Nepal, final phase

Nepal March 29 Kathmandu

Started out to do some sight-seeing in Kathmandu, beginning with the "monkey temple," a 500 year old Buddhist monastery on a steep hill with several hundred monkeys swarming around, not to mention peddlers and beggars. Spent a couple of hours there, then stopped by a cafe for some momo and some other snacks, including an interesting food that includes as a base something very like puffed rice - but quite tasty. Unfortunately, political realities cut our tour short - first, there is a shortage of gasoline because the government froze prices, whereupon most of the gas stations discovered that they are all out of gasoline - so Raj is more or less limited to the gas in his motorcycle tank until the freeze is lifted and supplies return to the market. Then, on the way home, we encountered a complete road-block. One of the parties murdered a member of another party, so the aggrieved party called a 2 hour strike and shut down all traffic in the neighborhood. Raj was able to find a detour, fortunately, but it took a half hour (and more of the already scarce fuel).

Nepal March 30 - Kathmandu

Today we hired a taxi and drove to several temples outside Kathmandu, notably Bakhtapur and Ghangu Narayan, both quite old and historical, with some very interesting sculptures, including a collection of erotic sculptures, each positioned beneath a larger sculpture of a god. We started in Durbar Square, which was the palace grounds before the monarchy was eliminated; now the palace is empty and appears to be slowly deteriorating from lack of maintenance. Facing the palace are three temples, all hundreds of years old. It was a very interesting day, but I have to admit I'm beginning to suffer a certain degree of temple fatigue. Four final days in India, and I can look forward to something quite different.

Nepal March 31 & April 1 - Leaving Kathmandu

Raj and his family have been very gracious in their hospitality during my stay here; his wife and children, Kajol and Kapil, have been very attentive to my welfare; Kapil has been friendly and curious about what I was doing with my laptop - sometimes to the point that I gave up on the blog and just showed him pictures. He was really fun, if only because of his infectious enthusiasm.

A bit about Nepali houses (I will upload some pictures of Raj's house within a week or two.) Most have at least a small patio / balcony on every floor and a fairly large one on the top floor; rooms open off a hallway connected to this, so every room has to be individually locked at night. Above the top floor is a flat roof patio, almost always with a small shrine where family members worship; on nice evenings this is used for parties; it is also used to hang wet clothing. Raj's kitchen includes a long, L-shaped counter with open space below - they currently store potatoes there - and a gas cook-top, along with a formica-type kitchen table where the family often eats. Houses are finished in bright, complementary colors. In both Kathmandu and Pokhara, nightly power outages are the rule, so it is also necessary to have a battery to charge during the day, that can be used for low-wattage flourescent lighting during outages.


I had an opportunity to reciprocate their kindness and hospitality when Raj suggested that I either take the entire group out to restaurant or fund the purchase of drinks and food for a community party. He seemed to favor the latter, and it seemed more interesting to me as well, so I enthusiastically agreed (we were on the second day's tour at the time) and phoned his dad to start purchasing vegetables and meat. The next day, March 31, we went downtown to use the internet and do a little business, and when we got home the meat had been purchased as well as the vegetables. All afternoon the entire family sat on the patio floor, peeling and chopping vegetables (and, ominously, more green chilis than LaJean and I would use in a year), then trimming and cutting up meat and fish.

I had expressed an interest in goat, which I've never had opportunity to try, but I had forgotten thatin many cultures naming an animal means the whole animal, excepting the hair. "Goat" in this case meant a collection of innards, mostly intestines, which Raj cut into very short sections, using an extremely sharp machete-like knife which he positioned, sharp edge up, on a cutting board between his legs. Likewise, "fish" included the heads, cut in half lengthwise. I don't know if I have mentioned it before, but the Nepalis, like the Cambodians, do not believe in "cutting nature at the joint" - they mostly just whack a chicken or fish into more or less bite-size chunks; consequently, eating involves careful attention to bits of bone, sometimes rather sharp bits. Since they mostly eat with their fingers, this is not as much a problem for them as it is for us fork-users, who often plunk a small piece in our mouths then spend 5 minutes trying to fish the bits of bone out, then grasp the main bone in order to chew off the bits of meat.

