Santa's Elephant

It was dark with only the stars and truck lights marking the edge of the road. Passing by all the mountain villages, I tried to keep my stomach calm. Back and forth, stop and go. The sight out the car window was beautiful - specks of light on the hill side were like a reflection of the skies bright stars. I thought, "What is Russia really doing in Nepal." Canada only has a consulate in Nepal, just like Cambodia so what is Russia doing with an Embassy? Not sure, but I was definitely riding in a Russian diplomatic vehicle traveling from my road side hitchhike spot to Kathmandu.

The bus ride from the beautiful Pokhara left at 7:30am. I leave behind great, warm memories of this town. I rented bike and rode to the temple, ate at a Canadian restaurant (lame highlight, but really comforting for me), wandered around the street festival, biked to the top of a hill, called mom, and of course, went paragliding to the height of 2200m. So much fun. Despite the color of my skin turning even whiter than normal, I had the most incredible view of mountains, lake, and eagles by our side.

By the time we had to leave (myself and two English folk), I was full of calming adventure. So when we left for Kathmandu, we had no idea that a tragic event occurring 2 weeks ago would have us in a new adventure. At 10am, the people of a small village blocked the 24-hour highway leaving a 10km parking lot, in each direction. The tragedy is when a truck driver injured two motorcyclists and instead of leaving it at that, the driver reversed with intent to kill. The driver was successful, drove off, and left the bodies and the scene. No wonder there's an outcry. Most of the people in the parking lot did not mind. I did. No way was I going to stay on the bus overnight; it may not be Canada but Nepal is still cold and not so safe when you are labeled a tourist. So, I and three others walked. After already walking 6km, I started walking with my pack to the road block, snuck around it, past the riot police and huge crowd, and crossed to the other side. Now 5pm, we had another 6km to the nearest spot to intercept a mini bus or taxi back to Kathmandu. Things were getting a little dicey with crowds and price and general hunger but to our luck, two young Russians in a diplomatic car stopped. We asked them for a ride, paying any price. He said yes and we jumped in and tried to get out of there as fast as we could see the crowd starting to form around the 'White means the White' luck. We got away. Whew.

The bus did eventually start moving by 10pm and made it back to Kathmandu at 1:30am.

Am I Spinning?

First Cambodia's illegal land grabs, then Nepal's bridge, now Pakistan's female democratic opposition leader? My head is spinning with news from around the world...but yes, I had a fantastic Christmas (which will be in my next post).

Cambodia
I have learned about some of the land grabbing that the government is turning a blind eye to and that corporations are taking advantage of. It is illegal, according to Cambodian law, however there does not seem to be a body that monitors land activity among the poor. Working men leaving their homes for work each day (just like Canada) and leaving the women and children to defend their homes from bulldozers. My friend Lee with Licadho Canada has been standing on the strike line for a couple months (yeah, 2 whole months if not longer), standing beside the locals searching for a peaceful resolution. For Lee, Cambodia, and Licadho, Christmas was not peaceful. We need a government presence in a country where CIDA and dozens of other Canadian agencies and organizations drop millions of dollars doing a whole lot of nothing. Why do we give a country so much money when there is no embassy or even trusted consulate?

Nepal's Bridge
It was a time of full moon celebration. The 24th is with immediate family and the next day is with community and other relatives. The bridge was a route to the temple for offering of this celebration - no different than visiting the church for Christmas Eve or day. Although I taking in the celebration of the Nepalese festivities, I was not close to the bridge that collapsed.

Pakistan
I am completely shocked, but not really. As it has been happening for centuries, a outspoken woman who defends her country in democracy, takes her last breath after delivery a message of hope and a new outlook for the Pakistan people. As the multitude of responses flow into media headlines I think of how too late the effort is. From United States to Canada to any country in Europe, here's my question, "What do you really care?". Or is the question, "Why should developed countries care. As For women who speak out and individuals who stand for injustice, it has already been centuries of struggle. Now that the extremists are freaking out, they resort to what they know best. Murder.

The Swim
Aside from the world, could we truly lived in a society where the people lifted one another to a higher place instead of trying to beat one another to be first in line, to get the highest pay, to have the fastest car or the biggest house? Well, Canada, we have a lot of work to do. Maybe we can be leaders for a change...or maybe I just need a break from Asia.

Hard to imagine but my Christmas was a blast and I am still enjoying it. I have in Pokhara for another day and then back to Kathmandu where I will have more time to write about my past week.

