An in between trips week in Kathmandu
I have been into KISC a couple times this week. I had to finish clearing the stuff from the art store that no longer exists. Some stuff seemed like it hadn’t been cleaned in years and I got rather black with dirt. I then also had to go shopping to get stuff for the art classes. I haven’t got much of the budget for this term left. I think I may speak to the VP about a wee bit more money (she said to do that if I needed some).
We had visitors for dinner last night which was fun. I like entertaining. Mostly this week has been in some way focused on Saturday (tomorrow) as we are going to TIBET!! We are all quite excited. I will leave this to write more about it when I have actually been there, seen the Potala Palace, tasted the disgusting salty, rancid buttery tea and hopefully not experienced altitude sickness!!
Friday, October 11, 2002
Six Days in Pokhara
We arrived in Pokhara on Friday afternoon. It was very nice to see the swimming pool shining very blue in the sunshine. Nice after a long bus journey and nice after six days of rain! I had a swim first thing! We made good use of the pool. I swam at least once a day and was proud of myself for doing at least 40 lengths each day. (Well I’m not exactly the fittest person in the world!!) The Barahi Hotel where we stayed was very nice. They also gave good rates for residents, which dad was able to book. It was NRs 600 a night for a double room which is about a fiver.
On Saturday morning mum and dad and I went to church up in Lamachaur, a small village on the edge of Pokhara where we used to live for about 10 years. We had lunch after church with our old landlady. That and Wednesday were supposed to be our only meals at old friends houses but we ended up back up in Lamachaur for Sunday lunch, Monday evening we ate an amazing dahl bhat at the house of the owner of the hotel we were staying in who we discovered used to teach in the school where dad taught too many years ago. Sunday afternoon we visited Hari who had worked for us, and nothing would do but that we go back for food on Tuesday evening. It was so good to see her. She is married now and has two boys. She is only about five years older than me and was more of my friend when she was working with us. Wednesday we went to visit the first didi who worked for us. I was only four when she finished working for us so wouldn’t have recognized her anyway, but mum and dad had a shock at how old she looked. She has had seven kids and a bit of a hard life, and it shows. It was good to see her too. Fortunately she didn’t have dahl bhat as she was wanting us to come back the next day but we were leaving. Fortunately because after her we went to a village called Hyenja to visit Putali didi who was our didi for longest and a good friend to mum. She cooked us dahl bhat and we had a nice few hours there.
As well as this we got to hang out a little bit by the lakeside, though a little less than anticipated. Leisurely breakfasts at the Boomerang garden restaurant that has views out over the lake, where they have a hammock and a swinging chair and an atmosphere very conducive to hanging out all day. Lunch there too. Dinner at any of a number of cafes with good food, nice rooftop restaurants or indoor tables seated on cushions on a raised floor, or at a table outside. A lot of them show videos starting at about 7pm so you can pick where to eat by the movie too. We went one night to a good place we returned to for mum and dad to see a bit of Shrek. A favourite with me I must say.
We went out on the lake for an hour. A funny familiar experience. How many times had we been out there before. A family day out, a day of growing up when my brothers and I were able to row mum and dad around by ourselves. Learning to swim between the steps on the island with the temple. The water level in the lake seems to have risen as the island is smaller. I took a few photos, they came out okay but it is hard to get those ‘great’ shots.
The mountains were visible for a while most mornings before the clouds came up over them. On the Tuesday morning they were completely misted over when I got up to check at 6am if we should go for our walk. By 7am they were absolutely clear the whole range across and stunning. We got a taxi and then walked for about 45 minutes up to a stupa on top of a hill on the other side of the lake. A good walk up and a slightly clouding over but still really good view of the mountains. They are awesome. Completely and utterly amazing!!
We arrived in Pokhara on Friday afternoon. It was very nice to see the swimming pool shining very blue in the sunshine. Nice after a long bus journey and nice after six days of rain! I had a swim first thing! We made good use of the pool. I swam at least once a day and was proud of myself for doing at least 40 lengths each day. (Well I’m not exactly the fittest person in the world!!) The Barahi Hotel where we stayed was very nice. They also gave good rates for residents, which dad was able to book. It was NRs 600 a night for a double room which is about a fiver.
