Alas, it has not been a good week.
I have lost my sock, sunglasses, earrings, trekking towel, and my composure. Sulky regression to 5 year old Louise: 'Fuck life!! -snivel snivel sniff sniff- fucking fuck life!'.
To be fair, this snivelling occurred after a massive FAIL attempt at retail therapy. I thought I would buy some tailor made trousers to make me feel better. After a careful measuring up, several meters of exciting pink material, and 4 days of waiting; my trousers do not fit. There were only two conclusions I could draw from this disaster:
a) The tailor mixed up my measurements with those of a passing circus dwarf on stilts.
b) I am actually a circus dwarf on stilts.
I'm unwilling to decide on which of these conclusions is actually more accurate.
I tried to top up my phone credit the other day, only to be informed by Namaste phone services that I did not have enough credit to do so. I am, possibly, a little bit buggered.
Today, the bad luck unforunately infected my friend as well as myself, like the foul and persistent cold we are all suffering from. Eva had 2000 rupees stolen from her wallet on the bus. No laughing matter. 'I hope the bastard buys himself some seriously dodgy alcohol!' the angry rant went... in context; several people have ended up either dead or blind after drinking Nepalese made alcohol in the past few weeks.
Also, someone was attacked by a leopard in Kathmandu. This is pretty unusual...they don't tend to hang around the city. Just the other week, a wife saved her son and husband from being eaten by a tiger in a rural village near Chitwan...even in my month and a half here I have heard of several tiger attacks there, it's not so uncommon. But Kathmandu, that's pretty bad. Still, the leopard is dead now.
I have been eating meat for the past week and a half. I feel very bad. I have taken to apologizing at said food items before I put them in my mouth. I will try and stop again now (she says, going out for sushi this evening). Ann, Eva, Katie, John, Lhama and I all went to Begnas Tal for a holiday this weekend. There were fresh fish being chopped up (still alive). Reminded me of South African fishing.
The recently turned omnivore Katie called me morbid for picking up a slimy fish head and having a poke. What's wrong with being interested in biology I tell you? Surely if you're gonna eat the thing you should appreciate it in all it's dead and carcassey glory?
Never liked fish anyway. Too many bones.
Mmm, sushi.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Life in an orphanage in Nepal....
Living in an orphanage has some advantages and some disadvantages. Breakfast is quite a gamble...
Day 1: Muesli
Day 2: Pancakes (albeit very thick gooey ones)
Day 3: Omelette
Day 4: Biscuits (...?)
Day 5: Popcorn (!?!?!?)
...they seem to get weirder by the day. The monotonous but tasty and predictable dal bhat for lunch and dinner seems somewhat preferable, as it does, at least, fill you up for more than half an hour.
We play the card game Cheat a lot. As the name might suggest, this game is based around using deception to get rid of your cards. Try explaining this to a monk. "I cheated 3 times" he tells us proudly after our first successful game. He giggles a lot at us 'naughty Westerners', particularly me, as I have taken to stealing his sandals and hiding them around the house (the best hiding place yet is my feet). He gets up at 6.30 every morning and doesn't stop until 9.30 at night. Sometimes he goes up to the monastery for a few hours rest and meditation...can't blame him. It's very peaceful there, as long as you ignore the young monks running around practicing the kung-fu moves they've seen on tv. Not so different to the 7 year olds you'd see elsewhere, really. Very wary of females.
The Westerners include Ann, Eva, Katie...Ann, the matriarch of the group, is a vivacious and mature lady with sparkling eyes and a wicked sense of humour. The 19 year old French Eva reminds me a lot of my sister; chilled and witty, with a very sexy pair of Hawaiian shorts. Katie, the recently-turned-Christian, is vegetarian, has Buddhist tattoos and a homeopathic travel survival kit.
Then of course, John and I. Those of you who don't know John might like to know a little about him: Irish, loves Irish folk music, running, and any 'great craic' there is to be had.
Such people have led to some hilarious situations, not least with us piling into a taxi the other day: 5 passengers meant that I had to stage dive in on top of the others. I ended up sitting on John's lap. We start moving. 'John, please put your knob down.' Ann states. John gasps at her in horror and I look round slightly disturbed, thinking I might have noticed had such an event occurred. "...oh, on the door, on the door!!'' she laughs.
We laughed all the way to Mahendra Pul, our Nepalese friend laughing along with absolutely no idea what we were on about.
Day 1: Muesli
Day 2: Pancakes (albeit very thick gooey ones)
Day 3: Omelette
Day 4: Biscuits (...?)
