Kelly in Nepal

Goodbye to Nepal

2007-02-07T05:08:00.000-08:00

Well, it's over. I managed to say goodbye to 150 kids and staff who all ran after the taxi crying and waving. Tough stuff, I tell ya. It was good though. It was one of those good sadnesses. Not the empty kind but the kind that would make you do it again. Whoa nelly! Not that I would do it again right away. Psh. I tell you, being able to breathe clean air again, sit on a toilet, let a machine wash my clothes and eat a variety of foods is really enjoyable right now. I think I'll really take the time to appreciate it for a while before I jump into anything else.

So all in all, I'm glad I did it. I wasn't even sure if I liked kids before I went or if I was even good with them at all. I'm glad to know that I can handle a lot of sometimes difficult children and really enjoy it. And I know that everyone will think I'm crazy, but I actually miss the curry. Our cook made damn good curry. And no, I don't miss my dog yet although I'm sure she cries for me every night.

Alors, c'est tout. I'm now in Ireland visiting my brother. Other than the fact that his Polish roommates are dead set on shocking my liver after its three month dormancy, I'm once again in love with the island and am trying to figure out how I can live here. Maybe work on the peace progress in the North?? Who knows. For everyone who is desperate to see my shining face again, I'll be home on Sunday. And in one piece too.

I will post pictures when I get home, but as for more stories, you'll all have to wait for my next adventure.

The Shining

2007-01-30T23:03:00.000-08:00

To finish up my trip here in Nepal, I decided to get out of the valley a wee bit. This might seem odd to those who just can't wait to get back to the valley (like me...to the Ottawa Valley). But the Kathmandu valley is a different story. I decided to rent some bicycles with another volunteer and ride into the country.
Like all things involving time in Nepal, everything is relative. For instance, we were told that the bike ride to Nagarkot would take 2 hours. First of all, there was no mention of the entire expedition being uphill and second, we were rescued after 7 hours.

Adam, you think me hobbling on a sprained ankle to the cliff's edge over the Bay of Fundy was dangerous?? Try riding a bicycle through the streets of Kathmandu. Not only are there no rules, but one must dodge whacko drivers, wayward holy cows, water buffalo and frequent snot rockets from third storey windows. Needless to say, it was a relief to get out of the cursed city. The bike ride through the countryside was incredible. It reminded me that everything in the country is better; the water, the people, the air. It was so wonderful, we didn't even mind the difficult climb up the mountain...for the first few hours. Long story short, it was gruelling. The mountain was so steep and the roads so terrible that we spent much of the trip pushing our bikes.

Halfway to our destination, we came to Shanku; a tiny ancient village. Because there was a festival happening, the usual low population had exploded and there were people everywhere, coming to bathe in the river. Of course with the pilgrims, came scores of vendors with glass bracelets, doughnuts and red powder. There were also henna artists and a ferris wheel, travelling at an unnerving speed. On the way out of town, we picked up some followers; children who ran alongside our bikes for about 3km until another group of kids picked up where the others grew weary.

Fast forward through more gruelling uphill riding. It was dark, we were exhausted, we had come to a crossroads and we had no idea where we were. A trio of men happened to come up the road and ask us where we were going. After hearing our plans, the leader announced that he himself owned a cheap hotel only ten minutes uphill. If we had had more energy in us, we perhaps might not have accepted his offer, but we didn't and so we did. Him and some others carried our bikes up the hill through some very sketchy pathways. I asked my companion in French (a great, sneaky tool for hiding dialogue from english-speaking Nepalis) if she figured we'd be robbed and beheaded but we were both too exhausted to care.

We ended up at the most incredible resort, perched on the edge of the mountain and we were to be charged a whopping $5 each. I thought that it was far too good to be true. When we found out that we were the only guests at the hotel, I thought, 'great. We've walked right into "The Shining".' The next thing I know, we'll have Jack Nicholson chopping down our bedroom door with an axe. We got the best room, with a balcony facing east, so that we could watch the sunrise over the Himalayas.

We were woken up at 6:30, (we got to sleep in!), and sat out in the courtyard to watch the sunrise. I never can get over how fast the earth is moving and how fast the sun climbs over the horizon. We were so high up that the sun didn't rise over the mountains until 7:00am. From there, we could see the whole Himalayan range, including Everest. To top off the morning, I had french toast, tea, curd and a hot shower.

We headed back down the hill, with our fleece jackets wrapped around our seats (our ass bones had been seriously compromised on the bike ride up). After stopping to ask directions from some young girls carrying large baskets of greenery strapped to their heads, we were off and happy be to going downhill. Every adult we passed asked for cigarettes and every child asked for a rupee or some chocolate. We stopped at a temple where pilgrims were flocking to and climbed an infinite amount of stairs. Luckily, an old man told us that we better not take our bikes and that we should store them in his hut. The temple was wonderful except for those damn monkeys again! My companion who is a Buddhist, bought an offering and was presenting it to the tara when this evil monkey leapt off the roof and pounced on her offering and ran away with it! Gosh! Those things are wicked!! I hate monkeys!

Anywho, we cycled back into Kathmandu and literally got a face full of grimey brown pollution. We had to stop to wipe our eyes and cough up the grime that had coated our throats. Sick. All in all, the trip was incredibly auspicious and I am very glad to have seen more of Nepal.

And that's all. Tomorrow is my last full day in Kathmandu. Can't wait to see everyone.

Monkeys and a Lady of the Night

2007-01-27T03:54:00.000-08:00

Ok ok, I know. I'm sorry. It's been tough you know, keeping on top of this blog. Not only have I been very busy, Nepal is slightly chaotic at the moment. For starters, there was yet another strike here which shut down everything; schools, businesses and all transportation. Luckily, it ended in Kathmandu and the airport was reopened. The Southern Terai region however, where the strike originated, seems to be going to hell just a tad. Not only is the general strike continuing, but there has also been a 20hr a day curfew imposed to try to stem the violence. It is on virtual lockdown and many of our employees and students have been stuck there for over two weeks.

Why you ask? Well, let me tell you how many strikes here develop. In this particular case, a bus hit and killed a pedestrian. In retaliation, the bus was torched. The bus drivers in Nepal then went on strike vowing not to return to work until the government replaced the bus. Seeing the bus drivers and 'anti-bus drivers' locking horns, many ethnic conflits have been reignighted and now everyone is fighting everyone. Any questions?

Anyway, generally, we are not too affected in Kathmandu anymore. I was going to go south to the jungle so that I could ride an elephant and see a rhino before all the poachers get them, but alas, it wasn't to be. Instead, I am going to rent a bike and go riding in the mountains for a couple days. I'm really looking forward to it.

In all other normal news, today I was driven off the road by a herd of water buffalo. Who else can say that, eh?? A couple of weeks ago, we took the older boys to Swayambu, the 'monkey temple'. (This is an aside for Adam: Darling, I know you really wanted a helper monkey to bring you drinks, but I don't think you really understand how sneaky those things are. I thought I loved monkeys too, but they just aren't who we think they are.) Seriously, those monkeys can not be trusted. No one can take food in with them or even smell like food or the monkeys will go to town. We had monkeys rip the bags right out of our hands. One in particular, sat on a pillar and was nano-seconds away from jumping on my back. He was bearing his teeth and screaming and everything. All because I was hiding a doughnut. Yah, the last thing I need right now is a monkey on my back.

