Far from the comforts of home...

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Before I say anything, I must first address the fact that I am in serious need of a burger. My lack of sufficient protein could have very well affected the quality of my writing. I have lost my focus. All I can think about is meat. There are stinkin’ cows walking all over the streets down here and everyone just ignores them. They drive around them as if they were supposed to be part of traffic and not actual livestock on the loose. I keep praying that some daydreaming truck driver will plow into one, so we can have us a country-style cookout. Now, some of you ladies back home have been trying to comfort me by saying that tofu can be just as tasty as meat if you season it properly, well, thanks for trying, but have you lost your mind? Do realize the fragile state I’m in? I could very well flip out and pounce on one of these street cows and get myself thrown into a Nepalese prison. How would you feel then? I just spent my first Thanksgiving ever without a proper bird. No meat, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn on the cob, green beans, or grandma’s assortment of pies. My choices were rice, noodles or dumplings (aka, Momo). But not to worry, I’m going to pull through this. I head to India next, which still means no cow, but at least they don’t mind cooking up the rest of the meat world. Everything is going to be OK…I will survive.

Forgetting the comforts of home and taking on a whole new frame of mind is the only way you can truly survive in your travels. This whole lack of meat, whining thing I’m doing is really just me not adapting. I start thinking of how I get things back home and it makes me a big baby. If I really wanted meat, I could get it. It wouldn’t be the way I like it served, but it still is meat. You can always get chicken or fish on the street or in most restaurants, but it is served with all of the parts that I usually don’t have to deal with: skin, scales, bones, cartilage, fat and other body parts. The vendors simply toss the whole fish of the grill, eyeballs and all, and leave it for you to pick through. It’s not so bad, but the environment, now that is what can really deter. At this moment in time, the streets of Kathmandu rank up there with some of the most polluted I’ve encountered, due to the fact that the local trash collectors are on strike and have been so for a month. Piles of trash lie everywhere and most are set a blaze to slowly burn off. This doesn’t make for a good seasoning to the meats lying near. The small streams of water rolling past don’t help much either. The combination of trash and sewage disposal makes for a rather foul smell. The big cities of the Third World are one of the biggest contrasts that you have to adjust to and learn to live with on a day to day basis. The dust and polluted air can really do a number on your hair, lucky for me, but it can also to a number on your body. I picked up a nice little sinus infection from time spent on the back of Shangbu’s motorcycle with no face cover. This would be ailment number…yeah, I don’t know, but it’s gotta to be some kind of record.

Over the past two weeks, since my trek through the Himalayas, I have traveled to different cities in Nepal and even went on a little safari in the Chitwan National Park. Most of my time was spent in Kathmandu living with the Lhomi’s though. They took me in and treated me like part of the family. It was really a treat to spend time living with and learning the culture from locals. It also took a lot more adjusting, which is good. It makes the experience much more real.

In the small apartment-like building of the Lhomi’s, the bottom floor is shared by Shangbu’s family and their neighbor. The quarters are close and the bathroom, well, it’s too close. The two families share one bathroom at the end of the hall, which is less than twenty feet. The toilet is a hole in the floor with foot pads on either side. Water is taken from a spicket, just beside the toilet, and poured into the hole in order to flush the contents. The handle on the spicket is broken, so a small string is tied tightly around the top of the nozzle to prevent it from opening the flow of water. I found this out, rather abruptly, on my first attempt. Early one morning, after finishing my business, I reached over to refill the small water pitcher, so I could complete the flush. Suddenly, the small rope that was fixed around the handle sprung loose and a heavy flow of water came gushing from the nozzle. Pants still ajar and mind half awake, I fumbled with the string, trying to return it to its proper position. I had no success. Water soon filled the pitcher, covered the floor of the bathroom (which has a shower drain), and threatened to breach the bathroom door and spill into the hallway. I scurried out of the bathroom with my belt dangling about, pants unzipped and wearing a panicked look across my face. I made the length of the hallway in seconds and began rapping on the Lhomi’s bedroom door. I guess with all of the commotion, I woke up the entire floor, because the lady next door emerged from her room and quickly contained the situation. She was my hero and I was the comic relief. Shangbu’s wife poked her head out and asked if everything was OK. I just pointed toward the bathroom, wiped the back of my hand across my forehead and gave a sigh of relief, and then thought to myself, yeah, I think I still need to flush.

