Chitwan!

Last week, as I was reached the half-way point in my trip here in Nepal, I started contemplating how best to spend the rest of my time.  I had planned to visit Chitwan National Park and the neighbouring village of Sauraha after my Pokhara trip.  However, anticipation was killing me and I decided to move my jungle trip up a bit.  So on Friday 9^th November, I took a short flight south to Chitwan.  The weather was much warmer than Kathmandu, which has started to get fairly chilly in the evenings.  I arrived at the hotel, Travellers Jungle Camp, around midday. It was a beautiful spot, with well-kept gardens and cheerful,  friendly staff who collected me from the airport, which was 30 minutes away from Sauraha.  They sat down with me and planned my stay, giving me precise timings for activities.  This is a hotel that definitely doesn’t run on Nepali time! 

After deciding on my itinerary, I was shown to my room.  I was delighted with it, as it was not only immaculate, but had a bath with hot water. For someone who has had mostly cold showers since the start of October, this alone was a massive bonus to my trip!

At 3.30pm I returned to the hotel restaurant to meet my guide, Salik, who took me through the town and around the local area, pointing out birds and animals as we went.  I got my first glimpse of the elephant hattisar or stables.  I can’t say it was pleasant seeing these beautiful animals chained up as they were, but it was certainly interesting to see them up close.  We kept walking, and we had a close encounter with what Salik believed to be a snake which was hiding deep in bushes.  We think it had just raided a bird’s nest but the foliage was too thick to be sure.

Continuing our tour, we walked along the banks of the Rapti river to an area which was meant to be good for spotting rhino as they came to bathe in the evenings.  However, we weren’t in luck.  Eventually, we came to a museum with a rather small and random collection of bones, print casts and information boards about different animals.  Walking on, we came to the outskirts of the town where it meets the river, where a number of small bars and hotels were situated.  We stood on the river bank watching the sun go down as well as looking at a rather toothy and large marsh-mugger crocodile which was resting on the opposite bank.  As the sun set, we made our way back to the hotel.

That evening, I was brought with 3 other guests from the hotel to the Tharu Cultural Programme.  This was a show put on by the native Tharu people, with dances and traditional music.  It was entertaining and the building was packed out with people from many of the hotels around the village.  Apparently the dancers did the same show every single night!

After a decent night’s sleep, Saturday arrived.  I got up very early to go for my elephant safari at 6.30am.  The place was quiet when we arrived, with just a few tourists milling around.  I got my photo taken with one of the elephants before being shown to a tower to climb onto another elephant for the safari.  I was joined by 3 strangers and the mahout (driver), which to me seemed a bit much, even for an elephant.  However, we turned out of the clearing and across the river, pausing so the elephant could take a drink, then headed off into the jungle.  It was a strange sensation, riding through the trees and bushes at such a height, but it was certainly the best way to see wildlife. Along with peacocks and other birds, we saw a few herds of spotted deer, some wild pigs, the occasional Rhesus Macaque monkey and another marsh-mugger.  Sambar deer lay in dense thickets, chewing the cud, the sun was slowly rising and making itself visible through the trees, and everywhere I turned there was something to look at.  We marched through for nearly 2 hours, but I was disappointed that yet again that the rhinos and big cats had avoided us.

Emerging from the jungle, we were greeted by a crowd of tourists waiting for their turn on the elephants.  I was glad I had one of the first trips in, as I may have seen a lot less wildlife as the day got busier and more people were traipsing through the jungle.

I headed back to the hotel for a hearty breakfast, and changed into clothes that I didn’t mind getting wet.  At half 10, another guide from the hotel and I walked down to the river where an elephant was being washed.  A couple of people got the chance to get in the water and help, and after my guide had a word with the mahout, I was invited in.  I was helped on to the elephant’s back, and I had sat there for only a few seconds before the mahout called something out in his own language, and I received a face full of river water from the elephant’s trunk!  Again and again I was showered by the elephant, until I was completely soaked through.  I couldn’t help but laugh, even as other tourists stood on the banks taking pictures of me.  The guide also had my camera and took photos as I was doused with water.  The mahout began to lead the elephant into deeper water, before calling out something else.  The elephant quickly knelt on one side, making me slide straight off into the river! The crowd laughed, probably because of my surprised scream as I fell off.  The mahout helped me back up, and as soon as the elephant was standing up again, he called for her to shoulder me off again.  I could understand why the people on the bank were laughing as I couldn’t stop laughing myself!

