Nepal In Retrospect

Nepal In Retrospect

I took the six-hour bus ride from Pokhara back to Katmandu to prepare for departure. My five months in Nepal had come to an end. Five months is all Americans are allowed with a tourist visa. With the India border blockade leading to the fuel shortage on and squeezing momentum out of ‘progress’, it’s just a good idea to get closer to the airport because I might have to walk. I pulled back into the Holy Himalaya for a couple days and have a solid look at the places, people and animals I was fortunate enough to experience.

It seems like just yesterday I arrived in Nepal for the first time and was awestruck by the cultural and historical treasures of the three kingdoms that now make up the city of Katmandu. I hired a motorbike taxi and visited the Monkey Temple and the three squares and I took stacks of photos. Wandering the streets in Thamel became second nature and always crowded with tourists coming and going to the Himalayas or into Chitwan National Park. I chose a flight less traveled and bounced to Nepalgunj and Bardia National Park for a look in the jungle.

I ended up trekking in a virtually untouched area of the park with no other people around besides National Park patrols. Apparently permits have been difficult to acquire in the past but we managed to get two separate permits and took advantage of them. Tragedy struck with the first earthquake. Even in the west of Nepal, Thakadurwara, I felt the earth move. I moved on by bus to Chitwan where I ran into Rhino, Elephant, Crocodiles, Garials, and a plethora of deer and wild boar. It was a short visit but worth it.

I bused up to Pokhara where I volunteered with Hands Helping Hands and helped feed families in devastated outlying regions. I had to see Katmandu for myself so I took a taxi there with a full car of drinking water. All along the road there are still signs of the destruction. Katmandu was at a stand still with brick, wood and rubble filling the narrow streets, limited clean up and refugees filling the parks with makeshift tarp tents. Working facilities were non-existent and the smell of death hung in the air.

I was on the 3^rd floor of a hotel in Pokhara when the second earthquake hit. People remained sleeping in the car park for fear of more. After-shocks and mild earthquakes continued on into double digits with avalanches striking the Himalayas taking out trekkers. Tourists evacuated the country and for the most part have remained away for now.

I blasted off to England, Scotland, Ireland, France, Spain, and Portugal, and returned to Nepal after two months in Europe for my last three months of the year in Nepal. As I arrived, Banda (Government strike of all automobiles) was in effect and made travel difficult. I returned to Thakadurwara to help with a new dining hall at www.wildtrakadventure.com for a couple months of serious heat. At the end Johnny Sparshatt and I headed for Shey Phoksundo National Park and lower Dolpa region. It was nice to be with the locals and hear their stories of life.

We ended up in Jumla and the end was near for me. A few days in Katmandu was all I had left. At Sam’s Bar an Austrian acquaintance left me with a wonderful woman teaching teachers in a small rural area to the south east of Katmandu. She is quite the traveller and I was taken by her knowledge. I’m now curious to go see what she’s up to next time I come to Nepal.

There were so many pictures to chose from I had to leave a lot out. Another way someday.

I hope Nepal finds peace.

www.davidcdagley.com

Fuel and Festival, Nepal

Katmandu and Pokhara Fuel and Festival

When I flew back to Katmandu I didn’t realize what the border blockade by India had actually done until I tried to catch a cab for 500-700 Rupee. The taxi driver said 2000 rupee. While I waited for my bag I spoke with Dr. Ajit George Kuruvilla, a consultant Obstetrician and Gynecologist from Manchester who had been out in the Himalayas doing volunteer work and was finished for now. We spoke of the lack of proper medicine and doctors in the mountain region. He agreed and considering all the negative elements to Nepal’s recent past, it wasn’t going to get any better until the political situation changes. I grabbed my bag and wished him well. Had it been earlier in the evening I would have walked the hour and one half but it was dark and getting late. I took that cab to the Holy Himalaya and pulled in for a couple nights of an awesome hotel at the edge of Thamel. The hotel came highly recommended by a Scottish friend I met at the Strand Hotel in Rangoon, Burma. He’s the same man that introduced me to Bardia National Park and Wild Trak Adventure.

The reason I was in Katmandu was to come see and show my support for the first Gharana Music Festival founded and directed by Dan Linden. www.gharanamusicfoundation.org. I had met Dan and his wife previously and instantly new this was going to be something out of the ordinary. I was not disappointed.

The Gharana Music Festival ran from October 8^th – 11^th with concerts starting in the evenings and after the first night various workshops were offered to students and music enthusiasts regardless of musical level. There was even a didgeridoo workshop offered and I heard that it was a really enjoyable workshop run by Salil Subedi.

One of the festival musicians had plane issues and couldn’t make it so the other musicians gladly filled the time slots and all ran smoothly. This was mainly a classical guitar festival playing scores of various composers of predominantly Hispanic roots but when they all got together on stage they played the Beatles. That was fun. Rupert Boyd - classical guitar, Ana Marie Rosado – classical guitar, the multi-talented Mr. Brendan Evans – Flamenco and classical, and Paul Cesarcyzyk – classical. They mixed it up playing solos, duets, and of course a quartet. Brendan had a few days after the show to look around and on one particular night took to the stage with the existing band and threw down. It was good to plug-in, it had been a while.

