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Archive for the ‘Nepal’ Category

Sari, bindi, and monkey

Posted in Nepal on September 17, 2009| 2 Comments »

There is something about a beautiful women donned in a gorgeously flowing and brightly colored sari riding side saddle on a motorcycle that is well, just something to behold. Add a bindi low on her forehead indicating she is likely single,  and well, one can only fantasize. As I looked at one such women, I realized she new she was beautiful; not that she thought she was attractive in some western boob job way, but rather that she inherently just knew; knew at a core level.  When she clasped her hands, smiled, and bowed I only had one thought: God, I would love to have that type of grace in my own life.
A good many or maybe most, I believe, of the motorcycle flying around are actually local taxi. I have not jumped on the back of one yet, but yes I plan to.  And boy can these people ride.  Remember what I said about South Korea and the crazy driving?  I was wrong, very very wrong.  The people of Kathmandu would eat the Korean’s lunch in any kind of driving competition. That whole thing about cross walks, traffic lights, and side walks was a fantasy from another time and place. There is a system however.  I hired a rickshaw for an hour and requested that he simply return to the same spot (I could see my room). thus avoiding getting lost again.  Priorities go like this: motorcycles, cars, bicycles, rickshaws, carts (you name it, they push it), pedestrians, goats, dogs.  Oh yea, cows can do what ever the hell they want; the Hindu’s believe they are holy and many Buddhist don’t eat em.  When walking and you come to a hill, it is considered good manors to help push the rickshaws along.  I like pushing rickshaws.
Left at sunrise for the pilgrimage with the locals to the Monkey Temple.  365 steps that were more like a ladder as I dripped sweat like a Harley leaks oil. Amazing place where Hindu and Buddhist worship side by side in this joint (coexistence note to:  Christians, Jews, and Muslims) temple atop a hill over looking the Kathmandu valley. Holy men offered prayer and comfort for those in need, monks chanted while fondling prayer beads, dogs ate from trash piles, candles burned by the thousands, incence filled the nostrils unil they burned,  and monkeys also did what ever the hell they wanted.
A land of extremes; yes it can be hot, humid, filthy, poor, and depressing, but it is comfortable, beautiful, and alive. A land of faith where over a thousand people met at the temple before 8am to turn prayer wheels, sprinkle rice offerings on the monuments, and pay homage to their past, present and future. Where   parents hold their children lovingly while they sweep the dirt street in front of their homes and places of work – where everyone on the street offers a friendly “Namate” (meaning- the divinity in me bows to the divinity in you).  I love this country, these peopleM
Monkey Tempel, Kathmandu, Nepal
monkey on statue

There is something about a beautiful women donned in a gorgeously flowing and brightly colored sari riding side saddle on a motorcycle that is well, just something to behold. Add a bindi low on her forehead indicating she is likely single,  and well, one can only fantasize. As I looked at one such women, I realized she new she was beautiful; not that she thought she was attractive in some western boob job way, but rather that she inherently just knew; knew at a core level.  When she clasped her hands, smiled, and bowed I only had one thought: God, I would love to have that type of grace in my own life.

A good many or maybe most, I believe, of the motorcycle flying around are actually local taxi. I have not jumped on the back of one yet, but yes I plan to.  And boy can these people ride.  Remember what I said about South Korea and the crazy driving?  I was wrong, very very wrong.  The people of Kathmandu would eat the Korean’s lunch in any kind of driving competition. That whole thing about cross walks, traffic lights, and side walks was a fantasy from another time and place. There is a system however.  I hired a rickshaw for an hour and requested that he simply return to the same spot (I could see my room). thus avoiding getting lost again.  Priorities go like this: motorcycles, cars, bicycles, rickshaws, carts (you name it, they push it), pedestrians, goats, dogs.  Oh yea, cows can do what ever the hell they want; the Hindu’s believe they are holy and many Buddhist don’t eat em.  When walking and you come to a hill, it is considered good manors to help push the rickshaws along.  I like pushing rickshaws.