On Saturday morning mum and dad and I went to church up in Lamachaur, a small village on the edge of Pokhara where we used to live for about 10 years. We had lunch after church with our old landlady. That and Wednesday were supposed to be our only meals at old friends houses but we ended up back up in Lamachaur for Sunday lunch, Monday evening we ate an amazing dahl bhat at the house of the owner of the hotel we were staying in who we discovered used to teach in the school where dad taught too many years ago. Sunday afternoon we visited Hari who had worked for us, and nothing would do but that we go back for food on Tuesday evening. It was so good to see her. She is married now and has two boys. She is only about five years older than me and was more of my friend when she was working with us. Wednesday we went to visit the first didi who worked for us. I was only four when she finished working for us so wouldn’t have recognized her anyway, but mum and dad had a shock at how old she looked. She has had seven kids and a bit of a hard life, and it shows. It was good to see her too. Fortunately she didn’t have dahl bhat as she was wanting us to come back the next day but we were leaving. Fortunately because after her we went to a village called Hyenja to visit Putali didi who was our didi for longest and a good friend to mum. She cooked us dahl bhat and we had a nice few hours there.
As well as this we got to hang out a little bit by the lakeside, though a little less than anticipated. Leisurely breakfasts at the Boomerang garden restaurant that has views out over the lake, where they have a hammock and a swinging chair and an atmosphere very conducive to hanging out all day. Lunch there too. Dinner at any of a number of cafes with good food, nice rooftop restaurants or indoor tables seated on cushions on a raised floor, or at a table outside. A lot of them show videos starting at about 7pm so you can pick where to eat by the movie too. We went one night to a good place we returned to for mum and dad to see a bit of Shrek. A favourite with me I must say.
We went out on the lake for an hour. A funny familiar experience. How many times had we been out there before. A family day out, a day of growing up when my brothers and I were able to row mum and dad around by ourselves. Learning to swim between the steps on the island with the temple. The water level in the lake seems to have risen as the island is smaller. I took a few photos, they came out okay but it is hard to get those ‘great’ shots.
The mountains were visible for a while most mornings before the clouds came up over them. On the Tuesday morning they were completely misted over when I got up to check at 6am if we should go for our walk. By 7am they were absolutely clear the whole range across and stunning. We got a taxi and then walked for about 45 minutes up to a stupa on top of a hill on the other side of the lake. A good walk up and a slightly clouding over but still really good view of the mountains. They are awesome. Completely and utterly amazing!!
The road
The road is part of my journey. It is going somewhere and taking me to a destination. All of us on the bus are passing through. We experience the length of the road, the turns and changes, the bumps, the valleys, the hairpin bends, the scenery. We are accompanied by the changing rivers, a presence along side us. We pass through towns and villages and take mental snapshots of the faces and scenes. The bathers, the vendors, the people breaking rocks, the men playing karam, the children going to school. Our experience of the road is moving, transitory and changing.
The people in the village experience the road as part of life. What does the road seem like to people who live in a village by the road but have never left it. The road is solid and a part of life, your children are born and live by it, they play on it, you walk to work or the fields along it, you cross it to get water, you sell your snacks to people who pass by on it, it is a central part of life in villages that straddle the tarmac. Yet it is also a fluid thing that brings people and changes and moves on. Passing through. Never static. Always busy and moving and changing and vibrant. Does the road have its own life? Does it call people to leave the village and move on, to where may not be clear, but onwards. A call to the unknown.
Maybe that is just me. Is a road okay just to be there? Does it beg to be travelled and explored? For me I think it does. I like to sit and watch the world go by, but after a while I want to be ‘the going by’, on my way to some new place. Seeing where the road takes me and what the road offers me. Onwards.
The road is part of my journey. It is going somewhere and taking me to a destination. All of us on the bus are passing through. We experience the length of the road, the turns and changes, the bumps, the valleys, the hairpin bends, the scenery. We are accompanied by the changing rivers, a presence along side us. We pass through towns and villages and take mental snapshots of the faces and scenes. The bathers, the vendors, the people breaking rocks, the men playing karam, the children going to school. Our experience of the road is moving, transitory and changing.
