I realize I shouldn't blame you for what India started, but you haven't been treating me much better, I have to admit. And maybe that's my fault -- maybe somewhere deep inside, I seek out abusive countries on purpose. Perhaps you remind me of America. But this has to stop. First the parasites (again, not really your fault), then the massive eye infection, and now the sea lice welts. I guess you thought it would be pretty funny, huh? Catch me unawares? I finally take my belated-birthday snorkeling trip and suddenly I feel like I'm in an underwater sand storm? Real cool, Thailand. Real cool. At least you didn't bloody me like you did the men I was diving with. Jealous much?
So I'm leaving you. There, I said it. Tomorrow at 11 a.m. I have a bus ride back to Bangkok and then on to Siem Reap, Cambodia. Do you know what Siem Reap means, Thailand? I means "Siam (or Thailand) Defeated." Yeah. That's right. In your FACE, Thailand. In your face!
Sucka.
You ain't gonna hold me back. I will survive. Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? Did I crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive...
Now, if you'll excuse me, my sun tan seems to be peeling and leaving moist little bloody spots on my arm. DAMN YOU THAILAND!
Friday, May 9, 2008
Nepal - 2nd day of trek and onwards.
Okay, where was I?
Nepal, second day of trek. We were woken up early in order to catch the sunrise over the
Annapurnas. It was chilly out so I wrapped up before heading to the hill above the guest
house. The sunrise was pink on the snowy peaks. Absolutely beautiful.
Breakfast was served and soon we headed back down the hill towards Pokhara.
Going down was not particularly easier than going up. Every moment I was concerned I'd take
a tumble. My shoes were not exactly the best suited for hiking and gravity pushed my toes
deep into the shoes where they rubbed and blistered. My legs trembled and grew weak. It did
not help when our guide pointed out that the path had been wiped out a year ago by a
landslide that killed 9 people.
Today was election day and the locals were jubilant.
Many passed us on their way up or down
the mountain to vote. As I cautiously took each step down the hill, suddenly a family
passed me. Mother, father, son and daughter. The daughter was in jeans and flip flops and
texting on her mobile phone as she hopped down the mountain side like a sure-footed, teenage
girl mountain goat. I was reminded that many families have two homes -- one in the village
and one in the mountains and were washing the chemicals off their finger so they could vote
twice!
When we finally reached level ground, I pulled out my flip flops -- my feet were on fire.
We plodded our way back into Pokhara. I haven't been that tired in a long time. When we
reached the hotel, Markus and I planned to meet for dinner after we showered and took naps.
However, the moment I got to my room, I lay down on my bed -- all dirty and sweaty -- and
passed out for three hours.
We finally met (after a little internet time) and went for pizza! I had hawaiian. It
wasn't too bad actually.
The next day, I was due to leave for Chitwan National Park. It was a little sketchy, my
travel, due to the election but I was able to find a bus. Some time during my trip, a
mother gestured at me and then at her child. I didn't understand. She said something to me
and I shrugged the international, "What are you talking about, lady?" sign at her. The man
next to me understood her and took the child and put him on his lap. Oh. Well, I
don't really want a four year old in my lap for 2 hours, I think a local can take this one
for the team.
The bus reached the end of the line in no time. It was an enjoyable ride - great scenery
and the bus boys (?) were really nimble and quick with the jumping out the door and
clamboring onto the roof while the bus was in motion. At one point, the bus was so full, a
couple of school boys hung off the side of the bus as we raced top speed down a mountain
road.
Unfortunately, because we'd had to take a local bus, another woman and I who were going to
Chitwan, didn't have anyone meeting us to take us to our respective resorts. We were, of
course, greeted by touts wanting to give us rides. "I have someone picking me up," I told
one of them. He continued to pester me and then when I brushed him off, he told me I was
rude. Oh okay, so getting in my face when I am saying I already have a ride ISN'T rude? My
ride showed up and looked at me with dismay. Or rather, looked at my STUFF with dismay.
He'd come on motorbike. Oh boy. Perching one of my bags in front of him, my big bag on my
back and my important bag (with camera etc) in between us, we carefully made our way to the
resort, which luckily was only a few minutes away. I hadn't been on the back of a
motorcycle in ten years so I was fairly nervous.
We arrived at the resort and I was shown to my room. I noticed a number of staff sitting
around listening to the radio about the election but no other guests. I asked my guide,
Sam, where everyone was. "You're the only guest" he told me. Huh. I came down to sit in
the yard and read for a bit with a pot of coffee (all the coffee or tea I could drink was
free). Sam sat with me. I noticed that he always sat with me -- I guess he thought I might
get lonely even though I was reading. A bit later, we went out for a walk through a local
village and along the river. He showed me that the village was surrounded by electric
fencing to keep the rhinos out. Or... as he called them: "Rhinosaurs". Throughout the next
few days I thought "rhinosaurs" was a mispronunciation until I picked up some postcards and
saw that that was the pronunciation for them. And why not? They are pretty prehistoric-
looking.
We walked back and dinner was prepared and served. It was very strange to eat in a rather
large dining hall all by myself. Sam sat with me but didn't speak. I read. Eventually I
went off to bed as I had a pretty full day ahead of me.
Sam stopped by pretty early to get me up. I told him that I'd like two pots of coffee with
my breakfast. As was typical throughout India (and still here in Thailand), coffee was
Nescafe. I can drink a pot of coffee which is really 2.5 very small cups of coffee but I
wanted to take coffee to go on my Elephant ride. I'd specifically kept an empty water
bottle for the occasion. But I didn't get my second pot of coffee which I found rather
infuriating -- after all, I'm the only guest! Sam walked me down the road to where the
elephant rides into the jungle departed. My elephant arrived and there were already three
people on it: and Indian guy and a British woman and her son. The top of the elephant has a
wooden railing in the shape of a square. We are seated each straddling a corner. Which
means that the Indian man and British woman are more or less facing forward and the boy and
I are facing backwards.
This was not a fun experience actually. An elephant is a pretty lumbering beast which means
I was rocking wildly back and forth, my thighs slapping the wooden post repeatedly. I
bruise like a peach as it is, so I could only imagine the size of bruises that awaited me
(about peach-sized actually). We blundered forward into the jungle, the guide pointing out
beasts (mostly deer) to us, causing me to strain my neck to look around for. At one point,
the Indian fellow decided to make a phone call. In the jungle. From on top of an elephant.
"Hello!!!" He yelled into the phone and continued in Indian. I could not believe it. We
were supposed to be seeing wild animals but with this guy practically screaming, we would be
lucky if we saw a couple of beetles. I poked him in the back, "Excuse me, could you make
your phone call another time?" He looked at me sullenly and hung up. And I thought cell
phones in restaurants were annoying. Then he and the guide started having a long, loud
conversation. Again, I prodded him...hard. "We're supposed to be looking for animals and
you are being very loud!" He shut up after that.
I was pretty disappointed for most of the ride. Then the guide took the elephant out into
the river and pointed out a large rock to us. Only the rock was actually the head of an
alligator. Excellent.
We moved back into the brush when the guide brought the elephant to a halt. He pointed into
the bushes. About twelve feet in front of us -- a rhino and her baby.
How bizarre, I have
to admit. They moved towards and open field, completely unconcerned by the elephant with
three humans attached to it. We followed. Finally my bruising felt worth it. We headed
home. Sam picked me up and took me back to the hotel. I had some free time before my
"jungle trek" so I asked to be taken to an internet cafe. Sam drove me on his moped and I
got online -- to find several emails from friends telling me that i was "famous" -- or
rather infamous, I think. A well known New York based website had posted a picture taken by
my talented photographer friend... a picture he'd taken of me back in December that he'd
finally gotten around to posting on his own website -- but the owner of the popular website
had taken it to use on his site because apparently he likes pictures that are "very New
York." I like the picture but I did not like all the snarky comments left by readers of the
website and it upset me. Also, some of my friends who saw the picture were confused because
the website stated the photo had been taken on "Thursday"-- when I wasn't in the country. I
know it's stupid now, but I was pretty upset. I think I could normally take a bunch of
strangers taking potshots at me, but not when I was on the other side of the globe and
couldn't defend myself. I felt really alone all of a sudden. Went back to the resort and
tried to read and have coffee and not think about it, but it really bothered me. Eventually
it was time for my jungle trek.
Sam and some other resort guys took me to the river where we boarded a very narrow wooden
canoe.
I suddenly wished I hadn't brought my camera with me. But we made it down river
without incident (except for the rather large alligator that HISSED at me!)
and climbed the embankment into the jungle. Before we went deeper into the forest, Sam turned to give me some ground rules to follow in case of a rhino or tiger attack.
!!!
In case of a charging rhino, one should run in a zig-zag pattern as rhinos are large and
can't move all that delicately. But they are fast! If you can't outrun it, throw an item
of clothing, a bag or a hat in another direction as sometimes the rhino will go off to
inspect it and you can get away. If one can't run fast enough or distract the rhino with a
shirt/bag/hat, one needs to climb a tree -- a thick tree, one that a rhino can't knock over.
And you have to climb high because rhinos will get up on their hind legs.
In case of an attacking tiger, one should run and throw a piece of clothing/bag/hat away and
if that doesn't work, climb a tree -- a thin tree because tigers can't climb thin trees
because their paws go all the way around it, which is awkward for them.
We start into the forest, the guide in front of me holding a club of some sort, meanwhile
I'm trying to remember which type of tree I'm supposed to be climbing. I'm not too worried
about running into a tiger as they're fairly scarce, but as I DID see a rhino and her baby
that morning, I was terrified we'd run into them again. And all the big trees around were
of the straight, branchless variety and I have NO idea how I was supposed to climb that.
We walked through the forest and realized that a terrific storm was approaching. The sky was a
very menacing black/green. We barely made it to the elephant training camp before the skies
opened up.
It was very dark and we huddled under a porch for awhile. Apparently this was a training
facility where elephants are taught commands that make them useful in doing work around
Nepal - building and carrying and such. Like living construction equipment. It was
interesting but rather sad as well, since the animals are taken away from their mother and
spend several years penned up with only a few feet of chain to move around. I didn't really
care to stick around. We headed back to the canoe and truck.
That night, I was due to see a traditional show of dances.
The drumming and dancing was
pretty amazing, but the interesting bit was the fact that when the dances called for ladies,
a man would dress up like a woman to play the part.
That was cute -- but illustrated to me
that even the women couldn't take part in the fun. However, Sam explained later that the
ladies had their own dance parties, if you will.
I was off to Kathmandu the next morning. Sam seemed sad to see me go and got suddenly very
flirty. It was the Nepalese New year, 2065. He told me I should come back next year. I
told him I'd try to come back in 2066 -- but I'd be an old, old lady. He took me to my bus
and waved goodbye.
There is something I don't understand about the bus system. So, we wait for twenty minutes
at the bus station, get on the bus... and then STOP 2 minutes later for more people to get
on. It's like people can't be bothered to go the extra half mile to a bus stop, but instead
flag down the bus at irregular intervals -- making bus rides go on FOREVER. I think I
mentioned this before, but it's very annoying. It's lazy and not fair to the people who
took care to go out of their way to get to the original bus station. The "four hour" bus
ride to Kathmandu took seven hours! I was really irritated by the time we got there. Then
a taxi driver tried to rip me off to take me to my hotel and suddenly I HATED KATHMANDU. I
found little to redeem it. When I got to the hotel that was pre-booked for me, they didn't
have any rooms because I was supposed to be there several hours earlier. They said this to
me like it was my fault. Oh yes, sorry my bus took almost twice as much time -- obviously
that was all my doing. Now I had very little time to do anything as I was due to leave the
next day. I was taken to another nearby hotel with a very smelly bathroom. I dumped my stuff
and headed out to see the monkey temple. I argued with a taxi driver AGAIn and made my way
to the temple, which was on top of a very steep hill. I was too tired to enjoy it by the
time I got to the top. Some little boys befriended me as I descended.. but of course, after
they were finished with all the questions they had for me, they just wanted "rupees?
chocolate? pens?" I was OVER Nepal.
I headed back to the hotel to get some dinner. I heard some rock and roll playing down the
street and headed in that direction but it turned out to be a very loud/smokey bar. I ended
up at The Yak Restaurant, where I had a strange dinner of Momos (Nepalese dumplings), apple
fritters, Everest beer and coffee. I went home and watched a little tv -- CNN was showing
some news on Obama and Clinton and the crawl on the bottom of the screen mentioned something
about a Lonely Planet author plagiarizing books -- but I never really found out what that
was about.
The next a.m., I got up to buy souvenirs and get breakfast before my plane ride to Bangkok.
I got very irritated at all the touts in Kathmandu and when it was time to leave, I happily
boarded my taxi (who tried to gouge me, of course) to the airport.
Once at the airport, i got in line to pick up my ticket behind two very tall Germans.
Suddenly one of them realized we had to actually pay a departure tax BEFORE checking in and
raced off to another counter to do so. I asked the remaining German if she'd mind watching
my bag while I followed her boyfriend. It cost about 30 bucks to LEAVE Nepal. Ugh. We
raced back to the line where the German girl was holding her own. Apparently the people behind us were none too happy we'd left the line to pay the taxes (I can't say I don't blame them -- but we didn't hold them up, so relax). We checked in and proceeded the boarding area. I was
sad to leave without seeing Everest -- but I guess there's always another time... and I was
ready to leave Nepal and head for a new country/culture. Soon it was time to board the
GIGANTIC Thai Airways plane and I was on my way...
Nepal, second day of trek. We were woken up early in order to catch the sunrise over the
Annapurnas. It was chilly out so I wrapped up before heading to the hill above the guest
house. The sunrise was pink on the snowy peaks. Absolutely beautiful.
Breakfast was served and soon we headed back down the hill towards Pokhara.
Going down was not particularly easier than going up. Every moment I was concerned I'd take
a tumble. My shoes were not exactly the best suited for hiking and gravity pushed my toes
deep into the shoes where they rubbed and blistered. My legs trembled and grew weak. It did
not help when our guide pointed out that the path had been wiped out a year ago by a
landslide that killed 9 people.
Today was election day and the locals were jubilant.
Many passed us on their way up or down
the mountain to vote. As I cautiously took each step down the hill, suddenly a family
passed me. Mother, father, son and daughter. The daughter was in jeans and flip flops and
texting on her mobile phone as she hopped down the mountain side like a sure-footed, teenage
girl mountain goat. I was reminded that many families have two homes -- one in the village
and one in the mountains and were washing the chemicals off their finger so they could vote
twice!
When we finally reached level ground, I pulled out my flip flops -- my feet were on fire.
We plodded our way back into Pokhara. I haven't been that tired in a long time. When we
reached the hotel, Markus and I planned to meet for dinner after we showered and took naps.
However, the moment I got to my room, I lay down on my bed -- all dirty and sweaty -- and
passed out for three hours.
We finally met (after a little internet time) and went for pizza! I had hawaiian. It
wasn't too bad actually.
The next day, I was due to leave for Chitwan National Park. It was a little sketchy, my
travel, due to the election but I was able to find a bus. Some time during my trip, a
mother gestured at me and then at her child. I didn't understand. She said something to me
and I shrugged the international, "What are you talking about, lady?" sign at her. The man
next to me understood her and took the child and put him on his lap. Oh. Well, I
don't really want a four year old in my lap for 2 hours, I think a local can take this one
for the team.
The bus reached the end of the line in no time. It was an enjoyable ride - great scenery
and the bus boys (?) were really nimble and quick with the jumping out the door and
clamboring onto the roof while the bus was in motion. At one point, the bus was so full, a
couple of school boys hung off the side of the bus as we raced top speed down a mountain
road.
Unfortunately, because we'd had to take a local bus, another woman and I who were going to
Chitwan, didn't have anyone meeting us to take us to our respective resorts. We were, of
course, greeted by touts wanting to give us rides. "I have someone picking me up," I told
one of them. He continued to pester me and then when I brushed him off, he told me I was
rude. Oh okay, so getting in my face when I am saying I already have a ride ISN'T rude? My
ride showed up and looked at me with dismay. Or rather, looked at my STUFF with dismay.
He'd come on motorbike. Oh boy. Perching one of my bags in front of him, my big bag on my
back and my important bag (with camera etc) in between us, we carefully made our way to the
resort, which luckily was only a few minutes away. I hadn't been on the back of a
motorcycle in ten years so I was fairly nervous.
We arrived at the resort and I was shown to my room. I noticed a number of staff sitting
around listening to the radio about the election but no other guests. I asked my guide,
Sam, where everyone was. "You're the only guest" he told me. Huh. I came down to sit in
the yard and read for a bit with a pot of coffee (all the coffee or tea I could drink was
free). Sam sat with me. I noticed that he always sat with me -- I guess he thought I might
get lonely even though I was reading. A bit later, we went out for a walk through a local
village and along the river. He showed me that the village was surrounded by electric
fencing to keep the rhinos out. Or... as he called them: "Rhinosaurs". Throughout the next
few days I thought "rhinosaurs" was a mispronunciation until I picked up some postcards and
saw that that was the pronunciation for them. And why not? They are pretty prehistoric-
looking.
We walked back and dinner was prepared and served. It was very strange to eat in a rather
large dining hall all by myself. Sam sat with me but didn't speak. I read. Eventually I
went off to bed as I had a pretty full day ahead of me.
Sam stopped by pretty early to get me up. I told him that I'd like two pots of coffee with
my breakfast. As was typical throughout India (and still here in Thailand), coffee was
Nescafe. I can drink a pot of coffee which is really 2.5 very small cups of coffee but I
wanted to take coffee to go on my Elephant ride. I'd specifically kept an empty water
bottle for the occasion. But I didn't get my second pot of coffee which I found rather
infuriating -- after all, I'm the only guest! Sam walked me down the road to where the
elephant rides into the jungle departed. My elephant arrived and there were already three
people on it: and Indian guy and a British woman and her son. The top of the elephant has a
wooden railing in the shape of a square. We are seated each straddling a corner. Which
means that the Indian man and British woman are more or less facing forward and the boy and
I are facing backwards.
This was not a fun experience actually. An elephant is a pretty lumbering beast which means
I was rocking wildly back and forth, my thighs slapping the wooden post repeatedly. I
bruise like a peach as it is, so I could only imagine the size of bruises that awaited me
(about peach-sized actually). We blundered forward into the jungle, the guide pointing out
beasts (mostly deer) to us, causing me to strain my neck to look around for. At one point,
the Indian fellow decided to make a phone call. In the jungle. From on top of an elephant.
"Hello!!!" He yelled into the phone and continued in Indian. I could not believe it. We
were supposed to be seeing wild animals but with this guy practically screaming, we would be
lucky if we saw a couple of beetles. I poked him in the back, "Excuse me, could you make
your phone call another time?" He looked at me sullenly and hung up. And I thought cell
phones in restaurants were annoying. Then he and the guide started having a long, loud
conversation. Again, I prodded him...hard. "We're supposed to be looking for animals and
you are being very loud!" He shut up after that.
I was pretty disappointed for most of the ride. Then the guide took the elephant out into
the river and pointed out a large rock to us. Only the rock was actually the head of an
alligator. Excellent.
We moved back into the brush when the guide brought the elephant to a halt. He pointed into
the bushes. About twelve feet in front of us -- a rhino and her baby.
How bizarre, I have
to admit. They moved towards and open field, completely unconcerned by the elephant with
three humans attached to it. We followed. Finally my bruising felt worth it. We headed
home. Sam picked me up and took me back to the hotel. I had some free time before my
"jungle trek" so I asked to be taken to an internet cafe. Sam drove me on his moped and I
got online -- to find several emails from friends telling me that i was "famous" -- or
rather infamous, I think. A well known New York based website had posted a picture taken by
my talented photographer friend... a picture he'd taken of me back in December that he'd
finally gotten around to posting on his own website -- but the owner of the popular website
had taken it to use on his site because apparently he likes pictures that are "very New
York." I like the picture but I did not like all the snarky comments left by readers of the
website and it upset me. Also, some of my friends who saw the picture were confused because
the website stated the photo had been taken on "Thursday"-- when I wasn't in the country. I
know it's stupid now, but I was pretty upset. I think I could normally take a bunch of
strangers taking potshots at me, but not when I was on the other side of the globe and
couldn't defend myself. I felt really alone all of a sudden. Went back to the resort and
tried to read and have coffee and not think about it, but it really bothered me. Eventually
it was time for my jungle trek.
Sam and some other resort guys took me to the river where we boarded a very narrow wooden
canoe.
I suddenly wished I hadn't brought my camera with me. But we made it down river
without incident (except for the rather large alligator that HISSED at me!)
and climbed the embankment into the jungle. Before we went deeper into the forest, Sam turned to give me some ground rules to follow in case of a rhino or tiger attack.
!!!
In case of a charging rhino, one should run in a zig-zag pattern as rhinos are large and
can't move all that delicately. But they are fast! If you can't outrun it, throw an item
of clothing, a bag or a hat in another direction as sometimes the rhino will go off to
inspect it and you can get away. If one can't run fast enough or distract the rhino with a
shirt/bag/hat, one needs to climb a tree -- a thick tree, one that a rhino can't knock over.
And you have to climb high because rhinos will get up on their hind legs.
In case of an attacking tiger, one should run and throw a piece of clothing/bag/hat away and
if that doesn't work, climb a tree -- a thin tree because tigers can't climb thin trees
because their paws go all the way around it, which is awkward for them.
We start into the forest, the guide in front of me holding a club of some sort, meanwhile
I'm trying to remember which type of tree I'm supposed to be climbing. I'm not too worried
about running into a tiger as they're fairly scarce, but as I DID see a rhino and her baby
that morning, I was terrified we'd run into them again. And all the big trees around were
of the straight, branchless variety and I have NO idea how I was supposed to climb that.
We walked through the forest and realized that a terrific storm was approaching. The sky was a
very menacing black/green. We barely made it to the elephant training camp before the skies
opened up.
It was very dark and we huddled under a porch for awhile. Apparently this was a training
facility where elephants are taught commands that make them useful in doing work around
Nepal - building and carrying and such. Like living construction equipment. It was
interesting but rather sad as well, since the animals are taken away from their mother and
spend several years penned up with only a few feet of chain to move around. I didn't really
care to stick around. We headed back to the canoe and truck.
That night, I was due to see a traditional show of dances.
The drumming and dancing was
pretty amazing, but the interesting bit was the fact that when the dances called for ladies,
a man would dress up like a woman to play the part.
That was cute -- but illustrated to me
that even the women couldn't take part in the fun. However, Sam explained later that the
ladies had their own dance parties, if you will.
I was off to Kathmandu the next morning. Sam seemed sad to see me go and got suddenly very
flirty. It was the Nepalese New year, 2065. He told me I should come back next year. I
told him I'd try to come back in 2066 -- but I'd be an old, old lady. He took me to my bus
and waved goodbye.
There is something I don't understand about the bus system. So, we wait for twenty minutes
at the bus station, get on the bus... and then STOP 2 minutes later for more people to get
on. It's like people can't be bothered to go the extra half mile to a bus stop, but instead
flag down the bus at irregular intervals -- making bus rides go on FOREVER. I think I
mentioned this before, but it's very annoying. It's lazy and not fair to the people who
took care to go out of their way to get to the original bus station. The "four hour" bus
ride to Kathmandu took seven hours! I was really irritated by the time we got there. Then
a taxi driver tried to rip me off to take me to my hotel and suddenly I HATED KATHMANDU. I
found little to redeem it. When I got to the hotel that was pre-booked for me, they didn't
have any rooms because I was supposed to be there several hours earlier. They said this to
me like it was my fault. Oh yes, sorry my bus took almost twice as much time -- obviously
that was all my doing. Now I had very little time to do anything as I was due to leave the
next day. I was taken to another nearby hotel with a very smelly bathroom. I dumped my stuff
and headed out to see the monkey temple. I argued with a taxi driver AGAIn and made my way
to the temple, which was on top of a very steep hill. I was too tired to enjoy it by the
time I got to the top. Some little boys befriended me as I descended.. but of course, after
they were finished with all the questions they had for me, they just wanted "rupees?
chocolate? pens?" I was OVER Nepal.
I headed back to the hotel to get some dinner. I heard some rock and roll playing down the
street and headed in that direction but it turned out to be a very loud/smokey bar. I ended
up at The Yak Restaurant, where I had a strange dinner of Momos (Nepalese dumplings), apple
fritters, Everest beer and coffee. I went home and watched a little tv -- CNN was showing
some news on Obama and Clinton and the crawl on the bottom of the screen mentioned something
about a Lonely Planet author plagiarizing books -- but I never really found out what that
was about.
The next a.m., I got up to buy souvenirs and get breakfast before my plane ride to Bangkok.
I got very irritated at all the touts in Kathmandu and when it was time to leave, I happily
boarded my taxi (who tried to gouge me, of course) to the airport.
Once at the airport, i got in line to pick up my ticket behind two very tall Germans.
Suddenly one of them realized we had to actually pay a departure tax BEFORE checking in and
raced off to another counter to do so. I asked the remaining German if she'd mind watching
my bag while I followed her boyfriend. It cost about 30 bucks to LEAVE Nepal. Ugh. We
raced back to the line where the German girl was holding her own. Apparently the people behind us were none too happy we'd left the line to pay the taxes (I can't say I don't blame them -- but we didn't hold them up, so relax). We checked in and proceeded the boarding area. I was
sad to leave without seeing Everest -- but I guess there's always another time... and I was
ready to leave Nepal and head for a new country/culture. Soon it was time to board the
GIGANTIC Thai Airways plane and I was on my way...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Better now.
I am finally on the mend. A week ago after another terrible bout of traveler's tummy (okay, it never actually stopped) and feeling weak, I dragged myself to Bumrungrad Hospital (I'll keep the puns re: the first two syllables of the hospital to myself...or not) in Bangkok. Gorgeous hospital -- Starbucks in the lobby and McDonald's on the second floor, oddly enough-- and sought a doctor. I was seen by a very kindly, elfin, giggly doctor with huge eyeglasses and a tragic comb-over. They ran some tests on me; I had definitely lost more than ten pounds since leaving the States. Lab results came back -- parasite infection. Hurray! Due to dubious hygienic practices in India (their quaint ideas of no toilet paper and sporadic hand-washing) that no amount of Purell could keep me safe from, I picked up some critters who cozied up in my innards for the last month or so. They got to enjoy more of my food than I did, I guess. I was prescribed a heavy dose of antibiotics to take over the next 3 days and to avoid alcohol for six days. I left the hospital in heavy rain and found my way to the train station for a night bus bound for Krabi.
I am now in Koh Phi Phi which is nice but a little too Ultimate Spring Break for me plus it's strange to sun oneself on a beach where who knows how many died 3 years ago. There's a great swath of land that is clearly just being rebuilt -- foundations of swept away buildings lie covered in weeds and there are a number of topless palm-trees.
Woke up to a gang of monkeys surrounding the bungalow this a.m. One let a paw dangle over the porch roof near my face. I high-fived him, marveling at the soft, yielding baby-hand feeling. He didn't appreciate it.
Internet is expensive -- I'm hiding from the sun at the moment and have left Christian to fend for himself, surrounded by topless women under the topless palm trees. He said he didn't mind, he didn't feel too harassed.
Pictures soon, more entries soon. Falling behind, I know. Two of my five memory cards have decided to stop working when I try to upload them. Not good. I'm blaming elephant snot.
I am now in Koh Phi Phi which is nice but a little too Ultimate Spring Break for me plus it's strange to sun oneself on a beach where who knows how many died 3 years ago. There's a great swath of land that is clearly just being rebuilt -- foundations of swept away buildings lie covered in weeds and there are a number of topless palm-trees.
Woke up to a gang of monkeys surrounding the bungalow this a.m. One let a paw dangle over the porch roof near my face. I high-fived him, marveling at the soft, yielding baby-hand feeling. He didn't appreciate it.
Internet is expensive -- I'm hiding from the sun at the moment and have left Christian to fend for himself, surrounded by topless women under the topless palm trees. He said he didn't mind, he didn't feel too harassed.
Pictures soon, more entries soon. Falling behind, I know. Two of my five memory cards have decided to stop working when I try to upload them. Not good. I'm blaming elephant snot.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Darn it.
I noticed that my horizontal pictures tend to get cut off. So lest you think I have terrible framing problems, click on the picture to see it in all its glory or go to www.flickr.com/photos/pixelpitz for the original. Grrrr.
Out of India... and on to Nepal.
Bus was at 8:30 a.m but it was recommended to be there by 6:30 a.m., I have no idea why. I decided getting there at 7:45 was good enough. As is my habit, I like to ask hotel managers how much rickshaws should cost to where I need to go -- since the drivers almost always see a white face and double or triple the going rate. "Bicycle rickshaw no more than twenty rupees" I was told. Okay, I headed out, found a bicycle rickshaw and got on precariously -- I have a lot of stuff. The man told me it was 40 rupees (of course). I told him the hotel said it was 20. He grumbled okay. He biked me for about 20 minutes and I felt bad because he was an older guy and it was fairly warm out, so I gave him 30 rupees total as a tip. "Ten more," he says. "No, we agreed on 20." "Ten more." That's not what we agreed on, I said and he made a face at my money - grimacing and sticking his tongue out. Forget it, I'm never tipping again. I'm just a walking ATM anyway.
The bus was going to be pretty crowded and it was due to be a long slog. I climbed on board and settled in for a snooze. I was in a little trouble because I didn't have any money left. It didn't make sense to get more Indian rupees out and pay 5 dollars for the transaction (at least) for just a few more bucks. I could make do on the last remaining Cliff bar I had as breakfast and some roadside dosas or samosas for lunch and worry about dinner after I get Nepalese money. But the roadside cafe we stopped at for lunch was pretty pricey but Indian standards so I didn't eat. I wandered about taking pictures of Indian trucks. I love them!
We stopped again later in the afternoon, and I bought a bag of chips -- determined to hold out. I had 30 dollars in American money in my pocket specifically for my Nepalese visa (they only take dollars, isn't that strange? I had to buy 10 dollars, but I had a twenty in my wallet since leaving NYC. While at the roadside cafe, I noticed a large group of Israelis standing off on the side of the cafe, snickering and taking pictures at the bushes. I wandered over to find out what could be so interesting. Well, it turns out the "bushes" were marijuana plants. LOTS of them. HUGE.