Day 5: Popcorn (!?!?!?)
...they seem to get weirder by the day. The monotonous but tasty and predictable dal bhat for lunch and dinner seems somewhat preferable, as it does, at least, fill you up for more than half an hour.
We play the card game Cheat a lot. As the name might suggest, this game is based around using deception to get rid of your cards. Try explaining this to a monk. "I cheated 3 times" he tells us proudly after our first successful game. He giggles a lot at us 'naughty Westerners', particularly me, as I have taken to stealing his sandals and hiding them around the house (the best hiding place yet is my feet). He gets up at 6.30 every morning and doesn't stop until 9.30 at night. Sometimes he goes up to the monastery for a few hours rest and meditation...can't blame him. It's very peaceful there, as long as you ignore the young monks running around practicing the kung-fu moves they've seen on tv. Not so different to the 7 year olds you'd see elsewhere, really. Very wary of females.
The Westerners include Ann, Eva, Katie...Ann, the matriarch of the group, is a vivacious and mature lady with sparkling eyes and a wicked sense of humour. The 19 year old French Eva reminds me a lot of my sister; chilled and witty, with a very sexy pair of Hawaiian shorts. Katie, the recently-turned-Christian, is vegetarian, has Buddhist tattoos and a homeopathic travel survival kit.
Then of course, John and I. Those of you who don't know John might like to know a little about him: Irish, loves Irish folk music, running, and any 'great craic' there is to be had.
Such people have led to some hilarious situations, not least with us piling into a taxi the other day: 5 passengers meant that I had to stage dive in on top of the others. I ended up sitting on John's lap. We start moving. 'John, please put your knob down.' Ann states. John gasps at her in horror and I look round slightly disturbed, thinking I might have noticed had such an event occurred. "...oh, on the door, on the door!!'' she laughs.
We laughed all the way to Mahendra Pul, our Nepalese friend laughing along with absolutely no idea what we were on about.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Chitwan National Park
John and I decided to take a short break and go to Chitwan National Park with a group of volunteers we trained with in Kathmandu. I shall relay the enticing exotica of a tale henceforth:
A 6am start ensures that we manage to get Trisuli for our rafting trip to Chitwan. Please note that Trisuli is 150 km from Pokhara. Please also note that we didn't manage to arrive at Trisuli until 11am. I believe that the number of bumps in the road actually doubles the distance between these two places and as such my patience can almost justify the excessive time loss.
John was not having a good day. His day was not improved by the very bumpy bus journey. As we hit a particularly deep pothole I hear a loud 'FUCK!!' shouted from behind my head. The Nepalese do not look. I assume they are either used to tourists swearing loudly on their buses or immune to loud noises in general, Nepal being a very noisy place. Turns out John has hit his head on the roof and sits cradling himself moaning for the next half an hour. He managed to dislodge the roof light with his skull. Nice. I look back at the accused pothole only to find that, ironically, it is a speed bump. Thank you so much, Nepali road management team.
We finally arrive at the start of our river rafting trip, which is very awesome, despite the cumbersome safety gear (cue Jeff and I doing enthusiastic chest bumping and head butts with our lifejackets and helmets on - completely painless). The safety gear is required because we are doing a Grade 3 white water rafting course. My helmet is too big as it slips around yet somehow also manages to cut off the blood supply to certain parts of my head. I debate whether or not to take my helmet off for the sake of comfort. On the first rapids section, we lose a couple of people off the boat including a guide...I tighten the strap on my helmet and my grip on my paddle.
There were several lazy rest sections between the rapids, in which Jeff, Carrie and I jump in and have a swim (as much as you can swim wearing a life jacket). One unfortunate fellow attempts to dive off the boat, resulting in little more than a belly-flopping head-dunk. Elegant. The water is very cold but not as cold as Camps Bay, so I cope quite well with the chill where Jeff bobs along alternately shouting 'This is great!!!' and 'I'm fucking cold!!!'. All in all, an excellent ride, and seeing the steep riverbanks from the inside out is stunning - lots of wildlife and caves. We also floated past an area where they are mining the rock from the riverside...it looks like an avalanche waiting to happen. Who thought it would be a good idea to mine from the bottom of the riverback upwards? The river bank responds to my question with a mini-rockslide...I was not upset to be past that part of the scenery I can tell you!
A soggy bus ride later we arrive in Chitwan for a mediocre dinner and a lot of sleep. Alas, my thoughts of lie-ins were not to be: a 6.30am start was preceded by listening to some incredibly noisy bird getting overexcited about something or other. Mat labels it the 'orgasm bird' on account of its increasingly excited cawing.
