Himilayan tales

Ok, so I’m writing about something that happened almost 2 months ago, but until now I’ve either been unmotivated or busy!

On the 3rd of Feb I started my journey to Nepal from south India. I decided to be cheap and travel over land. First I was to take a bus from my town to the state capital, Chennai, 6 hours, then get on a train from Chennai to Calcutta, 24 hours, then change train and go to the Nepalese border at Bihar, 17 hours, then catch a bus to Kathmandu, 10 hours. It was all planned out, it should have only cost me a total of £15, but of course, this being India things don’t run smooth, and they never run to plan. The bus I was on from my place to Chennai crashed into a metal/concrete road divider. I think the driver was drunk as there were no other vehicles involved, and we crashed into something big and stationary in the middle of the road. We hit it head on, crumpling the front of the bus and smashing the windscreen in all over the driver. The bus was going nowhere. I had to change onto another passing bus after waiting around in madness and confusion for a while. The police showed up, but the driver pegged it! Of course no compensation, alternative bus or ticket refund was given. It didn’t matter so much anyway. I made it to Chennai in time for my morning train, with bruising and swelling coming up on my face where I smashed it into a pole on impact.

The first train journey was slow. We were delayed by 4 hours, and by the time I reached Calcutta I had missed my next train by a mere 20 minutes. There wasn’t another train until the next day. In Calcutta I had a couple of options. I could either take the next day train in 3rd class, having to spend 1 hours on a wooden bench with the Indian masses, or I could pay for an upgraded ticket to 1st class. I knew there may be problems crossing into Nepal on the date I was due to arrive as it was 2 days before elections. Which were causing problems in the country as the king had overthrown the government as he didn’t think they were doing enough to curb the growing Maoist threat. The elections were seen to be a sham by all, and the Maoists were causing country wide trouble, and it was possible that the border would be closed. So seeing as I had to spend the night in Calcutta I phoned my Dad to ask him to try and find out what the border and Nepal situation would be. After a few phone calls back and forth I find out the border would be open, but there was a forced strike of all shops and buses for 7 days, so even if I made it to the border, I would have to wait there until the strike was over. I was contemplating going to Bangladesh at that point, as it’s only a few hours from Calcutta, but I really wanted to go to Nepal, so had to pay for a flight, costing me US$105 for one way, and left the next morning.

I arrived to Kathmandu without any problems and took a free taxi to a hotel with a Cuban guy I met. I was obliged to stay for 1 night in an expensive (by my standards) hotel, and was glad to be able to leave the next day to a hotel of my choice. I had previously been to Nepal in September-October of 2003 and wanted this Nepal trip to be something different from before. I also wanted to lean something that would enable me to make easy money when I eventually get back to the UK, so found a guy that gave Thai massages, and asked him whether he would teach me for a fee. He agreed on charging about £40 for 2 weeks worth of lessons. I stayed in Thamel in Kathmandu for a week, going to massage class daily. I didn’t really want to stay in the tourist hub of Thamal, but seeing as there was no public transport, and a threat of civil unrest I thought it best to stay in a well touristed area. As it turns out there was no problems with violence during the elections. There were a few bombings around the country at that time, but in remote village places.

Learning Thai massage was quite hard. I had to learn a sequence of set moves, which by the end of the course was some 100+ moves.

After my one week in Kathmandu, going to places such as Buddhist Boudanath, the Tibetan area, and Syambu temple I headed to places not many tourists go to. I first wanted to go to a place called Manikaramana, it’s a place where there’s a temple on top of a hill. They have a cable car running up there, but when I got off the bus to go up I found the price for foreigners to be extortionate, and decided not to go up, so got on another bus and headed to a beautiful traditional village called Bandipur. In Bandipur I met my gorgeous new friend, Sujan. He was the brother of the guy that owned my little guesthouse. When I arrived I expected to spend just a day in Bandipur, as beautiful as it is, I didn’t think there was much there, but I was wrong. The following day Sujan, a friend of his and myself trekked for 2 hours to Asia’s 2nd largest cave. We explored the immense cave ourselves. It was totally awesome. The trek wasn’t. The views in this mountainous place were superb, but my fitness levels are so low at present that the walking side wasn’t so enjoyable. It also didn’t help that I have knee problems, which triggered pain from walking up and down. There isn’t much to do in the evenings, and people sleep very early. After my 8pm dinner I retired to my room to read a book on the mystics and magicians of old Tibet. The next day the three of us walked round mountain passes to a Mongol village called Ramcot. Ramcot is only accessible by foot, there are no roads, no electricity, and water piped in for only 2 hours each day. Te village and people there were beautiful. Totally traditional Mongolian style mud huts. The villagers of Ramcot survive on subsistence farming, taking their produce tied on a strap round their head when they managed to produce more than they could consume. I have never been to a village quite like this before, and took the opportunity to take great photos and interact with the people, able to speak to them through Sujan and his friend.