Eventually, the mahout brought me back to the shore and the elephant lay down in the water to let me off.  A few tourists asked for a photo of me after I got back on to dry land, with my clothes and body soaked through.  I was never more grateful for a hot bath than when I got back to the hotel!

After the hilarity of the morning, I was happy and excited for the afternoon; a canoe ride down the river before a jungle walk and a visit to the elephant breeding centre.  The canoe ride took off from the same place where we watched the sun go down the night before, and as soon as I saw the boat I was aware of just how low it sat in the water.  I got in nervously, as I knew that one wrong move would throw us all into the river.  Sitting down, I was feeling a lot closer to the water than I liked, but as we set off from the shore, I quickly lost my nerves and started to enjoy myself, letting my fingers drift in the cool water.  There was so much to look at; swifts and sand-martins skimming low over the river in droves, wader birds rooting around in the shallows for food, golden ducks flying from the banks in couples, a mongoose diving into the rocky areas of the shore looking for snakes or bird eggs, and a number of crocodiles that were either lying in the sun or slipping into the water and swimming right under the boat!  I was lucky enough to see another type of crocodile, the gharial, which has a long, thin snout and is a fish-eating croc, which posed no threat.  The marsh-muggers we saw were huge, and I wasn’t sure I liked being quite so close to them.

The canoe ride was enjoyable, and soon we were steered towards a bank to disembark and continue the journey on foot.  With just my guide with me, it was easy to slip through the vegetation quietly, picking wild plums as we went, and it was nice to get to see more wildlife this way.  I imagine that with a group, it would have been much harder to see anything, but we kept quiet as we walked.  A wild pig ran across our path, leaving behind a wake of destruction where it had been digging around for food.  We saw more spotted deer, and were right above a marsh-mugger as it lay on the bank soaking up the sun.  We went deeper into the jungle and I came across a water snake skin, perfectly intact, with even the eye-caps still in place. 

Walking further, we didn’t see much but we became aware of a sharp smell.  The guide told me that this was the scent of a rhino.  We kept going along the path, until suddenly the guide threw his arm in front of me and we quickly turned back the way we came, half running up the trail.  We had been less than 5 feet from a rhino, far too close for comfort.  We ran back to a thicket where I was told to quickly climb a tree and stay there until it was safe.  The guide moved forward again, and we were surprised to find 3 army soldiers coming along the path, heading towards the rhino.  My guide stopped them and warned them, pointing out the grey mass lurking in the bushes.  From my spot up the tree, I could just see its back and ears through the vegetation.  Slowly, the soldiers moved forward, beating sticks against trees to spook the rhino and encourage it to move away from the trail.   Eventually, it ambled off deeper into the jungle, and I was helped out of my perch to continue the hike.  Talk about a walk on the wild side!

A couple of monkeys, birds and termite mounds later, we emerged out of the jungle and headed across a clearing towards the elephant breeding centre.  Lots of baby elephants stood with their mothers as the staff threw down massive bundles of fresh grass for them to eat.  It was even worse to see the little ones chained to posts, and some clearly wanted to get closer to the people standing watching them.  I was able to get some beautiful photos of them though, and after a while my guide and I turned away and headed back to Sauraha.

The final morning of my trip was another early one, as I was up to go bird-watching at 6.30am.  It was very misty, which didn’t make it very easy to see birds, although I did see some gorgeous white egrets and storks by the river, along with smaller birds which hopped along the path in front of us.  Again, as it was so early it was still very quiet, but as we walked on we came across a few groups who were also out bird-watching.  I was surprised that there was any birds left to see, with the noise some of the people were making! I suppose the time spent running around in fields and poking around in hedgerows as a youngster had taught me to keep quiet when looking for animals and birds, but a few people in the groups clearly hadn’t the sense to keep the noise down!

After the walk, I was greeted with another filling breakfast before heading off to my room to pack my things, read for a while, and generally take it easy until check-out at 12pm.  I had a last walk around the town before I was collected by the hotel staff and taken back to the airport for my flight home. 