Got back on the bus for the final couple of hours to Sounali and the Nepal border. We were instructed to get off the bus and walk 100 meters to immigration out of India. Then across the border where we would get our Nepalese visa. It was kind of anti-climatic. Just a big sign we walked under saying Thank you for visiting India. Huh. I guess that's that.
Nepal had no electricity. This was a running problem throughout India as well -- power constantly goes out. Sometimes it's scheduled, sometimes not. We trooped over to fill out forms by candlelight. Then we had to produce our 2x2 inch photos (some didn't have them -- amateurs!) and our 30 dollars. The jerky little man took a look at my 20 dollar bill, held it to the light, noticed a small tear (REALLY small tear) in the border of an otherwise crisp, new 20 dollar bill and refused it. He handed it back to me, gruffly, "No good." I'm sorry, what?!? India and Nepalese money is in appalling shape, and I did often have money turned down because of a tear or a hole -- or faces made when they see the shape of it or the size of the denomination). But flatly turning down American money for a small tear??? MY MONEY? I was SO upset. "But it's MY money!" I said, waving my American passport in his face. "It's FROM America!!!" Just then an Austrian guy I had spoken to briefly at the last stop came over and whispered for me to let it go and come with him, we'd fix the problem. The Nepalese immigration people had told me to go to the money changers. I couldn't believe it. We walked up the street where the money changers merely taped the tear. Idiots. I went back with my taped money and again, that jerky guy through it back in my face, "No good! Bank won't take!" I turned to who I thought his supervisor was and showed him the money. "No good," he sneered. "But it's fine! It's brand new!" "Not my problem," he grumbled, not looking at me. Suddenly I VEHEMENTLY HATED NEPAL. In India, the national saying is, "No problem!" Anything could happen, "No problem." Apparently Nepal's theme is "Not my problem"? Again, the Austrian, Markus, took my arm. "Ask if anyone has an extra 20." Why would anyone have an extra 20? I was the only American there. But I asked, and sure enough, a French guy near me had an extra. Thank goodness. I tossed it at the nasty little man and he inspected it and pushed it through. Then I had to wait outside until it was processed in about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, Markus explained to me that he'd heard a girl get upset about something to do with the process and the petty little men had gotten all Soup Nazi on her and denied her a visa altogether. "NO NEPAL FOR YOU!" She tried again the next day -- turned down again. Eventually she had to go to another border. They called me back inside, all smiles and "Welcome to Nepal!" Oh shut. up.
Now I had the minor issue of no money for a hotel. My plan had been to stay the night and then move on to Chitwan Nat'l park the next morning. Most people were either moving on to Pokhara or Kathmandu next. Markus said he was going to Pokhara. I asked a man if there was an ATM nearby and he laughed. "No ATM here. No banks open for 3 days. Election!" Oh boy. I went to exchange travelers checks. But, when I had received them, the bank never told me to sign them immediately. I had no idea. So I pull them out, and there's no signature already on it, so the Money changer guy won't take it. Frankly, all I had to do was turn around and sign it and they'd never know I didn't sign it the day I got them. But I was screwed. So I asked, can I take money out using a visa (my bank card has the logo). No no no they say. But I did that all through India, I said (it was a great way to use my atm like a visa card and avoid the usual 7 dollar transaction fee because they'd only add 3% generally, and I only take 100 out at a time). Suddenly they realize what I'm saying. Oh yes, that will work -- but not until 9 a.m. tomorrow. But my bus leaves at 6:30 a.m. Meanwhile, I have no cash for dinner or the hotel. This was not bright on my part, I admit -- but I hadn't had any problems getting money out in darkest India -- but I hadn't counted on this election deal.
The hotel guy told me there were many buses to Chitwan, not just at 6:30 and that I could pay for the hotel and dinner in the a.m. That was a relief. But then I ran into Markus and was looking at the map of Nepal and realized that it made no sense for me to go to Chitwan first and then Pokhara and THEN Kathmandu. I should go to Pokhara first. Markus very thoughtfully lends me 1000 rupees (about 15 bucks) and I decided to trail him to Pokhara. Which is a good thing I did because we timed it so that we were on a trek on the day of and before Election -- when all buses were shut down. Dinner of chow mein and sat with Markus and a French Canadian guy and a silent Israeli guy talking (except for the Israeli) before bed.
Up at crack of dawn for breakfast and bus to Pokhara. 6 hours they said. Ha. It was a local bus and we made 3 stops within 1 km it felt like. Or we'd sit for 10 minutes somewhere. M and I were going crazy. Plus he's about 7 feet tall so he was miserably cramped in the tiny seats.
(this is my "going crazy" look + fish-eyed lens = hot)
The bus took 12 hours, careening along sheer cliffs, snow-capped peaks in the distance. The country was beautiful. All the farmers have built these amazing terraced fields down the sides of the mountains for their rice paddies. I must say I was pretty nervous for most of the ride.
(this is a picture of one of the guys who worked on the bus - they clambered like monkeys up onto the roof to secure luggage even while the bus was speeding along. Lots of passengers rode up on the roof as well. I considered it but didn't head up there.)
At one point we hit a bump and luggage came crashing down on M's head. In his Ah-nold accent, he loudly exclaimed, "Luggage fall on my head - NO PROBLEM!" and the bus exploded in laughter and clapping and the locals repeating, "No problem! No problem!"
Sometime after that, a gas can on the roof tipped over, dousing me and everyone around me in gasoline. The bus pulled over and everyone got out for a bit. I decided to find a bathroom -- or rather a private bush somewhere. I must say, that was the most scenic ladies room ever.
We reached Pokhara and a taxi was waiting for us. It was all so green and lovely and clean. Our hotel was great. I think we may have been the only ones there.
Since my time in Nepal was short, I decided to sit right down and figure out a 2 day trek up at the base of the Annapurnas immediately. Markus decided to come with me since he thought maybe he should start light before trying a 10 day trek. The hotel arranged the trek with a guide and we were to leave at 8:30 a.m. In the meantime, M and I retreated to our various rooms for a little clean up and then walked to get dinner in the town. We heard Pokhara had good steak houses and we could not WAIT. The first two places we tried were out of steak and tried to tell us no one had it. But the third place had steak and while I wouldn't exactly qualify what I hate as a steak -- more like some strips of well-done beef -- it was still exciting to eat cow again after 5 weeks. It was a pretty darn good meal actually -- and Markus is good company. Went back and repacked my stuff so I could store all the unnecessary stuff and prepare for the next morning. I think I meant to watch a little HBO before sleep but I don't remember much after I crawled into bed. I was liking Nepal more and more. Perhaps it is "No Problem" after all.
Up early again, stow my stuff in the office and a quick bite in the restaurant with M. We have to catch a bus and it's hit-or-miss due to the election. We head for the stop and wait a bit. I spotted a young man in a Britney Spears t-shirt. I had been seeing a lot of these t-shirts which I found amusing so I asked to take his picture. M. told me I probably made his day.
The bus arrived and shuttled us up into the foothills. We put our packs on and followed our guide up a trail that left me a bit breathless very shortly. Oh my goodness, what have I gotten myself into?
We walked past a couple of farms, children came out and trailed us for a bit -- same old thing - "Chocolate? Pens? Rupees?" The view was amazing but I was a little disappointed that the snow-capped mountains weren't terribly visible. Just a couple faint edges of some minor Annapurnas. Still, it was difficult to believe how huge they are. We were pretty high up ourselves, but they still towered in the distance. We at last came to rest at a hilltop temple of some sort that was empty. I was absolutely dripping. Staggered out of my pack and wandered about for a bit before it was time to head onwards.
In a bit we headed downwards again to a small village for lunch. As we waited for food, we found ourselves inundated by small boys. I got out my iPod and speakers and started a dance party, which then turned into the boys showing me various kung fu moves.
They could not get enough of the music and speakers but clearly preferred Michael Jackson to Stevie Ray and Johnny Cash. They did, however, like saying, "Johnny Cash!" Oh well, what do they know.
