I can't believe it's been two years since my trip to Nepal. I never had a chance to blog about the experience because blogging had not yet been popularized. Below is a mass email that I distributed to friends and family.
I have finally arrived in Kathmandu, Nepal. For those of you who don't know, I'm here doing some travel photography. I am staying with my friend, Paul, who I met at Georgetown in a class of mine. He now works for the State Department and is working in the Public Diplomacy Office at the US Embassy here in Kathmandu. Basically, when anything happens in Nepal and the US has to comment on it to the press, he's the one who puts out that statement and talks with the press.
As some of you may know, it took me three more days than expected to get to Kathmandu (KTM). I was schedule to fly from La Guardia to Chicago, Chicago to New Delhi. After missing my American Airlines flight to Delhi Wednesday night due to my delayed plane from La Guardia, I had to spend the night in Chicago, fly back to NYC and take a plane Friday night to Delhi on Continental. This sounds easy enough except that I had to wait in some God awful line for a few hours to get re-ticketed for my entire flight itinerary because the last leg of my trip included a third world carrier that doesn't know the concept of e-tickets. So after being in airports since 1 PM, I went to my hotel to sleep around 11 PM. Hungry, tired, defeated.
When I went back to the airport in the morning to fly back to NYC, I had the option of going to Delhi that night on American, but decided against it because they told me my baggage was probably on its way to La Guardia and I didn't want to travel without it. When I got to La Guardia, my bag was MIA and NO ONE at American knew where it was. Andrew and I spent HOURS on the phone trying to track it down. Some people at AA said it was still in Chicago heading to Delhi on AA and some said it had been taken to Continental and would be on my new flight. Continental said AA was lying and that they would never receive a bag from another airline. Ultimately, the only thing we could do was wait until I arrived in Delhi and only then could I file a claim for them to look for my bag IF it was missing. Why can't it be like UPS? You know every step of the way where your bag is!
On Friday night, I got to Newark Airport with plenty of time and checked in with a carry-on that contained the essentials in case my bag was not in Delhi when I arrived. I went to security and was flagged for a secondary inspection. I was literally HERDED into a sealed off area in the middle of security that was clear and walled in on three sides. Another passenger looked at me and gave me a sympathetic look, which prompted me to say "mooooo" out loud. He started cracking up. A positive way to start off the trip.
After an uneventful 14-hour flight to Delhi, I arrived around 8:30 PM in the customs area (mosquitos everywhere!) and, of course, I couldn't find my bag at baggage claim. Some airport worker saw me searching for it and asked, "what is your name?" I told him and he said. "come with me," and by some grace of Brahma, my bag was at the airport. After being shuffled across the baggage/custom area literally 5 times, I was escorted to a warehouse where there were 5 guys sitting around watching TV. I walked in with the airline rep (a very pretty girl who complained about how much she hated her job) and had to leave a cart with my belongings at the entrance of the warehouse. The whole time I was eyeing my cart nervously and wondering why I couldn't wait outside WITH my bags.
If you have ever lost luggage it is probably in New Delhi. The warehouse was about three stories high and PACKED with unclaimed luggage. The airline rep said some of the stuff had been there for years, and what I don't understand is why they just don't look up the names and addresses of these customers. I guess watching TV is more important than doing your job.
After finding my luggage, I had to sign out in this book. Very little here is put into computer systems. Then my found bag was taken to an x-ray and screened. Why? I just learned quickly to not ask why.
After getting my stuff (it took two hours and was now 10:30 PM), I found my very animated hotel driver who spoke no English but managed to tell me he had been waiting for two hours. He wouldn't let me do anything for myself and insisted on me waiting to get into the car as he pulled it out of the parking spot and then loaded my stuff in. He had some of that crazy but entertaining hip-hoppish Indian music on in the car and it was a smooth sail to the hotel. The staff at the hotel was very nice and my room was pretty pimp.
My hotel room
Smoky and hot in New Delhi: morning view from the 17th floor
I met my driver at the hotel entrance and we set off. He was a very nice man who told me all about his life and family and asked me if I was married and when I wanted kids.
Driving to Agra, where the Taj is located, is an interesting experience. On the one side you have the India of 5-star hotels, shopping complexes and palatial government buildings. On the other you have the India of beggars, grass "houses" and barefoot children running around in the dirt streets. And, of course, you always have the India of roaming cows---if intentionally killed, you will be jailed.
The trip would have been about 3 hours, but we were forced to stop for 10-15 minutes every hour or at a series of toll booths. Except these weren't toll booths you drove up to. The driver had to park the car, get out, wait in line and then pay a fee. At every stop, the driver would leave the car running with the doors locked, and me inside. People would come up to the car begging for money or selling trinkets and I would have to pretend not to see their faces pressed up against my window.
The view outside my car window
After a 4-hour drive to Agra and 1 hour lunch at a nice hotel, I met up with my tour guide who wore little or no deodorant in the 100 degree weather. Very nice and knowledgeable. After he found out I was a photographer, he showed me all of his favorite angles of the Taj and Agra Fort (also part of the tour) and instructed me on how to compose the pictures.
My tour guide's favorite camera angle
In front of the Taj Mahal
Beautiful detailing in the Taj Mahal's walls
Rabid mokeys at the Taj
Well, as we toured around the Taj Mahal (the most impressive and beautiful tomb I've every seen), I noticed that some Indian guys were following us around. Well that caught someone's attention because a woman came up to the tour guide and asked him in Hindi if I would take a photograph WITH her 2-year-old daughter. I said sure and pretty soon her entire family of ten people came in for a group shot. BAD IDEA. After that, there was a line of Indians waiting their turn to take a picture with me, most of them men and from the army, and the whole time my tour guide is juggling their cameras. After about 10 pictures, I said I had to go. This happened a couple of more times and the tour guide said that these people are mainly from rural areas and are obsessed with light skin (relative to them, I am PALE) and fascinated by Western dress.