As for home life, our dog has become quite the lady of the night. She has found a way to break out of her cage, jump over the wall and escape through the neighbour's yard. Since going MIA almost everynight, I've been noticing her middle getting a little plump. I just hope I'm gone before she poops out some puppies and we have to explain how we let her get knocked up by just some random neighbourhood scallywag.

Not sure if I mentioned it, but the kids are talking to us again. I'm glad that teenage resentment is usually pretty temporary. At least I'm getting good practice being hated, for when I'm a parent.

Oh yes, and just to add to the considerable inconviences of the strike and such, we are now on a new programme of about 6 hours of electricity a day. Since it is the dry season here, the hydro plant has been working at decreased capacity and we now lose power about 5 times a day. I suppose all in all, it is a good time to be heading home. Speaking of which, my departure to London is in six days.

I have found a tailor, about a 15 minute walk who is not only cheap, but is good and friendly. He is the only Muslim I have met in Nepal and he orders excellent tea whenever we come. Yesterday, I picked up two curtas (long blouses) that he had tailored for me. Not only did both pieces come to about $3.50, but he also insisted that he make me a blouse, on the house. Incredible. I tried very hard to give him more money but he adamantly refused. It is so nice in a place like this, to find someone who will charge a white person the same as a local and do it with a smile.

Well, this is a long entry, so I'll wrap it up. I just wanted to end with a little happy note. On my 30 second walk to Child Haven, there is a new puppy that is about the size of my hand. He loves me and I also love him very much. Everytime I walk by, I hug it and it licks my chin. That's all.

Busy Beaver

2007-01-18T21:59:00.000-08:00

Well, sorry. It's been awhile. It's tough trying to save the world and applying for grad school at the same time. Yes, I'm trying to figure out how to send a silly amount of documents to Canada before January 31st so that I can get even more in debt come September. I'll let you know if I get in (but let's not talk about it if I don't).

So it's been busy here. And it's also been awhile... so let's see... where can I start? I guess the last 8 days have seen good times and bad. Since the kids have been on vacation, we've done lots of fun stuff. We went on a great picnic last week. I have to say, it was surprisingly grueling climbing to the top of a mountain, not of course due to my tremendous physique and enviable athleticism, but because I was hauling a 40lb bucket of fried potatoes, uphill for an hour. The climb was so difficult but the potatoes were so exquisite, I still haven't decided if it was worth it. But we danced and blew bubbles and ate great food and had a marvelous time.

So school has begun and the last few days have been difficult. Moreorless, there is a general mutiny happening. The children not only are refusing to go to school, but also lied to us and management about when they were supposed to go back. Many of the kids are also on a self-imposed hunger strike (which hasn't seemed to have lasted more than a few hours at a time) because there has been a cut back in the amount of salt in their curry. Of the 30% who are going to school, about 60% miss the bus daily, creating yet another problem. Yesterday, the volunteers took over the discipline and made all the hookers (you know, those playing hookie) sit in a classroom all day just as if they were in school. Needless to say, I have two weeks left and all the children now hate me. I only have a couple of loyal ones that have decided to still mutter a couple of words to me. It's strange how quickly we forget what being a kid is like. I can't understand why they are being so difficult and I also don't enjoy being hated. I hope being teenagers, their moods will be short-lived and they will go back to liking me before I leave.

On the bright side, all our cohersion and guilt trips kinda-sorta worked as all the kids went to school today, but all emphatically, refusing to even look at us.

The other night I went to dinner with another volunteer at the home of the President of the American Himalayan Foundation. Just to give you a bit of a mental picture, he lived in a house in the Australian Embassy compound, had a houseboy (I don't know...male servant?) and some wonderful other treats. For example, he had two fire places. You don't know what it's like, sitting next to a fire of burning wood, instead of huddling around a burning pile of your own shit tickets. (used toilet paper) What a treat! And I had the most exquisite gin & tonic. My god, it tasted good and the smell reminding me of the juniper bushes back home.

Over dinner, which was a very nice meal of pasta and bread (crazy, eh??), we were privvy to a number of interesting stories of what Nepal was like back in the crazy days. What a nightmare! I'm very lucky that it is considerably more peaceful here now. I think I will tell everyone the details of the stories when I'm back home. Don't want to give my Mum any fodder for her incredible imagination.

The scary stories aside, I learned a number of interesting things that night. Well, as for the good things, this man and his organization live in relative prosperity compared to native nepalis here, but he does the most incredible work. I have seen scores of street children here, emaciated, filthy, violent and all huffing glue; even the little ones. These are the children that he targets. He offers them shelter, food, education and sponsorship into their adult lives. I am so relieved that someone is trying to tackle the problem with the most downtrodden children here.

The crazy bad news I heard was shocking. They just recently rescued a group of girls that had been traffiked to India. A Nepali, went from village to village, collecting money from families, with the promise of taking their children to Kathmandu to be housed and educated. What he would do however, was sell them (yes, SELL) to Christian houses in India. No kidding! There are hundreds of western evangelical organizations in India that are litterally buying souls. And they are aware of what they are doing! They buy the children and give them new names and everything. I couldn't believe it. For all the greenmen back home, don't worry; apparently, the catholics here are great.

Anyway, wish me luck on getting this application in on time. And also, wish me luck that the kids will like me again before I go.

Kelly the Buddhist?? Tsk.

2007-01-10T02:42:00.000-08:00

Ok, Ok. I know. Mum and Grandma probably have their index fingers poised above the mouse, ready to send that email to me demanding when the next posting will appear on my blog. Well here it is. The ol' pneumonia has been slowing me down a tad. Yes, it's true. My lungs have filled with some multi-coloured fluid, but I am now on the mend. I self-prescribed some penicillin and was so impressed by its affect that I went and got a book on Sir Fleming to read about the genius who invented it. Swell guy. And on a positive note, this is the first time in over two months in a third world country that I have taken antibiotics. Not bad.

So the kids here are all on holiday and we are attempting to alleviate their boredom. Yesterday, we took them to the movies. We packed 50 children onto the public bus, (the total coming to a whopping $4.00) and off we went into the city. After we got off, we had to walk down a very sketchy alley way, past an open sewer where I spotted a 9" rat and a dead dog in a bag, and into the courtyard of the movie theatre. Needless to say, it was a little tricky organizing 50 kids into five different movie theatres. I went to see Casino Royale, the new James Bond movie. Of course, being in Nepal, they cut all the racy sex scenes so there was a little too much hugging and not enough doing for my liking. But all in all, it was good and now all the boys want to be James Bond.

Today we decided to paint some of the dining hall chairs some wacky colours to keep the kids occupied. They did a great job. They also did a great job of getting it in their hair, all over their clothes and painting their shoes and my coat.
We also heated up a bucket of water and bribed all the little kids into lining up and getting their faces washed and applied with lotion. Because of the cold weather and the high altitude, their faces are really badly chapped. They actually enjoyed it because they never get to feel the sensation of hot water and by the end they had totally forgotten that we had got them to line up with the promise of chocolate, which was a complete fabrication.

My rat problem has finally come to an end. I put out poison and then not caring to wait to see the results, I gave my room to the new volunteer. Nice, I know. But I really couldn't take them trying to get in bed with me anymore. I was desperate. And plus, the new volunteer snores like a banshee and so no rat has dared to get into bed with her.