I really can’t stress just what a brilliant trip it was.  Before booking it, I had started to doubt if I would go at all, but I’m so grateful that I did.  It was a fantastic, unforgettable experience!, and one that I would recommend to anyone.

Allllll By Myyyyseelllllf

This post is less of a ‘Here’s what I did this week’ post and more of a philosophical one.  Bear with me.

Independence has always been an important aspect of my character.  As a youngster I didn’t mind my own company, and during the tempestuous teenage years (Oh the joys! The heart-breaks! The betrayals! The multitude of exclamation marks in my diary!!) I found that being alone was often preferable to company.  Now, don’t get me wrong; I love the time I spend with friends, family, and even making new acquaintances and forming new relationships.  These are the times that are memorable, that make each day different and new and exciting.  Sharing an experience is sometimes the best part of it, and I’m so grateful for the people I share these things with.  But sometimes, other people bring drama, and sometimes I need to take a break from it all, to evaluate, assess, and then go back for round 2.

If there is something I have learned over the years, it is that not only do I like having time to myself, but that I need it to keep hold of my sanity.   Whether I’m curled up in a blanket with a riveting read, or belting out cheesy pop songs in an empty house, or driving my car out in the countryside, I always find comfort in knowing that when I am alone, there is nobody expecting anything of me, no-one berating me for misspent time, or pulling me out of my reverie to return back to the real world.   Especially after my job finished in September, I knew the difficult questions about the future would start.  And it is these questions, or perhaps the expectations of concrete answers, that made me want to take a life-pause, and get away to consider my uncertain future, alone.  So here I am, in Nepal.

A lot of people used the world ‘brave’ to describe my trip, proclaiming that they could never do it alone.  Like my choice to be independent was something worthy of praise rather than the result of a somewhat-selfish need to do things the way I wanted without anyone to oppose.  So I disagreed quickly and brushed it off.  I have never seen anything else particularly brave in it because I knew I would be among friends if things got tough, and that even thousands of miles away, my closest friends and family were only a quick message away.  In this sense, I would never be alone when I needed someone, so I had nothing to fear.  As for natural disasters/accidents etc, a stranger summed up my own feelings by saying, ‘If you’re born to be shot, you’ll never die of drowning.’

However, when I came to Nepal, I didn’t realise that there would be any question about me feeling independent, or that new and different expectations might arise from being here.  Ah, the wilful naivety! Unless we become hermits, caring for nobody and with nobody to care for us, we must always be able to account for ourselves, where we have been and what we have done.  I expected to come and go here as I please, without having to give reasons or agendas.  I have to admit, for the first few weeks, I found the reality tough.  I had the occasional feeling of a stroppy teenager (a decade late, might I add), thinking, ‘Why do I have to say where I’m going? It doesn’t MATTER if I’m late/early/not there, why do they need to know what I’m doing and why?’  What I forgot was that other people might actually care about where I am, or why I am going; even the people who were strangers to me less than 6 weeks ago.  But then again, I misjudged the kindness and consideration of those around me, and I have since learned to be grateful for their care instead of thinking their curiosity was driven by a need to be in control. 

In recent weeks, I found myself making myself even less independent by relying on others to plan things for me, to make my visit more exciting and memorable.  Somehow I got it into my head that I couldn’t do these things alone.  I was giving up my freedom willingly!  These other people rose to the task admirably and helped me have days worth writing about, rather than those which I spent doing laundry or reading the news online.  (Not that the latter were bad days, in fact many were very comfortable and happy, but they were just not worth noting.)  But it took a passing comment from my brother to wake me up.  He simply said, ‘You can do anything you want’.  And it’s true. 

After that, I started thinking about my time here.  If there were things I didn’t want to do, I didn’t have to do them.  I had worried about my trips being planned for me and not being what I expected them to be, but then realised that when the decisions were left in my own hands, I could do whatever I wanted.  I took back the control that I had given away so freely.  I booked a spa in Pokhara for three days later this month, because when I imagined going there I saw myself spending time in that particular place.  I moved up my trip to Chitwan National Park to this weekend because it seemed as good a time as any and I didn’t feel like waiting.  Suddenly, I started to get back the feeling of independence I had felt when I booked my tickets for Nepal all the way back in May.   This was good! This was the way things were meant to be all along!  If I didn’t sleep well one night, there was nothing to stop me from having a rest day to myself to make up for it.  If I wanted to make a trip to Thamel just for a change of scenery, all I had to do was make the decision and go.  The beauty of this trip was in my sense of independence, and until this week I had felt like I had lost that.  I realised that my mini-moods about not having freedom were my own fault, and that if I wanted things to change, I was the one that had to do something about it.