Agra Fort was also beautiful and IMMENSE. It once housed a harem of 300 girls.
Me in front of Agra Fort
Remnants of Agra Fort's former beauty; people stole the gold detailing over the years
Three guys who were following me at Agra Fort
At around 6 PM, the driver and I started our trip back to Delhi and I got some much needed sleep. I awoke from my car nap about 20 or 30 mins before we arrived at the hotel. I spent the rest of the ride trying to figure out what I should tip the driver. He was so courteous and professional and had spent about 13 hours on this trip with me. I decided on $40, which seemed too little for me, but I had given the tour guide a $20 for a 4-hour tour, and he had seemed please with that amount. As I exited the car, I thanked the driver and handed him the $40 worth of rupees. I recounted the tale to Paul the next day because I was worried I had stiffed the driver, but he assured me that I had paid the driver a week's salary in tip. I guess I made his night.
Just when I thought the rest of my trip was going to be smooth sailing, another disaster struck, this time with money. Basically, there was a block on my debit card (although i had called the bank to tell them about my travel plans) and I had to pay with ALL my cash and the rest on my dad's card. It left me with about $17 to my name. In the morning, I finally got everything sorted out and left for the airport, but couldn't get money out of the hotel's ATM (no foreign cards allowed). The driver taking me to the airport felt so bad for me (I still had to pay for me Nepalese visa), he gave me 7 US dollars. He basically paid to drive me to the airport because I couldn't give him a tip. I told him that I would return to Delhi in a few weeks on a 7-hour layover and would do my best to get the money back to him.
So, I arrived at the airport and checked in for my Jet Airways flight. I was immediately directed to an x-ray machine where only my checked bags were screened. I hadn't checked the baggage requirements and apparently was only allowed TWENTY kilos although it was an international flight (passengers on the London-bound flight next to me were allowed 32 kilos) and my carry-on could only be SEVEN kilos. WHO EVER WEIGHS THE CARRY-ON?! Well apparently in the 3rd world they do. I had to take some stuff out of my carry-on, which hadn't been screened, and put it into my checked bags, which had already been screened. And people wonder how there are still plane hijackings. Well, my checked bags ended up weighing a killer 37 kilos and my carry-on was 15 kilos. They let the carry-on slide, but slammed me with a 64 rupee/extra kilo charge. Really it was only about $20 or so for the extra.
So, here I am ready to board my flight. Security is a hassle in the third world if you're a photographer. TSA screeners are Einsteins compared to the Indian army screeners. At least you can communicate with TSA screeners and most of them are nice. These Indian screeners are miserable people who hardly smile and are so arbitrary in their screening procedures. But you listen to them because they have machine guns. They gave me a hard time about my hand inspecting my film, but I finally convinced them not to put it through the x-ray. No tests for explosives here, they just passed it through to the other side (or maybe they put it through when I wasn't looking). I was flagged again for an inspection and the guy went through my things and came upon my tripod head that is shaped like an L and could be mistaken for a weapon. He looked at it and asked what it was. After a small demonstration, he let me go. At the gate, we were all screened AGAIN.
I almost died on the airplane to Kathmandu and I am NOT exaggerating. We were descending and it was kinda bumpy. Then the plane stopped bumping around as we started nearing the ground, and it started slowly tilting side to side, but nothing too scary. I thought to myself, this is strange. All of a sudden BAM, we dropped some 30 feet and the plane started tilting side to side, but this time worse. People screamed because it felt like we totally lost control. It was only about 10 seconds but it was really scary because we were so close to the ground. After the plane leveled out, everyone was looking around at each other just shocked and people were clapping when we landed. During that time I thought, "Oh my God, I'm gonna be on the news and part of that '3 Americans citizens were onboard' thing that no one pays attention to."
The pilot didn't even apologize or come out of the cockpit. Thanks for driving the Greyhound bus, a-hole.
Now that I think back on it, one thing was funny and that is that some old Indian guy screamed out "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" in a very thick, Indian accent (think Apu from the Simpsons).
I was in a state of shock as I deplaned, mostly because I thought I was going to die in that plane, and secondly because I couldn't believe I had finally arrived. A Nepali guy was waiting for me outside my gate and has some sort of connection with the US Embassy. He had money from Paul for my visa and I was escorted through the airport. I skipped the visa line, didn't need to take a picture for it and then had my bags quickly scanned through security. It pays to visit a diplomat.
From what I can tell, Kathmandu is an island in the Caribbean compared to Delhi. Lots more charm and cleaner looking. Paul's apartment is very nice. I get my own room and bathroom, there is a nice common area with internet, AC and TV and the apartment has its own water filtration system. We're a couple hundred feet from the Prime Minister's residence, so it's a pretty nice neighborhood and we even have a guard at the gate of the complex.
I'm staying in tonight to decompress. Tomorrow I will go out to explore the city. I will be in Kathmandu until April 19.
Much love and lots of besos to everyone,
Carol
P.S. I should also mention that Andrew (the boyfriend) and his father, good ol' Harold Bruce, fixed everything with my flights and hotels after my Chicago flight was delayed. Andrew also helped me sort out the bank situation. Best novio ever.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Nepal Trip - April 2, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment