I forgot to mention to all of you lovely supporters who have bookmarked my South Africa and Nepal blogs that I have moved my blog onto my photography website, www.wanderinglens.net. The site design is brand new, and my blog is better than ever. Talk to you soon.

posted: 05/01/08

posted: 31/12/07

After having stomach problems yesterday, caused by the unclean, un kept food at the tourist new years festival in Pokhara, it's time for me to head to Sarkuwa. Being sick yesterday has made me very tired, so I woke up late this morning, still fully un packed. I was just leaving the hotel, when Tek, one of the teachers at Janata Higher Secondary School called me to inform me he is waiting in Kusma, 2 hours before I said I'd be there. I grab a taxi to the Baglung Bus Park, and wait for the bus. I'm hounded by taxi drivers who want to take me there for as much as 1000 rupees, compared to the 100 I spent on the bus. When the bus arrives, it's packed, so I am the first person to hop up on the roof, and manage to get a piece of plywood to sit on, which beats the hell out of the steal bars. It's a clear sunny day, probably in the high 50's or low 60's in the sun, and I sit back reading my book and snapping a few pictures. I'm glad I was on top, despite being hit with branches, and coming close to the over head power lines, it was way more comfortable than the crowded and cramped interior. I was an hour and a half late, arriving around 1:30pm.

We hit the trail immediately. As we take a different route than I know, I soon find out we are heading to Bina Mere for the night. Ok. Turns out the hike to Bina Mere is a more difficult hike than to Sarkuwa direct. With my energy low, and my backpack even heavier this time, it proved difficult.

Several times we drop down into the valley of the Khali Gunduki (white river), which I understand is one of the deepest river valleys in the Himalayas. Up and over the hill, just to descend again to cross it one more time on one of the many steel cable suspended foot bridges. There is very little flat ground on this hike, most of the trail is steps formed with large slate slabs, and miscellaneous rocks. We are on the north side of the hill, which gets very little sun, so it's mostly wet clay and mud on the smooth rock surface. I managed not to fall once.

We cross the river one more time and arrive at the base of Bina Mere. His house is at the top. He has called a friend to help me carry my bag up, even though I asked him not to. I carried my bag. Considering the size of the hill, which I didn't forsee, and still recovering from being sick, maybe I should've taken the help. Still feeling fine after the last 3 hours of hill climbing, we start up the mountain from the very bottom, and my fatigue is setting in.

For any of you whose climbed mailbox peak, add a 45 pound pack on, and do it twice ending at the top. That's what this hike is like. Our final destination, slightly below the top of the hill, as far as I can, sits at about 5000ft above sea level.

It's after dark by the time we arrive, and I quickly freeze, still wearing shorts and a jersey that I was hiking in, sweating profusely. I change my clothes, into dry warm winter wear and drink a glass of tea to warm up. It's winter here, and during the day, it's common for the temperatures in the sun to be in the 60s or even 70s on a warm day, in the shade about 20 degrees colder, and at night, especially on the top of the hill, as soon as the sun drops, the temperature drops below freezing rapidly. Tonight, based on the layers of clothing, and still being cold, I'm guessing it's in the 20's or teens. I wish I had a thermometer.

We eat a nice dinner of deep fried fish, stir fried cauliflower and sag (like collard greens), rice and Dahl (lentil soup which is poured on the rice to make it more palatable), topped by a glass of Rahksi, a maize wine made by Tek's mother. Very nice after a long day on the move.

My time piece in Nepal has been Orions belt. It's just above the horizon as we settle in, and I go to bed somewhere around 1/3 of the way into the sky, half way up on a really late night. I spent some time talking to Tek about the stars in the evening before going to bed. The hills here, on a clear night, are a perfect place to watch the stars. On a new moon the sky will turn whiteish due to the amount of stars visible.

posted: 29/12/07

Strike.