I was sad to leave the next day. Bandipur was such a special place. So quaint, quiet and traditional. It was like taking a step back in time in rural Nepal. I was also very sad to leave Sujan. We had become close, it was obvious we liked each other very much. We were just friends though. Most people in Nepal don’t have any kind of relationship before they get married. Although Sujan was 25 and totally gorgeous he had never even kissed a girl before, so I resisted my temptations and didn’t try anything. I did tell him though if I was a local villager he would definitely be my husband, and we would spend a very happy life together.

After leaving Bandipur on the back of a pickup truck with inward facing wooden benches and too many people than the capacity really could accommodate I made my way for Gorkha. Gorkha is famous as the British recruited many soldiers for the army here after battling wit hem and being impressed by their strength and courage. There wasn’t so much to see in Gorkha, and it certainly wasn’t nice to be in a town with modern concrete buildings after spending time in beautiful Bandipur. I met a Tibetan there who was born in the area, but moved to Delhi to be a 5 star chef. We went together to see the ancient places of Gorkha. That night the guy running my hotel up graded my room as I had no water, he then asked whether he could sleep on the spare bed in my room! As if!! He asked more than once, and my answer never changed. In the end I practically had to push him out of my room and lock the door!

I didn’t stay long in Gorkha and headed next to Lumbini, Buddha’s birthplace. It was suppoed to be a 8 hour journey or so, but there wasn’t a direct bus, and I found myself in a horrible town called Narayanghat by 9pm so decided to stay the night there. I took he opportunity to watch some cable TV. Normally I wouldn’t take a room with a TV, but I underestimated how much I would be reading (seeing a there was nothing to do in the evenings), so had finished my book, and needed something to occupy my time in a busy, modern, polluted city. The next day I get on a bus heading for Lumbini. We go all of 1/2km when we stop in a line of traffic. The driver turns off his engine. We sit for more than an hour before it becomes known to us there was a road block. Caused by local people protesting against police negligence when a 12 year old girl was killed in a road accident the day before. We don’t know how long we have to wait, and a couple of the local guys I was talking to on the bus tell me it can be some time, so best we get our bags and walk. We end up walking for about 6km, fortunately I was only carrying a small backpack. We pass protesters whose methods of protest include burning tyres on the road. It smelt foul. T was madness. For 6km there was no moving traffic, just long lines of vehicles going in either direction. It takes us a while to pass it all and get to a stretch of road where vehicles were permitted. We eventually get on a small bus heading for Lumbini, but there’s no chance I could have made it that night, so stop in a town about 30km away called Butwal. Butwal is nothing special at all. There’s nothing there. That night when I was getting a late dinner of momo (Tibetan dumplings)I meet a local guy who says he has a friend that is local, but has lived as a chef in Japan for the past 20 years, he says he’ll go with me to Lumbini and take me by bike. This saved me a lot of hasstle. Public transport isn’t as good as in Nepal as it is in India.

We get to Lumbini and I find a monastery that allows guests to stay for a donation. I drop my bags, then we go off on the bike around the larger than expected site. At Lumbini different Buddhist countries have erected a temple in their country’s traditional style. We go to a few of these, they’re pretty empty. I thought this being one of the holiest Buddhist places the area would be teeming with monks and devotees, but there was hardly anyone around. We also go to the place where Buddha’s palace once stood, and the exact place of his birth. The palace is little more than a 2 foot wall of the building it once supported. There was more people in this area. My friend leaves me for the night, but not before he’s taken me out for dinner and too many drinks than I really could handle. I ended up going to bed very early, but then waking a couple of hours later. The next day I borrow a bicycle and go to temples I hadn’t yet seen. I also go to the Buddhist library and museum. Both were a disappointment. The library had only 2 cupboards of books, and about 20 in total. I stay for a couple of hours reading from the small selection. The museum contained only photos of Buddhist temples and statues from around the world. It contained no real artefacts, but only replicas. It didn’t take so long to go round. On my bike I visited Lumbini village. It was extremely poor. All houses were made out of 100% natural materials, mostly mud and bamboo. My friend came to pick me up that evening and took me back to Butwal.