The Christmas Frenzy

Before I start this ramble, I just wanted to follow up on my poop story. Only because the following day offered a new number-one experience with my travels and my pooh. The former number one was the Western Ghats, India and was a good story at that. However, with being pushed to the number two spot, congratulations Nepal, you are now at number one. Ahem...to keep whatever dignity I have left, I will keep this one in the closet for a while.

So, while all the westerners are frantically finding the perfect gift that will gain approval from a friend, daughter, son, father, mother, brother, sister, and whatever, I am enjoying the quiet walks around some of the most ancient grounds of Kathmandu. It's funny to think that back home, this time of year is about finishing work so that we can have time, but not necessary with family, but for shopping. This is my number one reason for not being home during the holidays and because I spent my day like this:

I woke up with a phone call from Kristy (It is so nice to hear a voice from back home). I go up for breaki then try and gather my thoughts for the day (I sit and read and stare out the window). Then off to do laundry, Nepalese style - this means 2 hours of manually washing with mama (Rabindra's mom). I now have a fantastic new appreciation for my oma and what she had to endure with 8 kids on the farm in the 1950's and I will never complain about doing laundry at home again. After a lunch filling me with more rice, potatoes, some spinach thing, lentils, and hot water, I head out the door for my daily walk.

My daily walk is anywhere from 2km to 8km and this is what I experience:
1. Skinned goat head on the open butcher table.
2. Stray puppies and hundreds of dogs.
3. Oranges, bananas, and apples every 20ft.
4. Old men yelling at a younger lady who is simply listening and smiling.
5. The real life version of the old game frogger - dodge the traffic game.
6. Super old brick buildings with building stone layouts.
7. The communal gold fountain where the community retrieves water.
8. The sound of stove carving by dozens of stone carvers (ages 6-35); sounds like a factory.
9. The blue uniformed military men and women who direct traffic or sit and do nothing.
10. The thousands of plastic bags and packaging materials from good ol' China but influenced by Western visitors.

There's so much more and I will try and capture as much as I can. As for Christmas day? Not really sure. I will mostly likely be with foreign friends, have a beautiful turkey meal, drinking Carlsberg beer, and enjoying a good old fashioned gift exchange. Plus, opening my package from co-workers in Canada. Thanks team...I look forward to it.

I hope time preparing for Christmas is all about making sure everyone gets together safely and is warm. That seems to be the key over here.

What the Poop!

During my time at a camp near Bragg Creek, the evenings with staff were often spent sharing stories of daily events. Since we worked with adults requiring personal care, we always had some great stories about pooh, in all the different sizes and shapes and consistency. It was never a big deal and yes, this relates to this story, somewhere.

Today as a day of a pain - some of my own doing, some out of my control. I spent Friday night with 5 Nepalese men (all over 35) who have taken me into the family. Only because I'm special and keep saying that our skin is different but our blood is always red. Together we polished off a 1.5L bottle of whisky and ate some good old bar food - drumsticks, wings, ships and salsa and some odd chicken salad thing. We shared stories and talked politics, religion, and kick boxing. They sang Nepalese songs and I sand western songs. It was so much fun and funny that after 4 doubles, we were all able to understand one another despite language barriers.

My foreign friends eventually came and found me, a little drunk but super happy. I said goodnight to the new found brothers and went off to dance. Until 3 am I danced and had a great time. I even got a call from work...from Canada. I'm sure the ladies all a good laugh but my memory seems fuzzy on the call.

The next morning, I was ill. Head pain, ovary pain, tummy pain, memory pain but mostly, hangover pain. It took me an hour to get out of bed and get food into my tummy. As a traveler, and for most travelers, the 'runs' are expected and everyone seems to have that experience.

For me, I am sitting on a cafe toilet with my head pounding, waiting for something. For me, the pooh is like bricks passing down the exit tube and it's a little painful. So, I sit and wait and think warm gentle thought and hope the pooh takes its time because then it is at least tolerable. I had to chuckle at my self-inflicted pain colliding with my natural traveler pain. I, most of all, chuckled at how I needed to experience this in a third world country so that I could come home and appreciate my clean bathroom, flush toilet and hot water!

Beat the kid? What then.

Aside from the daily political protests, my daily street side snack, and nightly blackouts, not much is happening in Nepal. I got back from another tourist trap called Pokhara. And with the tourist season dwindling, the merchants and restaurants were starting to lower prices, which is nice. In and around the area are quiet hillsides, villages, and pollutant-free lakes (for the most part, it’s all about the fishing).