A short jeep ride later we are surrounded by about 20 elephants, all trumpeting at us in greeting. They are Massive. Each of their legs is as thick as a man, their trucks are as tall as I am. Each has a funny looking square seat strapped to its back - we sit four to an elephant. Time for short safari methinks. Our mahout (elephant driver) steers with his feet and whacks Fulmia when he doesn't go in the direction he's supposed to - Fulmia growls a lot, and it feels like sitting on an engine. 'Fulmia, dar lagyo? Dar lagyo?' says our mahout, Bishnu. You feel scared? I translate in my head - the first time I have managed to understand Nepali spontaneously. 'Ah, kushee lagena?' (Not happy?) I joke with him. We laugh at the rhyming of 'Hati mero sati' - the elephant is my friend.
The climax of our safari is seeing a rhino, something I failed to spot in our African safari. They look like tanks. Armour plated, mechanical yet living tanks. Ours did not want to be disturbed by a group of elephants sporting some very loud and odd looking animals on their backs. As such I have several excellent pictures of what a rhino backside looks like, should anyone wish to see them.
A tourist on the elephant in front of us got his hat knocked off by a tree branch (we all got rather whipped by tree branches that day). Bishnu wiggles his feet and taps Fulmia on the head. He grudgingly picks the hat up off the grounds and hands it to Bishnu. I comment on the grudginess. 'He is only 9 years old, this one, he is like the teenager, you know?' Bishnu explains.
Off the elephants and into the water again. We are driven to a riverside where a hollowed out tree trunk awaits us...ahem, sorry, a 'canoe'. It sits very low in the water with 10 occupants. We each have a tiny wooden seat to sit on which, if anything, increases the discomfort of my ride. I feel sorry for Mat in front who has his knees up by his ears - leg room is seen by all Nepalese as an unnecessary luxury. We see a few crocodiles lounging around on the banks, happily asleep it seems. After we have floated past, one of them looks at us and slips into the water - and within 10 seconds I have lost track of it. Impossible to see. No swimming in this river.
We get out of the raft to take more pictures of rhino bottoms and go on a walk through the 'jungle' - although we see a tiger print this is our only reward for risking life and limb by crunching our way through the forest with 'easy meat' signs flashing in neon above our heads. It seemed much more like a forest than a jungle to me - I could have been in a wood at home if it wasn't for the tiger print (assuming it actually *was* a tiger print - John claims they have a person run on ahead of us and stamp it there so we think we got our moneys worth). Our walk takes us out to the elephant breeding centre, where 2 month old twin elephants await. They are highly adorable but I am much more taken with the free roaming 9 month old, who comes up to us eagerly searching for chocolate. Very cute and hairy.
Next, to the river for elephant bathing! A mahout, wearing neon pink swimming trunks, guides his elephant to us and we hop on. We stand on his back, looking like pros. The elephant sprays us with water and plonks himself down in the river, wobbling us off his back in a most ungracious fashion. Hilariously good fun.
We ride home sitting on the roof of the jeep - after getting distracted for a moment, I narrowly avoid getting whacked in the face with a low hanging banana leaf - 'Good reactions!' our guide looks impressed. Beautiful sunset over the river with a cocktail in my hand - it feels like Hawaii.
Bliss.
A 6am start ensures that we manage to get Trisuli for our rafting trip to Chitwan. Please note that Trisuli is 150 km from Pokhara. Please also note that we didn't manage to arrive at Trisuli until 11am. I believe that the number of bumps in the road actually doubles the distance between these two places and as such my patience can almost justify the excessive time loss.
John was not having a good day. His day was not improved by the very bumpy bus journey. As we hit a particularly deep pothole I hear a loud 'FUCK!!' shouted from behind my head. The Nepalese do not look. I assume they are either used to tourists swearing loudly on their buses or immune to loud noises in general, Nepal being a very noisy place. Turns out John has hit his head on the roof and sits cradling himself moaning for the next half an hour. He managed to dislodge the roof light with his skull. Nice. I look back at the accused pothole only to find that, ironically, it is a speed bump. Thank you so much, Nepali road management team.
We finally arrive at the start of our river rafting trip, which is very awesome, despite the cumbersome safety gear (cue Jeff and I doing enthusiastic chest bumping and head butts with our lifejackets and helmets on - completely painless). The safety gear is required because we are doing a Grade 3 white water rafting course. My helmet is too big as it slips around yet somehow also manages to cut off the blood supply to certain parts of my head. I debate whether or not to take my helmet off for the sake of comfort. On the first rapids section, we lose a couple of people off the boat including a guide...I tighten the strap on my helmet and my grip on my paddle.