Toilet breaks are not the only thing that takes adjusting to. Showers are the worst; for me at least. At the Lhomi household, shower time is a little more difficult than what we go through back home. There are large buckets of water in the bathroom and hot water doesn’t just come at the turn of a knob. Now, I have had plenty of experience with bucket showers and no hot water in Guatemala, but at least it is hot there. Kathmandu is slowly moving into winter and it can be a bit chilly, especially standing naked on a wet concrete floor, with the upper part of the bathroom wall open to the outside. The good news is, I did get my hot water, well, warm that is, but it took over an hour for one bucket. In order to get warm water, Shangbu stuck an electric prod device down into a bucket of water and let it sit and slowly warm over an hour. After the water had reached the preferred temperature, I began my bathing process. With one bucket of cold and one bucket of hot water in front of me, I slowly mixed the two together into a large bowl. I then took a small bowl and began to scoop and pour the warm water over me. The process went on: wet, soap and rinse; wet, soap and rinse, until I was too cold and could bear no more. Then I took my towel, which was only the size of a hand towel, patted myself semi-dry, threw on the same dirty cloths that I had on before and scurried off to my room whimpering like a little baby. Now you see why I have only had three showers in the last month. Jen and Kemble, I can hear you both now; “Ewwh, you’re gross,” well…you’re grosser than gross! And don’t worry girls, I alternate my underwear at least every four days or I use the flip method. You know, I flip them inside out for day and then backwards for another and on and on like that. The same goes for socks; two pairs at a time, alternating top and bottom each day. Works like a charm, but only in the cold season when the smell is suppressed. In the summer, it’s thongs all the way. No, not my underwear; my shoes…my flip flops. Sorry, I was talking like an Aussie.

Let me rewind a bit and get to where I left you all last. After the Himalayas, I decided to relax a bit and get off my feet. I headed six hours west of Kathmandu to the city of Pokhara and settled in beside the lake. It is a cozy little town just at the foot of the Annapurna mountain range. This was another possible trek I had in mind, but decided against it after the Everest Base Camp hike. It would have been nice, but I had just spent nearly two weeks hiking, so I wanted to do something a little different. What I had in mind was to spend a few days in Pokhara resting and then head south to the Chitwan National Park for a small safari…and that’s just what I did.

Pokhara was great, but I really didn’t do much besides shop, read and watch movies, which was just what I needed. There are a lot of adventurous things to do in the town like paragliding, trekking, and riding motorcycles, but I decided to slow down the pace a bit and recharge…because the jungle awaits.

In Pokhara, I booked a three day package to Nepal’s most famous jungle reserve - Chitwan National Park. The park covers an area of 932 square kilometers, which is made up of jungle, grasslands, deciduous forests and the flood plains of the Narayani, Rapti and Reu rivers. I stayed at a not so popular jungle lodge, which was nice, because it helped me escape the herds of tourists in the area. My days consisted of visiting the elephant breeding center, taking a canoe ride down the Rapti river, going on a jungle walk in search of wild animals, bathing elephants in the river (Anna - you would have loved this), and going on an elephant back safari into the jungle. It was all really exciting. I especially enjoyed bathing the elephants in the river. I got to sit on top of one while he sprayed water over us, splashed about flapping his ears and waving his trunk, and even got to hold on for dear life while he tried to shake me off at the command of his trainer. It was really an amazing experience.

