We're Chilly Willy, but the food is hot and spicy!

Our family is getting along surprisingly well being that we sleep and 'hang out' together under blankets in a chilly 2 metre square room from about 4pm to 8am, with a break to go downstairs for dinner. After dinner Vincent joins us for a fun Israeli card game that we learnt in the tea houses while trekking. Raven usually wins. The power 'brown outs' have recently changed their times. Now there's no power between the inconvenient hours of 6 and 9pm. Heath has been excellent at ensuring that our headlamps and electronic devices are powered up.

Daily I will sit in the kitchen and try to converse with the family. They sometimes ask me to help Soobaum with his homework. I find this is an excellent way to gain an afternoon cup of tea! Unfortunately we seem to be allotted only the morning cup. At least now Heath and Raven receive their sweet black (brown) coffee. Yes, Raven enjoys a cup of morning coffee, not tea.

I am interested in how the women cook, but the language barrier is pretty big, so I am left with watching the proceedings. I know most of the Nepalese vegetable names and I am trying to figure out the spices that they include. Turmeric seems to be the popular one. We eat a lot of potato and cauliflower veggie curry with the dhal bhaat. Sometimes they make pickles. In the larder area there are various jars of pickled items. They taste 'mitho' (tasty) but look pretty disgusting. If you found one of these jars in your pantry, I don't think you 'd even want to try to open it!

I am enjoying teaching at the school. The last few days have been cloudy, so it seems as if I never take off my fleecy sweater and down vest. The kids wear their jackets in class, too. Heath has had little luck with volunteering in the monastery. The monks have been absent for much of the time we have been here and now they are preparing for exams before they go south. This means that we will also head south for Kathmandu before too long. The Tibetan refuge school in Chelsea (higher up the ridge) that we visited will also close for the winter because it is too cold to teach.

I can't say that I am too sad to leave this beautiful area. We are cold much of the time. It isn't a problem that it is cold outside, but that one can not warm up INSIDE the house. We can see our breath inside from dawn to dusk, if not longer. There is no insulation, we can see light through cracks in our walls, and the window pane doesn't fit in the frame, either. We have to wear our outside clothes for eating, as the family leaves the front door open much of the time and there is a cool breeze entering the eating area. The warmest place is in front of the fire, but the family usually sits there. Lately they have been sitting around an open campfire-style iron holder that is filled with red-hot smouldering embers. It does little to warm up the room, and nothing for the rest of the house. Washing clothes in cold water is brutal on the hands. I find I can wash only two articles of clothing before my hands are red and burning. I have to take a break and shove them in my pockets to thaw before continuing. Yesterday I realized I burnt off all the little hairs from the back of my fingers tops. This must have happened when I was holding them in front of the stove-top flames to warm up after doing laundry!

Raven has her birthday today. Luckily for us a bakery just opened that advertised western style birthday cakes. We asked the baker to make us one, and when we enquired about the cost he said he'd know after he made it! Don't you love Nepal?! She will now be allowed access to Facebook, so you may be getting a friend request soon. We were planning on skipping school on her day, spending the morning at the internet 'cafe' so she could set up her profile, then walking to Phaplu for an extravagant lunch in a lodge.As it turned out, Rave wasn't feeling 100% (we think she didn't want to walk far!) So we made fried egg sandwiches at our house instead. The cake turned out pretty good- but the icing was more yak butter than sweet.

As it turns out there is another festival on Wednesday, so most kids won't be in school anyway- they will be walking to a temple a few hours away.

End of the School Week

Students start the school day by standing to attention in lines outside on the dusty field. They sing the Nepalese national anthem, then the little ones practice standing 'at ease' and 'at attention'. By Friday, Raven and I thought we had in the swing of things- then found Friday to be a short day. With school six days a week, it adds up to a 40 hour volunteer work week. (Am I a sucker or what?!) The principal came in today. I was wondering why there were no bandages on his face- then he let us know his tumor was removed from his chest, not his face. Another moment of Nepalese-English mix up.

Each day I am given a slip of paper and directed to different classes each block, to teach English. Sometimes I have a 'leisure block'. My favourite class is grade 9. They are talkative, intelligent and knowledgeable about their world. Most classes are quiet following any question. The students are too shy to speak up, and it appears that independent thought is not promoted. Military obedience is promoted within the school, and, I believe, in all schools in Nepal. Upon arriving in each class, the students rise to attention and greet Raven and I with a chorus of “Good Morning Miss”. This still takes me by surprise! I need a few moments for my brain to register that the students haven't sat down because they are waiting for my permission to! They also stand when it is their turn to read aloud or answer a question.