Of course, there are times that my behaviour might seem odd.  My host family may wonder not only about me taking trips on my own, but why I spend hours reading or writing alone in my room.  But this had always been part of my plan.  To give myself time to share what I have been doing with people back home, which I hadn’t done so well the first time here in Nepal.  Or just to lose myself in beloved book that I hadn’t had the space or inclination to read at home because life (or 'How I Met Your Mother') got in the way.  Or to plan for my future, a plan which is starting to take shape and should be more fully formed by the time I get home in 6 weeks.  But as I plan ahead, I already know that my independence will be a predominant feature –  finding a job, getting my own place, and basically becoming a fully-fledged adult.  Admitting it is the first step... I am not a teenager, or a carefree student anymore.  I am a GROWN-UP.   I have to PAY BILLS and CLEAN ALL THE THINGS and BE RESPONSIBLE! (click here to see what on earth I’m going on about if you don’t get the reference.)

The times when I visit beautiful temples or shop in the city or take a weekend to visit the jungle are the times that are worth sharing and will be what I remember most from this trip.  But the times when I can cut myself off from the world entirely are the times when I feel most like myself, and I can see what lies ahead more clearly.  When I think about my first trip here, it was time spent evaluating and assessing that really changed me.  I’m hoping that this time will be no different, and maybe in the future I won't need to take time off away from the world to figure out who I am and what I'm doing.  I'll just know.

Party Time in Nepal!

Around the country, people have been enjoying Dasain, a fifteen-day celebration which is the country’s biggest festival.  People eat special food, spend time visiting each other’s houses and have a little bit of raksi, homemade Nepali wine!  I lost count of the amount of invitations I received from people, even those I barely know, asking me to come to their homes and share their food.  As I have already said, Nepali generosity goes above and beyond all expectations. 

October 23^rd and 24th marked the main days of the festival, and the place was buzzing with activity.  On Tuesday 23^rd, I set off for Sirutar once again to see my family there, as well as the Shrestha family in Sirutar, who invited me to receive tika.  This is a mixture of rice, yoghurt and red powder called sindur which is placed on the forehead.  Tika represents the all-seeing third eye, and Hindu ceremonies are often marked with this blessing.  The more recognisable bindis, or dots worn on women’s foreheads, also represent this third eye, and have become a fashion accessory as well as a representation of divine protection.

Once I finished there, I headed back to Gatthaghar to meet with the headmistress of the Astha Women School, a school for those who were unable to finish their education when they were young.  She invited me to her home as well, and I was given a generous meal there.

The following day was spent visiting my host’s extended family and neighbours, and on this day I received tika no less than 5 times!  It was a nice feeling to be included in this practice, and on receiving it each time, I was given a handful of beaten rice to eat, as well as a piece of fruit, some flowers in my hair, and some Nepali money.  To be honoured this way is something the majority of tourists here in Nepal can’t experience, and I really appreciated being a part of it.

Talking of exclusive access, on Saturday 20^th October I took a rather long journey up high in the Kathmandu hills to a Hindu temple called Palanchok Bhagwati.  I was able to witness the ringing of temple bells, the huge procession of people through the building, each placing marigolds and gifts down for the gods and goddesses there.  To be honest, some practices are completely beyond my comprehension, but I watched with interest.  However, when I was inside the temple, I had to make a hasty exit from the place when I realised a little black goat I had watched being blessed earlier was about to be sacrificed.  Even as a meat-eater, and someone who has actually eaten goat, this was too grotesque to handle and I had to leave.  However, as much as I may hate it, it is seen as an essential part of the religious rites here.  Maybe it won’t always be that way, but it’s not for me to turn my nose up at practices I don’t understand.   I just couldn’t bear to witness it. 