The venue was at the glamorous Yak and Yeti Hotel in Katmandu, one of their many leasable halls. At the intermission guests walked through French doors to a spacious lawn with food and beverages offered. For me being in Nepal for 4 months of earthquakes, Banda, new constitution, political unrest, border closure brought on by India, fuel shortage, this festival was exactly what I needed to show me a ‘diamond in the rough’.

I have a certain amount of magnetism towards Sam's Bar in the evenings for many reasons, the mixture of Nepali and foreigners, the cold beer, the conversations, the service, but most of all is to sit at the bar and hangout with V. She is a class act all by her self and worth the visit. I learn from her experiences over the last decade. She's rich in personality and information.

I took a bus 6 hours to Pokhara and pulled into the Lotus Hotel where I felt the second big earthquake a few months back. Pokhara is a lake town surrounded by snow capped peaks and offering hang gliding, zip lining, boating, hiking, biking, motorbike rentals, and of course the gate way to trekking Annapurna and the Himalayas.

I came to write, relax and take it all in. I hadn’t yet experienced the fuel shortage except for the taxi ride to my hotel but arriving in Pokhara it was a different feeling all together. There is a festival on called Dashain, a ten-day festival involving family ties and getting to them. As I came in on the bus there were hundreds of motorbikes on the sidewalk all pointed at the petrol station. Then I noticed two rows of cars at the edge of the road. The cars were backed up for a kilometer and had been there for two days.

When I went out to eat certain items were off the menu because they didn’t have any fuel for cooking let alone any more cooking oil both of which come through India. With Dashain in full swing people stuffed the buses and many rode on the roof. I felt a slight urgency in their patience.

I asked a friend to give me a ride to the Penguin Public Swimming pool and when we got there the attendant said they drained it for winter. I took a walk down lakeside to the dam side and had lunch in a quaint little restaurant called, ‘Don’t Pass By Restaurant.’ The restaurant is on the edge of the lake and in the shade of umbrellas and trees giving it a peaceful setting. I recommend an order of Momo and Tea Masala.

I was curious about the fuel shortage so I went out wandering through 5 different gas stations and they all looked the same with hordes of motorbikes and cars and tour buses and cross country buses waiting for fuel for their return trips. Down a rubble alley I notice children on a large bamboo structured swing. The boy was swinging 20 feet in the air or more. I learned that this was part of Dashain and the children participate by swinging and flying kites. Considering the state of the nation the Nepali children wear smiles shamelessly and are a genuine happy lot.

Two men drove by on a motorbike with a goat straddling the bike. Odd. Across the street a sheep is standing on the roof of a bus full of people. Another bus goes in the other direction with two goats on the roof. For Dashain the traditional family meal is a goat or sheep, similar to Americans having Turkey/Ham/Duck for Thanksgiving. I became fascinated on the goat transport business and the swings. When I walked passed the pens where the goats were held people were inspecting goats for purchase. Some other pens had sheep and there were as many people there inspecting as well, nose, mouth, eyes, ears, tail and under it. An auger with a trailer pulled up and they loaded six goats in the back and off the auger went back up the hill.

There are very few tourists in Nepal these days. Walking down Lakeview in the evening there are very few cars, motorbikes or people. Stores are having a hard time keeping their doors open and paying bills. Scheduled and unscheduled power outages continue daily. Below the Monsoon Restaurant workers cook over an open fire because they have no fuel. Smoke drifts out of the parking garage.

Happy Dashain

www.davidcdagley.com

Kaigaon To Jumla

 Dunai To Jumla: Kaigaon to Jumla

Kaigaon is at 2650 meters and the pass where we wanted to stay the night was at 3907 meters on our GPS, basically today was all about the 4000 feet climb. We left and could see a hillside village a couple hours ahead and hoped we could get some tea there before we got into the steeper section. We could see parts of the trail way up ahead and it didn’t look so bad. We pulled in for tea and had a quick look around. The children were all headed off to school in their uniforms for final exams and cast irons were loaded with smoldering coal set on rock walls heating up for work shirts and pants. It was early.

Again we could see where we were going to eat lunch oh so far ahead in and out of a massive ravine with smaller ravines in it. Again the walk seemed more gradual than I expected. The sun was beginning to heat up the mountainside. By 1130 we had put down our packs and ordered up some noodles and tea in a multi colored tarpaulin structure overlooking the valley we had just climbed up. The lady running it was great and gave a heads-up that around the corner it gets right dangerous. The trail had been erased in a landslide and that there was a new trail cut in that dropped 1000 meters and then came straight back up. This was one of the two danger spots we had heard of in the past by porters coming from Jumla.

