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11/27/04 MK Several days before leaving Tibet, we heard about an explosion in Kathmandu. Apparently the Maoists had been getting more aggressive and set off a few bombs in the city, which is somewhat unusual for them. Like many third world countries, Nepal has it’s own little terrorist group known as Maoists. Terrorist might be a bit strong. They are nothing like Al Qaeda or Hamas. They do not have suicide bombers and they are not hell bent on killing. That is not to say they have a clean record. They do explode bombs and they have killed, although they rarely target civilians and never tourists. As the name implies, they are followers of Mao Tse Tung. While communism would be there ultimate goal, they are primarily interested in pressuring the king into holding elections. Nepalese have little love for their king; however, most do not side with the Maoists who make it very difficult for the people. Their favorite method of protest is to call a strike. When a strike is called, the shopkeepers all stay home for whatever time they are told to do so; generally one or two days. They comply, not to support the Maoists, but because they are afraid of them. Because of the recent bombing, which did not hurt anyone, Lisa and I spent some time waffling on whether we should cancel the Nepal leg of our journey. For a long time we’d been looking forward to trekking in the Himalayas, but the thought of being blown up made it less appetizing. After speaking with a number of travelers, we were reassured there was nothing (very little) to worry about so we decided to continue as planned.
The drive to Kathmandu was breathtaking. The twisting and very bumpy roads wound through lush green mountains. Into the side of the mountains the Nepalese had carved terracing so the land could be farmed. The terracing, which from a distance looks like giant steps, cover entire mountains for miles in all directions. I was in awe of the site and enjoyed our kidney bruising four-hour journey very much. Upon entering Kathmandu, the sites changed to that of a typical dirty third-world city, and the traffic became unbearable. The last few kilometers took as long as the first hundred and we were very happy to finally arrive at our hotel.
12/19/04 MK Our health finally caught up with us. Upon arrival I immediately began feeling weak and extremely lethargic. After a couple of days with no improvement, Lisa bought a thermometer and we found I had a fever of 104. Thankfully the doctors in Nepal still make house calls and after a blood test we learned in addition to the fever I had infected tonsils. I was afraid this meant I would need to have my tonsils out and immediately had visions of having to fly home for my second surgery in one year. Thankfully, the doctor put my fears at rest and assured me this was not the case. The doc put me on amoxicillin and a few days later I was finally ready to leave the confines of my hotel room. I had been in Kathmandu almost a week without setting foot outside.
We were finally ready to begin our trek, but the night before we were set to leave, it was Lisa’s turn. She basically came down with the same thing I had and once again the trek had to be postponed. It was now my turn to play nurse to my wife, but it did give me a chance to take my first steps in Kathmandu. Our hotel was in an area called Thamel, which is a town of one-way streets with two-way traffic. Cars, motorcycles, pedicabs, bicycles and pedestrians, all crowd the narrow pockmarked streets, which have little rhyme or reason for their numerous twists and turns. Thamel is a fairly even mix of restaurants, hotels, internet cafes, stores selling trekking gear, and others selling the usual tourist crap. In the 60’s & 70’s, Kathmandu was a popular stop for hippies and today reflects that with its tie-dye clothing and general hippy-chic fashions. In Thamel, you cannot walk more than a few steps without being accosted by people selling everything from tiger balm to guide services. One day, when we both felt well enough to finally walk the streets together, Lisa told a person we were looking to purchase a Thanka, which is a traditional Tibetan painting. The man led us off the main street, down an alley and eventually into a dark restaurant. Something was clearly amiss. He was then joined by two others who prompted us to sit in a booth and offered us tea. He began to explain why it was better to do business in private. Not having been present for the initial conversation, I’m not certain where the miscommunication occurred, but it quickly became clear this man was not selling paintings but drugs, another item readily available in Thamel. We politely thanked him and left.
Later in the day we made an incredible discovery. Laughing Cow brand cheese. The stuff that comes in the little round boxes and has pizza slice shaped wedges of cheese. It was for sale in the local market. This might not sound like much to you, but to us Laughing Cow cheese was our first taste, in many months, of something completely void of any ethnic flavor. We could close our eyes, take a bite and momentarily transport ourselves home. It was absolutely delicious and became our main staple for the next several days.
Almost 2-weeks into Nepal and we were finally ready for the short flight to Pokhara where our trek was to begin. From the plane we were treated to incredible views of the Himalayas, where we were to spend the next week. After meeting our porter, Shankara, we drove to our starting point and began our hike around 11am. Since we started late, we had only gone a short ways before stopping in a small town for lunch. In the Himalayas, a small town means a few buildings, a guesthouse and a restaurant. Over the next week we would pass through many small towns like this one. Many were new and cropped up to cater to trekkers, while other, larger towns, were very old farming communities.
After lunch we hiked about four hours through beautiful green mountains. These weren’t the huge snow covered Himalayas we came for, but they were beautiful nonetheless. We continue to be amazed by the terracing the Nepalese built into the mountains for farming. It covers entire mountains from base to peak and stretches as far as the eye can see. It is a strikingly beautiful site, and equally staggering is the amount of work it must have taken to accomplish.