Inviting of guests seemed to be somewhat haphazard - Dhana showed up early, and he and Raj went out on the motorbike to get some beer, pop, and a liter of whiskey. Disappointinglyh, Dhana's wife and children did not come. After Raj and Dhana got back with the drinks, I heard Raj yelling to some workers on the nearby construction projects, and to various neighbors, to come on over. The first course was served before anyone else arrived. Electricity was still off, so Raj judged the beer too warm and, instead, poured whiskey in his, Dhana's, and my glsses - wary of all the alcohol to come I let him pour only about one finger in mine. Then one of the women brought me a small dish with some of the hot peanuts I loved, plus a small serving of two different curried vegetables. As usual, I was served first, and the others' plates arrived a bit later. (This is how they always do it - they never put extra food on a central table, but bring around seconds; usually the mother serves guests first, then the men, then other women and children; often Raj serves her later.

The peanuts were delicious , and I went back twice for more - based on the after-effects I may have had too many of them. By this time the electricity had come back on and Raj judged the beer cold enough to pour, so I finished my last small sip of whiskey and switched to (a small glass, probably about 2 oz.) beer. To my surprise Raj also poured beer in the others' glasses, on top of a quarter glass or so of whiskey - everybody but me kept drinking boilermakers all evening. After a bit, a second course of vegetable curry was served, on larger plates with the milled rice I had enjoyed so much in the center, and plenty more milled rice for 2nds. By the time I had finished a plateful of that, with a bit more curry and milled rice, I felt I had had a very adequate dinner - but the women were barely beginning to prepare the meat.

About this time, an odd assortment of people started arriving and being served plates of food - Raj didn't introduce any of them to me, and all but a handful ate their plate of food without talking much to anyone, other than a little with Raj, and left. One did seem inclined to stay, and ended up closing down the evening - a construction contractor, Raj later explained to me, supervising several crews busy on the surrounding building projects. About this time, Raj pressured Kajol and Kapil into performing - dancing to a tinny cd / radio set. Kapil was resistant, but Kajol, who is a very good dancer, after an initial show of reluctance seemed to enjoy the attention. Then the children, including Raj's younger sister and one of the younger adult women, got into a call and response type of song round with Dhana (who has a very nice singing voice.) He would sing a verse, then they would (with much giggling and merriment) make up a humorous response verse.

Thunder-clouds were building by the time the first meat was served - the fish, mostly cut into thin slices, breaded and fried. I ate a couple of pieces but didn't care much for the taste (it tasted like some species of bottom fish) and it was so bony I spent more time fishing small bones out of my mouth, and worrying about the potential headlines, "PSU professor chokes to death on fishbone). Apparently they're not that dangerous - all the others, including the children, ate the pieces with relish, fishing out only the very largest bones. Later in the evening the building contractor also ate two halves of a fish-head, using his teeth to scrape off the edible skin and flesh.

Second came a serving of the goat "meat" in a savory sauce. I ate a plateful of it but found it tough, not very flavorful, and what there was not all that good, so I declined further helpings. The chicken didn't show up until at least a half hour later; it was quite good and I ate several pieces before I realized I had alrready over-eaten - and Raj kept refilling my glass with beer. I sipped as slowly as possibly, so as to minimize the damage - which, I was beginning to fear, was likely to be severe.

After a while, Dhana and the contractor, who also had an excellent singing voice, began another song, about a wayward flutist, to which everyone who spoke Nepali provided verses. By that time lightning was striking the hill-tops and doing cloud-to-cloud on all sides, and it was rqaining quite steadily, so we had all moved in under the shelter of the 3d floor overhang. The song cycle went on for quite a while, then they started up a song game that involved making up a verse (probably comic) around someone's name; that person was then expected to get up and dance for the duration of the song. After an initial display of reluctance, I joined in, and ended up dancing alone, with Kajol and Kapil, Raj, and several times with Raj's mother, who is actually quite a kick. It was fun, but after an hour and a half or so, I began to be aware of my planned early rise, to get to the airport in time to make it through all the check-in formalities, and started making the kind of motions that, I hoped, would lead to closing the party down. Raj said if I was ready for them to go I had to give them a little something more, and explained, buy another beer. So I gave him a 1000 rupee note and he sent Kajol out with it - unfortunately, had an accident on the way home; I think the flimsy little plastic bag they put it in split, and one of the beers she bought broke. Still, one was ample for a final round of toasts etc.

