Home is where...I am

With the aid of advanced technology such as fancy touchscreens and Madagascar 2, my final flight from Incheon International Airport in South Korea passed largely without a hitch.

Descending into the Seattle area at around noon, I was staggered. I could see the ground, there was water (and it was blue), there were real cloud formations, and 'mountains' (large hills now) miles and miles away that I could see just as clearly as if I was on them.

As I was checking my tire pressure yesterday, it started raining, and I didn't care in the slightest. It was fantastic.

My cough is subsiding. I took a hot shower. There was electricity all day. My cell phone works beautifully.

To all of my Nepali comrades reading this, my point is not to 'rub it in.' It's just that the people in Seattle take things like clean air, and above all, rain, for granted. And rain is wonderful.

I'll never forget this trip, nor the friends I've made. I hope to go back again someday soon.

//SHAMELESS PLUG//

If you enjoyed reading this blog at least a little bit, then you might enjoy what I'm planning next. This summer, I'm planning on taking a road trip across much of the USA, and spending as little money as possible. I'll be taking a fancy camera with me, seeing sights, camping, and hopefully encountering silly things to write about.

Look for signs of it around June and July.

//END SHAMELESS PLUG//

Until then, thank you all so much for joining my dad and I on our journey.

All the best,

Carey Rose

The Last Day in Kathmandu

...was extremely busy.

Itinerary:

-Massage
-Haircut
-Pick up photos
-Pick up Jamuna
-Independent Living Center
-DHRC (I don't remember what it stands for)
-Hopeful Home Orphanage
-Say our goodbyes at DNC
-Drop Jamuna off
-Get lost on the way back to Sanepa
-Go out to dinner
-Pack
-Update the blog

Right now, I'm uploading photos. The upload speed is reading in Bps (Bytes per Second). That means I'm uploading at less than one kilobyte per second. *sigh*

I don't think I have the energy to post details. But look at the photos, they're alright. And they have captions.

Bagamati and Hopeful Home

-Carey

Odds and Ends

From The Humble Taxi, and Good Times

The humble Maruti 800 is as ubiquitous in Kathmandu as Starbucks cups are in Seattle. They also, I'd wager, match up nicely in regards to build quality / sturdiness.

The Maruti 800 has been manufactured since the mid 1980s (still manufactured today), and has remained largely unchanged since that time. Each is equipped with an 0.8 liter 3-cylinder engine that puts out 37 horsepower, although with the average cab driver's propensity for lugging the little engine, most probably see around 15 horses at any given time.

The best way I can think of to describe this vehicle to the average American is as a Geo Metro 'Lite.' Its diminutive exterior dimensions hide away a remarkable ability to comfortably seat four adults (and uncomfortably seat many more). The interior of most cabs lacks carpeting, and they all share a similar aversion to proper idle (or idling at all) and also exhibit rather intrusive and troubling transmission noise.

Also, it seems that a cab driver's worth is largely measured in gauche, gaudy and inaccurate decals that coat the vehicle both inside and out. Many are harmless - a mural of a cheetah chasing its prey running across both doors, or perhaps the understated (and hilariously false) "Sports" running a similar span in loopy lettering. However, every so often, you'll find large '4WD' and 'Toyota' stickers adorning the cabs as well, which seems silly. It's rather like tattooing a six-pack over your beer gut.

I think it's fairly remarkable that most of them are still running. My only explanation for this is some sort of voodoo / black magic, or perhaps they've simply been modified to run on dirt.

If they could sufficiently woo the government, some combination of Maruti 800, Kathmandu traffic and the highway to Pokhara would make an excellent episode of Top Gear.

/end taxi story

As I mentioned previously, the guitar at DNC is of the brand 'Happy.' It made me even more UNhappy today when I was playing it normally and one of the brand new strings snapped. *sigh*

Last night, I had a jam session to prepare for a band performance tonight at a restaurant. After the jam session, Sachin asked if I wanted a beer or a glass of wine, so I said yes, and we crossed the street to Chopstix. We had a fantastic time, though, mostly discussing the ins and outs of Nepali and American culture.

My dad and I and a wonderful man named Michael (who helps support DNC as well) had lunch with Shanti at her home. Shanti acts as surrogate mother for the 30-odd children at DNC, and lives there 6 days out of the week, and rarely gets a moment's peace. She is a truly remarkable woman with a heart of pure gold. And the lunch was delicious as well.