Left at sunrise for the pilgrimage with the locals to the Monkey Temple.  365 steps that were more like a ladder as I dripped sweat like a Harley leaks oil. Amazing place where Hindu and Buddhist worship side by side in this joint (coexistence note to:  Christians, Jews, and Muslims) temple atop a hill over looking the Kathmandu valley. Holy men offered prayer and comfort for those in need, monks chanted while fondling prayer beads, dogs ate from trash piles, candles burned by the thousands, incence filled the nostrils unil they burned,  and monkeys also did what ever the hell they wanted.
india women at monkey temple
Hindu women and child at Monkey Temple

A land of extremes; yes it can be hot, humid, filthy, poor, and depressing, but it is comfortable, beautiful, and alive. A land of faith where over a thousand people met at the temple before 8am to turn prayer wheels, sprinkle rice offerings on the monuments, and pay homage to their past, present and future. Where   parents hold their children lovingly while they sweep the dirt street in front of their homes and places of work – where everyone on the street offers a friendly “Namate” (meaning- the divinity in me bows to the divinity in you).  I love this country, these people.

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A tale of two rooms

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal, Uncategorized on September 17, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Thanel Distric, Kathmandu, Nepal

I was not worried about security, but that was the scariest place I have ever lay my head.  The hotel where I tried to stay was fully booked,  but they offered to put me up next door and allow me to use all of their facilities; fair enough as their place was pretty nice. Next door, however, was differnt.  Having not slept for well over 30 hours, I did not care as I handed over my $9,000 rupees (~$12,00USD). Where to start with this room – I am pretty sure it had not been occupied for months, the toilet seat was dangling beside the crapper, the shower had a steady stream of water coming out the only hole in the head that flowed any water, and the bucket on the floor was there, I presume, to catch the water as the drain could not keep up with even this minimal flow. The bed was basically a platform with a blanket and I would  have broke out the thermarest and slept on the floor had I been coherent. The sheets were torn and stained, but appeared clean. The electrical outlets and most of the lights did not work…… I could go on, but why. I slept hard.
It happened AGAIN.  This time it took a bicycle rickshaw to delivery back to my room as I got hopelessly lost.  And again, I was less than a block away from my room, but with the night falling, and the hashish salesman coming to the streets, I got intimidated and sought help for 100 rupees.
The food at the preferred hotel was great as I enjoyed vegetable curry and flat bread for dinner, and a honey/banana crepe with really good black coffee for breakfast.  Just as I was leaving, I met a nice couple who had booked two rooms at the desirable place but only needed one of them.  Thus the offered me the other room.  Great, but the hotel would have nothing of it; I am pretty sure they were over-booked and this was going to save them.  That combined with the fact that I mistakenly told them I did not want to book a trip with them, made me a non-prospect for additional revenue.  So I headed down the road and found a beautiful place for about double the money and booked in for two nights.  I wanted to stay for 4-5 but they are full later in the week.  This could work out great as I can write multiple reviews as I am forced to move from room to room around the city.
I need to get to a bank today and stock up on cash; should be interesting.  I know, how could that be interesting?  Well, just getting to the bank will be filled with sights, smells, and sounds the challenge and tilt my western mind’s experience bank. I in the reasonably deep third world now.  And all that intellectual bullshit we talk about back home regarding appreciating how fortunate we are – well, it gets real real and moves from the mind to the heart as I am immersed verses watching it on the discovery channel.

outside first room

View from my first room

I was not worried about security, but that was the scariest place I have ever lay my head.  The hotel where I tried to stay was fully booked,  but they offered to put me up next door and allow me to use all of their facilities; fair enough as their place was pretty nice. Next door, however, was differnt.  Having not slept for well over 30 hours, I did not care as I handed over my $9,000 rupees (~$12,00USD). Where to start with this room – I am pretty sure it had not been occupied for months, the toilet seat was dangling beside the crapper, the shower had a steady stream of water coming out the only hole in the head that flowed any water, and the bucket on the floor was there, I presume, to catch the water as the drain could not keep up with even this minimal flow. The bed was basically a platform with a blanket and I would  have broke out the thermarest and slept on the floor had I been coherent. The sheets were torn and stained, but appeared clean. The electrical outlets and most of the lights did not work…… I could go on, but why. I slept hard.