After the dance party (which was probably not a wise decision on my part as now I was exhausted but I did get to take a break while Markus swung them all by turns into the air) we started onwards because clouds were gathering behind us. Menacing clouds.
felt the spritzing start soon and a farmer invited us to take cover under his porch so we didn't get drenched. And thank goodness, because I stuck my hand out into the fat and heavy drops and it was the coldest rain I've ever felt in my life. Instantly, the air went from upper 80s to 60s at least. We loitered with the farmer for awhile until the storm passed. Talked about the election and all the parties that were going on. The farmer told us that many of the villagers would race down the hills after voting to vote again in town where they had another home (after scrubbing off the mark on their thumbs with chemicals).
We didn't much farther to go after the rain petered out so we continued on.
We were staying at a guesthouse at the end of the foothills with an amazing view. Upon arrival, we settled in for coffee and a beautiful sunset. M. and I sat there most of the night, watching the lights of Pokhara far, far below.
The bus was going to be pretty crowded and it was due to be a long slog. I climbed on board and settled in for a snooze. I was in a little trouble because I didn't have any money left. It didn't make sense to get more Indian rupees out and pay 5 dollars for the transaction (at least) for just a few more bucks. I could make do on the last remaining Cliff bar I had as breakfast and some roadside dosas or samosas for lunch and worry about dinner after I get Nepalese money. But the roadside cafe we stopped at for lunch was pretty pricey but Indian standards so I didn't eat. I wandered about taking pictures of Indian trucks. I love them!
We stopped again later in the afternoon, and I bought a bag of chips -- determined to hold out. I had 30 dollars in American money in my pocket specifically for my Nepalese visa (they only take dollars, isn't that strange? I had to buy 10 dollars, but I had a twenty in my wallet since leaving NYC. While at the roadside cafe, I noticed a large group of Israelis standing off on the side of the cafe, snickering and taking pictures at the bushes. I wandered over to find out what could be so interesting. Well, it turns out the "bushes" were marijuana plants. LOTS of them. HUGE.
Got back on the bus for the final couple of hours to Sounali and the Nepal border. We were instructed to get off the bus and walk 100 meters to immigration out of India. Then across the border where we would get our Nepalese visa. It was kind of anti-climatic. Just a big sign we walked under saying Thank you for visiting India. Huh. I guess that's that.
Nepal had no electricity. This was a running problem throughout India as well -- power constantly goes out. Sometimes it's scheduled, sometimes not. We trooped over to fill out forms by candlelight. Then we had to produce our 2x2 inch photos (some didn't have them -- amateurs!) and our 30 dollars. The jerky little man took a look at my 20 dollar bill, held it to the light, noticed a small tear (REALLY small tear) in the border of an otherwise crisp, new 20 dollar bill and refused it. He handed it back to me, gruffly, "No good." I'm sorry, what?!? India and Nepalese money is in appalling shape, and I did often have money turned down because of a tear or a hole -- or faces made when they see the shape of it or the size of the denomination). But flatly turning down American money for a small tear??? MY MONEY? I was SO upset. "But it's MY money!" I said, waving my American passport in his face. "It's FROM America!!!" Just then an Austrian guy I had spoken to briefly at the last stop came over and whispered for me to let it go and come with him, we'd fix the problem. The Nepalese immigration people had told me to go to the money changers. I couldn't believe it. We walked up the street where the money changers merely taped the tear. Idiots. I went back with my taped money and again, that jerky guy through it back in my face, "No good! Bank won't take!" I turned to who I thought his supervisor was and showed him the money. "No good," he sneered. "But it's fine! It's brand new!" "Not my problem," he grumbled, not looking at me. Suddenly I VEHEMENTLY HATED NEPAL. In India, the national saying is, "No problem!" Anything could happen, "No problem." Apparently Nepal's theme is "Not my problem"? Again, the Austrian, Markus, took my arm. "Ask if anyone has an extra 20." Why would anyone have an extra 20? I was the only American there. But I asked, and sure enough, a French guy near me had an extra. Thank goodness. I tossed it at the nasty little man and he inspected it and pushed it through. Then I had to wait outside until it was processed in about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, Markus explained to me that he'd heard a girl get upset about something to do with the process and the petty little men had gotten all Soup Nazi on her and denied her a visa altogether. "NO NEPAL FOR YOU!" She tried again the next day -- turned down again. Eventually she had to go to another border. They called me back inside, all smiles and "Welcome to Nepal!" Oh shut. up.
Now I had the minor issue of no money for a hotel. My plan had been to stay the night and then move on to Chitwan Nat'l park the next morning. Most people were either moving on to Pokhara or Kathmandu next. Markus said he was going to Pokhara. I asked a man if there was an ATM nearby and he laughed. "No ATM here. No banks open for 3 days. Election!" Oh boy. I went to exchange travelers checks. But, when I had received them, the bank never told me to sign them immediately. I had no idea. So I pull them out, and there's no signature already on it, so the Money changer guy won't take it. Frankly, all I had to do was turn around and sign it and they'd never know I didn't sign it the day I got them. But I was screwed. So I asked, can I take money out using a visa (my bank card has the logo). No no no they say. But I did that all through India, I said (it was a great way to use my atm like a visa card and avoid the usual 7 dollar transaction fee because they'd only add 3% generally, and I only take 100 out at a time). Suddenly they realize what I'm saying. Oh yes, that will work -- but not until 9 a.m. tomorrow. But my bus leaves at 6:30 a.m. Meanwhile, I have no cash for dinner or the hotel. This was not bright on my part, I admit -- but I hadn't had any problems getting money out in darkest India -- but I hadn't counted on this election deal.
The hotel guy told me there were many buses to Chitwan, not just at 6:30 and that I could pay for the hotel and dinner in the a.m. That was a relief. But then I ran into Markus and was looking at the map of Nepal and realized that it made no sense for me to go to Chitwan first and then Pokhara and THEN Kathmandu. I should go to Pokhara first. Markus very thoughtfully lends me 1000 rupees (about 15 bucks) and I decided to trail him to Pokhara. Which is a good thing I did because we timed it so that we were on a trek on the day of and before Election -- when all buses were shut down. Dinner of chow mein and sat with Markus and a French Canadian guy and a silent Israeli guy talking (except for the Israeli) before bed.
Up at crack of dawn for breakfast and bus to Pokhara. 6 hours they said. Ha. It was a local bus and we made 3 stops within 1 km it felt like. Or we'd sit for 10 minutes somewhere. M and I were going crazy. Plus he's about 7 feet tall so he was miserably cramped in the tiny seats.
(this is my "going crazy" look + fish-eyed lens = hot)
The bus took 12 hours, careening along sheer cliffs, snow-capped peaks in the distance. The country was beautiful. All the farmers have built these amazing terraced fields down the sides of the mountains for their rice paddies. I must say I was pretty nervous for most of the ride.
(this is a picture of one of the guys who worked on the bus - they clambered like monkeys up onto the roof to secure luggage even while the bus was speeding along. Lots of passengers rode up on the roof as well. I considered it but didn't head up there.)
At one point we hit a bump and luggage came crashing down on M's head. In his Ah-nold accent, he loudly exclaimed, "Luggage fall on my head - NO PROBLEM!" and the bus exploded in laughter and clapping and the locals repeating, "No problem! No problem!"
Sometime after that, a gas can on the roof tipped over, dousing me and everyone around me in gasoline. The bus pulled over and everyone got out for a bit. I decided to find a bathroom -- or rather a private bush somewhere. I must say, that was the most scenic ladies room ever.
We reached Pokhara and a taxi was waiting for us. It was all so green and lovely and clean. Our hotel was great. I think we may have been the only ones there.