The park is home to many animals, birds and reptiles, but the three I was most interested in were the One-horned Rhinoceros (endangered), Marsh Mugger Crocodile and the Royal Bengal Tiger. I saw two out of three and that made for a good day. The tigers are nocturnal hunters, so to see one of those was very rare. The rhino sightings made my visit though. The first was when we least expected it. Just after arriving, we went for a tour of their elephant breeding facility. On the walk over, our guide caught a glance of one off in the brush, just beyond the barbed-wire fence surrounding the area. The three of us (I told you it was an unpopular lodge), moved in closer to see. The view from the fence was obscured, so the guide asked if we wanted to climb over and try and get a better look. I weighed the risks in my mind, looked down at my flip flop wearing feet (I had only planned on a quick facility visit…give me break), and did the only thing a sensibly intelligent person would do - hopped over fence just as giddy as a school girl. As we slowly circled around some trees, the guide (who was younger than me) informed us that rhinos have terrible vision and can’t turn quickly, so if it charges, run zig zag, climb or get behind a tree, and sing country music (yeah, I made that one up…but it probably would work). When we finally came to the other side of the trees, there it was, chewing on some grass, the endangered One-horned Rhino. Then suddenly, I accidently broke wind and the chase was on…nah, I kidding, that would have killed him and then I’d be in some real trouble. The close encounter with the rhino was such a blessing, he just stood there eating and never even paid attention that we were lurking at just a short distance. That was a great start to the safari and it hadn’t really even started.

The following day, we rose early and took canoes down the Rapti River, deeper into the jungle. On the trip down we saw many types of birds and a lazy crocodile sun bathing on the sand bar. After reaching our destination, we exited the canoe and continued on by foot. During our jungle walk, we saw elephants in the distance, spotted deer, and two types of monkey (Langur and Rhesus). We did see the paw prints of the male and female tigers, but that was all. Later that evening, we loaded up on elephants and set off into the jungle again, but this time with a better view. This jungle expedition included tourists from all of the lodges, so we moved through the forest in large numbers: Ten elephants each carrying four tourists and a guide. We trampled our way through the trees branches and down along the rivers edge. The outing lasted two hours and we saw two large crocodiles and two rhinos (a mother and her baby). Being that we were on elephants, we were able to move right in next to the rhinos and not scare them off. We were so close…I wish I’d had my rifle…kidding…I’m still not that desperate for meat.

After a week away from Kathmandu, it was time to return and see my friends the Lhomis once again. Now, my bus rides in Nepal have been a whole other experience. My bus from Pokhara to Chitwan broke down on the side of the road for over an hour and my bus from Chitwan to Kathmandu took ten hours instead of five, because of a horrific traffic jam. The roads of Nepal remind me of the highlands of Guatemala and so does the driving. Well, not as crazy, but still, nothing like home. There are no traffic laws enforced by anyone and a lot the buses are in terrible condition and shouldn’t even be on the road. Children sit atop many of the buses (inside the racks of course) while they careen on down the road, weaving in and out of the one-lane, curvy highway. I even saw a goat standing on top of a passing bus just hanging out, tied to the luggage rack. It’s just another reminder that I’m far away from home.

Back in Kathmandu, I got back to relaxing. I finished reading a book that I had picked up at a hostel in Bangkok called Red Azalea, by Anchee Min. It is a moving autobiography of a woman who lived through some of China’s most oppressive years when the country was under the leadership of Mao and communism choked the life out of everything. To hear her stories, again reminds me how very blessed we are to have been born in the land of the free. The more I travel and see with my own eyes and the more I hear from those who lived through something that I can’t even understand, the less I take things for granted. When I think of home and all that we have; the freedoms, the security, the comforts and on and on, I feel blessed, but at the same time ashamed...ashamed of how so many of us who have so much, have no clue about the real hardships of life. I see so much poverty everywhere I go and it can get a little overwhelming at times. There are just so many homeless, so many starving, so many orphans, so many with so little…it is painful to see. I have to walk by so many and simply ignore them when they ask for change, because there are just too many. What can you do? I haven’t found the perfect answer, but then I see Shangbu sitting on his floor across from me, working diligently to put together some Bible messages and translate them into a language that the mountain villagers will understand and it moves me. Maybe it’s not money they need, but love. I’ve seen what money can do and it is surely not the answer.

