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.
No comments:
Post a Comment