Chitwan National Park

26/11/2008
I left Kathmandu yesterday morning at 6.30 on a bus headed to Chitwan National Park. Looking at the map, it doesn’t seem all that far away, so when they tell you that it’s going to take five hours, you think they’re overshooting a bit so that you don’t get upset if they hit traffic or something.
Traffic was the least of our worries.
Before even leaving the city, our squeaky bus had stopped many times. The driver wanted tea. The driver wanted a banana. The diver had mail to deliver to his friends. Once we were out of the city, the decision was made to stop to allow the passengers to pee. I hadn’t really expected road-side facilities for such activities, but was surprised that those who had gotten off of the bus didn’t at least walk around a corner or sneak behind a bush. Hm.
We stopped for lunch in a little town full of chickens. The vendors were all selling fresh fish. I figure they had gotten them from the nearby river, but I’m not sure what we were expected to do with a little fish once paid for. They hadn’t been cleaned or cooked at all...
There was no warning when the bus left again. You just had to be lucky to be looking in the right direction to see it pulling away. Luckily, the fish weren’t all that appealing, so I had chosen to stick close to the bus, and was able to hop back on when I saw that the driver was ready. We carried on following the long, winding road for what felt like a really long time. The seat was surprisingly comfortable! The little neck pillow was positioned in exactly the right place unlike every other bus or plane I had spent such a long time on. I was able to doze off several times despite the sharp corners, sudden stops when goats were on the road, and the shrill horn that was blown at every other passing vehicle.
We made it out of the little mountains at a much lower altitude and drove through the hot jungle for a while. We saw a whole bunch of waterbuffalo grazing away in the fields and standing around in the river.
After nearly six hours, we were close to our destination! We were crossing the last bridge, and everyone was surprised when we stopped. Like just about everything else, the bridge was built with enough room for one lane even though there is traffic flowing in two directions. Peering out of our windows, we spotted a broken tractor in the middle of the bridge. We sat on the bus for at least half an hour while some of the locals stood around and looked at the tractor. At least we got to watch the waterbuffalo wander around...we even saw some camels!
Arriving at the hotel in the back of a pickup truck, I was greeted with a cold bottle of coke and a plan to immediately go for a canoe ride. It was hard to decide if I should bring my camera; I was really tempted to since the country was particularly beautiful, but I opted not to since we were going to be on the water and we would probably be getting wet.
Hopping out of the back of the pickup truck again, I went down to the water’s edge with the other volunteer, Fred, and our guide. We shared a big canoe with a handful of Japanese tourists. We saw lots of birds and two species of crocodiles. The crocodiles were snoozing in the sun on the banks of the river, and we boldly approached them, very quiet to not wake them up. Some were floating in the water, and we were able to pass within a few feet of where they were swimming. I was happy not to have my camera since one of the Japanese ladies was quite nervous and kept rocking the boat a lot.
Fred and I were guided through the jungle for about an hour, seeing many more birds, huge termite mounds, then we even crossed paths with a large herd of spotted deer. We ended up at the park’s elephant breeding center where about 20 elephants were feeding. Nearly half of those elephants had babies with them, and they were all behind a fence to keep the tourists away. One of the current attractions is a set of two-week old twins; apparently it is very rare for an elephant to have more than one baby at a time. They cautiously walked around their mother’s feet and practiced picking things up with their little trunks. Walking down the line of mothers, we spotted two particularly playful babies near the fence. It was nearing dusk and all the other tour groups were long gone. Our guide offered his walking stick to the two elephants through the fence and called to them. One came trotting right over where we were able to feel its bristly little back. With surprising strength, it was nearly able to pull the stick away, so our guide took it back, and stepped away from the fence. The elephant was determined to play with it, so clumsily climbed through the fence to play with us. Its little elephant friend was not far behind, and had soon worked its way through the fence as well. The second one was more intrigued by the smells on our hands and sleeves, and took great pleasure in tickling our palms with its trunk. At the call of their mothers, the elephants lumbered away. That was the best two dollar admission fee that I’ve ever paid!
We returned to the back of the waiting pickup truck and went to the hotel for dinner. The next morning we were awoken very early for the elephant safari. The tropical garden where we sat in the 30° heat the day before was foggy and chilly. We got right back onto the bumpy truck, and drove to the place where our safari would be starting from. We passed a whole bunch of elephants on the way, with their handlers perched on their necks drinking tea. Who has ever seen an elephant tea party? Pretty cool.
Only one tourist bus leaves the park every day, so we had to quickly pack our things and get on the bus at 9AM. If I ever go back, I’ll stay for longer than one night so that you at least have time to absorb all the amazing things that you are seeing (especially when you don’t bring your camera to visit the elephants!) More of the volunteers for the December group should be arriving within the next couple of days, so I’m sure I can find someone to tag along with.
I’m starting to get bored with staying in Thamel....especially without any shopping to do. The traffic and people are always exciting, but exciting for the same reasons every day. I’m glad that the volunteering is going to be starting soon, and I’ll have something to wake up for in the mornings.