It happened AGAIN.  This time it took a bicycle rickshaw to delivery back to my room as I got hopelessly lost.  And again, I was less than a block away from my room, but with the night falling, and the hashish salesman coming to the streets, I got intimidated and sought help for 100 rupees.

The food at the preferred hotel was great as I enjoyed vegetable curry and flat bread for dinner, and a honey/banana crepe with really good black coffee for breakfast.  Just as I was leaving, I met a nice couple who had booked two rooms at the desirable place but only needed one of them.  Thus the offered me the other room.  Great, but the hotel would have nothing of it; I am pretty sure they were over-booked and this was going to save them.  That combined with the fact that I mistakenly told them I did not want to book a trip with them, made me a non-prospect for additional revenue.  So I headed down the road and found a beautiful place for about double the money and booked in for two nights.  I wanted to stay for 4-5 but they are full later in the week.  This could work out great as I can write multiple reviews as I am forced to move from room to room around the city.

second room view

View from current room

I need to get to a bank today and stock up on cash; should be interesting.  I know, how could that be interesting?  Well, just getting to the bank will be filled with sights, smells, and sounds thar  challenge and tilt my western mind. I in the reasonably deep third world now.  And all that intellectual bullshit we talk about back home regarding appreciating how fortunate we are – well, it gets real real and moves from the mind to the heart as I am immersed verses watching it on the discovery channel.

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First Impression: OMFG

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal on September 16, 2009| 5 Comments »

