Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Pokhara, 21st December 2016

Dear readers,

I am determined to get my writing back on track even though I will be attempting to cram four weeks of action packed life into one single post. I will be Kathmandu bound again this weekend having splashed out and hired a private jeep with Maggie and Kayla in the hope that its suspension will bring us much quicker and much more comfortably to the hot showers awaiting us in Kathmandu. With the added bonus of an awaiting boyfriend at my hotel on the 24th of December, all things going to plan, and after not having seen each other for almost 3 months, I am determined not to get stuck on the road. It will be an interesting first Christmas and New Year away from my family but James and I are looking forward to experiencing a very familiar holiday in an a very foreign land.

With only 4 days left until Christmas, my time in Pokhara is slowly coming to an end. It will be hard to leave this town which compares in many ways to Kathmandu but differs from its loud and chaotic counterpart in many more. I have been in Pokhara for the past 4 weeks, living in a homestay which is basically someone's home that they have chosen to turn into a hostel. We are two to a room and enjoy the luxury of an ensuite bathroom and 4 rooms to a floor, 3 floors to the building and the family lives on the fourth floor and cooks breakfast and dinner (Dal Bhat every night) for us. The homestay is located in the Lakeside area of Pokhara I have been sharing a home with another 16/20ish volunteers. To say that it has been interesting would be an understatement, as I have met so many new faces and experienced so much in such a short time. Time really does fly...

Pokhara is a rather large city which lies about an 8 hour bus ride (you have to calculate for the potholes and near death experiences on the way down) west of Kathmandu which opens onto the beautiful lake Fewa. The Lakeside area of Pokhara that I have called home for a while is in fact the tourist district of the city, providing its visitors with a protected bubble of zen among the chaos, stunning views from the cafes/bars located along the lake's shores, a beautiful backdrop of the Annapurna range which frequently peaks over the hilltops that surround the lake, and most importantly, good humus. The hippy vibe that Lakside pulsates is easily addictive and has opened my mind way further than I ever expected it to, encouraging me to re-think my priorities, contemplate my future and embrace my surroundings. But enough of the sap for now.

Whilst on project, I have worked as a teaching assistant at a school in the small village of Pame which can be found about a 30 minute bumpy drive around the lake from Lakeside. Needless to say teaching in Nepal has been like nothing I could have ever expected. Our arrival was a little unusual due to having just finishes our trek we missed the regular start day Saturday, arriving instead on a Tuesday. We were greeted rather hap-haphazardly and were given some rather vague instructions of what our programs and time in Pokhara would be like so went to bed feeling rather out of place and confused. The following day we were greeted with the chaos of Pame. The school caters for all ages from nursery all the way up until year 13, with the elder students having taken up residency on the school's third floor as part of the 'boarding' program. Every morning all the kids barge through the school's gates and line up for school assembly where either the head student or the headmaster will lead them in a morning prayer and the national anthem. It is quite a powerful sight to see all ages from 1-18 close their eyes and sing the national anthem in unison. And then the chaos begins. Our presence at the school is primarily supportive, and so our role is to take the weakest students out of their class each period and do the day's lesson on a 1-to-1 basis in an effort to improve their english and fix their mistakes. We mostly work with kids aged 5-12 who always seem eager to be chosen for our lessons. When the teachers don't show up for school (a rather regular occurrence here) we are encouraged to take over some of the classes which can only be described as a daunting and terrifying experience. I still have PTSD from teaching the year 1s two weeks ago who spent most of the lesson trying to write on the board, do handstands or teach the lesson from the front of the class with me. I swear the parents of most of these kids pump them with sugar in the morning and then release them into the school. Yet despite the chaos, not knowing what we are really meant to be teaching the kids, not rally being able to communicate with them and having to grab the bull by its horns (not a very dissimilar experience I am sure) I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Pame and will miss some of the eagerly smiling faces that great 'Lala' at the gate every morning.

