Nepal/India Border + Day 1 in Varanasi, India

Hello friends!

I still have more journal entries to transcribe from the Annapurna Trek, but in the mean time, I wrote a blog today about our voyage from Nepal to India and our first day back in India. Lots to report! Since writing this blog earlier this afternoon, we've had even more crazy experiences in Varanasi. This city is drenched in an unmistakable intensity. Hopefully more soon....

Today is Sunday, November 8, 2009. I am currently lying on my bed in an overall decent room at the Sahi Riverview Guesthouse in Varanasi, India. I woke up yesterday morning at 5:15 am in Pokhara, Nepal and spent the ensuing 24 hours traveling by land to get to my current location. Having only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, I laid down to take a nap. But the there is just too much floating around in my head right now. India has overwhelmed me. I must write it all down before I forget!

Before we left for our trek, we had penciled in a solid three days in Pokhara that was reserved for resting up and planning the coming weeks in India. This was a much needed break and by the third day, I felt like I was nearly back to a fully charged battery. By the third day, I had also become thoroughly sick of Pokhara and its endless stream of shops selling postcards, trekking gear, knock-off Tibetan arts and crafts, and "multicuisine" food. Since our goal was to rest, we didn't venture very far off from the tourist area, and by the end of our time in Pokhara I was more than ready to leave. The supposedly soothing "Tibetan chant" music that casts an unrelenting auditory blanket over all of Lakeside (Pokhara's tourist district) had evolved from a comical annoyance into the eternal soundtrack of my own personal hell. Just thinking about the ever present semi-tonal melodies of this music makes me shudder.

The one thing Lakeside had going for itself was a string of solid bookstores, many of which had great second-hand selections. I traded in some of the books we had already read for a decent amount of Rupees and picked up Jurassic Park, an Isaac Asimov novel about robots, and Conrad's Heart of Darkness, which I somehow have never read. I'm already almost finished with Jurassic Park and I can only say that it's not quite as impressive as I remember it being as an "eager to read big books" ten year old. I would however, like to take this opportunity to quote a line from a rap about Jurassic Park that I wrote with my grade school chum Chris Dunlap for a literary fair contest. Ahem: "From T-Rex chases to Raptors in cages/This book's totally awesome it's 400 pages!"

But alas, I digress. We began yesterday morning by walking about twenty minutes to Pokhara's interestingly named "Tourist Bus Station." Sure enough, it was a bus station entirely populated by tourists heading in one direction or another. As those of us heading to the Indian border piled into a bus that in size and condition was no different than any other bus we'd taken in Nepal, a Frenchman began complaining that someone else was in his assigned seat. Mimi and I both looked at each other and thought, "This bus has assigned seats?"

Everyone else seemed to know that assigning seats on a bus in Nepal was an exercise in futility, but this one guy kept at it long enough to hold up our departure. On top this, another French couple began arguing with yet another European couple because they both had the same seat assignment. We shared glances and rolled our eyes with a middle-aged American couple sitting across from us. Their accents strongly suggested a Brooklyn upbringing and their eyes spoke to me, "What's with this fuckin' guy? It's a bus in Nepal. Sit down and shut up!"

At this point, the bus depot's coffee and tea vendor barreled up to the side of the bus, clearly vexed. He approached the French couple from their window and began yelling, "Why wouldn't you pay me for your coffee and pastry? This is so unfair!" The French couple looked at each other as if they didn't understand the problem, to which the vendor countered, "It is always French people who did this! What is with you?" Meanwhile, the initial Frenchman was still complaining about the seating situation. At this point, Mimi and I could barely contain ourselves, but we managed to keep our lips sealed and laughs to a minimum. So this is life on the tourist bus, I thought.

Eventually, we got on our way. Despite only being only 180 kilometers away, the trip to the border would ultimately take us seven windy and bumpy hours. Additionally, despite being advertised as a "tourist bus," the driver and his trusty assistant nevertheless began picking up Nepalis along the way and cramming them into the aisle of the bus. By this point, we'd taken enough buses in Nepal that the insanity of experience barely even registered. In fact, I spent most of the ride tearing through Jurassic Park.

By 2pm, we had arrived the dirty, dismal border town of Sunauli. Over the course of the past seven hours, we had gradually weaved our way out of the foothills of the Himalayas and down into the flat, fertile land of southern Nepal, a broad region known as the Terai. For some reason, the bus didn't take us all the way to the border, so we pushed aside the aggressive bicycle rickshaw drivers and eventually found the local bus. Unfortunately, the bus was packed to the brim. The conductor pointed to the roof of the bus and gave us a smile. We had done this once before in the Kathmandu Valley, and we knew the border wasn't far, so we threw our bags up top and climbed up. As we drove along the road, we kept getting smiles, screams and waves from rooftop Nepalis coming in the other direction, who seemed ecstatic and proud that foreigners were riding the bus Nepali style. 



Immigration at the border was a breeze on both sides, and before we knew it, we were back in India.



Actually, now that I think about it, finding immigration on the Indian side was a bit tricky. Let's play "Find the Immigration Office," shall we?



India was instantly overwhelming. Maybe it's just because it was a border town, but India was a shock to the senses. It was at this moment that Mimi made a very astute observation. It isn't that India is poorer than Nepal. In fact, the statistics show than Nepal is actually one of the poorest countries in all of Asia. It's just that India has so many goddamn people. I don't know how else to put it. India is insane.

Following the border crossing, we hopped on another bus that would take us from Sunauli to another town called Gorakhpur. From there, we would take an overnight train to Varanasi, which is purported to be one of India's holiest, and consequently one of its craziest cities. The train station in Gorakhpur was a bit overwhelming, but we had cut our teeth in Kolkata, so we were pretty much ready for anything. Our train didn't leave until 10:30pm, so we had a solid five hours to kill at the train station. A decent dinner and 150 pages of Jurassic Park later, it was time to board the train.

Once aboard, Mimi and I instantly passed out. Our train was scheduled to arrive in Varanasi at 4:40am, and I woke up five minutes before my alarm at 4:20. We packed our things, held a brief pep rally, and hopped off the train. Both our guidebook and a steady flow of fellow travelers had warned us that Varanasi is chaotic, aggressive and relentless; a city that takes no prisoners. Its touts and scammers are world renowned. And yet, tourists flock here to catch a glimpse of the mystical aura that emanates from the holiness of the Ganges River. We gathered it was the kind of city that you simply have to visit, but that you wouldn't want to stay in any longer than you needed to. Our plan was to get the vibe, and get on.

We exited the train station and negotiated a fair price to our guesthouse. To get a better price, we took an "autorickshaw" instead of a taxi. An autorickshaw is something between a golf cart and an oversized motorcycle, but it got the job done this morning. That being said, I was a nervous wreck for the entirety of the fifteen minute ride. Would he take us to the right hotel, or would he take us to his buddy's hotel for a commission? Would he drop us off in the middle of nowhere and demand money to take us back? Or maybe he'd take us to the right place, and then claim that we had agreed on a different price. The fact that it was still dark out and his route included what seemed like a play-by-play tour of Varanasi's most deserted streets and sketchiest back-alleys didn't help. But sure enough, he pulled his vehicle over, led us through a few more alleys by foot, and pointed at a sign that said Sahi Riverview Guesthouse. We had made it. Perhaps next time I should be slightly less suspicious.