In the late afternoon we arrived at our first nights lodging where we enjoyed sunset from the deck while writing in our journals. It was an excellent end to the day.
A couple of hours into day two we came across a pre-wedding party happening in a small town. There were about twenty people under a tent playing native instruments and dancing. We were there only a few minutes when the locals waved us in to join the festivities. We danced with them for about a half hour and learned the party was for the groom, while at the same time the bride was having her own party elsewhere. We were having a great time, but knowing we had many hours to hike before reaching our evening’s destination, we had to move on.
At lunch we met up with several hikers coming from the opposite direction. We asked about Maoists but they hadn’t seen any. The Maoists live in the mountains and accost trekkers demanding money. While this might sound frightening, we have been told they are in fact fairly pleasant with their demands, and actually give you a receipt so you are not forced to pay again. Our understanding is that most people run into Maoists and we should expect them.
On day three we woke at 5am to begin our walk up Poon Hill to watch the sun rise over the Himalayas. We dressed for extreme cold but were surprised by the relative warm weather and were soon stripping down. From the top of Poon Hill we had clear views of Annapurna South, Dhaulagiri (the 4th largest mountain in the world), and a somewhat obstructed view of Machupuchre (considered wholly by Nepalese and off limits to climbers). As the sun rose, the colors evolved from deep reds to a brilliant orange. And the snow on the mountain peaks took on a bluish glow that seemed to emanate from within. We enjoyed the truly spectacular views for a couple of hours before heading down for breakfast. Because Poon Hill is one of the most popular stops for trekkers, it is also very popular with Maoists who rake in the money from trekkers on their way down. We, however, were told not to expect them as three weeks earlier the military ambushed and killed three Maoists very nearby. I suppose this information was meant to comfort us, but perhaps had the opposite effect
Much to our surprise we found ourselves walking far more downhill than up, and it was beginning to wreak havoc on my knees. Additionally, my lack of sleep from the night before was beginning to catch up with me. I’m sorry to say I shortly found myself simply hoping for the day to end. There were a few highlights including some beautiful white and black yaks. Yaks are intriguing creatures. They are about the size of American buffalo, very hairy, and have large pointy horns. They are extremely well suited for life at altitude and in fact die below 10,000 feet.
Day four was brutal. Because of yesterdays lengthy and steep downhill, I awoke with burning quads and calves. Simply walking down the stairs in our lodge was near impossible. Had there not been a handrail to cling to I would not have made it. To make matters worse, something I ate the day before disagreed with me. By lunch I had been to the bathroom four times, and another four times by the following morning. The Himalayas is not a good place to get the runs.
The morning of day five was equally painful. Travel like Lisa and I are doing is not exactly healthy. While we are constantly running around to visit places and see the sites, we actually do very little that resembles exercise. Toss in my surgery with six months of recovery, and the last year plus has easily been the most stagnant of my life. I am losing weight and muscle daily. Consequently this trek is kicking my ass. Because of the ass kicking, and because we did not get to see much of Kathmandu as a result of our having been sick, we decided to alter our trekking route and cut the trip from ten to seven days.
By the way, I am in currently writing while sitting on the deck of our hotel in Udaipur, India. The deck overlooks lake Pichola, which is now largely dry. On the far shore, several hundred yards across, is the old city. It is 7:45am and the sun is just beginning to rise over the buildings. In the distance, I can hear Muslims being called to morning prayer. There are a few people walking across the dry lakebed presumably on their way to work. Some are wearing traditional garb while others appear modern. One that I see now is wearing a typical chefs outfit complete with tall white hat. Peaceful moments like this are some of my favorites.
Back to Nepal. Day six included a great deal more downhill. By now my knee was quite swollen and walking had become a painful task. Actually, flat and uphill was fine, but downhill would cause sharp pain and I was reduced to a slow crawl. While day seven, our final day, was to be only two hours, it was entirely down the steep mountainside. Thankfully a Landcruiser was on its way to the small village to drop off supplies. The driver was to spend the night and agreed to take us down the following morning. The journey down the nearby winding dirt road was almost as painful as walking and took just as long. This trip has been a constant reminder of the effects of age on the body. I’m not sure who coined it, but I now understand the truth in the phrase “youth is wasted on the young”.
We spent the afternoon exploring Pokhara and returned the following day to Kathmandu. Having a few more days, due to our shortened trek, we were able to visit the local sites which include several monasteries from the 1600’s and earlier. My favorite part of exploring any city is simply walking the streets and trying as best I can to blend in with real life. The streets of Kathmandu are perfect for this. They are narrow and winding, and lined with shops and outdoor vendors selling everything you can think of. The most interesting is usually the food. This includes all types of vegetables, meats, prepared local dishes, and bags of colorful spices. Since we were outside the tourist area where our hotel was located, we were largely ignored and could enjoy the sensory experience in relative anonymity.
During our last two days in town, the Maoists called a strike that shut down most all of Kathmandu. Suddenly we were in a ghost town. Most all of the stores and restaurants were closed and there were very few people on the streets. The Maoist call these strikes to make a statement against the government, however all they appear to accomplish is in damaging the livelihood of the locals.
On the 21st, we checked out and headed to the airport. We enjoyed our time in Nepal very much, but were anxious to move on.
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