I performed with Sachin and the rest of the Nepali Blues Society at the Ambience restaurant in Patan Durbar Square. It was a ton of fun! I posted a couple of pictures.

Well, I'm exhausted from my lack of sleep last night due to drunken escapades, and shall now go to bed.

The Humble Taxi, and Good Times

-Carey

Priveledged

Anecdote:

My dad met today with the president of Bakery Cafe, Shyan Khakshupati. Bakery Cafe's are plentiful around Kathmandu, and have become successful on the basis of good, consistent food and youthful atmosphere. Shyam is also responsible for the large proportion of deaf individuals working as wait staff in his restaurants.

Shaym mentioned that his daughter recently hosted a couple of American friends. One morning, the Americans wished (understandably) to take a shower, but were informed that there was no water.

"But...how can that be? How is that possible?" they asked.

They then learned of the electricity situation here as well, and I can only guess that armed with this further knowledge, they sunk further into confusion and vague despair.

It's cliche and unfair to say that, as Americans, we are spoiled, and take far too much for granted. After all, if things like running water and electricity are plentiful and serve to ease and enhance our lives, why should we not take advantage of them?

That said, the disparity between societies that are granted this freedom of resources and those that are not is stark, though sometimes it is difficult to see.

Today, my dad and I traveled with Sita and Nirmala out to Banepa to visit the deaf school there. Rotary had provided funds to the school very recently, and already the school has gone out and purchased two brand new computers (the first computers the school has ever seen), as well as some proper kitchen equipment, so that the staff may cook lunch for 40 children on more than one kerosene-pump burner.

As computers are largely a visual medium, they are perfectly suited for use by those with hearing impairment, and yet, there are few deaf schools with adequate facilities for computer training. I won't extol upon the virtues of computer usage here, for those are tired words.

But on the other hand, seeing the light and joy in the faces of the children as they thanked us for the simple and, to us, common joys of computers and proper cooking equipment was something that one can never grow tired of.

I've posted a few photos, some related to this, and some following other small tales of our trip today. Enjoy!

Another Visit to Kavre Deaf School

-Carey

Life Development for All

The main event today centered on a visit to LDC, or Life Development Center. This is a center run by my some of my dad's newest contacts in Nepal, Rolf and Monique. The center is a residential home and school for children and adults with serious developmental disabilities.

Most of the residents are unable to communicate clearly through speech. Many of them suffer seizures on a daily basis. They vary in their level of disability, from mild autism or down syndrome to near a near-comatose state.

Four to six individuals sleep in any given room in the center, and for each group, there must be one caretaker sleeping as well, as the seizures many suffer are random and require immediate attention.

The center provides many activities for the children, such as preparing vegetables for cooking, gardening, music therapy and exercise, and so on. The center needs more sponsors, and today, we video-taped and interviewed a number of children and young adults whose families are no longer able to provide adequate support funds to the center.

With us today was another group of four individuals with physical disabilities. The general consensus from them was one of revelation - the LDC really helped to put things into perspective. Jamuna Subedi, for example, may have artificial legs, but she has full and complete use of her mind, something she has taken for granted. The LDC helped to inspire and show those with physical disabilities that there are people that they can help too, instead of merely acting as recipients of aid themselves.

/end serious topics

On our way back from Boudha, we were lucky enough to have hired quite a young, hip cab driver to drop Jamuna and Chanda off before driving my dad and I back to Sanepa. He is so far the only cabbie throughout Kathmandu that I've encountered who has taken the time to install a subwoofer in his cab (the Nepali people simply call them 'woofers'). While I'm sure he was very proud, the woofer impacted our cab ride in a largely negative way.

In the beginning, we were trying to have pleasant conversation, but the driver proceeded to play techno-Nepali music at a decibel level usually reserved for measuring the sound levels of heavy construction equipment. Luckily, he heeded our pleas and shut it off for some time.

However, the woofer was so badly wired that somehow, the engine noise was amplified through it and every bump would also be amplified. And the bumps themselves need no amplification. For the first time ever, I was grateful every time the cab driver stalled, because it meant sweet, sweet silence for at least a few moments.

As soon as Jamuna and Chanda were dropped off and it was just my dad and I in the cab, the music came back on. However, it did make for some good background music as I filmed our little drive through Kathmandu at night.