It was only 5am by this point, and we had to wake up an attendant to unlock the gate for us. He groggily but kindly told us that because the place was fully booked (which, by the way, is always a good sign) that our room wouldn't be available until 11:30. I had expected to this might happen, and we had already formulated a plan. We had read that the best time to take a rowboat tour along the Ganges was at sunrise, when many devotees of the river come out to pray and bathe in its holy but dangerously polluted waters. So we asked the attendant if he could store our bags and possibly arrange a boat for us. He told us that someone would be there at 5:30 and could arrange a boat for us.

A few minutes later, a very nice man arrived and told us that if we didn't mind waiting for another couple from the hotel, that we could all go down to the river together. A few minutes later, two Canadians showed up and we all walked down to the river. We agreed to share a boat with them and before I knew it, we were out on the river just as the sun was coming up.

Varanasi is known for its 80+ "ghats," a diverse collection of broad stairways that lead down to the water of the river. As our boatman propelled us down the immense Ganges, we watched as the local people went about their business in the river. Some had come to pray. Others had come simply soap up and take an early morning bath in the river. Others still had come to do their laundry.

I tried not to think about the pollution and the unhealthy paradox of a city's primary water source also serving as its main sewage dump. When our boatman pointed to a ancient looking cylindrical building that rose from the water and told us it was the city's main water purification center, I witnessed a collective cringe among us and the Canadians.

Beyond the pollution though, there was something special about the ghats and the way people went about their business. As Mimi pointed out, Varanasi seemed just as dirty and poor as Kolkata. And yet, it somehow projected an unexpected warmth and positivity that Kolkata unquestionably lacked. Here are some pictures from this morning's excursion:








The boat ride lasted two hours. As we crept along the ghats, we took many pictures and chatted with the Canadians. Native to Calgary, they both worked as engineers in the oil and gas business, but the husband had recently been laid off so they took a year off to travel. As always, it was nice to chat with fellow travelers, exchange stories, and pick up tips. On our way back up the river, we past one of Varanasi's two holy cremation sites, which are casually known as the "Burning Ghats." On the way down, there had been no activity. But now we saw a large fire emanating from the pyre. Upon closer expecation, we discovered a lifeless hand creeping out of the flames. As I looked even closer still, I could make out the contours of an entire ashen body slowly disappearing in the fire. I had never seen a cremation before.

After returning to the guesthouse, we ate a much needed breakfast. We still had over two hours before our room would be ready, so despite our low energy, we decided to go back out into the city and wander around. I really enjoyed this walk. We didn't understand what all the fuss about. Sure, there was a steady stream of persistent boatsman, not to mention a few children who begged for money, but Varanasi seemed no different than any other city we had recently been to. On the contrary, there was a positive energy that we couldn't quite place our finger on.    

Among the highlights was the constant presence of India's holy bovine community, not to mention a bizarre wall that someone had laboriously plastered with manure, or to use a phrase borrowed from Mookie Singerman, doodle pies. We also saw some surprisingly "hip" graffiti and a cool collection of abandoned bicycle rickshaws.




PHOTO BY MIMI.


PHOTO BY MIMI.



After half an hour of aimless wandering, we found ourselves at a large, ragged field where some young boys were playing a pickup game of cricket. I am perplexed and amused by cricket, a game whose rules have continually eluded me. We decided to watch for a bit.




After a few minutes, some of the boys wandered away from the game and began chatting with us using the few English words they knew. They seemed very curious about us and where we came from. You could tell that they wanted to ask us a million questions, but lacked the necessary vocabulary. We chatted for a while with a young boy name Sadu and before we knew it he was happily taking pictures of us with our camera. Gradually, one by one, the boys quit playing cricket and came over to us to see what the fuss was about. Before we knew it, we had 5 or 6 boys vying to take photos with our camera.





Finally, one of the bigger boys came over and said something to the rest in Hindi. I couldn't understand it but I imagined the translation to be, "Come on guys! Forget about these stupid foreigners. Let's get back to the game!" Several of the boys reluctantly went back to the game, but a few more hung on.

We hung out for a bit longer, making stilted small talk and looking at the map of India in our guide book. This experience really made me happy. I had come to Varanasi expecting endless hassle, but what I found was a variety of friendly, curious people. We'll see what the rest of our time here brings us, but thus far, I'm having a complete blast here. This afternoon, we will go back out and explore more.

Annapurna Circuit Trek - Days 6-8

DAY 6: October 24, 2009. From Pisang (3200m) to Manang (3540m)

Today was without a doubt one of the best days of my entire life. I have never been to such an awe-inspiring, special, beautiful place. We climbed so high that it almost felt as if I could touch the mountains. I have never been to a place where I felt so open, so free, and so high. Perhaps it goes without saying that neither words nor pictures could ever really do this experience justice. It's simply a place one has to experience for his or herself. It is a place that everyone should attempt to visit in their lifetime.

As I write this, I am sitting at a warm corner of the rather nice Hotel Yak, which is a rather large hotel in the very interesting town of Manang. I just came down from the roof of the lodge, where we watched local cowboys race their horeses through the main drag of town. In fact, it's the only road (pure dirt, no gravel here) in the entire town. Manang has a marvelous wild west vibe that is somehow both cinematic and authentic. I'm really happy to be where I am right now, but let me go back to the beginning.

I woke up this morning feeling absolutely dreadful. My ear was still clogged and my throat was immensely sore as a result of the harsh air, which has become increasingly cold and dry. Getting out of my sleeping bag and into the frigid air was a miserable experience, but I pulled myself together, packed our sack up, got dressed, and had some breakfast. The breakfast consisted of some Tsampa porridge with apple, as well as a buckwhat pancake and a boiled egg. Tsampa is some type of whole wheat grain, and the porridge, despite its rather gooey consistency, was quite hearty and delicious. As my Austrian friend Peter put it, "Power slime!"





Now, there are two routes from Pisang to Manang. The low route follows the bottom of the valley and only takes three hours. Compared to previous days, that's a breeze of a day. The high route takes six to seven hours but climbs high above the valley and offers what many people believe to be the best mountain views of the entire trek. The high route also rises to nearly 4,000 meters, before descending back down to Manang, which is at 3540m. This spike in elevation is considered to be very healthy because it helps with the process of acclimatization. If a person goes into the mountains too quickly, they can get very sick and even die. But if you ease into it, there is often no problem. Anyways, in case it wasn't obvious, we took the high route, and boy was it worth it.

The day began with about 45 minutes of a slow ascent through a nice wooded area. We passed two beautiful lakes. One was crystal clear, and the other had an interesting green hue. We also crossed several streams and the water up here was some of the clearest water I have ever seen. It was if the stones beneath the water were popping out in front of me.



Eventually, we made it to a nice maniwall, which is a Buddhist prayer wall made of sacred engraved stones. The entire Manang region is inhabited by a Tibetan-like people and Buddhism is pretty much the only religion in these parts. This prayer wall marked the base of what I would soon find out to be the most challenging hill climb I have ever endured.



photo by mimi.