The other day, I went into the mountains and spent a day and a night at the Pullahari Monastery. It was incredible. Buddhists are so clean and quiet, it was very refreshing. And the air and the scenery were wonderful. We were so high up that the fog didn't reach us at all. It was such a great change from being enveloped in impenetrable whiteness for most of the day, which is a characteristic of Nepalese winters. In the afternoon, all the girls from Child Haven climbed the mountain and begged me to come back. I had planned on staying another night, but alas, I couldn't say no. It was probably a good thing anyhow. If I had stayed any longer, I might have become Buddhist. They are super people.

By the way, the internet cafe that I am in right now, is full of Buddhist cowboys. With hats and all. Isn't that wierd??

Well, the countdown has begun. Three weeks until I fly to London to see my darling brother. Four weeks until I once again fill that gaping hole in my mother's life.

I'd Rather Have the Cockroaches

2007-01-04T00:44:00.000-08:00

Ok, so traveling in Asia is known for being ridiculous at times. I was just thinking how lucky I had been to only have been subjected to cockroaches and nothing else too alarming. My flight was supposed to go Singapore-Delhi-Kathmandu in a nice clean time span of about 6 hours. Let me now tell you a tale of a young woman and how this simple plan turned into a freefall into the dirty snakepit of India.

My family drove me to the airport for my scheduled departure of 9:10am on January 2nd. Due to the fog (most likely smog) in Delhi, my flight was cancelled and would depart the following day. No big deal; another day to spend with my family. Ha. Not so fast. We call and discover that the flight is actually leaving that night at 9:00pm. No at 11pm. No definitely at midnight. We go back to the airport for my midnight flight and I bade goodbye to my family. Although the gate number on my boarding pass says 32 and the tv screen says 30, it is actually 49. Oh and the flight is delayed until 1:30am. By this point, I had been up since 6:00am and I was very tired. I crawled onto the plane and marveled at how lucky I was that I had gotten three seats to myself so I could lay down and sleep.

I managed to sleep for a few hours and woke up when we landed. It was 3:00am Indian time, two hours behind Singapore. We were off to a bad start. We had to remain on the plane for almost two hours while they 'sorted out' customs issues. Eventually, close to 5:00am they announced that we would have to surrender our passports to the crew before disembarking. I wasn't having any of it. I had never heard of a procedure like that. I put up a big stink and refused to give them my passport. They refused to let me off or anyone else behind me until I gave them my passport. Being 5:00am and having 75 livid Indians in line behind me, I handed over my passport.

While we were waiting to get the shuttle to the airport, I argued with a crew member as to why I had to give up my passport. He explained that they needed to get us transit visas because this wasn't an international airport. "Delhi isn't an international airport??" I balked. "Yes, it is, but we're in Kolkata". (Culcutta) Of course we are! Why wouldn't we be!? Perhaps they could have mentioned that to the passengers.

We were ushered into the airport where we were hearded from room to room for no apparent reason. Tempers began to flare and everyone started yelling at everyone and waving their arms. We were finally given vouchers for taxi cabs and after waiting for about an hour for one to show up, we had to argue with the driver to take us to a hotel. We loaded our bags into the car and piled in. But this cab was not assigned to us so we had to unload and get out. But since no one else was assigned to that cab and there were no others around, we loaded our bags back into the cab and piled in. The drive to the hotel took almost an hour. I'm not sure why the airline couldn't find a closer hotel but I was too tired to wonder for long. We got to the hotel at about 7:00am and I was assigned to a room with a woman from Delhi. Well, at least they had the courtesy to put the two single women together. It was freezing but we passed out anyway for a good two hours.

We had to get up at about 9:00am to grab a quick breakfast and get back on the busses to go back to the airport. I ate little and ate it quickly so I could go and soak my feet in tepid water to try to warm up. After the hour ride back to the airport, we were left outside the airport to wonder what was going on and to reignite some tempers. At about 11:00am we were finally ushered to another room where they yelled out names and gave us back our passports. They didn't stamp anything. They just wanted to keep our passports to ensure that we wouldn't skip the flight and stay on in Kolkata. Ya. That's pretty much unheard of. Who would want to do that? If you saw Kolkata, you would understand what I mean.

We waited long enough for another yelling match to ensue before we were finally told what time we would be heading for Delhi. We got on the plane sometime after 1:00pm and headed for Delhi. We arrived sometime after 4:00pm, missing my connecting flight to Kathmandu by a good three hours. There was only one daily flight to Kathmandu and I would have to wait another day for the flight. Instead, I insisted that they put me on another airline and get me there a.s.a.p. They put me on Royal Nepal Airlines, a notoriously bad airline. The flight was to leave at 7:30pm giving me a small but possible window to get to Kathmandu and get a cab home before everything shuts down. This is the point in the story where everything could make a turn for the better, but alas...

I ask a number of times about my bags to ensure that they get switched to the other plane and that they end up in Kathmandu. They graciously bring me my bags to ensure that they are mine and as I breathed a sigh of relief at least for my bags, the man carts them off in the wrong direction and the airline staff chase him down to redirect him. Great. Fingers are really really crossed. I called auntie Vicki to tell her that I just arrived in Delhi and the b*stards charge me $15 for the three minute call.

So remember my flight? The one that leaves at 7:30pm? Well, now it leaves at 10:00pm. Like the spoiled westerner I am, I tell them that I really need a food voucher since I was supposed to be in Kathmandu yesterday and I am now very hungry. No problem. Just wait here and they will be right back. Fast forward three hours. Kelly is still sitting there and still hungry. 30 minutes before my flight someone rushes up, asks me if I have gotten anything yet and rushes off when I say 'no'. Someone different runs up and asks if I have gotten anything and rushes off when I again say 'no'. Only one of them comes back, takes me to get food and finally gives me my damn boarding pass. I wolf down a sandwich and go to my boarding gate. 10:00pm comes and goes. Close to 11:00pm we get on the plane and head back to Kathmandu.

I got my visa quickly and my bags a little less quickly but they surprisingly, were all there. I argued with a number of taxi drivers who insisted on ripping me off and finally found one who gave me a decent price. I arrived at the house sometime after midnight and woke up one of the volunteers to let me in. (The front gate was luckily unlocked. Thanks Bill) I rummaged around and had to unpack all my bags to find the key to my room. Longing for a hot water bottle and my bed, I open up the door to find that that damn devil rat has had a party in my room. He has gotten into the food I hung from the ceiling (he must have climbed up somewhere and leapt onto it), he's crapped on the tables, window sills and of course, my pillow. At this point, I don't even care. I brush off the crap and crawl into bed. I woke up this morning with a cold and no drinking water in the house. Argh.

Well, just another chapter in the life of Kelly in Kathmandu. It's not too bad to have a couple bad days out of a couple months. I'm going to go see the kids this afternoon and that should cheer me up. I had been regretting not taking time to travel India and now I'm going to need a big long break before I'll be able to go back there. It's funny how things like that work out. Oh right, so about the title of this segment: I'd definitely take the cockroaches with Biman Air than my flight from Singapore to Kathmandu anyday.

Sloan's in Singapore for Sexmas

2007-01-01T23:23:00.000-08:00

After taking a very acceptable flight from Kathmandu to Singapore via Delhi with Air Sahara, "emotionally yours", I arrived safely into the fold of my cousins and aunt and uncle. (Yes, that is actually the airline's moto. What does it mean? I can only scratch my head and wonder). The past ten days have been many things; indulgent, relaxing and a culture shock. I am very grateful to have spent Christmas with family and to have had the break from third world living. I took a bath the first day I was here and had to take a shower immediately after because the bath water was so dirty.