21/11/2008

Pashupatinath

“Nepal’s most important Hindu temple stands on the banks for the holy Bagmati River on the Eastern fringes on Kathmandu. Pashupatinath is also one of the most important Shiva temples on the subcontinent and draws devotees and sadhus from all over India. Shiva is the destroyer and creator of the Hindu pantheon and is best known in his ‘terrible’ forms, particularly in Nepal as the cruel and destructive Bhairab, but he also has peaceful incarnations including those of Mahadev and Pashupati, the lord of beasts. As the shepard of both animals and humans, Pashupati shows Shiva’s most pleasant and creative side.

The Bagmati is a holy river, like Varanasi on the Ganges, Pashupatinath is a popular place to be cremated. The burning ghats (called Arya Ghats) immediately in front of the temple, north of the foot-bridges, are for cremations of royalty, though you’ll often see ritual bathing taking place in the river here. The six square cremation ghats just south of the bridges are for the common people and there is almost always a cremation going on here. The log fires are laid, the shrouded body lifted on top and the fire lit with remarkably little ceremony. It’s a powerful place to contemplate notions of death and mortality.”

Nothing that I could have read in any travel guide could have prepared me to witness a public cremation. Come to think of it, no amount of literature could prepare you for such an emotional ceremony. From the opposite bank of the holy river, I watched the family and friends as the body was prepared and as some men brought large logs onto the ghat, skilfully making it just the right size and shape to cradle the body over the flames. A young boy carried a large armful of grass bundles to the water’s edge and soaked them. The family hurriedly paced around the body which was wrapped in a white sheet on the ground. Kneeling at the head (or foot, I couldn’t really tell), each of the women uttered their last prayer and returned to standing in a broken semi-circle around the body. Struck with grief, many doubled over sobbing and had to leave the scene. Offerings of tattered flowers floated peacefully down the river (among other things like garbage and discarded shoes) and a single cow wandered lazily across the footbridge as the final preparations were made. Carried by four men, the body was placed on the pile of logs. It was covered with the bundles of grass and other offerings of incense and flowers. The face was revealed, and the fire was lit. I couldn’t bring myself to take many pictures, and I couldn’t even bare to stay very long to witness the deterioration of the body, nevermind the smell.

We walked past a handful of sadhus, each who were eager to have their picture taken. Little did I realise that once I had snapped a picture, they would expect rupees in return. It was well worth it! They had each elaborately painted their faces and bodies and keenly showed off their long beards and dreadlocks which likely hadn’t been cut in their lives.