For 2 to 3 hours, we zigzagged up the steep side of the valley. Very quickly we left the wooded area behind us as we climbed up into an arid, desert-like environment. Opposite of the ascent lay the massive Annapurna II, which is an astounding 7937 meters tall. As we climbed and climbed, it felt as if we were getting closer and closer to the mountain itself. This was when I learned that my eyes can play tricks on me when it comes to the mountains. They are so big, and heights are so hard to judge, that I often felt much higher up than I actually was.

Finally, after many breaks and wipes of the brow, we made it to the small village of Ghyaru, which contained a large Stupa. From the Stupa, we had utterly indescribably views of the surrounding mountains. Luckily, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and I loved tracing my vision along the line where the white peaks of the mountains met the deep blue of the sky. Pictures don't come even close to fully capturing the enormity of these mountains, but Mimi and I did our best. 


PHOTO BY MIMI.




The town itself was also remarkable in that it was made entirely of stones. This gave it a primitive aura. The local people looked quite worn by the sun, and you could tell that the village was not particularly prosperous. After walking through the village, we continued along a path that snaked further up the side of the valley. This eventually led us to the highest point of the day: a vista point that nearly brought me to tears. The clarity of the sky and mountains was something I never knew existed on this earth. The sun was beating down on me, but the winds from the mountains simultaneously cooled me down. We spent quite some time here and it was great to simply sit and soak up the mountains. I felt very happy at this moment and I hope that in the coming days we will be able to visit more places such as this.









The rest of the day's trek was nearly all downhill. The environment at this point totally caught me offguard. As we descended back down into the valley, I realized that we were without a doubt in the middle of a desert. Well, there was the occasional stream of water, but the air was dry, the plants were sparse, and the hillsides were composed of rocks that reminded me of the more barren parts of Utah or Arizona.




The funny thing was that despite the burning sun and the desert scenery, a quick look up in nearly any direction revealed towering mountain peaks. I kept wondering, how could the snow be so close to us and not melt? It's so hot down here! It was then that I realized that the snow wasn't even that close. It was just that the mountains are so huge and towering that they feel much closer than they really are.

As we walked towards Manang, I truly felt like I was in the wild west. It was an unmistakable sensation, and when a Nepali man sporting a veritable cowboy hat blazed past us on his horse, all I could do was laugh. For the millionth time this week, I asked myself the same questions once again: "How did I get here? Where am I? Is this for real?"



I am very happy to be where I am right now. And I want nothing more than to share this place - the villages, the people, the landscapes - with my friends and family. Nepal is an amazing place and I am actually at a loss for words. I just don't know what to say. I love it here!

DAY 7: October 25, 2009. Acclimatization Day in Manang

Today we spent a second day in the wonderful and charming town of Manang. It is strongly advised that all trekkers spend two nights in Manang to help with the process of acclimatization. As I wrote before, if you go too high too fast, you can get very, very sick. Traditionally, we are supposed to do a day hike on the second day in Manang that goes high in elevation. By "hiking high and sleeping low," we can become comfortable with the altitude much more quickly.

So we spent the morning doing an excellent but challenging hike that brought us back up to 4,000 meters. The trail was quite obvious so Dahn (who is already well acclimatized from 12 years of trekking) stayed at the lodge while Mimi and I went out on our own. Our Austrian friends decided forgo the second day in Manang, so we said goodbye to them in the morning. The plan is to meet up with them again in three days in a town called Muktinath, but I don't know if this will actually happen. I hope it does though because they are excellent trekking mates.

The morning hike basically took us up the side of the valley much in the same way as the day before. The steep zigzagging path was quite tiring, but we were rewarded at the top with even more stunning views of the surrounding mountains. I can't stress enough that b by being closer to the mountains, they seem so much more tangible and dominating. The mountains are so big that they can play tricks with your eyes. Sometimes it seems that we are in striking distance of the snow line. In reality, it's another 2,000 meters up. The mountains are so big that they often seem so much closer than they really are. A towering peak that seems a short hike away might really be six or seven miles away.

We didn't feel sick at all during the hike, so I think we will be OK in terms of the upcoming increase in altitude. We will still take it slow tomorrow and see how we feel at lunchtime, but if all goes according to plan, we will spend tomorrow night in Thorung Phedi, which is at around 4500 m. We will then get up super early the next morning and go over the Thorung La Pass, which at 5416 meters is the highest pass in the world that doesn't require mountaineering gear. If at any point we start to feel sick, we will retreat downhill until we are properly acclimatized.

Thorung La is supposed to be very challenging and somewhat miserable. The reason we have to leave at 3 or 4 in the morning is because at about 10 am the winds become so intense that it becomes unbearable. I think that many people like to overhype the extremity of Thorung La. It is a constant topic of conversation in the lodges among trekkers. At the same time, a few people die each year while attempting to cross the pass. These deaths are usually the result of under equipped porters who cannot bear the cold, or moronic trekkers who attempt the pass with out sufficient acclimatization. Forunately for us, our porter Ramji has gloves, a hat, boots and a jacket, and we are not morons. I think we will be just fine.

Anyways, I got a little bit ahead of myself. We got back fro mthe hike at about noon and had a good lunch of Dal Baht and Veg. Momos. Dal Baht is the national food of Nepal and consists of rice, lentil soup, and potato curry. If you are really lucky, you might get a green veggie, a piece of papad (thin crispy bread with peppercorns), or some pickled radishes or chilis. I've been eating Dal Baht for either lunch or dinner everyday so far on the trek. I feel it is my duty, as 80% of all Nepalis eat Dal Baht every single day for their entire life. I'm not quite ready to eat it with my bare hands as the Nepalis do, but I'm doing my best to eat the local food.

The food on the trek has often been quite simple, but sometimes we get a very delicious meal. Every lodge basically has the exact same menu, which consists of different versions of stir-fried noodles, rice or potatoes. Throw Dal Baht or some Momos (Tibetan dumplings) into the mix, and you can get a pretty decent variety of food. Occasionally, a menu will bust out with a curveball, such as the "lasagna" I had a few nights ago. This travesty of a dish consisted of fat Chinese noodles mixed with bitter greens, which was then drenched in a bizarre sauce vaguely remniscent of Thousand Island dressing. Dahn had warned us not to waste food, so I did my best to eat it all. I can't really complain though when I factor in the fact that I'm a six day walk from the nearest road suitable for automobiles. I'm surprised that the people here even know was lasagna is! And besids, sometimes the good as really quite delicious, such as the Dal Baht I had for lunch.

Boy, I keep getting sidetracked! After lunch we sat out in the windy sun and read our books. I am currently reading a Kurt Vonnegut book called Galapagos. As many of his books are, it's quite silly but enjoyable to read. We then walked around Manang for a bit, caved in, and had a delicious slice of fresh carrot cake at a bakery down the road from our lodge. The local population in Manang have historically been traders, and they sure have mastered the art of providing exactly what a Western trekker needs after they've been on the trail for about a week.

As we walked back towards the lodge, we heard in the distance a large group of Nepalis singing a song. It was a very peaceful melody and had a distinctly Native American tonal quality to it. As we turned the corner off the main drag, we discovered that all the singing men were actually on horses. As corny as this is to say, we had stumbled upon a completely authentic cultural tradition.

All of the horses were occupied by the young, fit men of Manang. They wore a bizarrre combination of traditional yak wool garments, pro-wrestling t-shirts, and baseball caps and cowboy hats.



Surrounding the men were the women, children and elderly. As one man on a horse banged a large drum to a slow simple beat, the horsemen sang the same two or three melodies over and over again. As they sang, they passed around a container of yak butter, so that each man could ceremoniously put a dollop of butter on the back of us head. This apparently brings good luck.

This went on for at least 30 minutes and probably longer. Although there were some other trekkers watching the ceremony, I felt the Nepalis were not putting on a show for the tourists. It felt like they had been doing this for generations and would have been doing it regardless of whether the "Annapurna Circuit Trek" existed or not.

The funny thing was that I wasn't even sure what the ceremony was in preparation for. The night before we had seen these same men riding their horses back and forth down the main drag of town. It wasn't exactly a race, but they would go quite fast and there was an element of competition and showboating.

After the horseman road off, the town was quiet for maybe an hour. Slowly, people -- locals and trekkers alike -- began lining up along the main drag, staking out a good spot. Many people watched from the roofs of the lodges, as we had done the night before. Finally, after a long wait, the horses came back into town and proceeded to race back and forth. It was great fun to watch, especially as the sun set behind the mountains.


PHOTO BY MIMI.


Manang is an amazing town. Its people seem to be poor but industrious and clever. The shops here are quite good and the town definitely feels more prosperous than some of the other villages we've stayed in. The Himalayas are an amazing people, if not for the mountains, then for bizarre, wild west towns such as Manang.




DAY 8: October 26, 2009. From Manang (3540m) to Thorung Phedi (4450m)

I can no longer feel my legs. I haven't eaten in 27 hours. Mimi collapsed from exhaustion and our guide Dahn was eaten by a yak. But I must carry on in their name.

Just kidding! I still have my legs. That being said, I am in probably the most extreme location I have ever been to. We are at Thorung Phedi, which clocks in at an impressive 4540 meters. The town consists solely of two lodges that can sleep up to 200 trekkers. Other than a restaurant, a bakery and a safe drinking water station, there is literally nothing else here. Everything is solar powered and the lodges close permanently during the winter, as it is impossible to cross Thorung La at this time. In other words, this is a base camp, not a village.

The landscape here is stark and barren. We are actually at eye level with the snow and surrounding by massive mountains. The mood here is understandably somewhat somber. Everyone here has just spent the day trekking through some very cold, desolate terrain to get here. Everyone here, including myself, is probably battling a mild to severe headache induced by the high altitude. On top of that, everyone here has to get up at 3 or 4 in the morning and climb another 1000 meters to the top of the pass. For the reasons, no one is playing Yatzee tonight. People here are quiet and subdued.

We took our time today because of altitude. Technically, we skipped one night of acclimatization, but neither of us felt sick or dizzy, so we forged ahead to Thorung Phedi, where we are now. Throughout the day, I battled with a mild headache. When this happened, we would take a short break and the headache would gradually fade away. I think that the two previous days of high hiking really helped us get used to the air and enabled us to make it up here smoothly.

There are no trees up this high. We surpassed the tree line early this morning and now there are only shrubs and the occasional wandering yak. Like the previous two days, the air today was cold and dry, only even more so. I can't help but feel that if the mountains and snow weren't here, we'd be in the middle of a desert.


 

Well, I don't really have anything else to report. Oh yeah, today marked the first day that Dahn scored us a room with a private bathroom. It's just a grim as any other bathroom I've used in the past week, but hey, at least its ours.



Tomorrow will be a very long, challenging, and in all likelyhood, miserable day. Hopefully we can get some good views at the top and the wind won't be too bad. I haven't seen a single cloud in about four days so I think we'll be OK. Dahn has promised us that we'll be fine and that we can celebrate tomorrow night in Muktinath with some candy bars and local apple brandy. Can't wait!

Annapurna Circuit Trek - Days 3-5

DAY 3: October 21, 2009. From Jagat (1300m) to Dharapani (1860m)

Today was full of ups and down, both in terms of the terrain as well as how I was feeling. I woke up at abotu 5 am with an upset stomach and unfortunately had to endure what I would call a less than successful bathroom experience. So much for the cholrine drops. From here on out I am only going to drink boiled water (which the lodges charge for) or purchase water from one of the numerous "Safe Drinking Water Stations" that can be found along the route. It's annoying because both of these options cost extra money. Still, I'd rather pay an extra $2 a day if it means that I won't get sick. The bottled water isn't an option, as prices are now at $2.25 a bottle and steadily rising along with the elevation.

I also have been struggling with a runny nose and an early morning sore throat. Once we got on the trail this morning my throat began to feel better, but my nose has been running all day. To make matters worse, this congestion seems to have spread to my left ear, which has felt clogged all day. I am unable to pop my left ear. It's possible trhat this will go away, but it's also possible that it could lead to an ear infection. I'm trying to stay positive, but deep down I am very worried about getting any sicker. We are in a very remote valley that is inaccessable by road, so it's very important that I stay healthy.

So my questionable health was one of the downers of the day. What was a positive thing today? Well for starters, the scenery today was indescribably amazing. We continued to follow the same path which goes upstream along the Marsyangdi Nadi. As I mentioned, that path goes up and down throughout the day. Sometimes we have to climb over halfway to the top of the valley. Other times we were walking right along the river at the valley's nadir.

We only caught a few brief glimpses of the snow-capped Manaslu Range, but it didn't matter because the more immediate scenery of the soaring hillsides of the valley was more than enough to make me say, "Wow." We also saw some enormous cascading waterfalls and at one point we were so close to a waterfall that the water was splashing onto us. Here are a few pictures from the day:










As we climbed up along the side of the valley, we often had to walk along rather narrow pathways that hugged the mountainside. To my left would be more mountain, but to my right was a terrifying 200 meter drop down to the soaring river below.



I took these parts very slowly and tried not to think about what would happen if I tripped and fell down the side of the valley. These passages freaked me out a little bit and served as just another reminder of how serious trekking is. It might not be mountaineering, but trekking is still no joke.

Indeed, today was the first day that my body really began to feel fatigued towards the end of the day. The path had so many challenging ups and downs. We also kept a pretty quick pace. The reason is that it's better to make good time now so that we can go slower and take our time at the higher altitudes.

It was during one of these challenging stretches when I began to think about what a solitary affair trekking can be. Even though I'm walking right in front of or just behind Mimi, Dahn and Ramji, for long stretches of time no one says anything. We all just concentrate on walking and getting into our own zones. At times it can be a very emotional experience, when my thoughts become very internal and day-dreamy. My feet continue to propel my body foward, but often I find that my mind is elsewhere. In many ways, I really like this aspect of trekking. Other times though, I wish we were making more conversation.

On this point, it would be worth mentioning Dahn's role as our guide. I'm really happy to have him with us in case anything goes wrong. But he hasn't really told us all that much about where we are or information about the local people and cultures. Often, he walks in silence and concentration just as Mimi and I do, and on occasion he even sneaks his headphones on and listens to his I Pod Nano, which he got from his brother who lives in Japan. For the most part, I don't mind that Dahn often does his own thing. I wouldn't want a guide who was always blabbbing in my ear. But sometimes I wish he gave us a little more information about the areas that we are passing through.



Another funny thing about Dahn is that after taking a three year break from drinking alcohol, he began drinking again just a few days before our trek. Last night again we had some local millet wine and Dahn definitely got a little tipsy. He told me that we were brothers and that I should come back to Kathmandu and have a big dinner with his wife and two boys. He also mentioned numerous times that his wife is an excellent cook. It was fun having a drink with Dahn, but I am done with alcohol for the time being. I feel like I am getting sick, and with the increased altitude, I don't want to push my luck.

Also at the dinner table last night were our two new best friends, the Austrian couple named Peter and Dorothy. More on them in a minute. The final person at our dinner table last night was a burly Frenchman who was returning from a climbing expedition to some insane 7,000 meter peak that I had never heard of. This guy was extreme to the max, but also quite a bit arrogant. I guess you have to be arrogant if you are going to risk your life climbing mountains. He told us about some of his climbs, as well as some adventures in Tibet and Pakistan. Back at home in France he works as a mountain guide in the Alps. He likes to comes to the Himalayas to climb for pleasure. All in all, this French guy was quite bad ass.

But back to Peter and Dorothy, who seem to have become our best friends ever. As I mentioned, this inititally happened because Dahn is good friends with their guide, whose name is Pasang. So we spent most of the day walking with them, and have shared a table with them at the last three or four meals. I found out last night that Peter works as a personal business consultant. I assumed that this meant he advised companies on how to downsize etc, but he explained that he actually works with CEOs to help them meet their personal goals and live a fruitful life. When he told me that he also works with individuals outside the business world, I realized that Peter was actually what we in the States call a "Life Coach." Kudos Peter! As a couple, Peter and Dorothy are adorable and today they wore matching blue jackets to go with their matching red backpacks. I wonder how many more days they will be our unofficial travel partners.



Well this has been a pretty long entry so I think I will wrap it up. We are spending the night in a very small village (they are all small villages) called Dharapani. We are at 1860m and we have a 800m climb ahead of us tomorrow. Time to rest up!


DAY 4: October 22, 2009. Dharapani (1860m) to Chame (2670m)

I woke up today with a bad sore throat and an uncomfortable ear that I was unable to pop. After a breakpast of oatmeal with fresh apples, we packes our stuff and got on our way. As I write this, the power has gone off in the lodge we are staying at in Chame. Of course, it wouldn't be a day in Nepal without a blackout! I now write by candlelight. Some rowdy French trekkers have managed to continue playing Yatzee despite the diminished visibility.

Anyways, as soon as we started walking today, my left ear really began to throb. I knew instantly that I had an ear infection and had to find some antibiotics. Unfortunately, the next health post wasn't until Chame which meant I had to wait it out for the rest of the day before I could get some medication.

The first few hours were pretty mild in terms of the terrain. My ear was hurting but my body was doing OK. Then came a very steep climb through a wooded area that lasted about an hour. As we climbed higher, I noticed that the plants were changing. Earlier on, the landscape was dominated by an almost tropical array of plants. This included a plethora of wild marijuana plants. The plants themselves were quite dried up, and although the leaves looked quite pretty, there were no buds to be found. Either the plants were out of season or some enterprising trekkers had picked the plants clean.



In any event, as we climbed higher, we saw more and more trees. I believe they were pine trees or perhaps firs. On the occasion that we could see a high mountain, these trees would climb up the hillside in interesting patterns. At a certain point, they would simply stop. This meant that the "tree line" was in our sight. I really enjoyed looking at these thin, green treets and observing the patterns they formed on the side of the mountain.

After a long haul, the steep inline came to a conlusion. At this point, I had become quite hungry which was fortunate because it was time for lunch. Despite my throbbing ear, I was able to put it aside and truly enjoy how wonderful our lunch was. We ate in a very small village of just a few huts and lodges called Timang. We had lunch on a rooftop patio which gave us an astounding, serene view of the surrounding mountains.






Needless to say, we dined with our Austrian friends Peter and Dorothy, and we have essentially joined forces and formed a very oddly paired expedition. The fifty year old Austrians and then us. The expedition is rounded out by the two guides, Dahn and Pasang, as well as three porters. Dorothy and Peter have a bigger crew than us and have two porters in addition to their guide. Each of their porters is carrying a very large bag and I often wonder why they brought so much stuff and what it all is.

We usually walk a little bit apart from them and then meet up for meals. Despite our difference in age, I think that we all get along quite well. They are also vegetarian, and project a slight hippy vibe, or as Peter calls them, 68ers. We have had some interesting conversations and all in all I think we are on the same page. Today at lunch Peter said he though we had a very nice group.

Anyways, the view at lunch was astounding and it marked the first time where I really felt like I was high up in the mountains. Up until this point we had been inside the valley and were only able to catch glimpes of the mountains. But at lunch we were out in the open and it felt liberating. I was really happy at lunch.

We finished the rest of the day's journey to Chame in just under three hours. Once we checked into the lodge, Mimi and I went with Dahn to find the health post. After a bit of asking around, we found it and I met with the doctor. He quickly diagnosed me with an ear infection and gave me the appropriate medicine. I was very relieved. I should be better in two or three days.

As I write this, the French Yatzee players are becoming increasingly loud and obnoxious. Peter and Dorothy, who are sitting across from me, have become visibly annoyed as well by the ruckous and I find this very endearing. You see, something like loud Yatzee players is just the kind of thing that would annoy Mimi and I too. Kindred spirits!

Despite getting sick, I can say with certainty that this is one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I never would have that that I would be where I am now, bundled up in a cozy mountain lodge in the middle of the Nepali Himalayas. I'm truly grateful to be able to have this experience and I can't wait until we get even higher up into the mountains.

Right now in Chame we are at 2760m. The voyage tomorrow will take us to another village called Pisang, which is at around 3300m. This is without a doubt the highest I will have ever been in my life. It will also bring us even closer to the Annapurna range, which I have learned is a very shy mountain range, meaning that its peaks are often hidden behind clouds. In any event, I can't wait to get back out there tomorrow. My legs are sore, but I feel that I am close to approaching a solid groove and that in a day or two, the hikes will be absolutely no problem for me.

The Yatzee crowd has been served their dinner and they are now much quieter. Hopefully it will last.


DAY 5: October 23, 2009. Chame (2670m) to Pisang (3200m)

Much like yesterday, today was full of ups and down. Less so in terms of the terrain, which was basically one big uphill climb. But in terms of my health and outlook, today was quite a bumpy ride. The day started as it always does, with a 7am breakfast followed by an 8am departure. Only this morning, I woke up utterly freezing. It is remarkable what a difference the sun makes. If the sun is out, I quickly become hot and sweaty. For the first few days I was even trekking in shorts. But if the sun goes down or falls behind some clowds, the temperature drastically plummets. Accordingly, the days have been quite hot and the nights have become increasingly cold. This morning, the cold stuck with me and I wasn't able to warm up until about an hour into the day's hike.

This was bad news, because I knew it was important to stay warm so that I could recover from my cold and ear infection quickly. On top of the cold, this morning involved a very strenous ascent up through the valley. It wore me out pretty quickly and I was quite relieved when we made it to the lunch break.

After lunch, the day became much better. We took lunch at a very warm area in a town called Dhikur Pokhari. Again, the view was astounding and it was great to recharge my body's batteries and enjoy the view.

Speaking of views, the scenery today was absolutely astounding. I've come to terms with the fact that I will be unable to adequately describe the things that I am seeing. Words such as tree, mountain, river and snow simply don't communicate the endless beauty of the Annapurnas. Also, it's not like there is one specific thing that is so strikingly beautiful. It is the sum of everything that makes walking here so enjoyable, and beauty is constant and everpresent. The hiking is challenging and the accomodations are modest (to put it mildly), but it's without a doubt worth it because I can say with certainty that there is no place else in the world that is quite like the Annapurna region of the Himalayas.












Where else would I be able to walk through a village with the sun beating down on me, look up and see soaring white mountaintops in all directions? The cliffs, the waterfalls, the creeks, the trees, the mountains. It all adds up to something previously unimaginable and causes me to say with regularity, "I can't believe where I am right now. How did I get here? Is this for real?"

Sometimes, the villages remind me of an old Western film, or what I imagine that the Wild West might have been like. It's not there are tumbleweeds and cowboys, but there is something about walking into a town of maybe six small huts, with maybe a donkey or a chicken closeby, and knowing that you are a solid four days walk from anything that might be considered "civilization."

Another great thing about today was that there wasn't a cloud in sight. Not only did this make the mountaintops perfectly visible, but the blue sky alone was amazing to look at. I can't remember ever seeing such a pure blue sky. This also put the polluted cities we had left behind into sharp perspective. In many ways I had become completely accustomed to the smoggy skies of Asian cities. But being out here really makes you appreciate a pure blue sky.






After lunch, we had a very short trip to the village of Pisang, where we are spending the night. Although I was far from fully recovered, I began to feel better during the walk after lunch. We arrived early enough in the day that Mimi and I were able to handwash our dirty socks and underwear and hang them out to dry. It was really nice to have a shorter day of walking.

We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the warmth of the sunb and chatting with two other travelers, a girl from London and a girl from Zimbabwe who now lives in Cambodia but seems to be perpetually traveling. Before we knew it, the late afternoon had come and we moved inside to the main dining area. Some porters had lit a wood stove to warm us up, but something went terribly wrong and smoke started billowing out of the stove. The smoke became so dense and acrid that we all had to move outside. It was quite cold by this point though so we all relocated to the kitchen and warmed up by the wood fire that was being used to cook our dinner.

Eventually, we moved back to the dining area, only to find three incredibly rambunxious five-year old Nepali boys running around like crazy without any pants. They were unbelievably cute but I have no idea why they weren't wearing pants. I guess rough-housing is just more fun that way. I also broke my rule of no photography of people and took this shot:



Later in the evening, after we had eater dinner, Dahn joined us by the stove and hung out with us and some other porters and guides. We had some good laughs. Some of Dahn's favorite English expressions include, "Why not, coconut?" and "Don't worry, chicken curry!" So tonight I taught him "See you later Alligator/In a while Crocadile." He got a tremendous kick out of this rhyme and I hope that he can work it into his repatoire.

Despite the smoke filled room, the lackluster food and the stinky squat toilet, I had a really nice time at this lodge in Pisang, whose name I don't even know. We are at 3200m and I can definitely feel that altitude. Tomorrow we have a long, strenous journey to Manang. Time for bed!

Trekking: Days 0, 1, and 2

Before I begin, I should mention that I initially intended to use my journal entries as a guide for writing this blog. I didn't want to directly use the journal because I felt that much of what I wrote in the journal would be a little bit boring for everyone to read. Does anyone really care what I ate for breakfast? But as I began writing this blog entry from scratch, I found myself continually copying entire sections from my journal. This complicated things, as portions of the journal are in present tense, while my blog entries are always in the past tense.

At the risk of boring some of my audience, I have deciced to simply copy my journal entries word for word. While my journal entries might not be quite as entertaining and exciting as some of my previous blog entries, I think that they better capture my mood during the trek, and definitely reflect better my specific emotions and feelings from day to day. I wrote by hand instead of computer, which was something I hadn't done in years. This made for a different style of writing, but I think it ultimately served me best. That being said, the introductory paragraphs were written on computer. I made the switch at the end of "Day 1." If the switch in tenses at that point seems awkward, just deal with it. Also, I don't think I will post this all in one entry, so check back often in the coming days for more trekking updates.

OK, enough clarifications and caveats, lets get on with it!

The Annapurna Circuit Trek is one of the most popular treks in all of Nepal. It may not have the romantic allure of the Everest Base Camp Trek -- after all, who doesn't want to catch a glimpse of the world's tallest peak? But Annapurna more than makes up for this by the diversity of its terrain, scenery, and people. The trek led me through lush, green valleys; dense alpine forests; stark desert-like landscapes of sad red shrubs and parched rivers; and freezing, snow-covered wastelands where there were no trees or plants at all. And that was only in the first week!

The trek also took me to some truly unique villages and holy sites. I saw Hindu temples and Buddhist prayer flags. At one point, we walked alongside a region whose culture and people are Tibetan in all but name. Tibet is in China, Upper Mustang is in Nepal. Over the past two weeks, I walked and walked and walked and walked. You see, that's exactly what trekking is. Trekking is putting one foot in front of the other and going. But let me rewind all the way to the beginning.

On October 18, the eve of our departure, we met up with Suman Dahal, the owner of the trekking agency we had chosen. A few days before, Suman had introduced us to our guide Raj, a very friendly man who spoke excellent English. We had spent a few days meeting with guides in attempt to find someone we trusted and felt we could get along with. Raj met this criteria and we were excited for him to show us the way and take care of us. When we arrived on the 18th to square away the details for the next morning, however, Suman told us blankly that Raj would not be available, and that a man named Dahn would be our guide.

Needless to say, I was furious. We had already paid in full for the 16 days of trekking, and now we were getting a totally different guide than the one we had picked. I felt duped. I made a half-hearted attempt to chat with our new guide, but I was just too perturbed to give him a fair chance. I argued with Suman and tried to negotiate a discount, arguing that we simply weren't getting what we paid for. He was skilled at deflecting my rage though, and all I came away with was a few free nights at a hotel in Pokhara, which is the trek's termination point. Mimi and I held a pow-wow, and we decided that the only option was to be zen about the situation. Dahn would be our guide, and that was that.

At first, Dahn was quite shy and quiet. He seemed to speak decent English, but wasn't nearly as sociable and articulate as Raj had been. We spent the next hour with him sorting out our sleeping bag rentals. At first, he took us to a place that had a pretty ragged selection or bags, many of which had funky smells and broken zippers. He looked dismayed at the quality of the bags though, and after a quick call to his boss Suman, he told us we would go to a different place. After waiting for what seemed like forever, Dahn finally came back with two brand new sleeping bags. This guy might be alright, I thought. We said goodbye to Dahn for the evening, and agreed to meet him at our hotel the next morning at 6:30 am.

DAY 1: October 19, 2009. From Kathmandu (1337m) to Bhulbhule (840m).

I didn't sleep much that night because I was just too excited and nervous for the days ahead. I did my best though, and before I knew it, the alarm was going off. Our adventure had begun. Dahn met us promptly at six thirty and introduced us to Ramji, who would be our porter. I will go into much more detail about porters later, but a porter's job is solely to carry our stuff for us. Dahn had just met Ramji himself for the first time just a few minutes before meeting with us, so we spent the taxi ride to the bus station making awkward small talk. I quickly surmised that Ramji spoke virtually no English.

The bus was supposed to leave at 7:00, but didn't leave until 7:30 so we had some tea at the bus stop along with some pastries that Mimi and I had bought the night before. Eventually the bus got on its way. In typical Nepali fashion, it then idled at various densely populated intersections and trolled for passangers. Finally, the bus filled up and we were on our way. The driver must have had a lead foot though because after some initial slowgoing through the city traffic, we tore through the countryside.



The road was well paved enough, but had many ups and downs, as well as many sharp turns. We were making incredibly good time, given the conditions. For most of the trip the road also ran alongside a river that had many rapids and fast flowing water. I had purchased the weekend edition of the International Herald Tribune the night before. This enabled me to do the NY Times Sunday crossword puzzle on the bus, which I thought was very funny. Hear I am, I thought, just doing the Sunday puzzle while blazing through the Nepali countryside on the bus from hell. No big deal!

At about 1 pm we arrived in Besisahar, a small town that marks the beginning of the Annapurna Circuit Trek. We still had over four hours of sunlight so Dahn suggested that we walk for a few hours to a town called Bhulbhule, which is quite comically pronounced, Boobily. As we walked through Besisahar, we came across some children playing a gambling game that involved some cool wood blocks with various symbols and a big mat with matching symbols. The game was essentially "dice," and Dahn asked if we wanted to join in. I figured I could spare a couple of Rupees so I hopped in a played a few rounds.



It turns out I didn't have much luck though, so I packed up early and we got back on our way. As we left Besisahar, the road transformed into a path. That was the moment when it truly sank in for me. Up until that point I somehow hadn't quite grasped what trekking literally is. We would be walking the entire way. The road had simply ended. Walking was the only option. In a world where some people refuse to walk just a few blocks and can't even concieve of the notion of walking for pleasure, trekking is indeed quite a foreign idea. Away we go.

Over the next few hours, we got to know Dahn much better. He is an amicable, kindhearted man of thirty five years. With his backwards hat and hairless chin, however, he could probably pass for ten years younger. The more time we spent chatting, the more I began to trust him and truly believe that he would look after us and take care of us. Yes, Suman had possibly pulled a bait and switch, but I thought that Dahn was actually a pretty cool guy. As we walked, we talked about the United States and fat people and McDonalds and Nepali food and his family. We also told him why it was funny that the village we were headed to was called Boobily.

As we talked and walked, I soaked up the scenery, which was quite beautiful, but not exactly breathtaking. It's only the first day though! The roaring river that ran parallel to the first path we were walking on was my favorite part of the first day. But I also enjoured the surrounding hills and also the small villages that we passed through.

Along the way we ran into a few other trekkers, but for the most part we had the path to ourselves. We also crossed several rickety suspension bridges and one very wobbly bamboo bridge. Looking down at the river below me was very nerve-racking but quite exhilerating!



Just before we arrived in Bhulbhule, it began to rain very hard. It would turn out that this would be the only rain we would encounter for the entire trek. Dahn was surprised that it was raining so we decided to wait under an awning for the rain to pass. It simply wouldn't let up though so we eventually made a break for it and ran across another pedestrian bridge that led into the village. Dahn quickly picked out a lodge and we got back inside. We were soaked.

The lodge was incredibly simple, but also peaceful and comforting. It was built exclusively from wood, and I could see through the little slits between the wood and into the room next to us. Auditory privacy was simply out of the question. The power was out for nearly the entire evening and the only toilet was essentially an outhouse, but the vibe was very positive among the other trekkers and the sound of the nearby roaring river was incredibly soothing.

In the evening, we sat on the patio and chatted some more with Dahn. There were some other trekkers hanging out as well but we didn't really chat with them. While we waited for our dinner to be made, we drank some local wine called Raxchi that Dahn had bought for us. He believed it was made out of barley or millet. It tasted sort of like a combination between bad sake and watered down whiskey. All in all, I didn't really like it very much but I was glad to try something new. While we were drinking, we also came across this cool looking bug that was attracted to our candle.



We're now retired to our room for the night and warmed up in our sleeping bags. It was quite hot during the day but it has really cooled down at night. We are still below 1,000 meters elevation, so I can only imagine how cold it will be higher up. I am very tired from the day's events which is good because the alarm is once again set for 6:00 am. Another exciting day awaits!

DAY 2: October 20, 2009. From Bhulbhule (840m) to Jagat (1300m)

Today was our first full day of trekking and I am realizing more and more how extreme trekking is. We woke up at six fifteen, packed up our sack and put in an order for breakfast. I had a lemon tea, two fried eggs and some Tibetan bread, which was a very oil, round chewy bread.

By 8:00 am we were back on the trail and on our way. That morning we shared our breakfast table with an Austrian couple named Dorothy and Peter. They were in their late 40s or early 50s and I was impressed with how adventerous they were, not to mention how athletic. Our guide Dahn is friends with their guide from many years ago. Later in the day we had lunch with the same couple again, but we did not actually hike alongside them.

The first few hours of walking were relatively flat, but at about ten am we began a gradual but challenging climb of about 400 meters. For the next several days we will be trekking through the same valley alongside the same river, which is called the Marsyangdi Nadi. I love this river and think that "robust" would be the best word to describe it. It has many fierce rapids and a very healthy flow. Some times its waters look a bit murky, but other times it has a beautiful light blue color. The river is at the bottom of a reasonably deep valley. On each side, the hills go up quite high. While this makes the valley quite beautiful, it also obscures the snow-capped Annapurna Range that is just west of us!



We did get a brief glimpse of the Himalayas early this morning though. We saw two peaks of the Manaslu Range, which are to the northeast of us. I can't express how excited I am to get to a higher elevation and get even better, more close up views of these mountains. The white of the snow is simply amazing.



The hike today was quite tiring. The terrain is very jagged and rough. There is a clear path to follow, but it is littered with many stones and rocks, as well as the occasional stream that we have to hop over. The most difficult part of the day came at the very end, when we had to climb up from the bottom of the valley along a very steep, zigzagging path. At times it was so steep that I had to use my hands to help me. It was also quite dramatic because as we climbed up, a large group of "transport donkeys" were on the way down. There were also many other trekkers in this area going much slower than us and the result was something of a traffic jam.