Instead of eating rice and lentils twice a day every day, here I have had peppered crab, osso bucco, Thai take-out, Vietnamese dumplings, gourmet pizza with truffles and arugula and maybe one or two alcoholic drinks. I've been a little torn between enjoying my decadent indulgence and feeling a tad bit guilty. There is such an incredible difference between Nepal and Singapore. Another reminder of the unequal distribution of the world's wealth.

But what can you do when you live in a shoe? So I'm going to, and have been, enjoying myself. When I get back I will also be enjoying myself, hanging out with the kids, going for walks in the mountains and going for good masala tea.

Here are some pics from New Year's Eve and some other fun times. Don't be deceived; 90% of this three month trip, I don't look this clean or shiny.

Kiddy Dance

2007-01-01T04:55:00.000-08:00

Here are some pics taken about a month ago. We asked a traditional Nepalese band to come to our home and play for the kids. It was a great afternoon and was a lot of fun for both the kids and the didis. The little one in the blue sweater is named Lalit. He's the one that I would like to stuff in my suitcase and bring home.

Kathmandu - the Nice Parts

2006-12-23T07:25:00.000-08:00

Here are a couple of pictures that show some of the nice parts of Kathmandu. Well, outside of Kathmandu. These pictures are taken along the road where we go running in the morning. The first one shows the terraced fields and how people attempt to forge an agricultural livelihood in the mountenous region.
The next photo is an example of one of the very old houses that is a miracle is still standing. There are no enforced building standards here and Nepal is due for another disasterous earthquake. (Their last one was in the 1930s). When the next one does come, most buildings are sure to crumble exept for Child Haven which is built to sustain an 8.5 on the richter scale.
The last picture is of Kathmandu valley at dawn. There is a mix of early morning dew and nostril-clogging pollution that covers the whole of the valley.

Finally some Visuals

2006-12-23T01:57:00.000-08:00

For all you visual people, I'm finally posting some pictures. No worries; I will leave all photographic evidence of delhi-belly episodes and farmer blowing out. I guess I'll start with the basics. Here is my favorite roommate. His name is Shatrabuji-sir but I just call him buwa (grandfather). He is a very interesting man. He is 60 years old, a professor of sanskrit, a seer (he can see people's futures but will not divulge if it is bad news), he is a yoga master (obviously) and is incessantly generous. In this picture, he had come into my room at about 5:00am to do yoga with me but as you can see, all I could do was watch and marvel. He reads and mediates until about midnight, sleeps until 3:30am and then continues to read until about 8:00am when he goes to pray, teach classes, or learn computer skills at the Child Haven school.

Here are some pics of my house. The first picture is of our roof and our dog Cindu. Sure the roof looks great for some patio furniture and a martini but unfortunately it is not kosher to sit on one's roof, and plus, it's a place where Cindu likes to relieve himself and bring his headless chickens that he steals from the chicken farm behind the house.The second one is my front door. Notice the ventilation above the door; great for the summers, not so great when it's 0 degrees.

Billy Ray Cyrus and Playful Pigs

2006-12-19T21:11:00.000-08:00

Just in time for me to really need a break, I fly to Singapore tomorrow to spend Christmas with family. I will be able to do much more updating and posting of pictures there. The connection speed here is slothly slow at best. Just before I go, I thought I'd write a quick little entry about strange and random occurrences and sights that I have seen here in the past seven weeks.

One night, walking home late after stealing away for a clandestine glass of beer (c'mon, 150 kids every single day and you wouldn't want one?), I was exiting the Bouddha stoupa. This is one of the largest Buddhist temples, very close to my house. From about 4am to 8:30pm, there is but one song that plays at all the tourist cd stores. It is the most popular Buddhist chant, about four measures long, repeated over and over with no breaks for roughly 16 hours. Needless to say it was strange when I was walking home at about 8:45pm and that song was not playing. Even more bizarre however, was that it had been replaced with Billy Ray Cyrus' "Don't Break my Heart (My Achey-Breaky Heart)". I had to attempt to summarize that moment in my mind: "Yes. I am in Kathmandu, at a Buddhist temple, with no one to be seen at 8:45 at night, and I'm listening to Achey-Breaky Heart, possibly one of the most ridiculously awful compositions of all time. Weird."

My second most bizarre occurrence, although it could very possibly compete with the former for first place, was a sight I saw one afternoon from my rooftop. I was taking some laundry off the line when I spotted something on the neighbouring rooftop that literally made me blink, rub my eyes, and blink again to assure myself of what I was actually seeing. There was a large rat, probably about 7 inches long, not including the tail, chasing a little puppy around. They were having a grand ol' time. The rat would chase the puppy in circles, the puppy would try to hide behind some bricks and then dart out in the opposite direction to get a head-start on the rat. This episode continued until it sank in that possibly only a handful of people in the world have ever seen this before and I for one, will almost certainly never see this again. Once again I had to summarize: "Yes. I am in Kathmandu, on a rooftop, watching a giant rat chase a puppy on the roof next door. Wow."

Not surprisingly, the following strange sights also include animals. The other day, I was driving through Bakhtapur, an ancient kingdom just outside Kathmandu, after visiting a hospital that has asked me to do some grant writing for them. Being most familiar with the canine species, I really wasn't aware of how playful other animals can be. After remarking about a kid (baby goat) darting around and playing with its mother, I came upon an incredibly self-gratifying sow. An animal of enormous proportions, the giant sow was bucking around rodeo-style and taking breaks to chase its own tail. There was nothing else around, just a refuse-filled river, a dilapidated shed and a sow chasing her tail, enjoying very much, that particular moment she was having with herself.

Well, it doesn't surprise most, being the 'Mother Animalis' that I am, that I have become quite close with a number of animals near my house. Like I mentioned in a previous entry, I have become good friends with the dog across the road. He is more of an ewok/canine cross and jumps in circles when he sees me coming up the road. It is so nice, in an often thankless job, to be appreciated by something. There is also a nice stray dog at the Bouddha stoupa, who strangely doesn't want to rip my face off. Whenever he sees me, he comes and licks my fingers but then starts gnawing at my tasty little sausage fingers. I know I'm probably looking way too far into this and I'm sure he just wants to eat me because he's very hungry (and I'm sure that I am very tasty). In any case, I'm glad to have found two canine friends that I can always count on for a circle dance and a sausage nibbling.

Two friends that I'm not very pleased that I have made live in my room. One is a mouse, the other is a rat. I had been aware that both existed in my house as I had seen both previously and both had left their 'evidence' on my table top. The other morning, when I had dragged myself out of the warmth of my bed at 5am, I opened my suitcase to get a change of clothes. Let's just say it was way too early and way too dark to have a mouse jump right out at me. To top it off, the little buggar had expensive taste. He gained access by chewing through my zipper, which I have had to replace, and nestled down to chewing through the silk pillow cases and bone necklaces that I had bought for gifts.
The rat on the other hand, is more interested in haunting my sleep and my shattering my confidence than destroying my property. Last night I awoke at about 3am because the damn rat was chewing so loudly. What made me cringe was how close the sound was to my head. I sat up and saw his 6" shadow, hanging from the curtain beside my bed. I made a loud noise and he ran down the length of the curtain, over my pillow and into the wall on the other side of the bed. I don't need to explain why it took me a good amount of time to fall back to sleep, albeit an unfitfull slumber.

So the moral of the story: I'm going to Singapore tomorrow. Toilet paper, hot water and laundry machines. Although there won't be any stray dogs licking my fingers, or sows chasing their tails, I'll be sitting on a real toilet smelling like a girl again and not like a hobo's undies and I'll be spending Christmas with family. A very nice treat.

Karma Shmarma

2006-12-13T04:08:00.000-08:00

Well, since being situated directly under Tibet and very close to the Buddhist stronghold in Nepal, I've come across a myriad of monks, wannabe-gurus and flakes. I've been hearing a lot about karma and have met a number of people who refuse to kill mosquitoes or any other living being. They insist that it's about promoting a certain practice of conscious thought toward every action and thus, if it is wrong to kill a human, it is wrong to kill a mosquito. Hogwash, if you ask me. I'm more into survival of the fittest and if that mosquito is going to bite me and give me malaria, damn right I'm going to squash him first. What the hell kind of human would let something bite them or potentially kill them? Ppfff.

Well, who knows...Maybe all those mosquitoes I killed in Bangladesh did create a lot of bad karma. Lord knows what I did wrong to deserve today. Three teachers were away today and I got stuck teaching MATH. ALL DAY. Everyone knows I can't do math. These kids start algebra in grade 4. When's the last time I did algebra??! It was a nightmare. I had all the kids check their own answers because I simply had no idea. And the grade ones repeatedly tested my resolve not to hit children. I grabbed and yanked a few but that was because one child had his hand wrapped around another child's jugular and they were rolling all over the desktops. I'm beginning to think physical punishment isn't really as bad as it seems.

To top it off, I went down to town to get a much needed coffee and internet fix, and the power in the city shut off on the way. No coffee for me. At least I know that I can handle 150 kids, screaming and killing each other and I won't break down. (Oh, and I made friends with a dog today. I actually found one that doesn't want to rip my face off).

Back in the Valley-O

2006-12-11T23:33:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back in Kathmandu and winter is finally here. It rained yesterday for the first time since I arrived at the beginning of November. With unmaintained dirt roads here, to go anywhere is to trudge through bogs and mudholes. It is good to be back with the kids. They have grown on me; even the ones that at the beginning, needed a kick in the arse, have become sweet and attentive. On Saturday, a few volunteers, one didi and I took 25 small children (from about 3-8yrs) up the mountain to a couple monasteries. It was great to get out of the pollution for an afternoon. The monasteries were incredible. I'm really looking forward to developing my film. These children were incredible. The walk lasted 5 hours and they still ran all the way home.

I hope I don't become a careless parent when the time comes. The children here are so tough and play so rough, that I've learned to stop cringing every ten minutes. Sometimes when children fall and cut their heads open, we have to stop them from playing so that we can take them to get stiches. The hike up the mountain took us on one-person wide trails with 300ft drop-offs, and the children of course were pushing and racing each other the whole way. It really makes me see how protective we are of our children back home when I see how good these ones are at surviving.

Just when I was losing my patience with one of the most difficult children, I was told of her story. The manager picked her up in the city at the age of 3 because she was begging. She has marks all over her head where her father would beat her. Her mother, since dead, was a drunkard who would come demanding money or she would threaten to take her daughter out of the home. A number of times, she was kidnapped by her mother and Child Haven had to send out search parties that lasted for days. The last time, they found her with her mother in the mountains, filthy and starving and lying on the floor in a pile of bottles. Really puts things into perspective. That girl is as tough as nails. Still a pain in the ass, but as tough as nails.

Gluttony in Bangladesh

2006-12-11T23:07:00.000-08:00

Alright, I'll be honest. When I thought about going to Bangladesh, I really didn't think that I'd gain 10lbs. It's Bangladesh for god's sake. Isn't it one of the poorest countries in the world? I tell ya, it's that damn Muslim hospitality. It's unparalled to most. On one day, we got invited to five different houses to get fed. And we always say, 'just tea, right'? And they always say 'yes, just tea' and then 7 courses later plus tea, and it's off we go to another feeding. The customs there are much different. At every meal that we were invited to, the women spend most of the day preparing the meal but then none of the hosts/hostesses join us. They would eat in a back room when we were finished. After refusing a fourth serving at one of our first meals, I was told that by refusing food, I was basically saying: "I don't like you as a person and you are a complete culinary failure". I felt like I was in an entire country of Grandmas, constantly making me eat until I wanted to barf. Never in my life had I looked forward to ending the feedings. It was truly remarkable.

I really didn't do any research about Bangladesh before I left, save for a programme I watched on man-eating Tigers in the South. It wasn't until I arrived that I read that the entire country is the size of Wisconsin but with a population of 150 million. Truly mind-boggling. It is the most densely populated country in the world; 3 times more than China and 7 times more than India. The strangest part was seeing millions of people and only a handful of women. Being a Muslim country, women are not meant to be seen or included. It's incredible that a place like that could make Kathmandu seem like paradise.

The plane ride back was hilarious. This time, I really noticed the cockroaches. I was in the first row, so I got to watch them crawl up and down the cabin door, over the food compartments, up the aisle, and five times, we had to flick them off our trays while we were eating. The best part was when we were landing, the cabin door broke off and everyone stood up to get a good look of us landing from a pilot's point of view. No seatbelts necessary in a plane like that. All in all in Bangladesh, I ate my face off, the weather was hot and the spider that was the size of my hand that I found on my toilet, wasn't poisonous.

(For everyone disappointed with the lack of pictures, I will post a bunch in Singapore. I go there next week. It takes 30 mins to post one picture here.)

Birthday in Bangladesh

2006-12-11T23:02:00.000-08:00

If anyone was feeling depressed that poor ol' Kelly was spending her 23rd birthday in a third world country with no friends, rest at ease. My birthday was just dandy. It was another travel companion's birthday the day before (although poor him, he was turning 42) so he spilled the beans about my birthday so that we could suffer together. Bonnie took us out to a restaurant for lunch to celebrate both our special days. I had never been to such a fancy restuarant and I'm sure I never will again. Our table had our own staff of about 6 people who were there to wait on only us. The food was incredible and it had all the extra little luxuries that seemed incredibly extravagant in a place like Bangladesh: hot towels, finger bowls, men to push in our chairs...
To top it all off, the staff brought us cake with a candle in it, and were mortified that we made the first cut in the cake because we were not supposed to be doing any of the work. We got ice cream and toothpicks and rolled ourselves out of the restuarant. Oh gosh. And how could I forget?? The bathroom there had a toilet, toilet paper and soap!! Could things have gotten any more luxurious? (Sure, I know, my standards have gone way down). I know I did something else that day, but I've since forgotten. As per usual, my food memories eclipse everything else.

Off to Bangladesh

2006-12-01T00:49:00.000-08:00

My flight was scheduled to leave 2.5 hours later than what was printed on my ticket. Standard for Asia. I sat down in the airport and watched my fellow passengers line up to check-in. Yep, just as I thought: I'll be the only female on the plane. The airports here are bizarre. One has to go through security about 12 times but everytime is rather pointless. The metal detector goes off continually, but everyone is ushered through regardless. I had not one, but two pairs of scissors in my handbag that were not confiscated. I did however, have a bouquet of flowers with me from the children that I was told I was not allowed to take on board. But if I put them away in my purse, it was ok.