We spend 9-3 on project, granting us the rest of the afternoon to do as we please! The first couple of weeks were spent either arguing with my bank, sorting out weekend activities or drinking a much needed cold alcoholic beverage by the lake but once I got into the rhythm I have found/made time to really enjoy my surroundings. I was determined to use my weekends to their fullest!

Having spent only a 4 days in Pokhara following our trek/rafting we were informed that school would be closed the Thursday and Monday as the entire school were going on a trip (Orchestrating that must have been like a scene from hell) so we used the opportunity to gather the troops and sign ourselves up for a 4 day trek to Poonhill (stop giggling, we're all adults here) which is one of the higher points along the Annapurna range and is meant to be one of the more beautiful treks one can do in the region with only a few days available. So the adventure girls (as we are referred to at the homestay) along with Alex, Sam, Miranda, our guide Chris and our assistant guide Harry set off on Friday morning along the Annapurna shake (my new name for the Annapurna roads) to tackle a new 46km trek along the mountain range which went a little like the following:

Day 1: Endless ascent up hug brick stairs. Like seriously I never thought we would reach the top. Cloudy day so not many views unless you stopped to look behind you which often caused a bottle neck or back cramps. W spent the evening in a guesthouse in Ulleri which boasted a fantastic view of the valley we had just climbed from and a first glimpse of the snow-covered Annapurna range.

Day 2: Headed out to be confronted with more stairs but soon after enjoyed a sun drenched tea-stop at what could have easily been a tea house along the Swiss alps. The terrain then changed as we ascended through rain forest like surroundings, doing our best to keep the horrible lady leading a donkey train carrying live but badly mangled chickens far behind us. A short day trekking brought us to the foot of Poonhill where we left our bags at the hotel and after a few minutes of begging, our guides agreed to take us up the mountain in the afternoon rather than pre-dawn the following day as was scheduled. We ascended above 3000 meters (by now we were acclimatized so where the others gasped for breath we skipped past them) where we ascended, yes you guessed it, more stairs, to find one of the most beautiful views I have seen in Nepal. The full Annapurna mountain range basking in the afternoon rays in all its glory. After some time to ourselves on the top, we decided to return to the hotel's rooftop restaurant and watch the sunset stroke the hilltops over a beer.

Day 3: Our longest day starting with another, albeit stair-less ascent which left us all gasping for air. We then traced across the top of the mountain and descended into a winding path through the rain forest before descending into Gandruk where we stayed at the cutest lodge with the most spectacular view of the same mountain range as the previous day. Beautiful. Once there, we met some Tibetan refugees who had traveled across the mountain range for 2 months to sell their wares in order to then return with enough funds to support their families. Needless to say Maggie and I bought something from each one of them whilst the others seemed more eager to spend their money on beer...

Day 4: We gifted ourselves a 30 minute lie in before bouncing our way down the rest of the mountain back to Nayan where our driver was waiting for us. We passed through villages and padi fields which were all doused in the morning's sunny glow and for the first time on the trek I felt like I was witnessing the Nepal that tourists often don't get to see. Life went on as usual for the locals and I was privileged enough to get to see it in action.

It was fascinating to see how the group's dynamics changed with the addition of three new individuals to our wolf pack. Where the four of us were accustomed to adjusting our pace to mach each other's strengths and weaknesses, the other three seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the group was divided and didn't show any interest in waiting for the others to catch up. Simple trekking courtesies such as staying behind our guide, allowing ascenders priority on the trails and making way for oncoming cattle didn't seem to register with them despite the amount of times they were reminded. Certain members of our foursome found it hard to adjust to the new presences and either turned very negative or very... uncooperative. As a person who feeds off of other people's energies it proved for a very socially challenging trip and so I decided to turn inwards and make the most of the fantastic views and impressive journey either on my own or with Elysia. It was impressive to note, however, how fast our muscles got used to a day of trekking again, especially as we did not have porters this time and were carrying our own 8ish kilo packs up the steepest of mountains. In retrospect it was also probably a little bit stupid undertaking such a trek no more than 5 days after our descent from the Everest trail as our bodies had not yet had a chance to recover and our bodies were still susceptible to the symptoms of altitude sickness. All in all I would call ourselves lucky and tremendously stubborn. But it was stunning and definitely worth the agonizing ascent.

