The next day we headed to Chanlongpun University to take a break in their air-conditioned Library before catching our flight in the evening. Unfortunatly the Library was closed but we met a really cool Thai student and spent the rest of the day hanging out with him. He wants to start a Eco-tourism business near his home village in Southern Thailand (near Hat Rin) and he had lots to say about what's lacking in Thai education. It was a little scary how well he knew western culture -- he even pulled out a quotation from Sartre.
Our flight left that night and as the time approached I began to feel worse and worse. I had had a bit of a cold back in the U.S. but thought I had it beat...it had other ideas. Or perhaps it had pummelled my immune system just enough to give the upper hand to one of its Asian cousins. In any case, I wasn't feeling so good when we pulled into Dhaka that night.
Dhaka was shear insanity. We got in past midnight but even then the outside of the airport was packed with people. And when I say packed, I mean packed in the sense that you physically could not jam more people in that space. It was a sea of dark faces over a sheet of white robes.
The next morning we learned that there had been some riots and a big strike the day before so it wasn't safe for foreigners to leave the hotel. They watched us like hawks. So Jason and I sat on a second floor balcony and observed what we could. It's by far the poorest country I've ever seen. So sad. I won't go into all the gory details here.
Anyway, we made it to Kathmandu that afternoon without incident. By this time we had pretty much gotten to know all the other English speakers on the flight and Jason and I teamed up with two Sweedes, a Kiwi, and a Hawaiian from New Jersey.
That's all for now.
March 10, 2001
Yesterday was the Holi Festival, celebrated throughout Nepal and in most parts of India. There is some religious significance, but even Nepalis struggle to recall what it is. The real important thing is how it is celebrated: By dousing everyone you see with water and smearing them with red paint!
It really is unlike anything I've ever seen. All the ground-level shops were closed. Walking on the streets was a task frought with peril as there were water ballons and even whole buckets of water being dumped from the rooftops. By mid-morning things were really beginning to heat up: Water fights broke out between rival rooftops, and huge soggy crowds would engulf those who dared to walk in the streets in dry clothes. When they emerged from these crowds, the dazed victims were drenched head to foot and their faces and clothes smeared red. I ventured no further than a restaurant for some food, but that was enough to get a red face and my clothes drenched by a water-filled plastic bag that exploded at my feet! By two in the afternoon virtually everyone was soaked and stained and mobs of people --Nepalis and tourists-- marched around singing chants and gleefully smearing paint on those they passed even as they were reduntandly hit with even more water from above. What a town!
...
So where have I been these last three weeks? What an adventure!
When I last left you, Jason and I had just arrived in Kathmandu with our new friends from the plane flight in. We found a room at the Cosy Corner Lodge, in the heart of the tourist district, for Rs150 ($2) a night. Unfortunately, the little sore throat I had had in Colorado had blossomed into a full scale illness, undoubtable assisted by a sleepless night in Dhaka and endless hours standing around airports and wrestling with local transport.
Even after a full day of rest I was feeling no better. Johannes, Richard, and Damion (the aforementioned Sweedes and American from the flight) were heading off to Pokharra to do the Annapurna Sanctuary trek. After getting my assurances that it really was okay, Jason headed off with them and I remained behind to sleep and try to get well.
March 11, 2001
So now I was feeling better and the chase was on! An email from Jason confirmed they were doing the Sanctuary Trek and said they were leaving on Monday. I stayed in Kathmandu through Wednesday to see the Shivarattri festival with Chris and Mariah. This is Shiva's birthday and the place to be is the Pashupatti temple here in Kathmandu. Unfortunatly, everyone in town and thousands of people from India had the same idea and a lot more patience (a seven-hour wait to get in!) so I didn't see a whole lot.
The next morning I was on a tiny bus heading for Pokharra, the second biggest city in Nepal and a major center for trekking. In true Nepali fashion, the bus trolled through Kathmandu picking up local passengers until the bus was full before actually setting off.
It's supposed to be a six hour ride, but it turned out to be more like eight because our bus broke down every hour or so. The bus manager (What else to call him?) would flag down a passing motorcyclist and come back a few minutes later with some spare part that would keep us going for a few more miles.
From the bus I got my first real look at the Himilayas and WOW! what a mountain range! It is absolutely indescribable. To be chugging along through tropical jungle and banana trees, yet to look out over several layers of foothills and small mountains, and then behind everything is this uninterrupted skyline of white towering peaks more jagged than anything I've seen in the Rocky Mountains. It seemed so unreal, like some huge cardboard prop that had been stuck in front of the sky.
That night I stayed in the village of Landruk (Elevation ~1500m) at a small guesthouse that gave me a whopper of a price - Rs20 for a night. (About 30 cents) I was soon joined by Frank and Mihaela from Germany, who had met doing the Annapurna Circuit. They had been out for 23 days and this was their last night before heading back to civilization. We stayed up late talking about how do decide what to do with your life, Dostoevski and Tolstoy, and the Romantic Movement's use of the moth and flame as an analogy for a man's attraction to a woman.