I also got to know Dahn even better today. He is a funny but straightforward guy and I have definitely come to trust him. We don't really speak to our porter, Ramji, because he is often walking ahead of us or behind us. His load is quite heavy (although not nearly as heavy as some other loads we have seen) and he has to concentrate and go at his own pace. At the same time, he can't fall too far behind us. His job is supremely diffiult and it amazes me that anyone can verry such a heavy load for the entire day, let alone 16 days straight. People say you shouldn't feel bad for the porters because they are lucky to have a job. This is true. Working as a trekking porter you can make between $7-15 a day, which is much much more than the average Nepali makes. In fact, Dahn told us that many Nepalis believe it is rude to carry your own pack because you are coming into Nepal but denying a Nepali employment. I still can't help but feel bad for the porters who can carry up to 35 kilos, which is over 80 pounds. Unbelievable.



Tonight we are staying in a small village called Jagat. It is at an elevation of 1300 meters and is basically a cluster of trekking lodges along one strip of a dirt path. I wouldn't be surprised if less than 100 people lives in the whole village. We are staying at the Paradise Hotel. Last night it was the Heaven Hotel. We took a shower as soon as we got here in a very dirty bathroom with no hot water. Normally, I would complain, but we are in a poor, remote area with I'll gladly take what I can get. The price of a double room here amounts to about $3.33. The accomodations are quite modest, to say the least.

The place seems quite full of other trekkers and we saw many other trekkers throughout the day. They are nearly all European, with the occasional Israeli or American thrown into the mix. Some are trekking in big groups with as many as five or six porters. Others are going independently without a guide or porter and are carrying their own sack. It is a very strange thing, for all of these foreigners, myself included, to be wandering through these poor villages. It is true that we are bringing money into the local economy, but we are also cauing many problems, the biggest of which is empty plastic water bottles. Bottled water is very expensive on the trail so we are drinking local water but putting chlorine drops in to purify it. I'm not sure how successful this will be, but so far so good. I am definitely nervous about getting sick though given how sick I was in Darjeeling.

Another strange think about the other trekkers is the way that some of them interact with the villagers. I've seen many Westerners taking pictures of the local people, especially children, without asking their permission. I think this is very rude and just wish those people would stop for a second and imagine what it would be like for them if a foreigner showed up in theiry backyard and started snapping shots of their children. That being said, the children here are devastatingly cute and I want nothing more than to snag a couple of photos. So far, I have been able to resist this temptation. Earlier today though, a little girl approached us and wanted to see my camera. I let her take some shots of her friend, and this is the resulting picture. I'm hoping I can get into a Soho gallery when I get back to the states, or something.



It is also interesting to note how less shy people are here, when compared to the people we met in the villages throughout the Kathmandu Valley. Here, the children are so used to seeing foreigners that they don't even bother to say Namaste! or giggle at us. The villages near Kathmandu don't see many foreigners, and the people were much more shy and curious about us, but also more friendly.

Tomorrow will be a big day for us. It will be almost entirely uphill and through a lot of rough terrain. I hope that tonight I can get a good night's sleep. Last night we feel asleep early, at about 9 pm, but I woke up a little bit after  midnight and had to pee. The bathroom was two floors down and outside, and the flashlight guided voyuage was quite scary. I couldn't fall back asleep until about 1:30.

We walked for about seven hours today though, so I am hoping that I can sleep like a baby. Hopefully the French people in the room next to us won't be too loud. It's been known to happen before.

I'm Baaaaaaaaaack!

It has been over two weeks since I have updated my blog. The reason of course is that I've been trekking in the Himalayas, where there is definitely no internet access. I have so much to write about and I'm not exactly sure how to go about doing it. I didn't bring my little computer with me, but instead wrote each day in a marble notebook. I had initially planned to copy my journal onto my blog, but upon re-reading it, I realized I included far too many mundane, quotidian details. But hey, that's what a diary is for, right? So instead, I will use my journal as inspiration and guidance for my upcoming blog entries, and perhaps quote sections of it from time to time.

I do want to say unequivocally that the trek was hands down one of the best experiences in my entire life. Everything about it - the physical challenge, the environment, the scenery, the people - combined to make it such a memorable, special experience. If you are an able-bodied individual with a sense of adventure, I recommend you make it your beeswax to get to Nepal and do some trekking. 


Right now we are in Pokhara, which, as a result of its stunning Himalayan views, is essentially Nepal's premier tourist haven. Having just spent two weeks looking close up at these very mountains, Pokhara isn't that impressive to me. But we have a warm shower and a clean toilet, which is far more than I can say for the trek. There are also some great used bookstores here. Yesterday I picked up a copy of Jurassic Park, which I am very excited to read. We have two more days here to relax and catch up on everything. Then we take a bus/train combo into India, to the hectic but holy city of Varanasi.

I also realized that I never wrote about my last few days in the Kathmandu Valley. At this point, I think it's a bit too late to go into my normal level of detail, so I'm afraid our failed mountain bike trip and our quite successful hikes to Changu Narayan Temple and through the villages of Kirpitur and Chobar will disappear into the travel ether. I did, however, get a chance to write a little about the Hindu festival of Diwali before we left for the trek. I just never got a chance to post it. Please scroll down to check out this short post. 

I also wanted to mention that before we left Mimi uploaded a ton of great photos from Kathmandu. If you go to mimishang.blogspot.com you will find some of them. You will find even more on her facebook page. Here is the link.

So, please stayed tune for some posts in the coming days. We took over 800 photos while on the trek and we've picked out a bunch of the best ones. Now all I have to do is get them uploaded using the constantly questionable Nepali internet and write about all the stuff we did. Coming soon!

In the mean time, here is a teaser photo. Dang!

Diwali

Today was the first day of Diwali, or Dipawali, as it seems to be called in Nepal. Diwali is perhaps the biggest Hindu festival and is a big occasion every year. We've been hearing of it's impending arrival ever since we came to India. In the abstract, I think of a Hindu festival or holiday as a very traditional occasion. While this is definitely still true, Diwali is also remniscent of American holidays in how it relates to advertising. Stores have been offering "Diwali" sales, warning that we should buy now because the sale won't last past Diwali. My favorite was definitely the TV advertisement for an upcoming Bollywood film, which began with, "Coming this Diwali." Now imagine that being said by the "In a world..." movie preview guy, only with an Indian accent.

So finally today Diwali is upon us, and it is a really great holiday. Without going into the details of what Diwali actually is, I will instead write about how people celebrate, and what the atmosphere has been like here in Nepal. All day people have been setting off firecrackers and sparklers. Every household or store has also drawn a red walkway out onto the sidewalk and put a little offering on the ground. Sometimes its just a banana, but other times it is much more elaborate. The offering is always inside a circle, and depending on the artistic abilities of the family, the circle might include much more elaborate designs. It is a very beautiful tradition and it was very interesting to walk around and look at all of the drawings on the sidewalk.





Then, as the sun went down, the holiday really came alive. For starters, the firecracker ratio increased drastically, to the point where I had to put in my ear plugs as we walked around. Also, hordes of little boys would walk from store to store all singing the same chant, which from my observations might be loosely translated as, "It's a holiday so we get to ask for money. Give us some money or a treat!" In this sense, Diwali is a bit like Halloween I suppose. But the best part about this evening was the candles. Every single house and nearly every window was lit with a candle. This was made even more dramatic by the fact at the time Kathmandu was suffering from one of its constant blackouts. Normally, the blackouts (which happen literally two to three times a day) are very annoying, but with all of the candles aglow, the blackout was much welcomed.