I wanted to leave Butwal the next day, but the guy I met on y first night here, Santosh told me if I waited until the next day he would take me to the near by places of interest on his motorbike. The next day came and Santosh was busy. He asked whether I could stay until the following day. So stupidly I did. And again the same thing happened, he got busy and couldn’t take me. When he profusely apologised and asked whether I could wait another day I reluctantly said ok. Then the following day he took me round for 30 minutes!! 30 minutes!! I stayed in one of Nepal’s worst towns, spending my time and money, watching TV and using the internet for 30 minutes!! I left the next morning by shared taxi back to Kathmandu, the journey took 7 hours, it would have taken 10 by bus though.

Back in Kathmandu I got busy with my massage course again, but this time, instead of spending the 4 hours per day I spent in the first week I spent only 2 a day. This was due also to the fact that the massage teacher, Sushil had fallen in love with me, and thought I was his girlfriend. He kept asking me to kiss him. It pissed me off, so I hooked up with a friend I met last time in Nepal, and went exploring in the Kathmandu valley.

There are some great places in the valley, as we were on motorbike we were able to get to places tourists struggle to get to. We went to beautiful, old, traditional places, Kirtipur and Bungmati. Here I saw really old temples and village people doing their daily things.
Both were very interesting. I saw a women making a woven mat from sweet corn skin, a man carving images on a wooden door, beautiful scenery, and quiet village scenes.

Sushil, my massage teacher borrowed a motorbike from a friend and took me to Chengu Narayan, another superb, beautiful, traditional place, with ancient temples, shrines, scenery and a great atmosphere. We also travelled to nearby Bhaktipur, a traditional place with so many ancient buildings. We were just wondering around when we came across an area that had many clay artisans. I went a little crazy shopping here, buying clay incense holders, that when varnished look like they’re perfectly sculptures wood carvings. I was supposed to pay a large entrance fee to go in some places in Bhaktpur, but wasn’t willing to, and fortunately didn’t see a ticket office anyway.

During my final week in Nepal it was Hindu festival Shiva Raatri. This is the day when all of Nepal gets stoned. Shiva, amongst other things is the God of ganja. I went to the Pashupatinath with a local friend I made during my first week and we went round at night laughing at all the crazy stoned people and naked babba’s (holy men). It was interesting for a few hours, then it got too much of the same thing. Crazy young guys (only guys were that at that hour) who really need to get out more!

I was also in Nepal for Tibetan New Year. During my first week I made friends with a Tibetan lady who owned a bag shop in Tamel. She invited me to spend New Year at her home, with her family. I met up with her in Boudanath where it seems all the Tibetans of the area had come to celebrate together. It was really nice, totally pack and busy, but to see all the Tibetans with their best dresses on was priceless. We meet up, and I meet her daughter. I go back to their house and for the first time since being away I feel like I’m with a family which I have real connection to. Although I’ve been to a lot of family homes in India, they never feel like my family. This Tibetan family did. I don’t know whether it was because of their relative economic affluence, or their level of English, or their skin tones, but it was nice. I spend the night watching movies with their daughter.

To sum it up, I had a great time. I spent a total of 4 weeks in Nepal and had a totally different experience than I previously was blessed with. Nepalese people are so kind, warm and generous. I was taken to dinner so many times I don’t remember. People would go out of their way to help me, and these guys became good friends of mine. No one tried to scam me, all took to me as though we had been friends for along time. I didn’t hang out with any European travellers, as I didn’t meet any. For the 2 weeks I was out of Kathmandu I didn’t meet any foreigners at all. The guesthouse I stayed in Kathmandu during my final week was catering mostly to Chinese and Japanese guests. I stayed in a 6 room dormitory, but for the majority of the time had it to myself. I was also fortunate to meet a super cool guy Lakpha, from Lhasa, capital of Tibet. It was very interesting for me to meet him, as although I have many Tibetan friends in Nepal and India none have actually lived there. Some of my older friends did when they were young, but no one stayed after the age of 5 or so. Lakpha is half Chinese and half Tibetan, so he’s part of modern and changing Tibet. We talked long into the night about Tibetan history and how it’s changing and the Diaspora community. We concluded that it is likely the Tibetan traditions will be lost as daily more and more Chinese flood Tibet, and as the youth follow other cultures rather than their native, traditional special Tibetan.