By the way, staying up "late" while trekking means going to bed at nine o'clock. The standard Nepali bedtime in the hills is strictly eight. (And even in Kathmandu, the entire city is shut down by ten.)
The next day was cloudy and damp, but highlighted by a report from passing Swiss trekkers that they had met a Jason in Chomrung several days ago and he was probably going to the Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) as we spoke. They had had to turn back because of illness, suspected to be food poisoning.
By the time I made it to Chomrung that day the dampness was turning to rain and the warm, dry guesthouse dining rooms looked pretty good. From Chomrung up to ABC there is only one path, so I felt good knowing Jason would have to walk past me to get out. That night I stayed with two Dutch couples, three Spaniards, and their two guide-porters. One of the couples, Jochum and Emmie, I would go on to see many more times!
...
I'm realizing that I could really get bogged down in the details of trekking and that this really is not of too much intest to those of you at home. Perhaps I should spend more time talking about what I saw and less about place names that you don't know?
Anyways, the scenery up to this point was amazing, but in a very different sense than I imagined. Yes, the hills I was hiking through were very big -- very much bigger than anything I've seen in the States -- but the incredible part was how almost every inch of them were terraced and being farmed. In some places slope was so steep that the terraces were merely a meter or two wide! It's as if several thousand people moved into Boulder Canyon and began farming (without the road at the bottom!).
The next two days were spent hiking up the narrow and narrowing canyon up to base of the high mountains. The nice stone steps became more and more rare, and traffic on the trail thinned to a few porters carring loads to higher villages and a handful of other trekkers.
Porters here, and throughout Nepal, carry there loads in a very unusual fashion: The load is on their back, but held to their body by a rope that comes up, around and accross the forehead, usually with some kind of pad. The loads they can carry are incredible, putting even the most fitness-crazed Boulder yuppie to shame. It was a common sight to see a porter carrying a basket filled with three very-full trekkers' backpacks, and on two occasions I saw men carrying 100kg bags of concrete! (221 lbs!) And all this is done in flip flop sandals!
At night I would stay in guest houses located in the little villages along the way. This is a fairly popular route so there were plenty. Luckily the main trekking season wouldn't start for another month so the trails and the guest houses were empty. The hub of every guest house is the dining room, consisting of a large table surrounded by built-in benches. The edge of the table is lined with a blanket hanging to the floor. At night when the temperature dips low, a propane heater is placed under the center of the table and all the guests sit around the table with their legs underneath. The hanging blankets keep the heat in.
March 11, 2001
Today I spent the day shopping and learning my way around greater Kathmandu. It felt good to get out of the tourist ghetto. It didn't feel so good to get utterly crushed in the bargaining process! I came away with some nice cotton convertable pants for Thailand, a new wallet, some overpriced green dress shoes (and why do I need these for traveling?), and a Neplai Rock-n-Roll Tape (Cobweb!). We also stumbled across the local movie theatre, and tonight we're going to see the latest Balliwood flick. I hear it doesn't matter too much that you can't understand the language for these films!
March 12, 2001
Back in Thailand after another one night layover in Dhaka, Bangledesh. It wasn't quite so startling this time. I think it's a phenomena that other travelers have noticed; how everything is sort of overwhelming at first. After cruising around Nepal for almost a month Bangledesh seems about on par.
At the town of Deurali ("Pass") I hit snow. We had to leave early as the stretch between it and Machupuchare Base Camp (MBC) had several very active avacalanche areas. We got past without incident and as I made the final accent to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) I saw a familiar form coming down the snowy trail! It was Jason and an entorage of Swedes! We agreed to meet the next day in Chomrong after I had made it to base camp.
Once at MBC the valley gives way to a fantastic site-- imagine an ampitheatre as big as a city, rimmed all around by 6, 7, and 8000 meter peaks accissible only by a small notch at one end. No wonder they call it the Sanctuary. The air was perfectly still, interrupted only occasionally by the deep rumble and crack of the ice loosening it's grip on the steep slopes.
I spent the night at ABC, elevation 4130 meters: high enough that sleep was restless and cold enough that the water in my Nalgene bottle was frozen in the morning. I was up for early for the sunrise, which was doubly amazing. The peak of Annapurna I (elevation 8500+ metrse) was the first to light up in brilliant orange and yellow, and soon the entire sanctuary had a soft red hue.
After a four hour hike the next day (Which is supposd to take seven! -- We rock!), civilization was only a taxi ride away: A four hour ride with five passengers plus driver crammed into the tiny 70's-era Toyota Corrola! I really got to know the other passengers (Sebastion, Elka, and Ericka) as we endured the jarring bumps and --of course-- a flat tire on the by-definition-only "roads" leading out of the mountains.