No photos today, though, I am thoroughly worn out, slightly sick, and have taken NyQuil and have only a matter of seconds before I fall into a deep, rock-like sleep.

-Carey

No one is safe

On Holi, no one is safe.

Even the man with the D3 and the 80-200mm f/2.8 lens and the large, reflective "Press" jersey on looked concerned.

Our trip to DNC was not without excitement.

I've only posted a handful of photos, because that's all we could risk the camera for.

There was much red. Much water. Much fun.

Throughout the city, there were far more elaborate face paintings than those we saw...many reds, silvers, greens.

Anywho. Check out the few pics I've uploaded.

Holi

-Carey

P.S. - The guitar belonging to DNC that I've restrung is manufactured under the brand 'Happy.' It's occurred to me that emotions do not a good brand name make. I wouldn't buy a car called "downtrodden," I wouldn't buy a pencil called "dull" and I wouldn't buy a pair of pants called "vulnerable." All of those seem to just be asking for trouble, just as the Happy Guitar has made me anything but happy due to various tuning problems among other issues.

Vague Apprehension

Today is Holi, which, in India anyway, is a festival of color where literally everyone throws dyes at everyone. In Nepal, it's more common practice to simply throw water or water balloons, but I hear there will be some color mixed in as well.

As I speak, there are screams and roars coming in through my closed windows, The Scorpions' "Rock You Like a Hurricane" is being blasted at an obscene volume from an unknown location, and my dad got chased by little girls with a bucket of water on the way to his massage this morning, shortly before getting pegged with a water balloon from a balcony.

We're spending the day at DNC, but I don't think that means our experience will any more sedate.

Also, sorry, but I doubt there will be any photos. For obvious reasons.

I'll post a detailed update later.

-Carey

p.s. quick update: current music blasting through the streets is a techno remix of Stand By Me.

Dictated by Health

I suppose I’ll eventually have a proper blog update, but in its stead, I figured I’d go ahead and plot out the day’s events for your reading entertainment.

-I started the day out with a nice, mild cough and feeling as if I’d had the back of my throat belt-sanded throughout the night. I realized this might be partially due to a lack of sleep, as a lone mosquito spent the night in my room. I received only one bite (on my finger, of all places) because I’m pretty sure that I didn’t actually sleep because I was too worried about waking with a hundred bites and a mosquito the size of a hamster to deal with. So, I wiled away the hours tossing and turning, and trying my best to ignore the muted ‘zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz’ that would occasionally buzz past my ear, causing me to flail madly before falling back into some semblance of half-sleep. I also had a fairly serious concern regarding the results of a mosquito crawling inside my ear and into my brain. While this image was no doubt enhanced by my lack of sleep, it also did little to remedy that situation and lull me off to snoozeland.

-I woke with electricity, which had kindly been switched on from 4am to 8am. By the time my dad and I both woke up, we had enough time left with electricity to make toast and write a single email. The toast was very good.

-I had a fine bucket bath, but I also had a shave, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it.

-I elected to stay home today and nurse my belt-sanded throat, and in doing so, clearly limited the day’s activities, which were as follows: read, drink water, eat, watch top gear, concoct elaborate schemes concerning the fate of the offices of RR’s internet provider, and eat some more.

-I finished my book today, which was a fairly gruesome murder mystery. While it was very good, reading 200 pages of rape, gore and gritty LA underbelly in one go can have a somewhat...numbing effect on the brain. And I say the book was very good, because it was. But I’m also frustrated because I can tell that the ending of this book was extremely significant, profound, and metaphoric. But for the life of me, I cannot understand one damn single part of it. At the very least, the story was a page turner.

-I’ve watched two episodes of Top Gear which did little more than to make me hope that when I get home, my car’s battery isn’t dead, and my tires aren’t flat. Both of these are, however, quite likely.

-The internet worked for the ten minutes I had to use it this morning. The power came on today at noon or thereabouts. The internet then worked for approximately ten minutes after that, and beyond that, I was unable to do...anything. So I gave up and watched, as previously mentioned, a couple episodes of Top Gear. However, once I was done with that, I discovered that my computer would not even connect wirelessly to the router, much less access the internet. So, I find myself currently sitting on the stairs in RR’s house, hard-wired to the router with a cable roughly the length of my leg. If I only had a cushion...