Jiwan, the senior teacher that assisted us in the first few days, stated that he thought his school was about 100 years behind North America. These photos are of the inside of the grade 7 class room. `

This classroom has a chalk board, but many of the others have a white board of the same size. There is no electricity, a tin roof, slatted wood walls and the rooms are empty of everything except benches and bench desks on an uneven dirt floor. The teacher has a bench desk with a chair. There are no supplies in the room, I have to carry my own white board pen from class to class, but I haven't been allotted any chalk yet. I am quite o.k. with that, because I hate the dry feel of chalk on my hands. I am not sure why the walls are half covered with newspaper, but we see this in peoples homes, as well. 

The staff toilet is pretty self explanatory....

Child Minding Practices

There seems to be a huge gulf between the norms of childcare 'best practices' in Canada and Nepal. The Nepalese kids have far less 'stuff' than we do at home. If you stepped in to the ground floor of the house we live in, you wouldn't be able to tell a child lived here. There are no toys to be seen. The 5 yr old, Soobaum has a tin that is kept in the kitchen. It is similar to a coffee tin with a re-useable plastic lid. The metal along the edges is sharp. It's a cross between a junk drawer and a toy chest. These are the items they let him play with:

1 pointy geometric compass

1 protractor

1 toy dinosaur

2 well used erasers

2 plastic pop out medicine dispensers (pills still in them)

2 pencil sharpeners

1 clapper

2 dice

1 ping pong ball

1 bouncy ball

assorted plastic caps and pieces

Now look closely at the photo:

These children are wielding a rather large knife, trying to isolate the sweet pith out of a sugar cane. Children are capable and able to engage in far 'riskier' behaviour than our overly protected western offspring. They play anywhere- along the trails and near drop offs over creeks. Unfortunately I have seen far to many razor blades left to rust on the ground.

These behaviours make sense, when you also see rock masons chipping rocks without safety glasses and people riding motorbikes without helmets. The message appears to be “take care of yourself”. These proud people don't blame others, large corporations, or the government if they spill hot tea on themselves, or get in to a traffic accident. There seems to be an individual onus to fix any problem you might be in.

Tuesday, first day of school:

Heath went to check in with the monastery, and Raven and I walked to the school. We had been told to show up at 9am, but we didn't receive our breakfast dhal baat until 9am, (language barrier!) so we left the house about 9:15. We got to where we thought the school was in half an hour- but it wasn't a school! We turned tail, asked a bunch of people, walked along a secondary pathway and finally found Mt Everest English School. When we arrived at the office, a few minutes late, both the principal and the VP were still on holiday! The teachers didn't seem to be in a huge rush to get to their classes. The grade 10 teacher adopted us for the day. He didn't seem to have any lessons planned for the day. He talked, then I shared some of the history of Canada (Raven thought I was pretty smart- she didn't know I knew as much as I did :), information about our family, and a typical school day at home. The teacher led us all outside into the sun, with what intention I don't know, but the kids looked bored and nothing was really happening so I asked if I could introduced a couple word games. These kids speak English fairly well, but are reluctant to talk and ask questions. The first day ended up being a half day.

Wednesday, second day of school:

An omen of a great day? Aama was making raksi (rice wine/whiskey) in the big boiler on the stove. It is made in a smaller vessel inside the big vat over the fire, with water heating in the top portion of the copper vat. This morning when I came downstairs I was greeted with tea AND the invitation for a bath! A bucket of hot water! Yay! The first hot water 'bath' since arriving! The technique? Stand over the toilet hole in the bathroom in flip flops and pour lovely hot water over your body countless times! Soap up and repeat.

After dhal baat Raven and I met the other teachers in the principal's office. The principal still wasn't there, but today I was told he had had an operation on his face. (A tumour was removed).The teachers receive old school accounting style books and we were instructed to write our names and the hours we will be teaching. (9:45- 3:45). Raven was asked if she wanted to teach her own class, but she declined. We received a grade 9 class, and were given little to no instruction, so I did what I do best during a school day- wing it. Halfway through the day another teacher gave me a slip of paper and told me to show up at different classes each 40 minute instruction block, to teach English. Raven followed me, bringing her math and spelling with her, as she needs to keep up with her studies too. When lunch time arrived we were shown to the canteen. Veggie momos, instant noodles or samosas were the selection. We chose a plate of momos for 30 rupees. Chia (tea) was 15- and it was the creamiest, most delicious tea I have ever had. I think is was slightly spiced, even though Nepalese tea isn't like the spicy Indian Chai.

I think I may be the only person to gain weight in Nepal! We eat a huge plate of carbs for 9 am breakfast and 7pm dinner. White rice with potato and cauliflower curry is our typical dhal baat in Salleri. We are eating less protein than in Kathmandu. For lunch we 'eat out', either eat deep fried samosas or white bread with yak butter and honey, or white bread with garlic, tomatoes and onions. Sometimes I eat carrots dipped in my precious peanut butter stash. 'Sugar bombs' are another tasty snack. I have no idea what they are made of, but we find them at the samosas place, a little corner shack where the woman makes them on the floor, and deep fries them over a kerosene stove.

