Nepal Trip: April 11, 2007

Below is the third email from 2007 Nepal trip:

I was in Thamel (the center of Kathmandu) on April 3, and got roped into a tour around the central square with two Nepali tour guides. They turned out to be very nice and we spent most of the morning walking around the city. They took me to see a living goddess, a 9-year-old girl who is actually considered a living deity. She lives in a house off the main square, gets treated like a princess, and people come and pay homage to her. Once she reaches adolescence, some holy people scour the land looking for the next goddess. They obviously made a mistake by overlooking Santa Clarita, CA.

Anyways, we were standing in the living goddess's courtyard and I asked if she ever came out to say hi. One of the tour guides stepped into the house and asked the servants if they would ask the living goddess to come to the window. The tour guide came out extremely excited and announced she would make an appearance. Well, the courtyard began buzzing with excitement and then she finally came out, this little girl with full makeup on her doll-like face. All she did was lean on the balcony and smile a little smugly, then she was gone in 5 seconds. A little anti-climactic.

After that, the tour guides took me to a temple where a holy man insisted on giving me a blessing after I took his picture. He rubbed some red and yellow paste on my forehead, muttered some prayers and then scooped up some water in this spoon and put it in my hand. I looked at the guides and they said, "drink it." Foreigners are NOT supposed to drink the tap water and probably the worst thing you can do is drink water that is sitting in a rusty cup and came from God knows where. So, I stared at this water in my hand and all I could think about was "I don't want to offend this holy man and/or be permanently cursed." I decided to take a tiny sip and let the rest fall off my hand and run down my face. Thankfully, I did not get sick, although my skin became irritated by the paste on my forehead, which was clearly not non-commodogenic.

Holy man in the temple in Durbar Square, Kathmandu

On Friday night, there was a party at the Marine Guard House at the embassy. The fun employees were there, and after that party ended, we headed to a club called "J Bar" which played surprisingly good music. I remember drinking some generous portions of Bailey's, and after returning to the apartment around 2 AM, I realized I had left my jacket at the club. (I returned the following Monday to inquire about my jacket and it was unsurprisingly gone. Thankfully, Andrew saved the day and found an identical jacket for me in NYC.)

Paul and I took a trip on Saturday to a town called Pokhara, west of Kathmandu and near the Himalayas. The drive is along a two-lane highway that goes along the side of mountains and is extremely dangerous. This is one of only two main highways leading out of Kathmandu. Paul convinced me it would be better to take a 30-minute flight on a small plane instead of driving. I reluctantly agreed.

Around 8 AM, we arrived at the domestic airport, which is just one big building divided into two parts. The baggage claim was in located outside and in front of the main building. It was just a fenced area with a tin roof. We went through the x-ray machines and then headed to the ticket counter, where the airline wrote us a ticket (yes, wrote it). We went though another security check, which was a quick pat down and a glimpse into my two bags. Finally we entered in the waiting area. Paul and I staked out a spot near our "gate." The "gate" was really a random door manned by a pretty girl in a purple sari who announced each flight departure with a megaphone. You had to listen carefully to her announcements because her English was so heavily accented that you could easily miss your flight. Paul and I must have gone up to her four or five times to ask if she had announced our Buddha Air flight. The airport was also my first experience with the squat toilets, you know, the ones with the hole in the ground. Awkward, just awkward.

Our flight was delayed and I started getting nervous. When the announcer finally called our flight number, we boarded a minibus that would take us to our plane. That's when the nerves REALLY kicked in, as I realized I would be flying on a small plane in the third world. Images of a plane crashing into a mountain kept coming to mind. The minibus made its way toward two awaiting planes, a newer one and an older one. Paul assured me that the American-made plane we would be traveling in was safe, and then he pointed to the new one and said, "See, it's got turned up wings, which means it was made in the last couple years." As luck would have it, we cruised right past the new one and parked next to the old one. Those who had luggage were asked to check a cart being pulled by the minibus to make sure their bag was there.

There were little stairs leading up to the plane and I had to crouch down really low to get to my seat. There were about 10 seats on each side of the plane and the seat in front of me was coming apart. I kinda freaked out on the takeoff, but the flight was surprisingly calm and we got a view of the Himalayas:

View of the Himalayas

Frightened as we hit a patch of turbulence

Everyone else seemingly calm

Happy to be on the ground in Pokhara

Pokhara is completely different than Kathmandu. First of all, it's pollution-free. Second, it's TINY, with only a few main roads. It borders a huge lake with stunning views of the Himalayas on a clear day. Paul and I checked into a hotel near the lake (a whopping $40/night with breakfast) and as we were unpacking, we heard a ruckus outside our window. We looked out and saw this enormous elephant leading a parade. We armed ourselves with cameras and took off to follow the parade, which was celebrating the Hindu New Year. I took a lot of pictures of the elephant, but eventually stopped because it started looking straight at me.

Is Carol safe from the elephant?