On the positive side, I’ve gotten to spend all day in my pajamas, and my throat feels as though it’s now simply clogged with feathers, which is an improvement.

When my dad gets home with the camera and IF there’s internet later, I’ll upload photos and write a quip about yesterday’s events.

Til then,

-Carey

Summing up a 5 day trek into one blog post is difficult.

But here goes.

The steps pass as the ticks from a clock, distinct and endless. As steps become the seconds, dung becomes the mark of minutes, and villages the marks of hours.

Treks were unplotted territory in my mind. Someone would say "trek," and I think "cool" and it generally stopped there.

Even on this relatively sedate trek, I begin to see the attraction. Exhausting, yes. But much more as well.

I've found, for the most part, an inverse proportion between steps taken and amount of conversation, which I take to be largely positive. Even in a group, it becomes all too easy to fall into your own thoughts and leave your body on its anti-dung autopilot.

I might also expound upon the difficulty of observing your surroundings for photographic qualities when your primary concerns require extreme attention to that which is under your feet. In addition to dung, there are roots, rocks, loose gravel to slip on, and water.

Growing accustomed to a consistent state of fatigue is easily done as well. You get used to pushing yourself over this short time, as it becomes more mechanical and less mental. Each time I felt tired, I would realize that this was still nothing in comparison to my Black Belt Test, which will probably always be the most trying physical experience I've ever gone through.

The hotels within villages are often referred to colloquially as 'tea houses.' Quick comparison:

Tea House: plenty of water, hot shower, 24 hours electricity, expensive internet, plenty of beer.
Kathmandu: Little water, bucket baths, 4-8 hours electricity, 4-8 hours internet, plenty of beer.

At least we're even on the beer front.

It seemed to me as we first started the trek that all the glory, glamor and 'extreme-ness' of trekking seemed absent. You merely walk along a well-traveled path past village after village where you might purchase all you might need.

Then you hit the forests. And the stairs. Thousands of them. Suddenly, while it's no walk into Mordor, it's certainly no walk in the park either. All told, the trip is around 50 km round trip, with 3-6 hours of walking per day.

And when I ascended the steps to Poon Hill for sunrise over the Annapurna range after two and a half days walk, I was not prepared for how breathtakingly beautiful it was, and suddenly, it all makes sense - I understand now why people go on treks and climb mountains. RR said "the journey is the destination," and I think to a degree that's true. But my destination atop Poon Hill was more awe-inspiring than I could have imagined.

Tid bits:

-One of the tea houses we stayed in actually had showers and bathrooms attached to our rooms instead of a community-toilet setup. However, the whole room is the shower, so no curtain was present to protect everything from inevitable wetness. This wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't made a grave miscalculation and taken a shower prior to relieving myself on the much-needed Western-style toilet. The wetness was quite unpleasant.

-In the same bathroom, the tank for the toilet hangs at a slant off the wall, but I couldly have noticed this as I stumbled into the bathroom with a flashlight and a need to pee in the middle of the night. I set the flashlight atop the toilet tank. Before I could reach for the waistband on my sweats, the flashlight toppled end over end and landed light-down into the toilet. Mercifully, I had flushed the toilet earlier, but I couldn't help but stare at the ethereal glow emanating from the bowl as though it were a little ray of sunshine coming up from the depths of God-knows-what. Then I came to my senses, swore, and fished out the flashlight and sanitized it.

-The internet in Ghorepani (a village 45-minutes walk from Poon Hill) cost 8 rupees a minute. This wouldn't be so bad if it didn't take at least two minutes to load a single email. It also wouldn't be so bad if they had posted the price in more than one place, instead of just writing it in sharpie on the corner of a monitor two computers down from me. So, in five minutes, I'd read two emails and lost 40 rupees.

-I was introduced on this trip to the deep-fried Mars bar, which the Nepali tea houses slyly call a 'chocolate roll.' It is awesome beyond description.

-One of our guest houses seemed to have walls made of aluminum foil covered with a thin layer of washable paint for good measure. My neighbors tried to whisper so I wouldn't be disturbed by their conversation. Even though the aluminum foil on the walls was, I'm sure, of the highest quality, I still heard their whispering and whispered back that they shouldn't worry about it and then promptly put in my headphones.

-A lot of guides seem afflicted with the infamous dal-baht belly, despite their job, which is, you know, walking miles upon miles through mountain wilderness.