I took another long walk around the older part of Kathmandu called Patan. I was looking for a special handicraft store that supports women and social inclusion plus the prices show the store’s support for fair trade. It’s about a 45 minutes walk through old, new and rich streets. I even pass the Zoo! I have a hard enough time with the stray puppies so there is no way I am stepping foot into the Zoo.

I suppose, by western standards, I got lost but by Asian traveling standards, I was simply wondering. Regardless, I called Raby so that I could be set back on track and on my way to the store. I was close. I walked out of the café and headed south. As I walked past the communist party demonstration, I thought how cool it would be if a riot broke out. Just kidding – maybe another day. Then I saw the kids, again. Earlier, and the reason why I got myself off track, I scrambled to escape the little boys (ages 3, 5, and 10). The youngest one had jumped onto my legs, not to attack but as a desperate means to get my attention. He wanted money or food or something. As he wrapped his tiny little arms around my legs and held on like it was his last day alive, a rush of emotion and visions hit my heart and mind.

I saw him being pushed to the side by a tourist like the kid I saw getting shoved into the sand by a young man while traveling in Laos.
I saw the middle aged foreigner take money out and give it to the Nepal boy as a plea to escape humility or embarrassment – mostly hers and not the boy’s.
Then, I saw me, squatting down to meet his eyes. It’s not that the boy did not understand ‘No’. He pushed because he had heard it enough and was now fighting for a ‘yes’. I wanted to give him a big hug and tell him that he’d be okay but I knew how selfish it was to think and that I would be lying.

A store owner broke our gaze, said something in Nepalese, and the kids were gone. I said, “thank you,” but the words felt so disillusioned. Now walking in the right direction, I see the boys again. My first reaction was to dart across the street and fix my eyes straight ahead. Instead, I headed for the boys. This time, the boy was with mom and wanted nothing to do with me. Of course, why would he need me? I certainly do not have any right to expect the boy to want to talk to me because I exist only when he needs me to exist. So I had to agree with the boy - screw you, world.

Birthday Memories

I was not sure of what to expect for a Nepalese birthday. It was just like home. Ramita and Rabindra made chicken drumstick, fried potato fingers, rice and some other chicken thing then I had a birthday cake!!! With candles!!! So excited and a little overwhelmed, the kids sat around and Mama (Rabindra’s mom) led the Happy Birthday song. It was the most heart touching thing. Mama and I, despite our language barrier (we play sharades with everything), share nothing but laughter and spend most of our time with the four kids - Patrike, 9, Palista, 4, and the other two, 9 and 14 months. I still can not pronounce their names, let alone try and spell it.

Birthday aside, I have mostly been working on this outdoor school project. There is so much to learn and so many people to meet that I’m usually ready for bed by 7. I have already met a handful of the wealthiest Nepalese (excluding NGO’s and government officials) and discovering the true Nepalese life. I live with the family in Gwarko Village – the village is separated from Kathmandu by a road so it may appear who it sounds.

Each day I walk about 20 minutes to the centre of Patan, the world heritage sight of the most beautiful, live-in structures I have ever seen. The three foot wide alley ways, the 4 foot high doors, the wood carved temples, homes, and random structures. I sat in a café and took a photo out my window. Surrounded by western lifestyles and tourist wealth, the people here place little interest in the mountains other than their 33 million gods...and for most, the Internet is just another god. I feel that tourists forget that they are in a third world country. The money that comes from tourism goes only to the wealthy like government – international funds seem to solely go to the UN, or other international Aid agencies who cash in from the World Bank. It would be ironic to think that the average Nepalese in the mid-upper class has more money in the bank than the average mid-upper class Canadian or American. Ironic and true.

My walk throughout Patan offers the radical images of poverty, happiness, and simplicity. A skinned goat’s head on the butcher’s window, the baby taking a poop in the street, the dogs taking claim to territory, the WWF posters and swimsuit girls, the nine year old carving stone for the local hotel, the tiny kid riding a 21” bike, and of course, the beautiful smiles from all the kids I pass.

So next week, I am off to visit Pokhara and Chitwan about 200km west of Kathmandu. I am excited to get out of the city again and back into the natural world.

To Joe:
Hey Joe, I met one of the bosses for Nepal tourism and he is offering me all the resources they have developed regarding eco-tourism and sustainable village tourism. I am for sure having a blast meeting some of the most locally influential people in Nepal. I leave this weekend to meet the location of our water activities (canoe lessons) and to the Jungle for Forest Projects. Fun fun!
Cheers,
Carly