Since my time in Nepal was short, I decided to sit right down and figure out a 2 day trek up at the base of the Annapurnas immediately. Markus decided to come with me since he thought maybe he should start light before trying a 10 day trek. The hotel arranged the trek with a guide and we were to leave at 8:30 a.m. In the meantime, M and I retreated to our various rooms for a little clean up and then walked to get dinner in the town. We heard Pokhara had good steak houses and we could not WAIT. The first two places we tried were out of steak and tried to tell us no one had it. But the third place had steak and while I wouldn't exactly qualify what I hate as a steak -- more like some strips of well-done beef -- it was still exciting to eat cow again after 5 weeks. It was a pretty darn good meal actually -- and Markus is good company. Went back and repacked my stuff so I could store all the unnecessary stuff and prepare for the next morning. I think I meant to watch a little HBO before sleep but I don't remember much after I crawled into bed. I was liking Nepal more and more. Perhaps it is "No Problem" after all.
Up early again, stow my stuff in the office and a quick bite in the restaurant with M. We have to catch a bus and it's hit-or-miss due to the election. We head for the stop and wait a bit. I spotted a young man in a Britney Spears t-shirt. I had been seeing a lot of these t-shirts which I found amusing so I asked to take his picture. M. told me I probably made his day.
The bus arrived and shuttled us up into the foothills. We put our packs on and followed our guide up a trail that left me a bit breathless very shortly. Oh my goodness, what have I gotten myself into?
We walked past a couple of farms, children came out and trailed us for a bit -- same old thing - "Chocolate? Pens? Rupees?" The view was amazing but I was a little disappointed that the snow-capped mountains weren't terribly visible. Just a couple faint edges of some minor Annapurnas. Still, it was difficult to believe how huge they are. We were pretty high up ourselves, but they still towered in the distance. We at last came to rest at a hilltop temple of some sort that was empty. I was absolutely dripping. Staggered out of my pack and wandered about for a bit before it was time to head onwards.
In a bit we headed downwards again to a small village for lunch. As we waited for food, we found ourselves inundated by small boys. I got out my iPod and speakers and started a dance party, which then turned into the boys showing me various kung fu moves.
They could not get enough of the music and speakers but clearly preferred Michael Jackson to Stevie Ray and Johnny Cash. They did, however, like saying, "Johnny Cash!" Oh well, what do they know.
After the dance party (which was probably not a wise decision on my part as now I was exhausted but I did get to take a break while Markus swung them all by turns into the air) we started onwards because clouds were gathering behind us. Menacing clouds.
felt the spritzing start soon and a farmer invited us to take cover under his porch so we didn't get drenched. And thank goodness, because I stuck my hand out into the fat and heavy drops and it was the coldest rain I've ever felt in my life. Instantly, the air went from upper 80s to 60s at least. We loitered with the farmer for awhile until the storm passed. Talked about the election and all the parties that were going on. The farmer told us that many of the villagers would race down the hills after voting to vote again in town where they had another home (after scrubbing off the mark on their thumbs with chemicals).
We didn't much farther to go after the rain petered out so we continued on.
We were staying at a guesthouse at the end of the foothills with an amazing view. Upon arrival, we settled in for coffee and a beautiful sunset. M. and I sat there most of the night, watching the lights of Pokhara far, far below.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I'm a mess.
Just back from 3 days in the jungle in Northern Thailand and I am covered in mosquito bites and some sort of hive situation. Prickly heat? I have no idea. It's terribly itchy.
But the real issue is that my tummy is still bad after 1 month and before I left Bangkok I popped onto a scale in a pharmacy but as I don't know the kilogram to pound ratio, I didn't bother worrying about it. However, I found the jungle trek extremely taxing and after only a few steep hills I was wiped out, my legs were shaking. By the end of the second day, I took one step onto a wooden log over a stream, my leg wobbled under my weight and in I went. Saved my camera at the expense of my elbow, but what I was more worried about was why I had so little energy. Why was I shaking? Where was my balance -- all that ballet for naught?
At dinner, I asked if anyone knew the ratio of pounds to kilograms. One of the boys pulled out some sort of guide. 1 kilogram equals 2.2 pounds. Which means I've lost somewhere in the neighborhood of eight to ten pounds since leaving the US. I remember weighing about 120 before I left but I might have weighed a little less before leaving because I was having a hard time eating due to nerves that last week or so.
I think I've been eating a lot... but now I'm wondering if it's not getting processed correctly. Or I'm sweating it out. Or I'm not eating as much as I think I am. But it certainly explains why I am so tired. So I guess it's off to the doctor either here in Chiang Mai or when I get back to Bangkok on Friday - for the tummy -- hopefully this skin thing will clear up shortly. In the meantime, will probably try to take it easy and eat well tonight.
Nepal posts coming soon...
But the real issue is that my tummy is still bad after 1 month and before I left Bangkok I popped onto a scale in a pharmacy but as I don't know the kilogram to pound ratio, I didn't bother worrying about it. However, I found the jungle trek extremely taxing and after only a few steep hills I was wiped out, my legs were shaking. By the end of the second day, I took one step onto a wooden log over a stream, my leg wobbled under my weight and in I went. Saved my camera at the expense of my elbow, but what I was more worried about was why I had so little energy. Why was I shaking? Where was my balance -- all that ballet for naught?
At dinner, I asked if anyone knew the ratio of pounds to kilograms. One of the boys pulled out some sort of guide. 1 kilogram equals 2.2 pounds. Which means I've lost somewhere in the neighborhood of eight to ten pounds since leaving the US. I remember weighing about 120 before I left but I might have weighed a little less before leaving because I was having a hard time eating due to nerves that last week or so.
I think I've been eating a lot... but now I'm wondering if it's not getting processed correctly. Or I'm sweating it out. Or I'm not eating as much as I think I am. But it certainly explains why I am so tired. So I guess it's off to the doctor either here in Chiang Mai or when I get back to Bangkok on Friday - for the tummy -- hopefully this skin thing will clear up shortly. In the meantime, will probably try to take it easy and eat well tonight.
Nepal posts coming soon...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Varanasi
Beneath my bunk were two middle-aged men and who appeared to be with their father. The father was not well. He mostly lay there with his arms over his head, occasionally rising slightly to watch the passing countryside when the sun came up. I had a feeling that Varanasi, as for many other Indians, was literally his last stop.
Many Indians travel to Varanasi to die. If you die in Varanasi, you receive instant nirvana (not sure if this is the right phrase). Many others go to bathe in the Ganges river for karma and cleansing... although the Ganges is one of the filthiest river on the planet. The guide books suggest that you dont' even stick a toe in it, yet there are all the Indians bathing, playing, dunking themselves, drinking and washing clothes in it.
Many Indians travel to Varanasi to die. If you die in Varanasi, you receive instant nirvana (not sure if this is the right phrase). Many others go to bathe in the Ganges river for karma and cleansing... although the Ganges is one of the filthiest river on the planet. The guide books suggest that you dont' even stick a toe in it, yet there are all the Indians bathing, playing, dunking themselves, drinking and washing clothes in it.
I caught a rickshaw to my hotel and then went out for a walk. I really liked Varanasi immediately -- the narrow streets and the energy, the history and the people. I stopped to play with some puppies and realize an American couple had done the same. We started talking and then decided to get dinner together. I wandered around a bit more after that, taking pictures but decided to go to bed early.
Next day I stopped at an internet cafe first to transfer more photos. I quickly go through my memory cards. As I was paying, a turbaned man stopped in the doorway. I smiled at him and he smiled back. He was holding a small covered basket. As I watched, he lifted the lid on the basket -- and a huge black COBRA popped up. A very REAL Cobra. It was like a nightmare jack-in-a-box! I jumped back and he gestured that it was okay, the cobra had no fangs. Still. I waited for him to leave. ::shudder::
I spent the day just wandering about. I walked down the ghats taking pictures.