The plane was a relic from about 1970. I don't think it had been cleaned since then either. I sat down and promptly picked up my book and then began to doze off. Anything to keep to myself in a sea full of men. Within a few minutes, my hopes were dashed as I awoke from a hard elbow jab in the ribs. The man sitting next to me asked why I was sleeping and proceeded to show me the fleeting Himalayas and to talk for the full two hours. His English was so broken and he was annoyed everytime I asked him to repeat himself. This is what I got the whole damn trip: "Why go to Bangladesh?...I hate...they come...no mountains...father's land...compost...heart makes him vomit...flood...6 months...friend in Canada...rich king...can I have your email?" Of course. I had been waiting for that.

Our meal was not surprising. We were served (it was actually thrown on our laps with no smile), a triangle of stale white bread with no crust with a slab of processed cheese & a sprite. When I disembarked, a French man who I had met before looked slightly ill and asked me if I had noticed the coocarachas. I was having a hard time feeling lucky that I hadn't noticed that the plane was crawling with cockroaches (in the windows, on the seats) because I was stuck listening to this guy.

The airport was a typical mess. No one knew where anyone should go and the customary practice of crowding around a desk, all shoving one's papers towards the man hoping he'll process yours before the other 200 people doing the same, was in full motion. I seemed to have drawn on my Irish luck and found someone who pointed me in the opposite direction of the mob. Biman Airlines, as well as any decent bottom-line service, had neglected to give us immigration cards. It took me awhile to find where to get one as people were incredulous that a: there was a white person in Bangladesh and b: I was an unaccompanied female. I eventually met up with my group and there were no other problems to report. We took a plane to Chittagong, a city in the South of Bangladesh where our orphanage is located. Like everywhere we go, we attracted a massive crowd and required a number of guards to perform crowd control so that we could load 18 suitcases and 8 people into 2 vans. It is a blessing that I have such a good sense of humour.

Back to Normal & Ready to Go

2006-11-26T17:53:00.000-08:00

Well luckily, my taste of Delhi Belly was short lived. Although I had some minor cramping and felt quite weak the next day, the worst of it was over. Thank God. The staff here told me that most volunteers experience about 1-2 weeks of it. Eeek.
On Saturday, I think I must have made a good impression with one of the deities after going to the Hindu temple with the girls. The computer teacher commented on how thin my face was looking and Ganesh must have been listening. For tiffin, we had 'God food'; raw sugar water and sugar crystals from a temple. (great, just what the kids need). We took the water in our hands, took a sip and then poured the rest over our heads. Then, we ate the sugar crystals. Then lo and behold...not only did we get rotis (flatbreads), which I love, but we got DEEPFRIED rotis. Thank you whatever god who decided that I needed 3 deepfried rotis at that very moment. And don't you worry, family. I also decided to take matters into my own hands and I bought three little bags of chips and ate them all in a row.

Lastnight, I took Katherine (a retired nurse from Vancouver who is just finishing her volunteering here) and her husband Ian, out for dinner for my birthday. I wanted to go out and it wouldn't be quite that enjoyable to go alone. I broke most rules lastnight by having a glass of beer and chicken at dinner. Whatever. It's by birthday. (well, almost) It was a nice night. Today I am going to go to Bahktapur with Ian and admire the ancient architecture. Then I'll come back to pack for my trip to Bangladesh tomorrow.

Well, that's all from me for now. I'll put up more pics soon.

Kelly No Like Delhi Belly

2006-11-24T23:08:00.000-08:00

So yesterday was my first bout of Delhi Belly. However funny it sounds, it is awful. The stomach pain is excruciating and to top it off, I was sick out of both ends. Just to put it in perspective, it takes all my energy to bring myself to 'use' a toilet here for it's intended purpose. Forget having to shuffle around and stick your face in it after a million people (including yourself) have just filled it with curried excrement. Well, I know my great aunt and uncle are reading this, so I'll end the graphic nature of this description. But just remember the next time you laugh at Delhi Belly, it's not funny. Not at all. Especially when you have to drag yourself from the toilet to go back to the orphanage to shovel down more burning curry.

Yesterday marked a turning point in my relationship with our pet dog. First of all, she is probably the only dog in Kathmandu that gets fed, has shelter and doesn't get beaten. Despite her incredible good fortune, she has no appreciation or respect. When I got back from one of my trips to the toilet yesterday, she was curled up in my bed. Did I mention that she is crawling with fleas and there is no way to wash my comforter? To top it off, she refused to get off. I had to drag her off. I really can't even stand to look at her anymore. I was considering buying her meat because I don't think she's too thrilled either about her diet of rice and lentils, but forget it. She does not deserve it. She'll have to do something monumental to make it up to me.

This morning I woke up and went on a walk with some of the older girls to a Hindu temple in the mountains. It was very nice. They touch every statue (and there are many) and they go to the river and pour water on some of the deities and put tiksas on their foreheads. (the little read dot) One of the only things that makes it worth it to get up so early (5am) is how beautiful it is here in the morning. And plus, no one sleeps past 6am here so there's no point trying to sleep in.

I think I will take Monday off and go to Bhaktapur; a region just outside of the city. It is very ancient and has incredible architecture and markets. I am going to have to navigate the bus system here though which will undoubtedly prove to be quite the experience. Then Tuesday, I'm off to Bangladesh! I'm quite excited. It's getting increasingly cold here at night, and I'm looking forward to some stinking hot weather. My birthday in a Muslim country will probably be more subdued than normal, but how many people get to spend their birthdays in Bangladesh? To treat myself on my birthday, I'm thinking of buying a hot shower. Well, back to work I go.

It Begins with Poop...

2006-11-23T02:13:00.000-08:00

Lastnight I had some icky dreams that made for a pretty crappy sleep. Like most mornings, I struggled to justify why I should get up in the cold and dark to go jogging up the Himalayas. After pulling myself together and making it up the hill, I went for my hot glass of soy milk that was supposed to make everything better. But no, those hungry little orphans drank it all up before poor ol' me could get any. After eating my breakfast of rice and lentils, I was washing my dish and low and behold, bird shit fell from the sky and landed in the palm of my hand.
I took a deep breath and tried to remember that someone told me that it was good luck to get shit on by a bird. WHY? I couldn't say.

Surprisingly enough, the day turned out well. I had been feeling out of place since all the other volunteers have left and there's only me and 150 children and staff that I can't communicate with. I wasn't sure if I was helping enough and where my help was needed the most. I talked to one of the nice teachers who explained everything to me and made me feel much more clear on what my responsibilities where. I went home, had a cup of tea, made photocopies of some pictures and went to my grade 1 class to let let them draw. It turned out alright.

Our tiffin (lunch snack) was really good. It was some sticky, sweet porridge stuff and a banana. Much better than rice and lentils (especially when that's what you get for breakfast & dinner). After going for seconds, I sat with the didis and helped them prepare green beans. There's alot to be said about a group of women sitting in the sun, talking and preparing food. I didn't understand anything that was being said, but I could laugh and smile with them in some sort of gesture of understanding.

When I got home, buwa (Shatrabuji-sir, the grandfather that I live with) gave me a cup full of roasted soy beans. He loves giving gifts. He's always giving me oranges or peanuts. Then I walked downtown and took a blouse that is too big to get altered . I was prepared to pay 100 rupees, the equivalent of about $1.50. The women charged me 10 rupees; about 15 cents. Then I walked to the internet cafe where I am now. I am going to get a good coffee and some long johns. Then off to computer class. I guess birdshit isn't so bad afterall.

Not Backwards...Just Different?