Religion is something from which I have always been separate; merely an observer on the practices and customs of each one I encountered.  Faith and worship often confuse and confound me; if you are Christian, looking at Hindu and Buddhist practices must have the same effect.  Similarly, explaining Christian beliefs to a Hindu or Buddhist, or any other faith, can often lead to the same bewilderment.  However, being separate from religions has its benefits.  I can watch a Christian service, take part in a Hindu ritual, visit a Buddhist monastery, and view each as simply a culture’s way of making sense of the inexplicable; the mysteries in life.  Some people choose to reject religion altogether, or to refuse to learn about different faiths in case doing so shakes their own belief, but I think this is simply a way to close yourself off to a rich world of views.  Where is the capacity for appreciating a culture which is so tightly bound in its faith if one rejects religion altogether?

I’m glad that I’ve learnt to be sensitive to other world views now even if they aren’t compatible with my own, which is definitely something I have noticed more in myself since my first trip to Nepal.  Who am I to say who is wrong or right? If someone wants to worship God, or many gods, or goddesses, or spirits, how can I possibly know which is right?  We’re all just making sense of the world in the way which suits us best.  If faith gives comfort, joy, something to celebrate, or even the motivation to do good for others, then why not embrace it?  By opening my mind and allowing myself to learn about various religions and their practices, it has made me more tolerant and accepting of what I see.  I know it has made me a better person and I’m sure it would do the same for anyone else who gives it a try.

The Garden of Dreams

It was somewhere I had walked past countless times but never gone in. On Sunday morning, after a late night in Thamel, I decided to visit the Garden of Dreams to relax and unwind. As soon as I stepped through the gate into the courtyard, I felt sorry I had walked past so many times. It was stunning, an oasis in the midst of the chaos of Thamel. Butterflies, fountains, ponds, gorgeous architecture; it was a feast for the eyes. After so much dust, dirt and detritus around Kathmandu, here was a real gem. Immediately, I started snapping photos to capture the beauty, though I knew this would definitely not be my last visit here.

After walking around, I aimed for the lawns where mats had been laid out for people to recline in the sunshine or shade. It was a divine find, so relaxed and calm. My only issue was that I had not brought my headphones to listen to music and drown out the ever-present background noise of cars and bikes on the busy streets. This didnt affect the dreamy quality of the place though. I saw a lot of people come through; lone travellers, couples, westerners and Nepalis alike. It was exactly what I needed.

As usual, my stomach decided that it wanted to move on and get something to eat, so I made my way to the Kaiser café, which is in part of the garden and overlooks the grounds. I was seated inside upstairs and was grateful for the cool area out of the midday sun. I ordered my usual mango juice (an absolute favourite for me here in Nepal) and Steak A La King. Although the prices are quite steep, the food is excellent, both beautifully presented and tasty. I would recommend that you don't go less than ''medium' on the steak though, as mine was a bit too rare. I was also given more food than necessary, with complimentary breads while I waited. I would recommend you go when you're really hungry!

After the steak, it was hard to resist the delicious-looking chocolate cake which was on display. This was the first taste of chocolate that I'd had since *gasp* I left the UK! It was like manna from heaven, beautiful. With all eaten, and my stomach that little bit too full, I went back to the lawns and found a vacant mat to lie on for an hour or so in the sunshine. I may have even dozed off at one point. It really was such a relaxed place, I felt so safe and comfortable. I know now that when I visit Thamel and need somewhere to chill out for a few hours, this is the place to go!

Sirutar, THE SEQUEL

It’s a remarkable thing to me that I have been made so welcome again here in Nepal.  People I haven’t seen in two years are so keen to open up their homes to me, to offer me tea and food and whatever else I might need.  Nepali generosity knows no bounds. 