I left Nepal with an extra backpack of shopping and a framed drawing from Sushil, and travel by bus back to India.

It takes me much longer than expected to reach the order. I completely underestimated how long it would take an ended up having to spend the night at the Nepalese side of the border, after finding the passport control guys had called it a night when I arrived. The Nepal border side, Birganj is a horrible horrible place and I’m so glad I didn’t get stuck there on the way in. Before you approach the town a thick cloud of pollution hangs heavy in the air and there’s heaps black power adjacent to the road. At first I didn’t know what it was. There was tonnes of it, then I realised it was factory waste they had dumped just outside their grounds. Whole fields were black and any standing water was a murky, putrid, cesspit of domestic waste, sewage and factory effluence. I stayed the night in the worst hotel for the past month, but it only cost 80p, so I could hardle grumble, but was glad to leave the next day to Bihar, India’s poorest state. The reason I was in Bihar was I decided to visit Bodh Gaya, the place of the famous Bodhi tree which Buddha sat and meditated under until he reached enlightenment. It took much longer to get there than expected, and I had to stay in Bihar city, Patna for the night. Bihar really is horrible. I’ve never seen as many heaps of rubbish as decaying matter as I saw in Bihar. It’s the type of place you really thank god you don’t have to spend time in.

I reached Bodh Gaya and was quite surprised at how different it was from what I expected. Lumbini (Buddha’s birthplace) was very tranquil, and the temples were in a site of natural grounds, with many open spaces and trees. Bodh Gaya on the other hand was a concrete town with many market sellers detracting from the ambience of the place. They had the same thing in Bodh Gaya, with different Buddhist countries having their own temple in their own style. Bodh Gaya was a very friendly place and for the first time in ages I was able to hang out with another whitey. I also made a Tibetan friend there, and had another friend, a Thai monk who I sat next to on the bus from Patna to Bodh Gaya. Behind the special Bodhi tree a small temple has been erected, and the gounds around are littered with small shrines. Bodh Gaya had a lot more tourists compared to Lumbini. Here were big Buddhist tour groups from Sri Lanka, China, Japan and Korea. I stayed only 2 nights before leaving to Varanassi where I found out a couple of bombs had exploded the day before.

I leave by early morning bus to Varanassi to meet up with an English friend of mine, Lesley, who I met in Tamil Nadu as I introduced her to an organisation she spent 3 months working for. Lesley and I had become quite close and would meet and talk often when she was in Tamil Nadu. We spent 5 days together in India’s holist town, walking up and down the River Ganges, watching funeral ceremonies, bodies burning, and being dumped whole into the river. It was Holi festival when we were there. I’ve heard differing stories about the relevance/meaning of Holi, but that’s now expected. If you ask 10 Indians the same question, you’ll get 10 different answers, and all tellers swearing his is the right version. Anyway, I heard Holi is the celebration is the end of winter, and they celebrate by throwing paint at each other. Lesley and I went to one of the many market stalls selling paint, water guns and rubber balloons. If we were going to be attacked, we would be ready. The day of the festival was mad. We were not able to leave our guesthouse during the peak hours as the local lads take it as an opportunity to gang up on the tourists, especially women, soak you thoroughly with paint and have a go at feeling you up as well. So we had war with our neighbouring hotel from balconies. You mix the paint yourself from a metallic powder. Our neighbours made it really strong, and had imported supersoakers. We completely lost against them, but by the end of it all of us involved were soaked in bright pink, green and blue paint. Lesley and I went out for a walk when it was supposed to be over. The scenes in the street s were made. I think it probably was best we weren’t out with the locals at the time. Indians go made during festival time, especially the young guys. All people were covered head to toe in paint, and also a silver or gold paint they put on themselves. I got some great photos.

I left Varanassi on the 10th March to make my long journey back to Chennai. I said my goodbyes to Lesley and others I met there and took a train for what I thought would be 40 hours, but it got held up, and ended up taking 50 hours back to Chennai.

I had very mixed feelings about getting back, it wasn’t helped by my housemate and ex-colleague Terry who met me in Chennai for some intense cinema viewing before he took me by motorbike 6 hours back home.