Thamel/Kathmandu, Nepal

Remember that movie, you know the one, where the guy is stuck in the airport and can not get out of “no man’s land” – between the country and the airplane.  I was that guy. I arrived in Singapore in the wee hours of the morning and my back pack had not been checked through .  So  to retrieve my bag , I needed to go through immigration, get my bag, check my bag for the next leg and return through immigration.  /Easy. I existed no-mans land and readily found my bag.  Problem, baggage check-in  was closed and they guys with machine guns told me I could not stay in this area..  No problem, I go would upstairs; no you can not stay here either, but  you can go through immigration and  have your passport stamped for departure, and you can stay at the gate. Now those of you  who know something about international travel just figured out that I was about to screw up.  Back through immigration with my pack and my carry-on with a plan to check my bag in the morning.. I executed the plan and nearly qualified for “locked up abroad”.  “You have all ready left the Country and can not return and leave again”: “WHAT?“ Ok, no problem. I will check my pack on this side….not an option. I will check it at the gate….not an option because you have to go through security and they are never going to allow those hiking poles, Swiss Army Knife, large bottle of sun screen – besides your pack is to big.  Like I said, I was that guy. Fortunately Sara had given me her bracelet that she made of wooden prayer beads during her Buddhist  retreat. “For good Karma, and safe travels” was her parting comment. So I closed my eyes, ran each bead through my fingers slowly and said “I am leaving this up to you, as I am sure you have a plan but it seems like I am kinda screwed here; any help is  greatly appreciates”  As my flight approached departure time no solution was apparent , and  while everyone was very kind, no one had any real good ideas.  Inspiration: I cranked all of the straps down on my pack, and expelled all the air from the dry bags and I put more duct take over the tips of my hiking poles.  I then waited for the line to subside, walked up to the X-Ray machine like I owned her, ””Is this your pack Sir”, “Yes it is” as I took it off the ramp smartly and  carried my entire kit onto a completely full plane.  Oh yea, I now have some very sharp objects, and other contraband  on this flight, as I write this entry. I was feeling pretty smug with myself until I remembered that I turned this one over: “Hey, good plan, thanks for the help”,
At about 3am, before realizing  I was actually  in a jam, I found a small corner upstairs and wrapped  myself in a fetal position around my gear. Now, without my glassed I cannot see…. Literally, and it is one of my real fears -glasses separation.  But when I suddenly woke around 4am, I could tell they where  in uniform, four of them, had guns, on a mission, and they were heading straight for me.  I snapped to full attention, and kept my hands very visible.  “Passport and boarding pass, Cross reference his passport number against the boarding pass. No problem, sorry to have bothered you Sir”  :“Oh that is OK fellas , thanks for asking”.  I am just glad they had not embraced everything American as I had visions of Dick Head Chaney exposing the need and virtue of “enhanced techniques” Not sure who or what they were looking for but I was glad it was not me as these are not the donut eating rent a cops from Sacramento’s NON-international airport. Screw sleeping, just give me coffee.
So I have been up for something like 26 hours now (less the short -pre interrogation nap). I have a simple mission for today: Get 90 day Nepal visa,, get Nepalese Rubes (hope ATMs work better than in Korea) get a taxi to Thamel district of Katmandu, find a room, Sleep.
Remember that movie, you know the one, where the guy is stuck in the airport and can’t get out of “No man’s land” – between the country and the airplane, but not in either?   I was that guy. I arrived in Singapore in the wee hours of the morning and my back pack had not been checked through .  So to retrieve my bag , I needed to go through immigration, get my bag, checked for the next leg and return through immigration.  Easy. I existed via immigration and readily found my bag.  Problem; baggage check-in  was closed and the guys with machine guns told me I could not stay in this area.  No problem, I go would upstairs; no you can not stay here either, but  you can go through immigration and  have your passport stamped for departure, and you can stay at the gate. Great.  Now those of you  who know something about international travel just figured out that I was about to screw up major.  Back through immigration with my pack and my carry-on with a plan to check my bag in the morning.  I tried to execute  the plan and nearly qualified for “locked up abroad”.  “You have all ready left the Country and cannot return and then leave again”.  This is a one way ticket:  Ok, no problem! I will check my pack on this side….not an option. I will check it at the gate….not an option because you have to go through security and they are never going to allow those hiking poles, Swiss Army Knife, large bottle of sun screen – besides your pack is too big.  Like I said, I was that guy. Fortunately Sara had given me her bracelet that she made of wooden prayer beads during her Buddhist  retreat. “For good Karma, and safe travels” was her parting comment. So I closed my eyes, ran each bead through my fingers slowly and said “I am leaving this up to you, as I am sure you have a plan,  but it seems like I am kinda screwed here; any help….greatly appreciated”  As my flight approached departure time no solution was apparent,  and  while everyone was very kind, no one had any real good ideas.  Inspiration: I cranked all of the straps down on my pack, and expelled all the air from the dry bags and I put more duct take over the tips of my hiking poles.  I then waited for the line to subside, walked up to the X-Ray machine like I owned her:  ”Is this your pack Sir”, “Yes it is” as I took it off the ramp smartly before they could say another word and carried my entire kit onto a full plane. I was feeling pretty smug with myself until I remembered that I turned this one over: “Hey, good plan, thanks for the help”.
At about 3am, before realizing  I was actually  in a jam, I thought foolishly that I may get some sleep. I found a small corner upstairs and wrapped  myself in a fetal position around my gear. Now, without my glasses I cannot see…. Literally, and it is one of my real fears – glasses separation.  But when I suddenly woke around 4am, I could tell they where  in uniform – four of them -had guns – on a mission, and they were heading straight for me.  I snapped to full attention, and kept my hands very visible.  “Passport and boarding pass, cross reference his passport number against the boarding pass. No problem, sorry to have bothered you Sir”. “Oh that is OK fellas , thanks for asking”.  I am just glad they had not embraced everything American as I had visions of Dick Head Chaney espousing the need and virtue of “enhanced techniques”.  Not sure who or what they were looking for but I was glad it was not me as these are not the donut eating rent a cops from Sacramento’s NON-international airport. Screw sleeping, just give me coffee.
So I have been up for something like 26 hours now (less the short -pre interrogation nap). I have a simple mission for today: Get 90 day Nepal visa, get Nepalese Rubes (hope ATMs work better than in Korea) get a taxi to Thamel district of Katmandu, find a room, Sleep.
OMFG: I have never, and I mean never seen anything this crazy.  That is all I can say for now as I am thinking the Nepal airport, the hucksters, the AMT experience, and nearly getting killed no less than 50 times on the taxi ride is maybe a result of sleep deprivation. Sent John a quick text with a lot of profanity asking what have I done; he simply wrote back “embrace the anarchy”. Do I have a choice? Or like we used to say on the PCT in half jest when we reached a tough spot: “We are going to die’.

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