After taking some photos of old Tibetan stone carved writings, prayer flags, and views we ate quickly and moved on down the path. We came around the bend and two men and a woman greeted us. In the background was a cliff with a long drop down. The trail looked almost too narrow to cross but the two men and woman came that way so we went on. Before crossing we dropped our bags and thought about it. We could see the new trail down below carving up the opposite mountainside and really weren’t in the mood to race down and crawl back out of this particular ditch. John went on without his pack and scouted the thin line. When he returned he said it’s not so bad and he and Pravesh both took their bags and crossed over. Krishna and I were less than pleased with the arrangement but in the end it was our only option. John and Pravesh scuttled back and offered to tale our bags and I for one agreed. Krishna said nothing but didn’t oppose the idea. We thought of the French group coming with horses and this was not an option for them, they would have to go down and back up again. What’s a little adrenaline rush on a trek in Nepal anyway, sounds just like any other day.

Our day was only about 15 kilometers long but the majority was up and slower going than the other days due to the pitch. The government or National Park folks had put in a new jeep trail but when we spoke with the locals they said take the old way because you won’t make Maure Lagna (3894 pass) before night fall. They also said there are a couple teahouses there that take in guests for the night. The trail abruptly went straight up switch-backing here and there but for the most part up the mountainside. We broke out of the trees and I could see the trail rounding a grassy outcrop and then another and there off in the distance was a ruin with two silhouetted men looking down at us. We straggled up the face of the mountain and joined them for a quick sit and conversation. They were headed the same way we were and would take one of the guest houses and we would take the other. There was bound to be a bit of a party. John got to talking with one of the men as we left and forgot his sunglasses. As we walked two single men walked in the opposite direction and then John realized what had happened and dropped his bag and raced back for his sunglasses. Gone in a flash.

We got to Maure Lagna and pulled into a teahouse at 3905 meters with goat meat and bones hanging from the rafters drying like jerky. All you needed was to add smoke. We had some tea and took sunset pictures for a while. When I asked where the toilet was the woman smiled at me and said waving her arm outward, “The whole world is a toilet.” After all I’ve seen I have to agree with her. I walked outside and looked around, there wasn’t anything but rock and grass with one outcrop down toward the spring. I didn’t want to look there.

Dal-baht and Roxy for dinner and a good night of conversation and smoke set the scene. The woman wanted to go with John back to England. He explained he lives in Thakadurwara and won’t be going that way for quite awhile. A few of the men from the other teahouse showed up inebriated and tried to dance but just about fell in the fire. They were told to sit down before they fell down. The whole teahouse was full of smoke and now I understood the hanging meat. There was a chimney but of inadequate size and we all tasted creosote all night. It was a cold and uncomfortable night on the floor for most of us including a 4 in the morning visitor calling for the woman that wasn’t staying there because we were. He went out discouraged and shuffled back to the other teahouse.

We woke even earlier and new this was close to our last day and with a major down hill on the morning menu. We wanted to get down the hill for all sorts of reasons one being a more private spot to take care of business. We could see mountains through the prayer flags that flank Jumla town and it seemed far away but considering we were all acclimated it was going to be a cinch. We headed off before the others in the teahouse got moving. When we got to the bottom of the ravine near the creek we took a break and a woman joined us who apparently had been walking since before we started. She sat with us and explained that she was afraid to walk alone because a man in a jeep was killed nearby and his ghost scared her.

John wasn’t feeling his best and we took a couple breaks and a long lunch to keep up his energy. Also the drop in elevation helped. For the most part the trail continued down river passing through small villages with students taking their final exams out in the yard because the rooms were too stuffy.

We continued down until it turned up a fork to cross our last and lowest pass, Gothichaur Lagna at 2995 meters. We realized we had broken the treks back and all the hard work was over. Gothichaur town is basically a large sheep research stationt where the Australians brought a 25,000 USD sheep here for breeding to add meat weight and wool to the existing sheep species. The valley was beautiful and the teahouse was barebones but I slept solid through out the night.

We were in Jumla by 1 pm and interested in a hot shower and anything but Dal-baht. I hadn't showered in 9 days. Mo-Mo was first on the list, a type of mutton dumpling but don't count on it being mutton, more likely buffalo. I needed cash and set out with a kid from the hotel and he showed me to an ATM but it was not in service. John did some looking around and found a back street investment bank that would do the debit for me and we were laughing. Our next door neighbor was buying Yatzegumba all night long from collectors. This way was legal and much safer, you just don’t get as much money but you also run limited risk deep in Nepal. We flew to Nepalgunj where the boys and I said our see you laters and I flew back to Katmandu. Extraordinary trip amongst the people with NO tourists but us and one Italian kid going the other way.

We are planning to do an Upper Dolpo Region trip next April so if any of you have even the slightest interest, get a hold of Johnny Sparshatt at www.wildtrakadventure.com. I think his email address and phone numbers are also listed on the sight. We may be doing a few trips into the Bardia National Park and possibly the Babie River area with camera traps next season. It’s worth every drop of sweat. What happens between now and then will be equally epic. Stay tuned.

www.davidcdagley.com