There were several lazy rest sections between the rapids, in which Jeff, Carrie and I jump in and have a swim (as much as you can swim wearing a life jacket). One unfortunate fellow attempts to dive off the boat, resulting in little more than a belly-flopping head-dunk. Elegant. The water is very cold but not as cold as Camps Bay, so I cope quite well with the chill where Jeff bobs along alternately shouting 'This is great!!!' and 'I'm fucking cold!!!'. All in all, an excellent ride, and seeing the steep riverbanks from the inside out is stunning - lots of wildlife and caves. We also floated past an area where they are mining the rock from the riverside...it looks like an avalanche waiting to happen. Who thought it would be a good idea to mine from the bottom of the riverback upwards? The river bank responds to my question with a mini-rockslide...I was not upset to be past that part of the scenery I can tell you!
A soggy bus ride later we arrive in Chitwan for a mediocre dinner and a lot of sleep. Alas, my thoughts of lie-ins were not to be: a 6.30am start was preceded by listening to some incredibly noisy bird getting overexcited about something or other. Mat labels it the 'orgasm bird' on account of its increasingly excited cawing.
A short jeep ride later we are surrounded by about 20 elephants, all trumpeting at us in greeting. They are Massive. Each of their legs is as thick as a man, their trucks are as tall as I am. Each has a funny looking square seat strapped to its back - we sit four to an elephant. Time for short safari methinks. Our mahout (elephant driver) steers with his feet and whacks Fulmia when he doesn't go in the direction he's supposed to - Fulmia growls a lot, and it feels like sitting on an engine. 'Fulmia, dar lagyo? Dar lagyo?' says our mahout, Bishnu. You feel scared? I translate in my head - the first time I have managed to understand Nepali spontaneously. 'Ah, kushee lagena?' (Not happy?) I joke with him. We laugh at the rhyming of 'Hati mero sati' - the elephant is my friend.
The climax of our safari is seeing a rhino, something I failed to spot in our African safari. They look like tanks. Armour plated, mechanical yet living tanks. Ours did not want to be disturbed by a group of elephants sporting some very loud and odd looking animals on their backs. As such I have several excellent pictures of what a rhino backside looks like, should anyone wish to see them.
A tourist on the elephant in front of us got his hat knocked off by a tree branch (we all got rather whipped by tree branches that day). Bishnu wiggles his feet and taps Fulmia on the head. He grudgingly picks the hat up off the grounds and hands it to Bishnu. I comment on the grudginess. 'He is only 9 years old, this one, he is like the teenager, you know?' Bishnu explains.
Off the elephants and into the water again. We are driven to a riverside where a hollowed out tree trunk awaits us...ahem, sorry, a 'canoe'. It sits very low in the water with 10 occupants. We each have a tiny wooden seat to sit on which, if anything, increases the discomfort of my ride. I feel sorry for Mat in front who has his knees up by his ears - leg room is seen by all Nepalese as an unnecessary luxury. We see a few crocodiles lounging around on the banks, happily asleep it seems. After we have floated past, one of them looks at us and slips into the water - and within 10 seconds I have lost track of it. Impossible to see. No swimming in this river.
We get out of the raft to take more pictures of rhino bottoms and go on a walk through the 'jungle' - although we see a tiger print this is our only reward for risking life and limb by crunching our way through the forest with 'easy meat' signs flashing in neon above our heads. It seemed much more like a forest than a jungle to me - I could have been in a wood at home if it wasn't for the tiger print (assuming it actually *was* a tiger print - John claims they have a person run on ahead of us and stamp it there so we think we got our moneys worth). Our walk takes us out to the elephant breeding centre, where 2 month old twin elephants await. They are highly adorable but I am much more taken with the free roaming 9 month old, who comes up to us eagerly searching for chocolate. Very cute and hairy.
Next, to the river for elephant bathing! A mahout, wearing neon pink swimming trunks, guides his elephant to us and we hop on. We stand on his back, looking like pros. The elephant sprays us with water and plonks himself down in the river, wobbling us off his back in a most ungracious fashion. Hilariously good fun.
We ride home sitting on the roof of the jeep - after getting distracted for a moment, I narrowly avoid getting whacked in the face with a low hanging banana leaf - 'Good reactions!' our guide looks impressed. Beautiful sunset over the river with a cocktail in my hand - it feels like Hawaii.
Bliss.
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