Change.

We had really settled into the comfort and routine of Pepsi Cola. Heath seemed fairly bored of it, ready to get back on the road, I was ready for change, but Raven struggled against the idea of it, especially since Karen had arrived back from trekking. We celebrated Karen's 'homecoming' with another s'mores event on the roof top patio. The two of them are such junk food junkies- they come back from the shops laden down with sugary treats such as choco-pies, (wagon-wheel style snacks) custard cakes (similar but with custard in the middle) and traditional snacks of sweetness. They bought a big 'chocolate cookie' that was perhaps baked with flour and molasses which was as hard as a brick. It was too hard to eat and tasted like molasses, so we threw it off the roof of the house, trying to get it to smash on neighbour's brick and concrete wall. In the last few days in Pepsi Cola Raven crammed in as much school work as she could, Heath and I visited Patan again, this time skipping the zoo, in favour of wandering around the centuries old buildings and temples. We stopped for lunch in Heath's favourite bakery, indulging our taste buds with pizza and bakery goods. We took home some slices of chocolate cake to share. Heath calls me the 'Plastic Bag Nazi', as I continually try not to accept the thin small plastic bags that all the shop keepers put your purchases into. In Canada we can recycle them, but here they end up in garbage fires. Remember the picture of the cow in a previous blog that was grazing in a field of refuse? I can't accept being part of that mess. There is a movement afoot to ban these bags in Kathmandu, which I think is a great step, but I have seen little 'action' to this ideal.

                                             A sign in the school

I also took another walk to Boudhnath area in search of a geocache that was created by students of a nearby school, the Mahan Siddhartha High School. The principal invited me in for tea and a chat, as the students were on Winter Break. I think he was trolling for donations, but his school seemed quite excellent and worthy of international support. (Google it online- or look at the photo closer- it is on the name sign) When I left the school I wanted to go back a new way, but had no map on me, so I used the Bagmati River and the airport as landmarks. I came to an intersection with an old bridge over the river, a forested area and monkeys. There was an entrance to a small temple situated on a hill. I went through the gates and up, hoping for a better view as to where I needed to go. From the top of the hill I saw the smoke and temple tops of Pashupati (the cremation area we had visited months ago). I would have to walk through a forested area to get there. Being alone and female, I was concerned about my safety in the forest. Luckily I met some tourists who had just come from the site. They said the path was large and took only a few minutes, so I quickly walked through and arrived at the backside of the temples. A few cremations were taking place as I walked through. Bodies are wrapped tightly in sheets before they are incinerated. It is such an impressive and public event. Mostly men take part in this part of the funeral process. I am not sure where the women are. At home grieving perhaps. Last time we were here I noted that the hospice was located steps from the river. Morbidly convenient.

I was excited to be riding a fancy tourist bus to Chitwan. We purchased tickets last week, bartering to get a good price. We were assured that the bus left at 6:30 from Kantipath, (a busy road during the day, and the busy Tourist Bus stop in the early morning hours) so we had to arrive by 6am. That meant a 5am wake up and a 5:30 taxi. Kumari kindly brought us milk tea at 5am. They gave us a lovely Buddhist farewell, placing ivory coloured ceremonial scarves around our necks to bless our travels. We exchanged huge hugs and I had tears welling in my eyes when Kumari told Raven “I love you”.

The taxi extorted a hefty fee from us, complaining that he had to get up early and then drive back to Pepsi Cola with out a fare. Mahesh had arranged the driver the night before, so I was a little peeved that he hadn't negotiated a price over the phone for us before the guy showed up and had our bags strapped to his roof rack. Oh well, what can you do? It was much nicer and a little cheaper than spending the night in Thamel. We ate our last dhal baat dinner with the family and Karen, then went to bed early, ensuring that our final pack up in the morning consisted only of toothbrushes and Pjs.

As things turn out, we were one half hour ahead of schedule. The bus was to leave at 7am. We got on the big roomy bus and settled in, snuggled up with our blankets against the chilly morning air. Ten minutes later, we were told to get off the bus, as it sounded like it wasn't going to be full, so the bus line was to bring a smaller bus. Now we waited on the sidewalk, hawkers passing by with baked goodies, packaged convenience food, juice and bottled water. We purchased more sweet milk tea to drink. It is sold in these impossibly thin tiny plastic cups. I have no idea how the plastic doesn't melt through, as chia is always served boiling hot. 

                                                                                                assume the long bus ride position

                                                                                                               

Our bus got downsized, and Heath's knees now pressed against the seat in front of him. As we drove off, I saw the other bus was still travelling towards Chitwan and it didn't appear full. I wonder if we were chosen to be downsized because of my bartering? I seem to remember the travel agent saying something like “You're making me trouble” when I refused to pay more than R500 per seat...

Smaller and less comfortable, we pulled out into the convoy of Tourist Buses heading Southeast out of Kathmandu. Because of the wait for the 

 bus switch, we were now travelling at the end of the line of buses. Once we left the city and started driving the windy and hilly highway, we got stuck in traffic as a convoy of trucks were heading in the opposite direction and sometimes only one vehicle could pass at a time. Regardless, we made it in fairly good time to our destination. Our first pee stop was classic- a side of the road black tarp communal toilet. When I entered the door (black tarp flap) I was met by a  sloping concrete slab with a gutter in it. About 4 or 5 women could use it at the same time, and it thankfully wasn't used for solid matter,        as      there was no running water in this location. You   can guess the smell wasn't very nice. Another pee stop was the side of the highway- everyone running in to their little patch of forest to do their business. Raven came back from that one with countless burrs attached to her pants.

Our lunch stop was nicer, a tourist food stop- you could select a plate of fresh, pre-cooked veggie fried rice, chow mien, or pakoras for the 25 minute stop. Running water, privacy and sinks           pee stop

with soap in the toilet area! Every place the bus
stops enroute, hawkers try to sell fruit, water, chips or candy outside the windows. Some have no qualms coming aboard to do the same. Sometimes beggars also try to board the buses, but the bus jockey usually ushers them off in a hurry. When we arrived in Chitwan probably 15 jeep drivers from local hotels wanting our business surrounded us, clamoring for us to take their jeep. It was insane. We put our backpacks on and huddled in a little circle, These men were yelling so loud that Heath and I couldn't even hear ourselves talk, to make a plan. Raven was amazing. She just stood there, not looking at them, not anxious or agitated, blocking their requests out. 

Stay Tuned for Incredible Jungle Adventure in our next blog!