Settling in in Salleri

  We’re finally settling in here in Salleri, acclimatizing to the cold, spending more time outside in the sun, and enjoying the latest festival, Tihar. As the Nepali equivalent of Diwali, the Festival of Lights, Tihar looks a lot like Christmas! Everyday becomes more colorful, with lights, candles, strings of flowers hung over the doorways. Every day has significance and certain rituals; the first day rice is offered to the crows, as messengers of death sent by the god Yama. Then dogs, cows, and bulls all receive tikas and strings of flowers around their necks. Last night, Wed, the third night, is when goddess Lakshmi visits all the houses that are suitably lit for her presence. In front of each doorstep, people had painted circles or pentagrams in vivid colors, with a line leading inside, some with little painted footsteps. Each one had candles and offerings of fruit, rice, incense and other treats. The children go door to door singing songs and receiving money. It‘s like a cross between Xmas and Halloween. There was a bit of a dance party in the square. There were men, then women, then both, then young girls, all performing amazing routines before the dancing spread to the gathered crowd. We were draped with scarves and swept up into the circle. It was the first frosty night here, so we were glad to warm up, dancing and laughing, then making a quick get-away as they broke out the raaksi, a hot wine that is definitely an acquired taste. The music played until after midnight, a very rare occasion in Nepal! Not surprisingly, things were pretty quiet around the square this morning…

  On Tuesday, Vincent and I were finally shown the monastery we are hoping to teach at. It was a great time to visit, as a senior lama was blessing the new stupa. We were given a dab of milk with a marigold flower, which you smear on your forehead and into your hair, then draped with the scarves reserved for celebrations and special events. The monk blessed a statue of the Buddha, and then three men carried it carefully up a ladder to its new home, gazing knowingly down from the recess in the top of the stupa. Incense was wafted, rice passed around, and as the lama chanted, we followed along, tossing grains of rice into the air, prayer flags and scarves dancing on the wind. Enveloped and entranced, it’s a day I won’t soon forget. We were invited into the monastery, painted with intricate scenes of Buddha, young and old, and the gods in all their manifestations. The artist invited us to visit another monastery he’s almost finished, about an hour’s walk away, back near the airport. The next day, on the way there, I put my camera down while I took off a layer, finally warm in the afternoon sun. After stuffing my vest into the pack, I hurried to catch up with Su, Raven, and Vincent, the 19 year old Dutch volunteer staying in the same home as us. After about 10 minutes, I realized I had left the camera behind! We quickly searched all of our bags before I started back, hoping I might find it where I’d left it…No such luck. The police station was just up the street, so I asked there first, hoping it might have been turned in. Still no luck.  I thought for a few minutes that they did have it, with all the ubiquitous and undecipherable head shaking, but they just thought I wanted to take their picture! I continued on, asking shopkeepers along the way, but judging by all the strange looks and non-committal responses, I can only imagine that they assumed I wanted to buy a camera. I eventually gave up and carried on to the monastery in Phaplu. What a treasure! Over 200 years old, it contains Tibetan stone tablets inscribed with Buddhist text, a complete set of Buddha’s writings, and another set translated into more accessible language. The artist also had some paintings on canvas for sale, but we don’t have $350, or a decent way to transport a painting back home. After watching a plane land on the dirt runway from the courtyard out back, we said our goodbyes and went in search of some lunch. Some trekkers had just flown in, and were checking into a hotel near the airport. We found as actual menu, complete with such delicacies as omelettes, spring rolls, and apple pie. Vincent is pretty broke, and Su was OK going back to the 10 rupee samosa shop in Salleri, but I was desperately craving some protein. I was more than prepared to spend 240 rupees ($3) on a cheese spring roll and a veg. omelette, so we parted ways. The dynamics of travelling alone instantly took effect, and the rest of the day was filled with conversations with a third grade teacher from Arizona, Alexis, and a few Nepali men back in Niia Bazaar. When travelling solo, you find companions and curious locals at every turn. I certainly don’t regret travelling as a family, but it was nice to make some connections, even if one was with a half-drunk 18 year old who was throwing the F bomb around like candy at a parade.

  On Friday, while Su and Raven spent some time at our favorite internet café, open again after the festival, I went to the police station to make a report for the lost camera, as per our expensive insurance. This is the first time in my life that I’ve gone to the police for help! It took a while, with lots of animated chatter in Nepalese, and a staticy radio call to headquarters. Eventually I just had to write out a statement of my stupidity, sign and date it, before they adorned it with a 10 rupee stamp, to make it official, I presume. Then they instructed me to return in a few days, so they could ‘search for it’. I’m not holding my breath, but will continue to manifest its return. At least the insurance should cover it, but I sure miss having a camera, and must send an extra thanks to Cathy for getting Raven her own camera before we left, because I’ve been using it a lot!