Taxi Strike

Bus Strike

Village Strike

Shit ain't right ... Protest

posted: 26/12/07

I left Ramkot this morning. Although the bus was there, and I could've taken it, I chose to walk to Begnas Lake, where the tar road starts, and take the bus from there. Good choice.

I left late morning, and walked for about 2 1/2 hours before reaching Sundari Danda, where a local women hand weaves beautiful colored school bags. In trying to find her, I find out that she's ill, and isn't making bags at the moment. Shame, I really wanted one. I keep going. I don't really know the walking routes, so I'm following the road, and at one point, a guy decides to help me out and point me up a foot path rather than on the road; Great choice. It took me through the village of Pachhabhaiya, where I met Bijaya. He is the son of the owener of Machepuchre Flying Bird Coffee and Lodge.

Did you say coffee?

I haven't had a cup of coffee in over a week, and it shows. I stopped in and ended up spending most of the afternoon drinking cup after cup of coffee chatting with Bijaya. The farm is completely organic, with a vermi compost out back, and coffee and orange plantations. as well as honey. It over looks Begnas lake, and has an amazing view of the LamJung and Annapurna ranges of the Himalayas.

He explained to me about how they pick the coffee, dry it in the sun, at this time of year for more than a month, mill it by hand, roast it in a pot on a fire, and grind it by hand. He showed me how they get honey out of the bee hives, and the composting techniques they use, which makes there farm 100% organic.

After leaving, I head towards the bus rank in Begnas, and along the way a bus comes, packed full of people, heading for Pokhara. I climb on the roof rack, and sit down, uncomfortably on the metal rails. I tried to take some pictures, but the roads are bad, and at the very back of the bus, I had to hang on with both hands just to stay on the bus. The ride to Pokhara is about an hour. The whole way, me, and several others on top of the bus fought to stay on, and ducked under the electrical wires that would pass inches above our heads. Welcome to Nepal public transport.

posted:25/15/07

Recently I was invited to the house of a local whom I've come to know in my stay here. After school we head down the hour walk. He has a small house, on the side of the hill, with various types of crops, mostly to feed his family. His only cash crop...ganja.

There is no electricity in the village, so bed time is quite early, around 7:30. The toilet is a hole in the ground, with two slate slabs on either side to squat on. The house is shared by the family, the goats, the buffalo, and serves as a place to dry the crops. Cooking is done by fire, inside the kitchen, which is a very small room, with a tiny window at one end above the fire, and an open doorway at the other. It's black from suit, and always full of smoke. I couldn't cook in there.

It was almost the full moon, so we sat outside on the second story talking about the differences in our cultures, and I learned quite a lot from him. Most of the conversation revolved around family structure.

In Nepali culture, the head of the household, gets all of the money that anyone makes, and then distributes it among the family members the way he sees fit. The concept of divorce is un heard of, and un thinkable.

The lifestyle is very simple, as is the food. Very flavorful, very fresh, but never changing. Both meals, breakfast and dinner, are dahl baht (lentil soup poured on rice) and some potato cauliflower curry, or mula, pickled white radish. Very tasty.

posted: 22/15/07

In most of the eastern societies I've been to, the family life is a very different one than in the west. Family permeates ever waking moment of your life. They are not just there to call on when you need help, but to share your whole life with. It's not un common to find several generations living under the same roof. Your best friends are your family. Some one to be remembered on a daily basis, close or far, dead or alive, sick or well.

There are many types of family. Not just blood lines. You can become family by choice, or happenstance. You may get along, you may be distant, the important thing is you are family in the end.

Kevin Carter, Devlin, and Phil, you are not forgotten.

posted: 22/15/07

Well, I could talk about the stress, the problems with equipment, the hassles, trying to get things done on unreasonable schedules, the difficulties, but who cares about that shit. I've finally had a calm day where I was able to update my blog, and although I'm unable to adjust any of my photos, I'm posting a few any way. Here's what really matters:

posted: 22/15/07

posted: 12/15/07

For the last week I have stayed with Megh and his wife Manacalla at their home in Sarkuwa. He lives in the valley at the bottom of Sarkuwa, and the school is at the top. Every morning we travel an hours hike, straight up the hill, and every afternoon, an hour hike back home. Can't complain about that commute. On a clear day, the Annapurnas are in their full majestic glory poking out above the massive hills all around.