2006-11-23T01:59:00.000-08:00

"In several (Western) countries legislation has been proposed to punish people for the cruel mistreatment of animals. How far should our concern for animals extend? Do they have souls, and as such, should be shielded from as much pain as a fellow person? Or is this all fantastical nonsense?" -This Week's Question, the Himalayan Times.

Wow. Sometimes it's difficult to remind myself that it is a different culture and not backwards or way behind the times. With so much Buddhist influence here, one would think that there would be more compassion for living things. Even being sacred doesn't do much for the cows here. They are made to dodge traffic on busy streets and eat garbage. At least you can't kick them and throw things at them like you can with dogs. Something that is not advertised in the tourist info on Nepal is how the government deals with the canine 'problem'. When there gets to be too many dogs around, the government goes around and drops meat infused with arsenic. In the morning when all of the dogs are dead or in their last hours, gasping for breath, they are picked up and dropped into a mass grave. Lovely. Well, I guess when one is stuggling to survive himself, they often lack compassion for others and other creatures who are in the same boat.

Peace at Last

2006-11-22T04:09:00.000-08:00

Today was a national holiday. After years of conflict and unrest, the government of Nepal and the Maoists signed a peace agreement lastnight. This morning in homework class, someone burst in and started yelling something, which could have been, 'it's raining rabbits!' for all I knew. All the kids went insane and ran out of the class screaming and singing. The teachers later explained about the peace agreement and that no one in Nepal had to go to school or work. Everyone was very relieved and peaceful today. Usually by 10 am, after I've already put in 5 hours, I'm ready to head out of there for a few hours to recharge. Everyone was so happy and relaxed today that it was quite a nice atmosphere and I hung around until about 5pm. This is definitely a great day for Nepal. Many of our children are orphans because of the conflict so this means alot to many people in our home.

And to finish off with some other great news, I got checked today and I don't have lice!! Although everyone else in Nepal does, I've seemed to escape it for the last 3 weeks. I'm going to hold strong for as long as possible. Wish me luck.

Nepali Etiquette...

2006-11-18T21:12:00.000-08:00

Well, there were two vows I made in my first week here; that I wouldn't resort to farmer blowing and that I wouldn't hit any children. I am into my third week here and I've broken 1.5 of the above. I've had a cold here for a full week and there is rarely toilet paper or tissues with which to blow one's nose, so I've had to resort to my most hated method of cleaning one's nasal passage. In my defense, I've now made that particular vow more specific, stating that I will not farmer blow in public, to which I have still been able to abide by. The .5 part was because I threatened to hit a child, but only because he definitely deserved it. I was taking a group of children out to visit another orphanage when this little street hellian came running out of nowhere to slap as many of my kids as he could in one go. I yelled at him but he snuck around a corner and took another go at terrorizing my group, so I ran after him and showed him the back of my hand, perfectly poised to incite fear in the hearts of all demon-Nepali street kids.

Speaking of kids, this has been another one of my mistakes. As 150 children pointed out to me, they are 'children', not 'kids'. Kids are goats and goats are for eating. Point taken.

Another vow I have made although I've resigned myself that I will break is that I won't harm any dogs. Can you believe it? Me harming dogs? Who have I become? The street dogs here are so agressive and hungry that you have to walk down the road with rocks in your hand to pitch at them. I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would hurl a rock at the loving but misguided soul of a canine. I know that deep down they just want to be my friend, but their rabid growling needs to be staved off.

The etiquette here is tricky at times to figure out. For example, I've already mentioned that farmer blowing and incredibly obnoxious clearing of the throat, followed by magnificent hack-a-loogies by both men and women are very common and accepted practice. So is pooping on the side of the road if you need to. On the other hand, I have made some serious faux pas. Last week I sat a child on a pillow while I dressed a wound on his foot. That act, apparently, condemned that child to a life of poverty. (ah...newsflash; he's a Nepali orphan) Sitting him on a pillow ain't going to make him any poorer. I also offended many when I used the toilet that is off the dining hall during breakfast time. Forget the fact that everyone is farmer blowing, wiping themselves with their hands and then eating with their hands and spitting whatever food they don't want on the floor, I used the toilet at the wrong hour.

Lessons learned...

To the Beat of a Different Drum

2006-11-15T03:01:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd devote an entire entry just to briefly talk about some examples of Nepali infrastructure. Right...so for starters, the process of disposing of garbage is as follows: One either A: burns it anywhere, B: one can drop it anywhere for someone else to burn or a dog or cow or goat to eat it, or none of the above, or C: if you are responsible like us Canadian volunteers, you can walk down the road and pitch it down a ravine. Luckily, Nepalis are too poor to use needle drugs, so at least there is no chance of me getting AIDS via foot transmission.
This morning I went to get my Bangladesh visa. After going past the guard with the semi-automatic rifle, I went in and told them when I was going (without showing them any paperwork). They took my passport & told me to come back at 4:30 because it takes all day to stamp a book. When I returned, the issuer allowed me to retrieve my own passport from a box full of various ones. I could have chosen any one I pleased.

This is how I caught a cab today. A van with no doors, came whizzing by with a kid hanging on the outside of the vehicle shouting out its destination. Without even stopping, I had to hurl myself inside the van & pay 16 rupees; the equivalent of about 20 cents. Wowzers.

A Day in the Life at Child Haven

2006-11-10T22:46:00.000-08:00

I've gotten into quite a routine here as I become more integrated at the home. Scott, an English Buddhist dude who has volunteered here since September has been good at showing me the ropes. Katherine, a nice retired nurse from Vancouver has been wonderfully helpful and generous in making me tea and introducing me to the didis (women caregivers). I have become Kelly-didi ('big sister Kelly') which is how you introduce any woman in that position. I hear it so much from 200 little voice from dawn until dusk that when I leave the orphanage, I swear the birds are calling: 'didi, didi' all night long.

My days are full and exhausting. I wake up at 5am and am at the home by 5:30 waking the children up to go running. Scott had been taking the boys but the girls were more reluctant as the gender roles are quite different here and it was rather frowned upon for them to exercise together. Screw it though. I don't see it as bringing my Western view here; the orphanage claims to abide by a Ghandian philosophy which includes equality of the sexes, so I feel that I am in the right. By 5:45am we are running up the mountain. My god, I've created a monster. I hate running and now more and more girls are becoming more gung-ho and now I have to keep it up. Damn those Himalayas are a bitch. After about a 6km run, we are back at the home for our hot soy milk. We then help the children settle down to their breakfast of rice, lentils and curry. (I've started to get used to spicy food at 6am) Then I'm off to homework class where I help the grade fours with their English. Their education kind of stinks; they are taught to memorize and copy but not really understand anything they're reading. And all their English books are written by Nepalis who have very poor English.

At about 9am is my favorite time; I get to go help the toddlers get dressed in their uniforms for school. After having a handful of sugar in every cup of soy milk, they are absolutely wired. They are very small here too and very cute. It is 10 minutes of absolute mayhem where we try to get them dressed while they braid my hair, fight each other and run around like maniacs.

Then we take them out to the courtyard where they line up and perform militaristic exercises as one of the didis shouts out orders. They finish their exercise, much to my bemusement, by singing "This Land is Our Land", with some variations in the lyrics. Then I go back to the house for 10am for a cup of tea after already putting in 5 hours. I usually have a few hour break although I am supposed to teach some extra classes which I usually skip. The children are rather uncontrollable, so an extra 3 hours of unpaid, meltdown-inducing activity is not something I really strive for. At 4:30 they are back to their homework classes for some more robotic reading of bastardized English.