I spend a lot of my time walking around the streets and through the markets simply observing. In every country I visit, there are always stands set up selling American movies and music. You can get everything from Tom Cruise’s new Blockbuster to P-Diddy’s new music video. Countries all over the world watch our movies and listen to our music for entertainment. Now, they still watch and listen to their own stuff as well, but our culture is out there for the entire world to see…and that is what is bothering me. You have our rock and rap stars going around in videos flaunting their money, cars, women and wealth. Bragging in their lyrics how they have it made and how money is the answer. They say how they came from a life of poverty and have now made it to the “Big Time” on their own hard work…well; they don’t even begin to know about poverty. At least their country had the money to support them and didn’t let them starve to death.

I remember when I was in Africa recently and I went to check the internet for recent news from the US and the first thing that popped up on the screen was that Paris Hilton was going back to jail and some other breaking news about Brittany Spears. It made me sick…it still makes me sick, because I see it every time I get on the internet here to see what is going on in the world. The news of the Third World countries reads death and conflict, and ours reads Lindsey Lohan got in trouble again. It is an embarrassment. The whole world has their eyes on us and we deliver them tabloid trash. I’m sorry I’m going on about this, but it has really been getting to me. I see little children here covered in dirt and starving, and then I think of Paris Hilton walking around with a $100,000 diamond watch. It makes me realize that our country needs saving just as much as all these other countries. At least most of the people who have so little are searching for an answer; for a Savior. Many of those who are lost in the so-called Western countries have no clue that they are walking down the wrong path, and I’m not just talking about those who are extremely wealthy. I’m referring to all of those who are comfortable, well off and don’t think they need a Savior, or those who think that money is the only answer because that is what our world is telling them. I honestly believe that these people need more help than those who are poor but are searching, because at least their eyes are open looking for an answer. Most of the people who are comfortable in their ways have their eyes shut and don’t even realize they need to open them. OK, I’m finished rambling…sorry. I just had to get that off of my chest…I feel much better now.

My final days in Nepal went by in a wisp and I enjoyed ever second of it. I spent the mornings and dinners with the Lhomi family and my days running around Kathmandu or simply relaxing at home. I met up with a young Irish girl (Sherine) that I met during my trek to Everest Base Camp. We spent my last two days in Kathmandu touring the city and eating at nice restaurants. I told her of my desperate need for a proper burger, so we scoured the streets until we found a place that had one. I am now content, at least for a while, and that should last me through India…I hope. One thing that we almost did do was go bungee jumping just north of Kat., but the price ended up being a little more than I would pay and as for Sherine, well, she was worried that the jerking motion from the bungee would detach her retinas...she cracks me up (somebody had spooked her with some horror stories). We did go see the Monkey Temple though and watch as rabid little monkies scurried all around us. Also, we attempted to find the place where the locals are cremated...yeah, don't ask me...Sherine had read in some book or heard from somebody that it was a really neat site to visit. Well, we never found it. When we tried to explain to the taxi driver that we wanted to go to the place where they burn the dead bodies, he looked at us like we where completely crazy. I put all of the blame on Sherine and explained to the driver that Irish are a little funny like that...so he didn't kick us out of the vehicle and we found us another place to go and see...good times.

I sure will miss Nepal and the friends I met here. This country is one of my favorites that I’ve visited. I’m sure I will return again one day. Well, I can’t believe it’s time to go to India. I’m sure this will be quite the culture shock, although, Nepal will have given me a little taste, so I should be fine. Until next time, take care and tell your kids their Uncle Curl said hello.

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Photos

The Lhomi Family
Shangbu, Chhing Chippa and Prasamsa