Revisiting Bodhnath, I spotted many things that I hadn’t seen the first time around. We befriended two mini-monks (with the help of a couple of rupees) who were pleased to pose with us and tell us about their little lives. We also walked the inside circuit of the stupa where I had overlooked a collection of charming gardens. Plastic cups housed small flowers or colourful petals and were arranged around the ledges of each garden. What a pain that would be to set up and maintain everyday; there were hundreds of them! We then retreated to a mildly expensive Italian restaurant to enjoy some cheesy pizza and cold coke. What a morning! I’ve found that there’s the most hot water mid-afternoon. Today I enjoyed a selfishly long hot shower, and then relaxed in my new room for a while to prepare for an exciting evening. I soon sought refuge from my ridiculously stiff bed and clambered up to the rooftop to watch the sun set over the mountains. Kathmandu is really the city that never sleeps, which goes for the traffic too. As streetlights are being introduced into the city, nobody bothers to obey what the light suggests to keep the flow moving. In the taxi on our way to lunch, we became stuck in an intersection unable to move. The traffic is no more dense than you would expect in a city, but the vehicles are on every side of the street moving in whichever direction they feel like, which makes driving very inefficient. Cars, rickshaws, motorbikes, bicycles and pedestrians all moved into the large intersection from about six different directions at once. The poor traffic cop stood in the middle, waving his arms and feverishly blowing his whistle. Everyone literally sat around and watched each other, slowly moving into every inch of free space on the road and honking occasionally (because it really helps!). Working as a traffic cop here would be really depressing, because no matter how hard you try, your efforts don’t benefit anyone, and if anything, you would agitate the people with your shrill whistle. They should just get rid of the traffic lights and save power.

Nine-Storied Palace

Too bad the photo isn't great. Had to share anyways! I climbed to the top of this big palace! The stairwell was very rickety and steep, and by the time I got to the top for a view of the city, I was quite upset that they had confiscated my camera bag upon entering the museum.

Kumari Bahal

A sneaky view of the inside of the Kumari Bahal.

16/11/2008

A walking tour south from Thamel to Durbar Square took me all afternoon today. I probably should have taken advantage of the guide services that are readily available in the area. After coming back to my room and referring to my Lonely Planet guidebook, I realised the many things that I had overlooked in the excitement of the busy streets. Some of the highlights that I did see include the Mahendreswor Temple, Taleju Temple, Chyasin Dega and especially the Basantapur Durbar. Basantapur Durbar is a nine-storied palace attached to the museum. Photography was prohibited, and to ensure that the rules weren’t broken, everybody’s bags were taken at the door. I hadn’t been so nervous in a long time, but I was able to securely lock my bag in a locker. The museum mainly contained photographs and stories of the Nepali monarchy, many of which had not been translated into English. Many display cases had brief English captions, enough for me to understand their stories. One of the past kings enjoyed collecting foreign stamps and currencies; amid the collection on display I was able to spot a handful of Canadian coins.

Newborn aardvarks look really strange.

On the other side of the square is the notorious Kumari Bahal where the Kumari Devi lives. Entering the square within the Bahal, you are able to see the faint form of the goddess through thickly thatched windows. You can imagine what she looks like though as she was carefully selected for the position, and had to meet 32 strict physical criteria.

“Once suitable candidates have been found they are gathered together in a darkened room where terrifying noises are make, while men dance by in horrific masks and 108 gruesome buffalo heads are on display. Naturally, these goings on are unlikely to frighten a real goddess, so the young girl who remains calm and collected throughout the ordeal is clearly the new Kumari.”

Clearly!

My eating patterns have changed significantly since my arrival. I have a light brunch of toast or fruit salad. The banana pancakes here can’t compare to Nellie’s and other familiar breakfast items like French toast are too eggy, and aren’t something that I think I could approach with a fork. I looked in a bakery today to see if I would be able to spot a bagel! No luck. I’m not too keen on the bakery items yet, seeing the way that they are handled and left in the open are something that I might have to learn to accept. After my 1 or 2 dollar breakfast, I might just snack on momos or bananas during the afternoon. Western-sounding items on the dinner menu always seem very appealing to me, and I’m almost always startled when it arrives on my table. A green salad was really cucumber on a plate cut into a few large slices. My cheese sandwich on the other hand, was really two sandwiches grilled with chicken and fries. How delightful! Dining by candlelight for 5 dollars is fantastic. Not that the candle light is an option in some cases; the electricity seems to cut out at different times every day.