  Saturday’s market was much quieter, last week everyone was stocking up for Tihar. We went early to scoop up some yummy oranges, which get picked over quickly. We’ve been dreaming of the yak butter we saw last week, so Su got some of that, for even better buns and honey! Su couldn’t resist some fresh, crunchy carrots, while I had no luck finding firecrackers. The kids have been lighting them off constantly all week, throwing them up above their heads and shrieking with delight as they explode. Su talked me into buying a Buddha necklace that the locals wear, and I saw some Shiva and Ganesh stickers that I think will look great on the Blazer. Last but not least, I needed some pens, three of which have died in the last week! Later, on our way through Salleri, we found a new bakery with cakes, bread, and pizza. Whoo Hooooo, I exclaimed. We picked up some samosas, tomatoes, onions, garlic, bread and pizza, and had an impromptu picnic on a pile of rocks, finally in t-shirts with under the warm afternoon sun, stunning views of the mountains in the distance.

 

  Today, Sunday, was just a fantastic day! Vincent was heading to the health clinic in Chyalsa, and an English girl named Kate was also heading there with her guide. Su and I had been almost all the way there, on an exploratory wander the other day. The trail passes a stone outcrop that has been inscribed with Buddhist text, painted in the bright reds, blues and whites the Nepalese seem so fond of. It sits alone in a farmer’s field, surrounded by prayer flags. After another few hundred meters of elevation gain, there is an old monastery with incredible views of the mountains north of Salleri.

This is as far as Su and I had gone, but Chyalsa is not much further along a dusty path through the forest of pines, alders and rhododendron trees. At this elevation, Nepal reminds me a lot of BC. Chyalsa is a monastery and Tibetan refugee village. We stopped for a drink of Tang with the doctor, before he started the immunizations. I found a goat tied up around back, with a single black kid nibbling on fresh shoots of grass. Raven and I played with the goats for a while, letting them lick the salt off our hands and suckle our fingers. Kate and her guide, Kami, turned up just then. We started talking about a possible viewpoint for seeing Everest, and Kami suggested that it was less than an hour up to the top of the ridge. Vincent wanted to stay and assist the doctor, but the rest of us decided that since it was such a clear day, it would be worth the effort to hike up. Well, Raven took some convincing, but we set off with her grumbling behind about how we’ve ruined her life. We passed through some steep, dense forest, then out into an open heath, prayer flags marking the viewpoint above.

That's Everest peeking out from behind the two sharp peaks, left of center.


  I was worried that it might be cloudy near Everest, but there it was, behind the range of snowy mountains closest to us, but appearing just as tall. As an added bonus, it was so clear, we could see Kantchenjunga on the horizon, poking up over the distant hills. I’ve seen Kantchenjunga before, from Darjeeling, in India 15 years ago, but seeing the 1^st and 3^rd tallest peaks in the world at the same time was sublime. We took plenty of pictures, and then headed down the ridge a ways for lunch at a tiny little teahouse at the pass. Some of the best noodle soup that I’ve ever had! Ah, the simple pleasures…Raven’s mood lifted with the tea and soup, and we managed to get some pictures of all three of us together, squinty, but smiling contentedly. Today, we got to see Mt. Everest!

What is important?

Nov 16, Friday

One week in, not necessarily any easier.

Dreaming of heat. Like snakes, we leave the cold dark house during the day to find a quiet warm spot to sit and read in. My emotions are mixed. Being here bring so many questions. (“What the F*** are we doing?” specifically comes to mind). Self questioning. Inner reflection. We are fed, housed, and are a 20 walk from cheap wifi, but the western mind keeps wanting more. Our shared bedroom is small and cramped- we sleep on 2 single beds – but this keeps us warmer at night. The bed is against 2 walls, and there isn't enough room on the other sides to lay down a yoga mat. There is barely enough room for the mat in the hallway, pilates isn't very inviting this way!

The weather isn't that cold, but the dark house isn't in the sun until afternoon, so we feel colder than it is. (It might dip down to frost in the night, and once when it rained the higher hills had snow.) My lungs are fully buttered from the cooking smoke. I cough up enough for a seasoned smoker. I am having trouble with the inconsistencies of information. Everything that is said to us has to be taken with a grain of salt. I know this, so ask a questions few times hoping to get a constant answer, then am still surprised when it turns out not the way I was told. For instance, I was excited to start school today, I thought it was weird that school would open on the Friday, then be off for 3 more days....I came down this morning for tea (chia)- ready to START (doing something, feeling productive, having a routine). No one was around – the kitchen hearth was cold. How odd.