The people in the village experience the road as part of life. What does the road seem like to people who live in a village by the road but have never left it. The road is solid and a part of life, your children are born and live by it, they play on it, you walk to work or the fields along it, you cross it to get water, you sell your snacks to people who pass by on it, it is a central part of life in villages that straddle the tarmac. Yet it is also a fluid thing that brings people and changes and moves on. Passing through. Never static. Always busy and moving and changing and vibrant. Does the road have its own life? Does it call people to leave the village and move on, to where may not be clear, but onwards. A call to the unknown.
Maybe that is just me. Is a road okay just to be there? Does it beg to be travelled and explored? For me I think it does. I like to sit and watch the world go by, but after a while I want to be ‘the going by’, on my way to some new place. Seeing where the road takes me and what the road offers me. Onwards.
The Road Journey to Pokhara
We got to the Swiss bus at 6.45am. Plenty of time to be plied with snacks by vendors hoping for a sale before our departure at 7am. It was Friday morning (27th September) and we were heading to Pokhara for a few days. A girl called Lisa McIlhenny went with us. They were old family friends and her younger brother and my youngest brother were best friends as they grew up (ever since Andrew had knocked Stephen down the stairs with his round belly aged two). The Swiss bus had sold a lot of tickets so Lisa and I went on a different bus to mum and dad, though we took the same stops. The Swiss bus is a company running what is known as a ‘tourist bus’ though locals use it too. It is a little more pricey than local buses but reputedly has safer drivers. And it still only cost two pounds for an eight hour/200 km bus journey.
As we climbed out of the Kathmandu valley on the same road we had followed the weekend before I enjoyed observing the moments of daily life that you can see from a bus window and they look different. A passing screen. A moving story.
The backdrops of advertising were all around. Faded red and yellow paint flaking off the brick wall, tin billboards advertising in red and white ‘Servo Industrial Oils – World class engine oils’ and ‘Nepal’s No. 1 Toothpaste – CLOSEUP’. But I am told that Colgate provides ‘Maximum Decay Protection’. The war of the toothpastes.
It always seems to be washing time of day along the road and as we climb the road out of the valley a cute little girl in a navy school uniform is washing her face at the edge of her verandah over an open drain and giving herself a soap beard. It has been raining all week and in the middle of a stretch of mud by the road a girl is squatting in front of a green bucket of water with a tap seated on a chair and washing dishes.
A lady in a red sari with the end of it covering her head was taking time to stand and look at the sky with her pointing baby in her arms.
There are lots of shops lining the road ranging from rows of food sellers with piles of fresh samosas and syel roti to a one room building by the side of the road with piles of old truck tyres outside. While a lot of the buildings are now squarish cement building there are still the occasional more traditional buildings. We passed a couple that were reddish mud bricks with terracotta tiles (instead of the more traditional straw) roofs with rows of drying corn hanging under the eaves.
We passed a bus that had stopped in the middle of the road and there was no driver. Going past we saw some men out the front fighting, with sticks and all. A Nepali lady at the front of the bus called out to the army as we went past the checkpoint at the top of the valley to go and see the fight. Mum and dad past a few minutes later and saw a soldier with a man, beating him and making him do pressups in the mud. There is a lot of harshness here mixed in with the gentleness of the people. We passed through the welcome to Kathmandu gate which was two white square pillars with a metal frame across the top. Loads of red, blue, white, yellow and green prayer flags were strung from a tree up a bank across the road to all the houses in the small row at the other side.
Down the hill we passed a painted ‘Beware of Landslides’ sign. Around the corner we came upon the remnant of an old but large slide. The side of the hill was being built up and reinforced with rocks and blocks and what looked like giant chicken wire.
‘Obey Rules Stop Accident’ read a sensible sign. Much in the vein of the Kathmandu Valley traffic police initiative that ended traffic week with lots of drivers displaying stickers that proudly (and meaninglessly) proclaim “We love to obey traffic rules”.
Tower Hill Heaven Resort.
River Sound Lodge.
Hungry Feel Restaurant.
Blue Heaven Restaurant with a Peace & Heaven bus parked outside.
I’m not sure who stays in these places. They are very much on the road to somewhere rather than much of a destination in themselves. The restaurants would do a bit better, but the ones who don’t have a deal with a bus company must surely suffer.