One evening, on my was home from school, the sun was going down, and the mountains were sticking out. I stopped part way down the trail to wait for the sun to set on the mountains to photograph it, and a small crowd started to form. It started with the kids who were out playing, wanted to know what I was doing, then wanted their picture taken. Every picture I took, they wanted more, and more, and more, so I kept taking pictures, and showing them. They would laugh and climb all over each other to get in the picture, or too see it afterwards. Some other people from around started showing up, and next thing I knew, there were about 15 people all around me. The sun was setting, and the colors showing, so I set up my perch and took my photographs of the magical mountains.

Most of the villagers didn't speak any english, but that didn't stop them from talking to me. They would go on and on about who knows what, and I would talk back to them. One guy spoke some english, and we had a short conversation.

The electricity for Sarkuwa is provided by a 24 Kilowatt hydro electric generator. The electric service is only on at certain times of day, but in my experience, you just have to sit and wait for it to come, cause it's never the same time each day. Most days, I would show up at the school, and wait around until the electricity came on so I could work. Some days I would get power at 1, and actually get something done before 4 when we leave, some days it would come on at 3:45 and I'd scurry to do anything before school closes. Every day, I was carrying at least one computer to or from school to home to work on them in the evening.

The electricity at Megh's house is provided by a 3KW hydro electric generator that powers the households of 50 families, and is only supplied from 5:30pm until 7:00 am. It also has it's problems, major voltage fluctuations, spikes, etc... but in the time I was there, it was more reliable than the electricity in the rest of Sarkuwa, so I would get most of my work done there at night.

For the first time, I've found a place where the internet connection is better than the electricity, and the internet connection sucks. They connect over the CDMA cellular system, and in order to get reception in Sarkuwa, an amplified antenna must be installed on the roof. They have had CDMA for a little over a year now, and until then, there was no communication in and out of the villages except for people making the 5 hour hike to Kusma. They have had electricity for about 7 years now. The area is slowly developing because of the villagers hard work, but with absolutely no help from the government.

There is fighting in the area sometimes, although it was quiet when I was there. A while back, the armed police force of Nepal would come around and rape women and children, slaughter peoples animals and eat them, and kill villagers. This naturally pissed them off, and a group of people started to fight. These are the Maoists. I'm told, about once a year the Maoists come around to the villages and demand food, lodging and money for a day or two, on threat of violence if the villagers don't comply. The armed police also come around and kill anyone who is suspected of being a Maoist. The school lost one of it's teachers a while back, shot by the police for being a Maoist.

None of this I actually saw, just stories being told to me while on one hike or another. What I saw was an incredibly peaceful mountain village, where most people sustained themselves on agriculture, and lived fairly simple lives.

The diet of the villagers often lacks variety, as different types of food are only available during the harvesting season for that food, so day after day, meal after meal, you end up eating the same things. The food is always fresh, and as organic as you can get. Most of the villagers use natural fertilizing techniques, and no chemicals. All of my meals were vegetarian, and were always served with a glass of hot buffalo milk.

Every hill has a name, and the villages are determined by what hill you live on. There is a story and meaning behind all of the names that is passed down from one generation to the next. Most of them are very simple and practical names, describing what the settlers came across in the land. On my way to Pokhara, I stopped in Kusmisera to visit two schools I'm working with, but didn't have a chance to see. There, waiting for my accompaniment to Pokhara, I got into a conversation about the names of the villages, and their meanings. I will have audio clips available at a later date.