The family celebrated the last day Tihar yesterday, relatives arrived, marigolds were wreathed, tikkas were dotted on foreheads and delicious food was eaten (not for/by us, but I think sometimes we are treated as paying lodgers, not guests. That is part of my frustrations in this home stay). That explained the unusual sleeping in – then I was told there was no school. Aah. Language barrier strikes again.

What I love about this place is that it is smaller and quieter than Pepsi Cola. No barking dogs all the night long. And as soon as we step out our front door we have a lovely view of snowy Himalayas. I'm not ready yet to turn tail yet. We decided to give it 2 weeks before we decide on an return date. I want to experience the school here, and get a routine. This is especially true for Raven. She has been friendless in Salleri here (having another volunteer 19 yr old Vincent from Holland helps). At least she has been getting more schoolwork done!

Nov 17

Market day- we are actually living in Newa Bazar (new bazar) not Dorphu as we originally thought. Isn't learning a second language fun! I met a vendor from Tibet this morning- she invited us to her school tomorrow. She teaches there. Vincent was going to help give immunizations with the health outpost, so we will have a guide to get there. She invited us, so she could greet us 'properly\' to her home. We bought some large prayer flags from her. She said her passion was not teaching, she really wanted to be an airline hostess, but the Tibetian people can not get good jobs in Nepal- they are not citizens.

Attention, you have left the comfort zone

Welcome to Salleri!

A quote I took notice of before leaving: “Life begins at the end of the comfort zone”. We need to hold that close because we have left comfortable and dropped deep into the realm of uncomfortable. Even with our slow travel transition to the 'third world' and the rustic lifestyle we experienced trekking, our limits are being tested to a greater degree, as we are experiencing daily eye and throat burning woodsmoke, frigid coldness after the sun goes behind the mountains, no warm water, language barriers (Awkward!), breathlessness (from the elevation?),cramped quarters and lack of a physically comfortable (and warm) space to 'hang out' (read: be able to do yoga/pilates) in. I am also experiencing aimlessness, as I really wanted to start SOMETHING. I was looking forward to a meaningful experience volunteering in the school, but we have run into yet another holiday and won't be starting for a week or so.

Reader, please don't take this as complaining, but our first two days in Salleri have been an enormous reality check. The friendliness and kindness of the people, the internet 'cafe' (what do you call an internet place with no cafe?) as well as finding a German bakery and a huge jar of honey for 200 rupees ($2.50) have been strong positives. Oh, and my jar of peanut butter that I brought from Kathmandu. (the standard protein back up for vegetarian travellers!) I know that once we start in the school (and Heath the monastery) we'll have a routine and I will feel better. Perhaps not warmer, but better.

The House Description

This picture was taken from below the back of the house. There are 3 houses in the photo- ours being the middle one with the black vest hanging from the top floor. Our window is to the left of the vest, there are 2 other small rooms up here, and the other window lights the top of the stairs. The next floor down is where the family lives, and the stairwell goes up the left hand side. The whole house slopes towards the back- any water spilt on the floor runs downhill. I really hope an earthquake doesn't happen while anyone is in the house!

The floor with the laundry is the main kitchen/dining area. There is a narrow back room that runs the width of the building which is the washing/pantry area. Running water from a pipe inserted further up the river constantly runs into the sink (and out another pipe into the river at the right). The kitchen is wood and sparse, with both an open wood stove and a gas hotplate. There are 2 simple benches and 2

small narrow plank tables. The family spends most of their time in this dark space. It would be warm, but they leave their front door open, so there is a constant breeze running through. They have a larger dining table and room towards the front of the house, yet this seems rarely used. The rest of the front of the house is taken up by a shop, where they sell shoes and other items. This shop that fronts onto the main street is rarely busy, it seems they don't really need the income from it, as they own another shop or business in Salleri (we are actually living 20 mins south of Salleri in Dorphu). This picture was taken on market by by the front top window. The one of Heath shows the front door (with girl in doorway) behind him.

Thee floor beneath the kitchen seems carved out of the hillside. The open window lights the stairwell, and I think they use the other rooms for storage. There are only windows on this backside! One of the daughters bought a live chicken from the market, it is currently living under a basket in this area.

I wonder when chicken will be served? The bottom floor of the house is the craziest. The stairs continue downwards, through a hole in the floor, with a hatch-door, like a Wizard of Oz cellar door.



This is shut during the night, which makes it a little creepy for night time toilet visits. This is where the toilet is located, as well as access to the garden. The bathroom has water that trickles into a basin from another pipe/tube, and is complete with a pedestal toilet, where the plumbing also exits it's deposits with the water we add by a little bucket into the river. I am assuming the river. We never see TP or poop in the rivers (just piles of other garbage) so guessing it breaks down pretty fast? Glad we brought a water purifier! But I digress.

