Eating my palak alu, I'm on the way to Kathmandu

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When I was at the immigration desk leaving Kuwait, the lady saw my ticket it and with one eye raised said, "So you're going to New Delhi...... Why????" With a half smirk I replied, "Well.... I don't really know." Enter the Crazy.

There is no way to successfully describe what India is like. Every moment is overwhelming. Overwhelm is the verb with the most activity here. When I first landed in Delhi, I got a ride into town and just sat on the steps at the side of a busy intersection. I sat there for 3 hours just looking at India wake up and start its day. The number of people in such a small area. India is sort of like a busy rock concert getting ready to start -- there are tons of people going every which way, lot's of crazies and it's impossible to relax. That traffic and business can function and thrive in this enviroment is a hard fact to look beyond.

I had some loose directions to a friend's house and not exactly sure where I was, I asked some guy on the street where to find the Metro. His English was very patchy so I had to describe it again and again. When my focus expanded to the peripheral, I saw there was 10 other guys listening and wanting to throw in their own advice. Rolling the dice, I took their advice and grabbed a local bus to Dwarka. Let me tell yah, Indians have no fear of eye contact. Sitting at the front of a bus full of my 70+ people, I saw a sea of white beads looking right at my face. There was no judging or malice in their look, but just thirsty curiosity. Curiosity rules over everything in India -- manners, health, and personal safety all come second.

Despite all the horror stories of India, I experienced nothing of the sort. Delhi was much cleaner than I expected. There were never any mobs of naked beggers tugging at you for money. In general, people are either friendly to you or want to sell you something and nothing more. However, since I was to travel with my sister for a couple of months in India, I decided to spend some time in Nepal first.

My first stop in Nepal was the capital, Kathmandu. The city is huge, but there isn't a building over 5 stories. All the streets are compact and are more like alleyways than roads. It's a giant labyrinth of ancient buildings, stupas, rickshaws (tricycle-taxis), motorcycles, and animals. And for that it can not breath nor can any of it's inhabitants. All the pollution from kitchens, factories, and traffic is stuck in the city. There are hardly any wide open spaces for the capital to breath in fresh air. Hence, many people wear a mask over their face to filter the air. Although it helps and you get to look like a ninja, I was coughing and sneezing from the pollution still the whole time.

Walking around I had made the acquaintance of a couple of Indians staying in town. They invited me to cook dinner with them at their Uncle's place. Loving Indian food, I was hoping to find out how to make some. At the Uncle's there were maybe 12 of us, all guys, cooking and joking around. It was a fun group to be with. One of the guys was showing me photos of theirs, vacations and jewelry trade shows. They began talking about their jewelry business and how they make all their money from exports. Oh, but there was a bit of a problem at work. See they had hit their cap for exports and if they exported anymore they would have to pay several thousands in fees. They asked if I wouldn't mind taking some jewels with me and that they would pay me handsomely for it. I said that I was traveling now and not working so no thanks. Ah, but we'll pay you 5 thousand dollars to do it. Woh, red flag. Something's up. "Yes yes, we'll send you to Australia. There and back in four days. We send the jewels from your name and passport number and we'll address it to your name and passport number in Australia. Then you come back! Easy!" As much I would love to make a little money on the side by trafficking 24 karat heroin to Australia, I thought it best to pass. When they figured out that I wasn't that stupid they said ok bye and kicked me out of their house. Hell of a first day in Nepal.

A friend and I decided to rent a motorcycle for a day or two and drive out of the city. Bearing my AZ moto license, it was not a problem getting a ride. For a frame of reference, while it is only legal to be driving with an international drivers license I've known others to have rented bikes with a license to drive a go-kart. So we drive out of town and threw the beautiful countryside of Nepal. This area of Nepal is really quite warm and in fact no snow ever hits Kathmandu. Whenever we were low on petrol, we'd stop in a little little village of only 4 or 5 shops. They would sell us gas in old used water bottles. On our way back in to town we hit the absolute most insane driving I have ever taken part in -- Rush Hour: Kathmandu. It resembled a dirt bike race or a destruction derby or a motorized cavalry than a commute to work. We'd be between two huge trucks coming closer and closer together and I'd have to hope I could throttle out in time. When traffic stopped, all the bikes would weave in and out of the trucks and cars. No lanes. No lights. No law. I think think this is a country blessed to not have any right to bare arms. But we made it back after nick'n only a couple of other vehicles and being run off the road twice.

My next Nepali stop after Kath was Pokhara, several hours west of our favorite capital. Pokhara was a very beautiful place and a trail head for lots of the surrounding trekking. I was in a cafe enjoying my lunch when I saw a Guru in orange robes walk by. He stopped and looked at me and said, "Chai?" I said sure we can have come chair tea. He spoke little English. We would just sit there in silence and he would just start a roaring laughter and then stop just as suddenly. Crazy old man. After he said, "You come with me!" So we went to his Shiva temple, for which he was the leader, and showed me around. Then we did some yoga that he showed me and after there was a big Shiva ceremony with songs and dancing and whole bunch of happy Nepalise. They were excited for me to be there and thought my horrid dancing was great. Next morning I came back early. The old man was reading his sacred books of Sanskrit out loud and incredibly fast, though it took him a few hours to finish. When I sat next to him, we were in this little room with a fire pit and a giant Naga snake made of Bronze that came out of the pit several feet above it. He said something to me, smacked some paint on my forehead and gave me some liche fruit to eat. We did some more yoga after, though it was very strange. Some involved laughing, some was screaming from the back of your throat like you were trying to ticket your lungs. He said he was my Guru and that I should take him with me to America. I don't think he understood that I have no control whether he can get a visa or not, but seeing that there were other intentions involved I opted not to return.

Meeting up with some more friends, we decided to go to great Lumbini, the birth of the Buddha. Along the way our bus had stopped in a line of traffic. We figured it was some sort of landslide and they were taking turns for traffic to pass. But after 3 hours of zero traffic we thought maybe something is up. Finally someone walking up the road said there was a bandai and no one could pass. A bandai is a popular cultural custom in Nepal where a village or a collection of villages make a strike and refuse to let any traffic go by. Anything can start it and the government can do nothing to stop it. There have been hundreds and hundreds throughout Nepal already this year. They are non-violent but are a big inconvenience. This one was started because a bus driver got punched the night before. So we decided to push on through and walk to the other side. As we were walking, it was as if everyone who had to wait decided to join the protest and block the whole road with their bus or truck. Hundreds followed suit. But we walked along without much notice. Personally, I think a town does it to pull in more business. So many people had to stop and buy water and food that it was way more profitable than a non-bandai day. After a couple of kilometers on the other side, we found a bus punching through the parked cars and making people move them. It was a bus going to a wedding and it refused to submit to the bandai. It was full of people and the overflow went to the top of the bus. Seeing we needed a ride, they invited us to join them on top of the bus. So we went along and saw the bus fight at everyone who continued the bandai after the village. But slowly they pushed through and we had a fantastic view from on top. Seeking entertainment I busted out my guitar and started to play. After a half hour or so we stopped again only to pick up the wedding band who joined us on top. We played for a while with the wiley Nepalise music until one guy with a horn said to me, "Guitar very good. Stop playing." Guess it was one musical fusion never meant to be.

After other various transports, we arrived to the birthplace of the Buddha. And to no surprise it was uninteresting and we didn't waste more than 20 minutes at the place. But damn it all if it wasn't totally worth the journey. So after two intense weeks I decided to head on back to India...

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