As I feared, after a lot of beer and not much water, accompanied by a lot of very rich food and a lot of chilis, I awoke dry and with an incipient headache at midnight; got up and drank a bunch of water. Then I awoke a couple more times with mild diahorrea, I'm sure the result of too much rich food, so I didn't get much sleep and was pretty groggy when I got out of bed at 5. Raj's wife was beginning her period again, so he was doing all the cleaning up in the kitchen - "where I came in" but I assured him I did not need him to accompany me to the airport. He summoned a taxi, and traffic was mostly light - but on the way to the airport, we saw a tow-truck pulling one of the busses out of what looked like at least a five foot deep ditch. Had to happen.

Overall assessment. Nepal is a study in contrasts: Some of the most spectacular scenery in the world, and some of the most polluted air, water, and land I've ever seen. Lovely, gracious people, and grinding, all but hopeless poverty. Pollution: The guide-books I checked implied that foreign trekkers are responsible for the discarded water bottles, etc., but in my observation the Nepalis themselves are the worst offenders. There are no rubbish bins, which is part of the problem; they think nothing of chucking a used container in the street or into a stream. When the litter builds up, someone may sweep it into a pile and set fire to it, plastics and all, which helps explain the chronic eye irritation and runny nose I've experienced here. Every stream-bed is filled with cast-off items; people wash their clothes in the streams, using both soap and detergent. While hiking in Chitwan, I saw Govinda and one other guide picking up as much litter as they could carry; otherwise, no-one seems to care. Traffic: Think of everything you've ever cussed "California drivers" (or New Jersey or your favorite other-state) and it happens routinely here: crowding in front, turning across several lanes of traffic, stopping in the middle of the street to load and unload... I think there is a commonly understood pattern but it isn't evident. Raj provided a partial explanation - if there is an accident the presumption of fault goes to the person who was even marginally behind; that explains the jockeying to have at least a headlap ahead of the other vehicle, and the retreat when one is out-maneuvered. If I get a chance I will probably return, but if I do I will spend very little time in Kathmandu or Pokhara - just enough time in Kathmandu to visit Raj's family. Raj has suggested some other treks, that would take one out to semi-isolated villages as well as into the foothills of the Himalayas, and be a lot less crowded with other foreigners that I will consider next time I have time free for this kind of trip.

My guides were quite good. I had some difficulty communicating with Raj, and he seemed to go more on his prior assumptions than on information I provided, but as my brother pointed out, an outfitter or guide in a place like that has to deal with an entire range of tourists, and most of them are probably neither as self-aware as I nor as honest about their actual level of capabilities; he's shooting at a moving target. To be perfectly truthful, I think that qualifies as part of the "adventure." Staying with him and his family in Kathmandu was a tremendous treat - a real chance to see Nepali culture close at hand, and they are all lovely, gracious people. Based on comparisons with other trekkers, I don't think more than one in 10 of the other guides are as knowledgeable and service-oriented as Raj. As for the commercial, large-group treks, I personally would not enjoy them. They tend to stick to their own group, don't interact much with either local people or trekkers from outside their group, and they tend to move at the pace of the slowest member. My own feeling is that a group of 3-5 would be ideal - and frankly I enjoyed being a group of one. I also feel the porter Raj selected, Dhana, was superb, and I will separately post something about his situation and his need for help to keep his children in school. Finally, Raj is knowledgeable about a range of Nepali and Indian foods, and did a super job of giving me a chance to try out a range of very interesting food.

Govinda was also head and shoulders above the other Chitwan guides. He knows the habits of the animals, and knows where and when to look to have the best chance of seeing them. He was unfailingly considerate of my wishes and needs, and his suggestions were always good. By setting up and taking me on a 4 hour hike the first day, he got me untangled from the couch-potato oriented standard package and did much to make my visit a success.