To get to the garden, in the photos you can see it is another place to hang wet hand-washed-in-cold water laundry, you open the door and find the only place for afternoon sun! Don't mistake the garden to be a flat area- Heath and I found a quiet place warm ourselves, but we are literally perched on the foundation of the house, and the neighbour intermittently lets off fire crackers to scare the birds. There is another ladder to get to the tiered garden. Fall is here, so most things have been harvested, but it is still bright with marigolds.

Return to Kathmandu and Flight Day

It was awesome to be reunited with our host family once we returned to Pepsi Cola, and we met a lively couple from Belgium who were also homestaying and volunteering in Pepsi Cola. Hot showers, running tap water, flushing toilets, 8am sweet tea and wifi at the VSN office was a luxury we didn’t take for granted. Raven appreciated 3 afternoons with her friends at the orphanage.

Some stress started to build, as we realized we were days away from the unknown and more primitive life of Salleri. Our free time will be curtailed as we begin our volunteer work. Money stress crept in, as

costs for things seem to keep rising, the Nepalese smile as they want their cut of something and vendors usually ask for more money than an object is worth, so a simple purchase is an exercise in bartering. We were informed that out $100 dollar local flight to Salleri is actually $130, and our visas need to be extended by Jan 8^th, which either means fly or walk back and do it ourselves, or for a generous 3000 rupees ($35) each, the VSN manager can do it for us. Supposedly the $3000 is only to bribe the visa officials, but we know everyone involved will take their cut. We trusted fate and left our passports with VSN in Kathmandu. We were worried a bit about not having enough money now for extras in our time in Salleri- the only bank machine in Pepsi Cola was out of order, but we figured we could change travellers cheques in the airport, or there was some talk about a bank in Salleri.

Nov 9th

The Flight

We had been told 3 different times for when our flight pick up was- 7:15am was the final agreed upon time. Our host family brought us tea at 7, while we were packing the last minute items, but then our ride arrived. We took a taxi with Oom-la- an adult daughter of our Salleri host family. We were swarmed by porters when we arrived in the parking lot. We didn’t need them, but somehow 4 men had all our bags on a cart and were careening towards the entrance. Gelu from VSN met us, as he needed to take our passports back for the visa extensions in January. Through security we went, the impromptu porters following us demanding “Tips!” “Tips!” Because we were at the domestic flight terminal there were no money changers and an additional 200 Rupee ($2.50) airport charge each. We got in line, if you could call it a line, a huge family before us, bags, boxes and packages stacked everywhere. We waited, eventually an airline staff took our tickets and passports, then stood around with them for the next hour or so before doing anything with them. We also stood for the next hour taking in the chaos. We couldn’t figure out why the line wasn’t moving. Oomla's English wasn’t very strong, so she couldn’t explain. She seemed nonplussed, talking on her cel phone and others waiting. It took a bit of deciphering to realize the family in front of us was going to a different destination, and it appeared Nepal Air needed to load that plane before checking us through. Two and a half hours we stood, a small bag of potato chips to share before we could check in and go through security. Heath snuck back outside to give Gelu our passports. The flight was to leave at 9:30, but in traditional Nepalese time, we didn’t even go through the gates until 10am. We started to get pretty hungry (our bodies are accustomed to eating a heavy dahl bhat breakfast at 9am) and hoped the family would greet us with food after our half an hour flight!

We boarded the 18-seater Twin Otter at 10:20. The flight was incredible. The weather wasn’t super clear, but the Himalayas poked their majestic heads above the clouds. We were hoping for a view of Everest, but couldn’t discern it. The co-pilot might of, as he took a huge camera out of his bag and pointed out a mountain to us. We were practically riding shotgun- first aisle behind the cockpit. The beautiful air hostess handed out candies and cotton balls for our ears at the beginning of the flight, then spent the rest of it seated at the back checking her hair in a hand mirror. We flew low enough to follow the valley and ridges- all of it spotted with terraced farms built on the hillsides over generations.

 

The landing

Picture a dirt and rock landing strip that ends of the edge of a cliff. That was us. Pretty daunting, but the pilots landed the craft using only half of the runway! After disembarking, we grabbed our bags from the ground and followed an older man who had Oomla's bags up the hill. There are no buildings at this airport! Security stopped us as the top of the stairs- a woman in uniform wanted our passports. The photocopies were good enough, she took our names and we continued. The Nepalese man we followed was to take us to our home- we had no idea how far that would be. Luckily we had built up our leg muscles trekking, and the route was downhill! We walked for about 40 minutes, ravenous and needing to use the toilet- this was the dirt main street, many stares and “Namaste” along the way. The man raced along at a great clip (he carried his packages in the typical fashion using the top of his head). Chickens, goats, small children. The road could be driveable by Landrovers and dirt bikes, but there was mainly pedestrians.

