a widely celebrated holiday among Hindus. The “festival of colors,” as it’s sometimes known by, is very popular in larger cities, but in the village it’s celebrated a bit differently. Children all have the day off school, and they take advantage of the free time by filling bottles and little spray guns with “colored” water and spraying it at people. Either that, or they’ll just swipe a handful of colorful powder across your face (as was my experience – and there’s a bit of a story here. One kid walked up to Juni as the two of us were walking back to our houses, and nicely reached up to put a dot of color on her forehead, just like when you receive a tikka. Of course, when the kid came up to me, he proceeded to dot my forehead then swipe the color across my face, leaving a huge purple smudge for all the other kids to laugh at. At that point, I realized there were a lot of children and a lot of colors, and it was time to run.)

For the adults in the village, Holi meant the beginning of a fourteen-day long festival of archery competitions, brandy, and momos. (Momos are little dumplings filled with curried veggies or meat, and I must say the homemade ones made and given out at the archery competition were probably the best I’ve had since I’ve been in Nepal.) Of course, it’s an interesting situation when the three are combined, and probably not the smartest either. Ke garne! (What to do!)

Since the entire village only took about ten minutes to walk from one end to another, it gave us students the opportunity to visit each other’s homestays a little easier. Of course, visiting each other’s houses means getting served chiyaa (either black or milk tea) everywhere you go. Like in Kathmandu, the villagers were very much in the mindset of “guest means god”, but here that means piling on the rice and daalbhaat even higher, and it also means serving tea. Lots and lots and lots of tea. Fortunately, the daal in the village was particularly good, which we were all thankful for since it was typically the only thing that was served.

It was funny how by the end of our village stay, our lives back in Kathmandu seemed so luxurious and civilized. Personally, I was a little excited to get back to a warmer, clean bed without rats running through the walls and ceilings, knocking down little pieces of dirt onto my pillow all night long. That’s not to mention the lack of western toilets – especially with our weak American stomachs, you start to really dislike squat toilets when you’re sick.

Before we knew it, our time in the village was over and it was time to say our goodbyes. We began with a jeep ride, then continued on the route by foot until we arrived to Tatopani “hot water”. The village felt tropical, with greenery and trees surrounding the little guesthouses scattered across the hill – a big change of scenery. It was raining by the time we got there, but after a bit it cleared up and we made our way down to the natural hot springs where you could pay 50rps or so to take a dip.

Maathi!!

The next day was when the “real” trekking began. Chandra (another one of our incredible Nepali language gurus) informed us that it was all uphill. Very uphill. Maybe it was just me, but I think I greatly underestimated him at first. But as we began, there were several forks in the trail, and as we’d stop to ask Chandraji or Dandaai which direction to go, the answer was always the same – “maathi!” (A universal Nepali term covering translations for “up, upstairs, and above”. Regardless not necessarily good news when it comes to trekking.)

That morning, we set out to make it from Tatopani to Gorhepani – a trek that involved going up over a mile in elevation, mostly by climbing a great deal of stairs built into the side of the mountain. (And these aren’t normal stairs, by the way. These are huge stairs. Stairs that occasionally make you wonder if your leg is just going to give out underneath you as you ascend up the next couple of feet.) Certainly a challenge, especially with a heavy backpack, the feeling of accomplishment when we finally made it to Gorhepani was incredible. The next morning we got up early enough to climb up Poon Hill, another four hundred foot elevation increase, to see the sunrise over Annapurna.

But that morning, there, amidst the breathtaking sights of sunrise – we found out some heart wrenching news. Kaleigh was a bit behind us after being pulled aside by Chandra that morning. She ended up making it up the mountain in record time, but when she arrived she told us what no one could’ve expected. Her father had died, and she was going home. Everyone seemed to be in shocked for awhile – then it came time to establish what we were going to do. But wasn’t a difficult decision to make, we were all, as a group, going to combine the next two days’ treks into one, making it back to Pokhara by that evening.

Of course, what goes up must come down, and after our journey down the hill from Gorhepani to Nayapul – ahead of us was a trail with over a mile down in elevation - down one gigantic set of stairs. By the end our knees were shaky and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to sit down for some daalbhaat and chowmein. We made it all the way down to Nayapul and then took a short taxi ride back to our starting spot in Pokhara. Back to some kind of civilization, we all got a much-needed hot shower and a good meal before we were to head back to the city. Fortunately, getting back a day early, Kaleigh got a flight to Kathmandu, then back to the US the very next day – and I still can’t get over the strength she showed as we trekked down the valley all day long.

So suddenly it was time to go back to Kathmandu – a trip within a trip worthy to be remembered.

“Never let your schoolwork get in the way of your education”

I’ve made a few short references to the fact that weekend adventures are easy to come by and so much better than sitting around Kathmandu. And after a week of having Nepali classes kick our butts and experiencing extreme exhaustion from city/Nepali life, it’s good to get “away”.

So last weekend, a few of us decided to meet up with our friend Amrit who lives here in Kathmandu. He took us to Nagarjun, a national park a short taxi ride outside of Thamel. Of course (in typical Nepali style) we came across a couple stumbling blocks and things didn’t go quite as planned, but after some negotiating we were able to get in and we began a hike up the “hill”. Nearly the entire trek was up a set of rather steep stairs (a strange concept… switchbacks of stairs leading all the way up a mountain). And we even passed by several Nepalis adding to the stair construction.

Up, up, and up we went, and eventually we made it to the top – on what turned out to be arguably the clearest day since our arrival to Kathmandu. With the Himalayas lining the horizon to the left and the entire Kathmandu valley scattered to the right, the view was gorgeous. There was a Buddhist temple at the top, hundreds of prayer flags strung all around the haven that made us feel miles outside the city. After an impromptu nap in the grass, we were back on our way and after a quick stop in Thamel, Jack, Nikki and I (again, as an impromptu decision) decided to hop in a cab to meet up with several other students in Nagarkot in the hills on the edge of the valley.

We arrived just as the sun was setting, and wandered a bit til we found the guest house where the rest of our group had checked in. A meal of Tibetan Thukpa (noodle soup) and some delicious crepes later, we met up with everyone and listened to a bit of a guitar and drum concert (by candle light, thank you loadshedding) by the men who owned the hotel decided to put on for us – an impressive performance (American songs and all).

We got up early the next morning to find that we were locked inside the guesthouse (the metal garage-type door was pulled down and everyone else was still asleep). So we proceeded to find a back door and do a bit of fence hopping so we could hike up the road to another guesthouse overlooking the Himalayas. We sat down for some Nepali chiyaa (tea) and waited in awe as the sun slowly came up over the snow-capped peaks. Pretty surreal. (And, as a side note, my first glimpse of Everest was also a momentous occasion.)

We hopped on a couple busses and after getting to Kathmandu, we decided to head to Bhouda, the Tibetian district with our new favorite café. It overlooks the Bhouda stupa, a beautiful white dome completely encircled by restaurants and shops selling countless beads, jewelry, scarves, and trinkets. Weekend? Success.

So on Monday, it’s off to Annapurna. Two weeks of trekking, a rural village homestay, and more Nepali lessons as we head to the mountainous region and travel through the deepest gorge in the world. Excited? YES!

nagarjun; view from the top

sunrise over the Himalayas

Bhouda stupa, view from the cafe