‘Welcome to Nepal – The Biggest Netural Museum in the World.
Important Information for the Tourist’. Unfortunately I missed some of the important (and amusing) information.
Just before Mugling, the half way point where local buses still stop for their dahl bhat meal, we passed a number of buses all stopped with a crowd of people all standing looking over the side of the road. A bus had gone over. We didn’t stop but it was a very sobering sight. The bus had gone over the wrong side of the road. It was on a straight stretch so he may have just been a mad driver overtaking at a really bad place. We were glad of our steady Swiss bus drivers. Where they went over was one of the steepest cliffs along the whole road. It was at least a 200/300 ft drop straight down to the river. I didn’t imagine anyone could survive, but we later found out that quite a few did. However two Nepali members of UMN (United Mission to Nepal) who mum and dad work with were killed. It was very hard for everyone involved and quite a shock.
There were three men sitting at the side of the road in a village under the shadde of a tree and lying back into the road. They sat up to let us past and I’m sure lay down again. The road is a part of life.
Further west and getting closer to Pokhara the feel of the road changes. The bottom of the valley widens out, the river by the road is smaller and gentler and there is only a little slope to the river. The greens are brighter and we pass banana trees and fields of ripening rice whose fragrance is more pleasant than the fumes and dust that are the main fragrances of the road. The road has also narrowed to adequately fit only one vehicle and it is noticeably bumpier.
A beautiful blue kingfisher sits on an electric wire.
Down below the bridge we are crossing there are buses and people bathing together. I’m sure further upstream there are probably some buffalo too.
We pass through a large ‘gate’ and are given a “Heartly Welcome to Pokhara”.
We got to the Swiss bus at 6.45am. Plenty of time to be plied with snacks by vendors hoping for a sale before our departure at 7am. It was Friday morning (27th September) and we were heading to Pokhara for a few days. A girl called Lisa McIlhenny went with us. They were old family friends and her younger brother and my youngest brother were best friends as they grew up (ever since Andrew had knocked Stephen down the stairs with his round belly aged two). The Swiss bus had sold a lot of tickets so Lisa and I went on a different bus to mum and dad, though we took the same stops. The Swiss bus is a company running what is known as a ‘tourist bus’ though locals use it too. It is a little more pricey than local buses but reputedly has safer drivers. And it still only cost two pounds for an eight hour/200 km bus journey.
As we climbed out of the Kathmandu valley on the same road we had followed the weekend before I enjoyed observing the moments of daily life that you can see from a bus window and they look different. A passing screen. A moving story.
The backdrops of advertising were all around. Faded red and yellow paint flaking off the brick wall, tin billboards advertising in red and white ‘Servo Industrial Oils – World class engine oils’ and ‘Nepal’s No. 1 Toothpaste – CLOSEUP’. But I am told that Colgate provides ‘Maximum Decay Protection’. The war of the toothpastes.
It always seems to be washing time of day along the road and as we climb the road out of the valley a cute little girl in a navy school uniform is washing her face at the edge of her verandah over an open drain and giving herself a soap beard. It has been raining all week and in the middle of a stretch of mud by the road a girl is squatting in front of a green bucket of water with a tap seated on a chair and washing dishes.
A lady in a red sari with the end of it covering her head was taking time to stand and look at the sky with her pointing baby in her arms.
There are lots of shops lining the road ranging from rows of food sellers with piles of fresh samosas and syel roti to a one room building by the side of the road with piles of old truck tyres outside. While a lot of the buildings are now squarish cement building there are still the occasional more traditional buildings. We passed a couple that were reddish mud bricks with terracotta tiles (instead of the more traditional straw) roofs with rows of drying corn hanging under the eaves.
We passed a bus that had stopped in the middle of the road and there was no driver. Going past we saw some men out the front fighting, with sticks and all. A Nepali lady at the front of the bus called out to the army as we went past the checkpoint at the top of the valley to go and see the fight. Mum and dad past a few minutes later and saw a soldier with a man, beating him and making him do pressups in the mud. There is a lot of harshness here mixed in with the gentleness of the people. We passed through the welcome to Kathmandu gate which was two white square pillars with a metal frame across the top. Loads of red, blue, white, yellow and green prayer flags were strung from a tree up a bank across the road to all the houses in the small row at the other side.