 

Trekking to Annapurna Base Camp

  Our first day of the trek to Annapurna Base Camp got off to a slow start. The festival of Dasain is the most celebrated in Nepal, includes the ritual slaughtering of goats as offerings to the gods, and plays havoc with an already haphazard transit system. We eventually arrived at the trailhead by noon, and started the steep climb up to Damphus, despite many levels of resistance from Raven. We had planned on making more distance our first day, but as we finally crested the top of the ridge, dark clouds were spilling over into the valley, visibility and temperature dropped instantly. We checked into a multistory ‘guesthouse’ just as the rain started hammering on the metal roofs. 

  The next morning’s clear blue sky provided sweeping views of  Annapurna II and IV, Machapuchare, and even a glimpse of Dauliguri, all around 7-8000 meters. We were all in great spirits, and made it to Landruk, further than we’d hoped. There had been lots of elevation change, up and over another ridge, but we had a shorter day the next day, which would give us plenty of time in the hot springs at Jhinu. Much busier than it was the last time I’d been here, but the pools right next to the Modi Khola river are  stunning, great for tired legs, and well worth the extra walk down to the bottom of the valley from the village. 

  We had a nice short day planned as a rest day for the fourth day, but first we had to make the challenging climb up to Chomrong. This wonderful village is a crossroads for the donkey trains delivering all manner of supplies to surrounding villages and teahouses, from Snickers bars and Pringles to propane tanks. This makes Chomrong the NYC of the Annapurna trek. Apple pie, black forest cake, WIFI and cheap beer make this place difficult to leave. After a revitalizing afternoon of laundry, carbs, liquid and literal sunshine, we slept well and set off early the next morning, eager to start gaining elevation toward ABC. We had settled in to a nice routine, resting, snacking, filtering water from snow-melt streams. Finishing in the early afternoon, then changing into warm layers, reading and doing homework while there was still light, ordering dinner for 6. Food was a lot more expensive than I remember, and with three hungry mouths to feed, our supply of rupees was dwindling quickly. We were always trying to maximize the calorie count, while keeping costs to a minimum. Eventually we caved, and splurged on fries, pizza, and a deep fried Snickers.

  The day after Chomrong we made it past our intended stop at Bamboo, an extra hour to Dovan. The valley is very steep and narrow by this point, and the sun had already dropped behind the mountains by the time we changed into our cold weather gear. We met a Dutch father and his two boys, aged 12 and 14, and played some cards with them later, to Raven’s delight…

  Each village/teahouse has a sign with approximate times to the surrounding villages, and even with breaks, we were right on the given times. Except Dovan to MBC. They had 3.5 hours total, but had forgotten a two hour section, so we ended up with a 5.5 hour day, gaining 1100 meters as we climbed up into the steep valley leading into the cirque of Annapurna Sanctuary. We didn’t eat enough for lunch, and with the cold wind that built in the afternoon shade, the day turned into 6 hours plus, and Raven was exhausted, and really cold by the time we tucked her under a pile of blankets at Machapuchare Base Camp. At over 11000 feet, altitude sickness is common, and can be dangerous, so we kept a close eye on her. It wasn’t until after dinner, when she finally had some fuel to generate body heat, that she perked up and took off a few layers.  She still wasn’t too interested in climbing any higher, even if it was only two hours up to ABC, at 4130 meters.

  After a big breakfast, much coercion, and a warm sunrise, we headed up for a full day and night basking in the majesty of the vast landscape of the high Himalaya. I’m glad for digital cameras, because I took so many pictures! We posed with Annapurna I, the first peak over 8000 meters ever climbed , added our prayer flags to the stupa, as an offering and thank you for a safe passage. I started getting nostalgic at this point, thinking of the amazing journey I’ve had over the last 15 years, struck by the fact that Su and Raven are the answer to so many of the questions I dwelt on as a wandering 25 year old. I’m so incredibly thankful to be able to return to such a powerful and influential place with my wife and daughter, together as a family, inspiring, nurturing, motivating, accepting and supporting one another. What more could you ask for?

  Only the shock of realizing how much ice has melted, at how far the glacier has retreated, could cast a shadow on this glorious achievement. The glacier is disappearing at an alarming rate. In another 15 years, I don’t think there’ll be much ice left. What I had taken as the sounds of the dynamic nature of this extreme environment, the creaking, groaning and cracking of the glacier as it slid downstream, was actually the sound of a glacier dying. The moraine towers over the rubble strewn sliver of ice remaining, the shallow tongue of snowfield doesn’t even reach the body of the glacier anymore. I knew the world was changing quickly, but this is frightening.