At one point, I stopped to take a picture of a wonderfully huge water buffalo and a man came over to me to let me know I'd have to put my camera away if I continued walking in the direction I was going. I hadn't noticed I'd reached the crematory ghats. I really had no plans to visit them. I couldn't really see anything, for which I was grateful -- just piles of wood burning. Only one shrouded figure was visible in one of them. I made my exit swiftly.
At one point, I stopped to take a picture of a wonderfully huge water buffalo and a man came over to me to let me know I'd have to put my camera away if I continued walking in the direction I was going. I hadn't noticed I'd reached the crematory ghats. I really had no plans to visit them. I couldn't really see anything, for which I was grateful -- just piles of wood burning. Only one shrouded figure was visible in one of them. I made my exit swiftly.
I stopped at a local chai stand with some older Indian men and then proceeded to get completely lost. Eventually I found myself in front of a women's salon and decided to get my scary eyebrows taken care of. "Threading" is very cheap -- about 50 cents or less. And again, surprisingly painful. Afterwards, the ladies asked if I'd like to get my hair washed. I looked in the mirror. It had been a long time since my hair had seen a hair dryer. I agreed. I felt like a million rupees when I left that place, clean hair, slightly curled, bouncing on my shoulders. I headed for the ghats again to watch the evening ceremonies. On my way there, a couple of young boys accosted me -- tried to show me a good place to sit, etc.
At one point during the ceremony (which was interesting... for the first ten minutes) they reappeared with a baby monkey on a leash. Afterwards, they invited me to their father's shop for chai. Why not? I went with them. On the way, they asked me where I was from, etc. When I told them I was American, they asked, "Do you like Goldie Hawn?" Um, okay. Weird. Of all the American movie stars... "Sure, she's okay." "Goldie Hawn is our friend! She visits many times!" When we arrive at the shop, photo albums are brought out. Letters also - ranging from 1998-2006. The photos show Goldie and family in the shop, in a restaurant, etc over many years with the family of the shop. I remembered later that Oliver Hudson and my friend Anson were in a short-lived WB tv show a few years ago "The Mountain" in which they played brothers. I later had to write Anson and tell him that India keeps throwing him in my face.
At one point during the ceremony (which was interesting... for the first ten minutes) they reappeared with a baby monkey on a leash. Afterwards, they invited me to their father's shop for chai. Why not? I went with them. On the way, they asked me where I was from, etc. When I told them I was American, they asked, "Do you like Goldie Hawn?" Um, okay. Weird. Of all the American movie stars... "Sure, she's okay." "Goldie Hawn is our friend! She visits many times!" When we arrive at the shop, photo albums are brought out. Letters also - ranging from 1998-2006. The photos show Goldie and family in the shop, in a restaurant, etc over many years with the family of the shop. I remembered later that Oliver Hudson and my friend Anson were in a short-lived WB tv show a few years ago "The Mountain" in which they played brothers. I later had to write Anson and tell him that India keeps throwing him in my face.
The boys and their father and Uncle were very sweet and the chai was delicious. The older boy offered to show me around the next day if I wanted. I said I would do that, maybe around 4:30 p.m. He said he'd meet me at my hotel.
I woke up at 6 a.m. to watch the sun come up over the Ganges then headed for a rooftop cafe where I wrote postcards and listened to music well into the afternoon by myself. Well, except for one point when monkeys appeared behind me and scared the stuffing out of me. They were about to go through my stuff but I smacked them with a guide book and off they scampered, throwing deeply insulted, "ooh ooh ooohs" back at me. I took to wander after that -- and yet again became incredibly lost.
In fact I had to get out my compass to figure out what direction I was headed. I was too late to meet the boy at my hotel. In fact, when I finally got my bearings, I was near the shop and the other boys found me and led me to their home. More chai, then up to the rooftop for kite-flying. Apparently Sunday is when you fly kites.
I looked around and sure enough from every rooftop there were boys and girls flying kites. It was amazing really.
They let me have a go at it, but the kites don't have tails so they're a little out of control.
I had more fun taking pictures.
Two of the boys demanded my iPod as soon as I had arrived. I had shown them the iPod the night before and they preferred watching "the visuals" over listening to music. So I put on Layer Cake and they shared the headphones. Again, they were watching Layercake and when I said it was time to go, I realized they were in the same spot as last time they had been watching, when Daniel Craig is in a bathrobe up on a roof with his mouth duct-taped. We went downstairs and more chai was brought out, so again, they demanded the iPod. After a bit I said I really had to leave and they reluctantly handed it over. It was again on the same scene. Now, this scene is about 37 minutes in, and I know they'd only had it for 10 minutes so they were clearly fast-forwarding to this scene. Then I realized...
In fact I had to get out my compass to figure out what direction I was headed. I was too late to meet the boy at my hotel. In fact, when I finally got my bearings, I was near the shop and the other boys found me and led me to their home. More chai, then up to the rooftop for kite-flying. Apparently Sunday is when you fly kites.
I looked around and sure enough from every rooftop there were boys and girls flying kites. It was amazing really.
They let me have a go at it, but the kites don't have tails so they're a little out of control.
I had more fun taking pictures.
Two of the boys demanded my iPod as soon as I had arrived. I had shown them the iPod the night before and they preferred watching "the visuals" over listening to music. So I put on Layer Cake and they shared the headphones. Again, they were watching Layercake and when I said it was time to go, I realized they were in the same spot as last time they had been watching, when Daniel Craig is in a bathrobe up on a roof with his mouth duct-taped. We went downstairs and more chai was brought out, so again, they demanded the iPod. After a bit I said I really had to leave and they reluctantly handed it over. It was again on the same scene. Now, this scene is about 37 minutes in, and I know they'd only had it for 10 minutes so they were clearly fast-forwarding to this scene. Then I realized...
There's a love scene just before the rooftop scene. Albeit a very tame one where there's no nudity... nor really any "love"-- just kissing and then Sienna Miller putting on lingerie in the bathroom. But those cheeky boys were watching and rewinding the same scene over and over again!! They were very upset to part with the iPod.
The older boys accompanied me back towards my hotel. I decided to stop and some food and they came in with me. Their "uncle" worked there. I don't know if it was an actual uncle or if he was a family friend they called "uncle" as is done here. It was an interesting meal -- very quiet.
Then we continued on and as we got close to the hotel, the older boy (who I thought was 14 and is actually 19), asked me, "What are you going to give me?" I said, "we never discussed any money." "No, that's not what I meant." "Well, then I guess you get the pleasure of my company." "How about a kiss?" "How about a handshake?" Boys. Same in every country.
Some internetting and packing before bed -- early bus to Nepal in the a.m....
I can't believe India is over. And I'm scared I won't like Southeast Asia as much.
[But I am in Bangkok now and I just had a double bacon cheeseburger at Burger King so I guess it can't be all bad. Oh Bacon, my lover. How I have missed you.]
The older boys accompanied me back towards my hotel. I decided to stop and some food and they came in with me. Their "uncle" worked there. I don't know if it was an actual uncle or if he was a family friend they called "uncle" as is done here. It was an interesting meal -- very quiet.
Then we continued on and as we got close to the hotel, the older boy (who I thought was 14 and is actually 19), asked me, "What are you going to give me?" I said, "we never discussed any money." "No, that's not what I meant." "Well, then I guess you get the pleasure of my company." "How about a kiss?" "How about a handshake?" Boys. Same in every country.
Some internetting and packing before bed -- early bus to Nepal in the a.m....
I can't believe India is over. And I'm scared I won't like Southeast Asia as much.
[But I am in Bangkok now and I just had a double bacon cheeseburger at Burger King so I guess it can't be all bad. Oh Bacon, my lover. How I have missed you.]
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