We have occupied the rest of our weekends with a variety of activities (as fcebook might have already told you) including a stunning horse riding adventure through the untrodden (by tourists) villages of the Fewa valley. We witnessed the very demanding procedure of rice-thrashing first hand where the whole village gets involved either in the manual labour, or by cooking and providing lunch and entertainment for the men and women at work. We passed through paddy fields and crossed rivers (my horse decided it didn't like the water so threw me off - quite rude really) and had the best masala tea I've had to date at an elderly couple's home in the middle of nowhere. Hihgly recommended especially for people like me who have no prior knowledge of horseback riding. Maybe a bit boring for those used to galloping for hours.

We travelled to the top of the Sarangkot hill on two occasions, once to witness the sky change color as the sun rose steadily over the valley below and reflected off the dark and still lake below. We watched the warm colors of the sun bleed into each other and gradually kiss the Himalays with the softest hints of pink before illuminating them in grandiose tones of yellow and orange as though the opening scene to a theatrical play.

On the second occasion we threw ourselves off the hill. Some call it paragliding, I choose to call it a leap of faith. By far one the most exciting things I have ever done, it turned out being much less daunting than I thought, especially after having spent an hour watching people succeed and botch landings whilst we waited for better thermal currents. The pilots (as they are called) were all young and energetic and reminded us all of the cool boys of school with their reflective sunglasses and jeans. We handed two passes into the authorities on the way up: A flying permit and ur boarding pass (I swear I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried) and the next thing I knew, I was being strapped in and given the following instructions;

'When I lift the parachute it will pull you back, so you must stay strong on your feet. When I say walk, you walk and then when I say run, you run as fast as you can. Do not stop running until we are in the air and do not sit down'. The next thing I knew, the parachute was up and I was running as fast as I could, looking like a gremlin as I did so due to the straps of the parachute already pulling my thighs upwards. I am a graceful goose. If you ever happen to paraglide in Pokhara and your pilot asks if you want to do some, and I quote, 'crazy acrobatics' say yes. Apart from the thrill of flying, I also experienced the thrill of free-falling, spinning, tumbling and screaming my lungs out whilst flying on some some dude's lap. The worst part: I would do it all over again.

There have been some definite highlights and lowlights of my stay here, as is the case with any stay really. The lowlights have included some rather refreshingly un-warm showers, the very thoughtful pre-dawn seranading from the local domestic and wildlife including the house's bear/dog Carly, the complete dis-coordination at the school, and the 'I guess we'll find out soon enough' aspect of living in Nepal as a foreigner. One of the biggest highlights in Pokhara has been the half hour commute to school along the rather un-even, hazardous road that traces the lip of lake Fewa.  There is something about the way the light gently touches the fields and the lake in the morning, about watching the water buffalo slowly graze along the rice fields, about the way the school children all wave at our bus as we hobble past, about watching the villages slowly come to life in the morning and the people washing their hair and clothes in the communal water fountains, about dodging tractors, motorbikes, cows and dogs on the road to school and the two eager faces and wagging tails of Toby and Toothie that greet us as we open the door to our bus when we arrive at the school. 30 minutes on the bus and I am transported to a more beautiful and simpler time.

There is definitely something to the idea of waking with the sun and going to bed with the sun as they do here. I feel more energized, more at one with my surroundings and more able to relate to those around me. Despite the striking differences we have to the Nepalese, we are also not very different from them. We share the same ideas and morals as they do, albeit if they believe them more fully and more extremely. Part of being able to live organically in Nepal is accepting their beliefs and customs, and despite disagreeing with aspects such as the segregated cast systems which the locals seem to be born into, the dowries, the underage marriages, the fact that women and men are not allowed to socialize among other things, one cannot hope to make a sustainable difference without understanding first and acting second. To ear respect, one must first show respect, and when you eventually earn respect, only then will people begin to listen to what you have to say.




No comments:

Post a Comment