Dinner comes around 7:00 of you guessed it; rice, curry & lentils!! It's often hard to believe that 13hrs goes by from the last meal. Honestly though, I have often been skipping down to a nice restaurant for lunch of gourmet meals and lattes at a hefty price of $3.

When dinner has finished and I have monitored 3 computer classes, where instead of practicing typing, they play motorcycle games, I head back to the house. Like the party animal I am, I crawl into bed at 8:30 in preparation for another day.

First Impressions of Kathmandu

2006-11-10T22:26:00.000-08:00

Well the cab ride to Child Haven, in Aaru Bari was something else. People here are insane. The country is tiny and there are 26 million people and I swear 20 million of them are all out on the street or in cars. I ended up closing my eyes for the remainder of the drive because after the 8th near-fender bender, I had had enough for the night. The streets aren't really streets here; there is rarely pavement, they are very rarely flat, there are no lanes and no rules. You can drive on whatever side you want, pass on either side whenever you want, turn anywhere and not stop for any human or sacred cow that might be in your way. It is quite the experience. I am getting more and more used to it now. I only close my eyes once per cab ride. No one ever seems to get hit and the thousands of stray dogs are just as savvy at getting out of the way in time.

Once we reached Child Haven, it was about 8pm and the children were apparently very excited to meet me, so we went to the orphanage instead of settling in at home. After 36 hours of traveling, being surrounded by almost 200 kids was overwhelming to say the least. The children are interesting creatures. They are beautiful and affectionate but cunning and sneaky. I have now learned that when I take off my sandals, (as I have to, to enter certain rooms, such as the kitchen, bathroom & dining hall) I have to take my shoes with me because they have been stolen twice and it has been said that some children will take them and sell them on the black market.

There are a number of things that have surprised me here. Some things are worse and some things are better than I expected. For worse, it is dirtier, smellier, louder and more crowded than I could have imagined. On the other hand, I live in a clean house, with my own room, seconds from Child Haven. Although there are millions of people surrounding me at any given moment, unlike other countries I have experience in, such a Mexico & Jamaica, no one touches me or gropes or grabs. It is quite refreshing not to be nervous to walk down the street. Another lucky thing is that we have a dog at the house named Cindu. He is very affectionate; probably because he is the only dog in a dog population of 30 million who is treated decently. He has fleas, but so does every other living thing here. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before I start scratching.
(Picture: the Stupa at Bouddha, one of the holiest buddhist temples in the world, a 15 minute walk from my house)

Oh Man, Oman!

2006-11-09T23:51:00.000-08:00

I sat beside Adrien, a nice non-typical American with a long, surfer-blond pony-tail on the way to Oman. He was very nice and gave me lots of good advice about Kathmandu. He runs a programme that helps exchange students study in Nepal. I was glad to hear that Kathmandu was not going to be as strict as I thought. He was nice enough to let me sleep and not talk my ear off either. Oh yes, I forgot; Gulf Air. A very nice airline. Much better than AirCanada. The food was great, and everyone got a little sachet with an eye cover, socks and a toothbrush. (It's been eons since AirCanada gave out any freebies.) The flight was moreorless uneventful until the landing in Oman. Not that there was anything eventful, but definitely remarkable. What a strange/interesting place. I swear StarWars filmed a lot of scenes there. It's so weird to have so much desert, so little vegetation, so much beautiful shoreline and no one swimming, let alone in a swim suit. I'd really love to go back there someday. It was so dry and hot and clean and barren. On my way back, I'll buy some frankincense and dates.

In the waiting room, Adrien was listening to some Nepali men discuss for about 15mins about whether a woman (obviously western) who had short hair was a man or woman. I suppose the C-cup or hips, or female voice was no indication. I think when women have short hair, or men have long hair, or women wear pants and a t-shirt, it totally throws them off and they've got no clue about gender. So strange. Also because after this 15min discussion, they settled on the conclusion that she was a man.

Unfortunately, we only had an hour in Oman and we were off to Kathmandu. It wasn't as long as the two 7-hour flights I took in the preceding day, but long enough after traveling for that long. There were about 5 women on the flight since it was filled with Nepali workers who apparently find work in Oman. After we landed, some stupid Chinese plane was in our spot and after flying for a day in a half, we had to sit on the stupid, stupid plane for over an hour on the tarmac (steps away from the airport) so the stupid Chinese plane could move. It was hot as hell, stunk like only Indian men can and there was the most annoying girl talking so loudly and incessantly just to be sure that everyone could listen to her for the full hour and a half. I was so relieved to finally get off the plane. Adrien was helpful in showing me where to go for the visas, and the baggage and the exits.

Kanya-miss, the asst. manager of Child Haven met me there and we tried about 20 different taxis, who after spotting me, the westerner, insisted on ripping us off. We finally found one who would take us for less than double the price, except that he had a compact car. Suitcases were thrown on the roof (not, tied of course) and off we went. The first drive through Kathmandu was such an experience that it will have to be left for another posting.

London for a Day

2006-11-09T23:31:00.000-08:00

On the plane ride to Heathrow, I sat beside a funny, little Jewish guy that was constantly apologizing. I slept for maybe an hour. Air Canada blows compared to other airlines. For that price, I should be getting 4-star food and back massages. Anywho, I'm not complaining. I arrived in London at about 7am their time and was out of the airport by 9am. I somehow figured out the tube and headed downtown. I got to Trafalgar Square and sat and had a granola bar...(my only food for a day and a half). I walked around, found my way through throngs of Japanese tourists to Buckingham Palace. Pretty impressive, I suppose but not my cup of tea, as they might say. I didn't even stick around for another half hour to see the changing of the guards. I walked through St. James' Park, which was quite lovely. The Canadian geese there are taking over and shitting on everything. The cranes were great though and so was this old guy who trained a little squirrel to eat nuts off his head. I thought that since those red telephone booths are so charming, I had to call Adam on one of them. 15mins later and 25 pounds poorer, I hung up and decided not to do all of London in one day and so I headed back.
In the airport, an old guy came up and asked me something which I thought was said in something unrecognizable. After I heard him ask some other people, I realized he was speaking Spanish, but I difficult one to decipher. I went back and said I could help him. Mario turned out to be from Chile and he needed help reading his ticket and finding his way around. (Mum...the man was 65-70 years old....harmless). He offered to buy me a drink and dinner at a restaurant in the airport. He bought me a nice big tasty beer, which I promptly knocked off the table, spilling it all over a bunch of people. After ordering another one, he told me that our meeting was not an accident and 'la muerte es el suerte'. If anyone figures it out, let me know. I'm working on it.
After dinner, he had a terrible allergic reaction and his mouth swelled up like a cartoon. I brought him to his gate and told the flight attendants that he was having a reaction and that he didn't speak any English. Don't worry, I made sure his throat wasn't swelling at all. And that was all from Mario.
I got on my plane to Oman and was glad that I was seated beside a nice young American man (yah, weird, eh?) who had lived in Nepal for a number of years. Off to Oman.

Off to Nepal

2006-11-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

Well, I leave for my trip today. I'll have to go to London first, for a 13hr layover. Eeek. It's alright though; I might take the tube to Picadilly or something. Then I'm off to Oman, then to Kathmandu. I arrive there on Saturday afternoon (the 4th). I'll have something good to report once I get there!