  Su and I left Raven snuggled up in bed as we watched the sunrise, the golden early morning light sliding down the impossible face of Annapurna and her smaller sisters.  At our usual 8:30 we started descending quickly, enjoying the increasing oxygen, but stopping to gaze back often, knowing I’ll never be back, not a third time. There are too many other amazing places to see, but I’m glad I was given the opportunity to revisit this one, as changed as Annapurna, but with a future that keeps expanding. We had hoped to catch up with the Dutch family, so were aiming for Bamboo, around 6 hours, I figured.  Eight hours later, we had dropped 1800 meters of elevation, and finally, our packs. I can hardly believe that I went four hours further back in 1997, from ABC to Chomrong in one day! We took two days this time, and none of us would have wanted to go any further. We had planned to go on, but my legs were pretty tired, so I knew Raven must have been really sore. The high point of this leg was spotting some monkeys munching away in the treetops. We watched for almost half an hour, taking lots of photos, and even some video. After over 2000 steps up to Chomrong, we stopped at the first ‘German Bakery’, where Raven had the password for the WIFI. Hot showers, email, and chocolate cake reinforced our decision to stay.

  Wanting to take a different route back, instead of retracing our steps the entire way, we climbed out of Chomrong, then down a steep, dusty and loose trail to the Kimrong Khola, a smallish river running through a massive flood plain. We asked a local farmer about the longevity of the bridge across while Raven was petting his horse, one of the little ‘logs with sod and grass on top’ variety, and the reply was ‘Yes we build a new one every year’.  We crossed over and continued up the other side of the valley on what was now obviously a seasonal and less maintained trail. After we reached the top of the ridge, it was an easy hour to Ghandruk for our last night before returning to traffic and tourist shops. Ghandruk is a magnificently medieval village, ancient looking stone houses with vibrant and productive gardens. We awoke to another bright blue sky, looking forward to one last day of trekking, and some hot showers and cold beer as a reward. After no more than an hour, we heard the unmistakable blast of a horn, the musical kind that the busses usually use to attract customers and warn pedestrians of imminent doom. Raven perked up ‘Is that a bus?!’ I tried to gloss over the obvious, hoping the road hadn’t reached Ghandruk. A few minutes later, sure enough, we came out onto a road, where several jeeps, and the bus where parked. The bus started to pull away, but then the ‘doorman’, who collects fares and entices potential passengers by calling out the destination, saw us and started yelling ‘Pokhara! Pokhara!’ The bus sqealled to a halt, the driver jumped out, and we started negotiating fares. Su and I didn’t really want to take the bus yet, but the prospect of hiking down a dusty, rutted road while dodging traffic and cattle, wasn’t so appealing. The look on Raven’s face let us know that there would be further consequences to not taking the bus, so for an extra 100 rupees, we spent an extra 3 hours bumping along the newly bulldozed road, trying not to be fearful of the steep drop down to the river, as we squealed and swerved around impossible switchbacks. The dust covered trekkers covering their faces as we roared past did little to ease the jarring ride, but we were smug looking out, packs on the floor, trekking poles retracted and tucked away. We even got to experience a Nepali drive-through car wash…Our bus joined another bus and a taxi, as well as several bathers and laundry scrubbers, in a shallow part of the river, where everyone was soaping up and cleaning an assortment of prized possessions.

  The return to motorcycles and moneychangers was even worse than I had expected. The incessant honking, the dust and exhaust, persistent salesmen determined to sell you Something ! We took a side road to a quiet café and stuffed ourselves with pizza and beer, triumphant and buzzed. After a full day in Pokhara, eating, shopping, emailing and lazing about, we took another epic bus ride back to Kathmandu, only breaking down once this time. We stopped for a quick lunch and another stop at the ATM, but it was nice to have somewhere else to go. We could ignore all the offers for ‘cheap hotel’ and ‘good trekking’ and just hop on a local bus to Pepsi Cola. After only 2 weeks, it still seemed like coming home. We had emailed to let our host family know we were on our way back, and the amma greeted us with smiles, questions and tea. There is a Belgian couple staying here now, so we had some more volunteers to trade stories with.

  Now we’re finally getting ready to fly to Salleri. We leave at 8:30 tomorrow morning. I was hoping for a slightly earlier flight, before the clouds obscure any potential views of Everest, which is only about 60 kms away as the crow flies. I’m looking forward to the incredible opportunity of spending 3 months in a monastery, but am anxious about the unknown. What will Salleri be like? Will our homestay be as comfortable and accommodating as this one has been? What will my teaching sessions be like? Will we have sporadic internet access, and roaming power outages like in Kathmandu? I’ve been trying for days to upload this blog, and pictures take forever, even if the internet doesn’t cut out. This is all part of the challenge of accepting the difference to get used to facing my vulnerability, and trust the good intentions and acceptance of the community.  Namaste in development and priorities, and appreciating the luxuries we take for granted at home.  I need.

We're back in Pokhara, safe and sound, and a few pounds lighter. Back in Kathmandu tomorrow...