All in all, my week in Sarkuwa was an amazing experience, and I've made many friends in a short amount of time. The pace of life is slow and relaxed, and that was very welcome. I had lots of problems actually getting things done, as far as setting up 4 locations with IBoxes, but I did get Janata HSS set up and working, and will hopefully be able to finish my work when I return in a couple of weeks.

posted: 12/09/07

I stayed with a Nepalese family my last night in Kathmandu. They have a lovely house on the hill on the edge of town. The house belongs to the son of the head master at Janata Higher Secondary School, in Sarkuwa, Baglung Nepal, which is one of the schools I'm working at here. His 3 sons, and 3 grandsons, plus two women were there as well. They fed me a lovely meal of Dahl, rice, chicken, green been curry, tomato and pickle pure. I fell asleep in the chair watching tv after dinner. I headed for my bed which was a bed frame, with a wood plank and a straw mat for a mattress. The pillow was about as soft.

We are up at 5:30 an waiting for the micro bus to take us to Kusma. They convince the bus to come and pick us up, with our 9 boxes of computer equipment. The boxes and I take up the front bench. After leaving Kathmandu, the ride takes about 7 hours, with a couple stops for food along the way. The roads are full of busses, trucks beautifully painted and decorated blowing black smoke and braking down all the time, motorcycles, potholes, and half the time it's really only one-ish lanes wide. This is the highway in Nepal.

We wind up and over the hills out of Kathmandu, and stop for breakfast in the valley below. Potato curry, a cold potato pea chili salad, two donuts, and liver and intestines. All but the liver was palatable.

On the news the night before, the top story was the protests going on on the highway to Baglung, which has been closed for the past 18 hours, with people protesting, and burning tires in the street creating a road block protesting the death of a child who was killed in a hit and run by a truck driver. I'm told the road is open again.

On the bus, I got a chance to chat with a young woman named Uma from Myagdi who is studying education and english in Kathmandu. Since Narayan Guru, who I'm traveling with doesn't speak english, it was nice to have someone to chat with.

Driving past the Annapurna mountain range was amazing. Machhapuchre (fish tail) peak dominates the horizon, jutting straight up like a pyramid split in two at the top like a fish tail.

We arrive in Kusma, and instantly become a spectacle. Not only do we accompany 9 computer boxes, I have a nose ring. It's traditional here for the women to pierce their ears, the side of their nose, and their septums, but un heard of for a man to do it. They got a hearty laugh at my expense. A much better reaction than I've had in South Africa less the one Zulu lady in the grocery store who stuck her fist in the air and shouted "More power to ya brother"

Our porters haven't arrived, and only Narayan's wife (I believe but can't ask cause he doesn't speak english) is there. We stack and tie the boxes up, and she proceeds to take away a stack, almost as tall as her carried by a strap on the top of her head. We wait. She comes back for the second stack. We wait. The third stack. This time we leave with her. She has taken them to a shop on the other side of town, a friends house I presume. Two stacks are left there, she takes one, and we head out. We hike straight down the valley to the river, cross a suspended steel cable walking bridge, and along the Khami river for a while. Some time later we turn straight up hill switch backing for about an hour before reaching the top.

At the top we take a short break for some water and a snack of coconut biscuits, similar to Nella wafers, then continue on. We arrive at someones house after dark. I had assumed this was Narayan's house, but found out the next day this isn't so. We sit on the porch drinking tea, listening to Nepali radio while the women prepare us dinner. I write. After dinner, we sleep. In the morning we're out before sunrise. The day was more than 14 hours of travel by micro bus and foot, plus several hours of waiting around, and we are still a couple hours hike from our destination.

I couldn't take many pictures cause we arrived after dark, and left before sunrise, but I took a couple long exposure shots, and I'm glad I did, since I probably will never see the house again. I don't even know who we stayed with at the moment. Another 3 hours of hiking and we finally reach Narayans house and eat breakfast. Then another hour or so hike up the hill to the school.