Down the hill we passed a painted ‘Beware of Landslides’ sign. Around the corner we came upon the remnant of an old but large slide. The side of the hill was being built up and reinforced with rocks and blocks and what looked like giant chicken wire.
‘Obey Rules Stop Accident’ read a sensible sign. Much in the vein of the Kathmandu Valley traffic police initiative that ended traffic week with lots of drivers displaying stickers that proudly (and meaninglessly) proclaim “We love to obey traffic rules”.
Tower Hill Heaven Resort.
River Sound Lodge.
Hungry Feel Restaurant.
Blue Heaven Restaurant with a Peace & Heaven bus parked outside.
I’m not sure who stays in these places. They are very much on the road to somewhere rather than much of a destination in themselves. The restaurants would do a bit better, but the ones who don’t have a deal with a bus company must surely suffer.
‘Welcome to Nepal – The Biggest Netural Museum in the World.
Important Information for the Tourist’. Unfortunately I missed some of the important (and amusing) information.
Just before Mugling, the half way point where local buses still stop for their dahl bhat meal, we passed a number of buses all stopped with a crowd of people all standing looking over the side of the road. A bus had gone over. We didn’t stop but it was a very sobering sight. The bus had gone over the wrong side of the road. It was on a straight stretch so he may have just been a mad driver overtaking at a really bad place. We were glad of our steady Swiss bus drivers. Where they went over was one of the steepest cliffs along the whole road. It was at least a 200/300 ft drop straight down to the river. I didn’t imagine anyone could survive, but we later found out that quite a few did. However two Nepali members of UMN (United Mission to Nepal) who mum and dad work with were killed. It was very hard for everyone involved and quite a shock.
There were three men sitting at the side of the road in a village under the shadde of a tree and lying back into the road. They sat up to let us past and I’m sure lay down again. The road is a part of life.
Further west and getting closer to Pokhara the feel of the road changes. The bottom of the valley widens out, the river by the road is smaller and gentler and there is only a little slope to the river. The greens are brighter and we pass banana trees and fields of ripening rice whose fragrance is more pleasant than the fumes and dust that are the main fragrances of the road. The road has also narrowed to adequately fit only one vehicle and it is noticeably bumpier.
A beautiful blue kingfisher sits on an electric wire.
Down below the bridge we are crossing there are buses and people bathing together. I’m sure further upstream there are probably some buffalo too.
We pass through a large ‘gate’ and are given a “Heartly Welcome to Pokhara”.
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
Last week was a busy week in Kathmandu as it was the week of the KISC musical performance of "The Witness". There were four performances in all, three with paying audiences that were full and suitably impressed. A good week for all involved and most especially for the young people. I was busy helping with that and also with clearing out the art store room, which is becoming the sixth form common room, and sorting out the art room. There is still a little bit of work to do and I will have to go in and do that next week during the holidays as I am in Pokhara this week and the week after will be in Tibet!!!!! Yes just slightly looking forward to that!!
I have enjoyed helping out at KISC (my old school) and now that I know I am staying to help teach next term ("Head of Art" - all of 'me') I am glad I didn't have to say goodbye to all the kids yet. I don't want to be a teacher - but really enjoy teaching/working with art and young people. There aer worse things I'm sure. I have spent quite a while this week sorting out what we are going to cover in the different classes next term. Trying to be organised as term starts two days after we get back from Tibet. (Oh yes did I mention I was going to Tibet?). It has been really good to be in Pokhara too, but I will write more about that soon.
I have enjoyed helping out at KISC (my old school) and now that I know I am staying to help teach next term ("Head of Art" - all of 'me') I am glad I didn't have to say goodbye to all the kids yet. I don't want to be a teacher - but really enjoy teaching/working with art and young people. There aer worse things I'm sure. I have spent quite a while this week sorting out what we are going to cover in the different classes next term. Trying to be organised as term starts two days after we get back from Tibet. (Oh yes did I mention I was going to Tibet?). It has been really good to be in Pokhara too, but I will write more about that soon.
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