I mailed three letters today! The ‘post office’ was a little sketchy, so I hope they make it to their destination safely.

15/11/2008

Walking through Thamel last night on my way to get some dinner, I crossed paths with a group of about 6 or 7 monks. Curious, I briefly followed them down the street. Oblivious to the cars passing just inches away from their sandal clad feet, they looked into the windows of shops and at the mountains of items for sale in awe. I will never forget their unanimous expression of joy when they spotted a display of simple children’s puppets. Without even speaking with them, I was able to share their happiness as I passed by since I was able to catch a glimpse of such a different way of life. Now I know where all the happy people are.
I think I’m going to buy a yak wool sweater. I don’t know if they’re as itchy as regular sheep wool, but I’m looking forward to being warm and comfortable at the moment. Having just showered, my head is wet and cold (I sure miss my hairdryer!), so I’ve tucked myself into bed. I have to wait until Monday to talk to Emma from VSN, so I think I’m going to ask her advice for a different hotel. I’m prepared to dish out more than 10 dollars per night if it means that I get a consistently warm shower and something that at least resembles a mattress. I’m beginning to get used to the noise outside my window, but it didn’t make my night more comfortable last night. I anticipated getting sick during this trip, but with a lucky first few days I had a glimmer of hope that I might be able to make it without feeling anything but homesick. I love the country and the people here so much, but no amount of rice or bumpy rickshaw rides can replace the comforts of home.
“Make a list; you’ll feel better”
Here are some things that I miss:
• Bailey
• Especially the long walks with Bailey that never had a destination, just sleepless hours to kill
• Laying around for hours watching House with my family
• My cozy mouse from Chandri (I used it as a pillow every night and really should have brought it)
• Laying around with Alex and Sofia playing with little plastic farm animals and singing “We’re little people with lots of plans, little people with helping hands, little people we like to work and play, little people making friends every day!”
• My shower
• My whole bathroom
• Ice cubes in my drink
• Bagels
• All of my wonderful friends
• My wonderful friends that watch Grey’s Anatomy
• Grey’s Anatomy (And Pushing Daisies too!)
• Breakfast at Nellie’s
• Breakfast at Zellers and Moxie’s
• My friend Rabbit
• My blanket
• Chinese food at the Happy Valley
• Making lists for everything
• McDonalds (Ew. Yum. )
• Restaurants that aren’t filled with people who are smoking
• Traffic lights
• Crossing the street
• Purple nail polish
• Seatbelts

I feel better!

13/11/2008

So I’ve found a wonderful place to enjoy momos, cake and coffee all at once. And internet too! It’s the most charming cafe which treats you to fabulous chocolate cake while you wirelessly surf the web. The staff are all very friendly, but communicate through signing since they are either deaf or mute. I still can’t really figure out the Canadian value of anything (well I can, just after pondering it for a while, and converting from rupees.)

Rooftop meals are common here, so you can enjoy your cheese and tomato sandwich (with fries!) while observing the patterns of traffic below. So far, I haven’t been able to identify a pattern. Everyone moves at once, but nobody is in a rush. Bicycles weave around all over the narrow streets while the drivers of taxis lean out of their windows trying to find someone who might want a ride. I’ve witnessed a handful of cows who lumber around the streets as if they own the place, and the dogs all confidently cross and stop at will.

Swayambhunath Temple

This temple is known affectionately as the Monkey Temple after the large troop of monkeys that guards the hill and amuses visitors and devotees with tricks such as sliding gracefully down the banisters of the main stairway to the temple."

This is another place that I am going to have to revisit. By the time that I got to the top of the giant staircase leading to this temple, I had missed the perfect evening light and had to use a handrail to help me get a clear picture. Even the handrail didn`t help much since there were too many monkeys leaping on and back off of the rail. I didn`t take nearly as many pictures as I should have, but the view of the city was absolutely breathtaking with the mountains in the evening light. The baby monkeys were a riot! They chased each other through the trees and across the pathway. There were monkeys hanging from every strand of prayer flags, and sitting in every little nook and corner.