Last week I was invited back to the village which I first called home here in Nepal; Sirutar.  Not far from where I am currently staying (a 45 minute walk, I discovered), Sirutar was where I spent most of my time when I was in Nepal two years ago.  I made friends there, both with my fellow volunteers and with the locals.  Going back without the other volunteers was daunting, as I could always rely on them to pick up the conversation when I let it drop, but as I walked through Kausaltar, Balkot and on towards Sirutar, I felt more comfortable and at home.  I recognised the way, and was glad that my sense of direction and my memory hadn’t failed me.  Soon I could see the houses, shops and fields that marked the village I knew so well. As usual, I got a few questioning stares as I passed, but I marched on regardless, fixed on my goal; the Thapa family’s house, where I used to live.  When I saw it, I was so pleased to note that it was just how I remembered it.  I walked around to the back gate and called out to Buwa, the father of the house.  He looked surprised to see me but he told me later that he had been aware that I was coming.  I was greeted as a family member once again, and made to feel at home. I was so pleased to see my Nepali family again, and to catch up with them on all that had happened since I left in 2010. 

Nika, the German Shepherd who I had carried in my arms as a pup on my last day here, had since grown into a beast of a dog, but still recognised me and happily wagged her tail and barked to welcome me back. 

I was sad to hear of the grandmother’s passing a few months before my arrival in Nepal, as Hajuraama had been an entertaining and memorable character, and I'm sure she will be fondly remembered by all of the Platform2 volunteers who had the fortune to meet her. 

My Nepali brother Suraj showed me lots of photos on his computer to help illustrate his stories of things that had happened since 2010.  The most notable event was his sister Sabina’s wedding, a bright, colourful celebration which, I am told, hosted around 700 people!  The house was festooned with garlands of flowers, and a marquee was set up in the adjacent field for guests to sit, eat, drink and generally enjoy the festivities.  I was disappointed to have missed what was clearly a grand occasion but the photos were still a good way to understand the rituals and appreciate the day.

Suraj also showed me pictures of some of his travels in Nepal, including Pokhara, which is on my list of places to visit.  It was good to see his pictures before going myself as it made me look forward to the trip a little bit more. 

As some chores needed to be done around the house, I took the time to walk over to the work site where the Platform2 volunteers had been building a new school for the local children.  The old school had been a disgrace, with no light, dust and dirt everywhere and holes in the floor on the upper levels, so children could put their hands through the ceiling of the class below!  I walked towards the school with a heavy sense of anticipation.  The last update I had heard about the building was that it was still not completed and that the children were still studying in the old school.  If this had been the case, I would have been so disheartened, especially as so many people were waiting on me to send back photos to let them know of the construction’s progress.  We had worked hard there for 10 weeks, and to think it was for nothing was too much to take.  As I got nearer though, I could hear children’s voices, despite it being nearly 4.30pm.  Some older students were still in the building as I arrived.  I started to take pictures and was greeted by Basanta, a member of another host family who looked after my friends Rory and James during their stay.  He explained about the building’s progress and confirmed that the other school was closed and this one was being used now, despite the fact that it had still another year or two to go before completion.  I took more photos, keen to show the other volunteers at home exactly what I was seeing.  I knew from experience just how frustrating it was to not have any news or pictures to update us in the UK, and was determined to make sure I captured everything I could for the folks at home. 

As we walked away, I saw the old school, now in an even further state of disrepair. Thankfully it was locked up and out of use.  Frankly, it wouldn’t have been fit for animals in the UK, never mind children. And speaking of animals, there had been a dog which used to stay close to us as we worked at the site two years ago.  We had fallen in love with this cheeky chap, and I was so keen to see him again, but had a feeling he may not still be roaming the streets of Sirutar.  I looked behind me as I left the school, and there curled up in the sunshine was the rather-inappropriately-named Poopy!  I whistled to him, and he opened his eyes, wagged his tail and got up to trot over and greet me.  Oh, how glad I was to see him! It was just amazing, and I realised he was a lot more resilient than we gave him credit for.  Good for you, Poopy, you Cheeseball-eating hound!

After the excitement of seeing the dog alive and well, Basanta kindly invited me to his house for tea.  I was grateful for the hospitality shown to me and was glad to take pictures there to show Rory and James of the changes when I had the opportunity to do so.  I didn’t stay long, but it is just further proof of Nepali generosity; everyone here is so keen to invite me in and give me whatever they can offer.  

I went back to the Thapas for dinner, and then was taken home to Gatthaghar on the back of Suraj’s motorbike.  I went to bed that night feeling so grateful and happy to have taken the time to go back to Sirutar and spend time with the people who were so kind to me in 2010.  It certainly won’t be my only visit there during this stay!