Since the porters didn't show up when we arrived, the computers aren't here, and the electricity's off, so I can't get to work. I sat around in the school most of the day, taking pictures, being a spectacle for the kids, and trying not to fall asleep. I have a meeting with the teachers in the afternoon to get introduced, and chat about what I'm doing after the kids have left and before they close the school.

The porters didn't arrive, so hopefully the computers will be there in the morning. I'm told the electricity will come on at one, which leaves me 3 hours until they close, then I can hike an hour down the mountain to Megh's house, where I'm staying, and hopefully set up the computers and work into the night. This village has the absolute bare minimum needed to use computers, but it's just enough.

The food is amazing here. I was told today there are three important things in Neapali cooking. Rice, Curry, and Vegetables. How can you go wrong? The flavors are outstanding. I would describe the food as being similar to Indian food, with a lot less oil, and slightly different spices. Lovely. The Nepalese are small people, who remind me in many ways of people I met in rural south east Asia, but unlike the se Asians, the Nepalese eat allot. Every meal, I get fed a huge portion of rice, with as much curry and dahl as I can stand, topped by a glass of warm unsweetened lassi.

posted: 12/06/07

5 taxis

4 Airports

3 Flights

2 Airlines

30 hours later...

I'm in Nepal!!

I've lived through the flights, the waiting, the layovers, the hassles, security, the herds, and every thing else that goes into international flights, and I arrived in Kathmandu this morning just before noon. I left my guest house in Durban at 5:45 am on wed. dec. 5th, flew to JoBurg, waited in the airport for a couple of hours, hopped an earlier flight than I booked to Doha, Qatar, arriving just before midnight, waited in the international departures terminal for about 5 hours, slept for an hour on the floor, then finally boarded the flight to Kathmandu.

The Kathmandu international airport is quite small and fairly run down compared to most international airports, until you get out side, when it becomes packed. The instant you hit the front door, you get bombarded by taxi drivers wanting to take you places. I used one of their cell phones to call my Nepali guide, who told me to stay put, he is coming to the airport. Before the phone call, I asked how much to make the call, and he said he was just helping me out, after I hung up he asked me for money. I'm seeing a running theme here. I gave him a buck.

I realize after I hung up, that neither Sudeep, nor I know what each other look like, and I'm not sure how we are going to connect, but I'm not gonna worry, it will work itself out. An hour or so of fighting of taxi drivers who are trying to convince me to leave the airport with them, saying that my friend isn't coming, I finally meet Sudeep, and he is with David and Zach, who are from Illinois, and were guest teaching at one of the schools I'm working with. They are on their way back home.

Kathmandu is chaos. The whole city moves so slow, that the motor traffic isn't horribly dangerous, but at any given second, you most likely will find yourself in between to opposing vehicles closing in on you from different directions. Even on the sidewalks.

Motorbikes, cars, horses, bicycles, trucks, people, people, people, people, people

The streets are filled with garbage. Massive piles build up, and sit festering exuding a pungent odor at times. Apparently the garbage collectors are on strike, but I doubt that's even close to the whole story. A baby with no feet. Cars inches away from colliding with pedestrians at every turn, honking the entire time. Dust, smog, dirt, grime, filth. Worse congestion than an LA rush hour. There's a charm to this city that I can't describe. I wouldn't call it nice by any standards, but I actually like it.

It reminds me of Cambodia quite a bit. Especially the electrical wires, strung ontop of electrical wires, massed together between cement poles, running in and out of windows, hanging on the ground, and getting tangled the whole way through. The electrical demand vastly exceeds the infrastructure. Skinny roads and alley ways, that only get skinnier, built up to an average 3 story height, one after the next, after the next. Shop after shop after shop. Piles of clothing for sale take up the side walks, and you just walk in the street ignoring the horns.

Gas horn brake horn wait horn gas brake horn horn wait horn gas brake horn wait gas horn stop repeat