Nepali cow poses for Paul

We got some great pictures and it was a lot of fun. After awhile, Paul and I found a restaurant that served BEEF and we had a great peppered steak. Flies were swarming us as we feasted on our steak, so we didn't get to fully enjoy the experience because we had to keep waving our hands around to shoo away the flies. After lunch, we walked around the town, did some light shopping (I bought a pretty silver bracelet with a turquoise stone for 1200 rupees), got a massage, and eventually went to a late dinner at a quaint Tibetan restaurant. Paul and I ordered ordered buff (buffalo) and some interesting Tibetan beer made from millet and served hot. It had a unique flavor that I had never tasted. We got to bed around 11 PM.

Around 5 AM, we woke up and got a taxi to take us to Sarangkot, a lookout point with a view of the Himalayas. We had a mostly clear day and the sunrise was beautiful.

Sunrise in Pokhara

After a great breakfast and a quick nap, Paul and I rowed a boat across the lake (okay, Paul rowed and I clung to the sides of it, expecting a leak to spring up), and began a steep hike up an enormous mountain. I was not at all prepared for a hike because I had on jeans,and I immediately knew I would overheat:

Paul showing off the rowing skills he acquired in Tonga

Holding on for dear life

Overheating on the climb up to the World Peace Pagoda

About ¼ of the way up the mountain, we passed a group of Nepali girls. They said "hi" and stopped us. One of the girls grabbed my hand, stroked my arm and pointed at her cheek. She was talking about my skin color and as she walked away, she yelled out "beauty." I'm beginning to really like this place…

We finally reached the summit of the mountain (really just a huge hill) after a one hour climb, and arrived at the World Peace Pagoda. The pagoda featured some cool Buddha statues, especially one with Buddha in what looked like some swim trunks:

Buddha in swim trunks

On the climb down my legs began fatiguing and I got really light headed. In the boat I started feeling nauseous and Paul diagnosed me with dehydration. After a shower and some rest, I felt better but was starving and waited for Paul to get back from a scheduled shave. One of the hotel employees knocked on my door at 3 PM telling me our car to Kathmandu was ready. We wanted to get an early start because we didn't want to drive at night on the dangerous road and there was also an impending rainstorm. I went searching for Paul and found him sitting in a salon chair, getting a manicure, head massage and looking slightly disoriented. Apparently, he had opted for a deluxe shave instead of a regular one, and an hour and 15 minutes later, he was barely waking up from his massage. He had another 20 minutes to go and we still had to eat. Around 3:30, Paul finished his "shave" and we settled our bills, then headed to lunch at an Italian restaurant. We got on the road by 4:45 and drove towards the countryside, which was beautiful. About 45 minutes into the drive, it started POURING rain and then hailing lollipop-sized chunks of ice. Please note Paul's freshly shaven face in the video below:

The driver had to pull over several times because conditions were so dismal, and although the driver didn't seem to feel headlights and windshield wipers were necessary, we had to ask him to turn them on. When it stopped hailing, though there was still tons of rain and lightning bolts, the driver went about as if it were a clear day, passing buses on the opposite lane, even on blind corners. Paul assured me his driving skills were better than most third world drivers. Looking down at the pitch black gorge alongside our lane, I didn't feel any better. We made a stop in random town for about 15 minutes for a quick bathroom break and a stretch for our legs. It had stopped raining and was a beautiful, warm night out. We continued our journey to Kathmandu along the windy, treacherous two-lane highway, relaxing only when there was solid land on either side of the highway. At some point I decided that if we were going to die, it would be while I was asleep. I slept for a couple of hours and woke up just before we reached Kathmandu around 10 PM. Paul informed me that while I was sleeping, our car passed a bad accident.

I spent Monday (April 9) resting and organizing my pictures. Tuesday and today (Wednesday, April 11), I got up early to photograph some Tibetan monks I befriended last week. I went to the monastery where they live and photographed some adorable mini-monks, very young boys who have been sent here by their families. These people are so friendly and open, it's no wonder why the Chinese have been able to occupy their country with almost no physical resistance. I've been invited to join them for a picnic on Thursday.

At one point, I walked over to a table where a group of young boys was reading aloud. One boy was leading the recitation and the rest of the group was following along and repeating what the leader was reciting. The mini monks were adorable in their red cloaks and their high-pitched voices. While I was photographing them, things got a little rowdy as the recitation turned into a contest to see who could recite the loudest.

Too cute for words

Morning prayers

Samtenling Monastery in the morning

Reading Tibetan Scriptures
Copyright 2007, Carolina Guizar

Tuesday night, Paul and I went into the center of town for some pizza at my favorite restaurant in Kathmandu, Fire and Ice. On the way there, our cab driver pulled over on a dark corner and stopped the engine of the car. Paul and I looked at each other, very confused, and the driver turned around and put his pinky in the air. We asked him what was wrong and he just held his pinky up in the air. Was this a signal to some awaiting kidnappers that the foreigners were ready to be snatched? Then the driver said, "you no know what this means?" and threw open the door and ran out of the car. We were kinda freaked out and wondering what to do until we saw the driver unzip his jeans and start peeing on the opposite side of the road. It took him about a minute to finish. When you gotta go, you gotta go.