-While walking silently during the trek, I was grateful no one asked me what I was thinking, because I was actually thinking quite often about how nice it is to get lost in one's own thoughts, but when you say that to someone when they ask you what you're thinking, I'd wager it sounds pretty stupid.

-One brand of bottled water you can buy is called 'Today's.' However, most of the bottles you'll find are usually bottled about 9 months ago.

I'm sure I've typed enough. Go look at the photos, they're absolutely breathtaking.

Poon Hill 5 day Trek

-Carey

Sidenote

Also, for those interested, Gina's blog is here! Check it out:

kathmanduandbeyond.blogspot.com

I'm going on a trek for the next few days, so there's likely to be no blog update until this weekend. Expect many a pretty picture when I return, though.

-Carey

Another Double Dose

Due in no small part to my own desire to get a good night’s sleep two nights ago, I decided not to update the blog. This, of course, was folly, and now I have twice as many photos to upload and the electricity did not come on at midnight as I have hoped, and I am now hopelessly behind.

Anywho. On to the last few days of programs.

Two days ago, many of the Rotarians attended a polio immunization day, but that’s about all I can say about it, because that’s all I know about it. They showed up at the deaf hostel where my dad and I and some Rotaractors were hanging out. This hostel houses perhaps 70 children who are all hearing impaired.

There’s something I’ve noticed about children with hearing impairment. Not only are they generally quieter (I suppose that’s for obvious reasons), but they seem more mature for their age, and generally more mild-mannered. And I know this isn’t due to a lack of communication, because I’ve visited other schools here with children both with physical disabilities and without, and even the children there that don’t speak English and cannot communicate with me are tangibly different than the children with hearing impairment. I also feel a slight pull to perhaps pursue sign language. It’s somewhat fascinating.

We got a lovely tour of the facility, and many Nepali sign language lessons, which made for an amusing picture or two, mostly at Dave’s expense.

When we came to the deaf hostel, we had no real program planned, but luckily, things worked out. There are children living there who have sponsors back home, so those that have sponsors wrote letters to them and were photographed. Those who aren’t sponsored generally amused themselves, but every child was treated to a nice box lunch, and some new sporting equipment. We bought them a badminton set, ping pong paddles and balls, and a few soccer (foot) balls, and the children all had a great time. We also handed out many a beanie baby and gift bag.

Afterwards, the Rotarians went to Fire and Ice for dinner, and my dad and Gina and I attended dinner at Dhruba Acharya’s, a friend of my dad’s.

Deaf Hostel Visit

Yesterday's program was placed entirely in the capable hands of Judy Ginn. We attended Durbar School, which is Kathmandu’s oldest school, established in 1854. Judy’s not-so-easy job was to teach the children to make an ABC book for Nepal (A is for Apple, B is for Bee, etc etc). Luckily, we had a team of Rotaractors to help translate and brainstorm, but somehow, we still ended up with J for Jesus Christ. Not to bash Mr. Christ, but he and his followers aren't exactly prevalent in Nepal, and are thus not the first subjects to LEAP to my mind when I think of Nepal.

My dad’s main job during this time was to film all of the pen pal children, and I’m sure my impending job will be to edit and compile that into a video to show to the kids back home.

Following the Durbar School visit, we visited Bhoudanath Stupa, which is the largest Stupa in Nepal, which is saying something. The photos will have to tell the story with this one. We ate lunch at a restaurant called Flavor’s, owned and operated by a friend of my dad’s. He also employees little people as wait staff, and is an avid proponent for those with disabilities. And the food is good, the coffee amazing, and there’s free wi-fi. So naturally, he’s doing quite well (especially with tourists) and is opening up more restaurants.

Durbar Pen Pals and Bhoudanath

The Rotarians continued their sightseeing around Bhoudanath, but my Dad and I went to Independent Living Center, which is a center for children and people with severe developmental disabilities. It’s headed up by Rolf and Monique, who are also actively involved in the deaf hostel we visited yesterday as well as DNC, and there’s some potential for partnership there.

Tonight, we had a nice relaxing dinner at home, and everyone else watched a Hindi movie while I tried to fix my email client, which ruined my mood almost too effectively. Oh well. I’ll recover.

-Carey

P.S. - Again, another shameless plug for my flickr page, which has a few shots that are mostly irrelevant here, but still should be nice to look at.

www.flickr.com/photos/carey_rose