Kathmandu

October 13, 2010

Kathmandu means 'Wood City.' Intricate carved timber lines the doors, eaves, and windows of both humble residences and beautiful temples and palaces. Some of the woodwork retains its natural brown and grey hues, but others have been painted black, red, and jewel-bright blues. I love this city. Everywhere I look, there's more color and another lovely detail. It has personality; it's photogenic.

Before we got here, I had set very, very low expectations. Unlike most of the other cities that we've visited, I have read and heard about Kathmandu. In a couple of mountaineering books, the authors had written of Kathmandu with distaste. For them, it was a polluted cacophony of noises and smells. The people were conniving, and the streets were filthy. Still others have mentioned Kathmandu's modern edge and voiced a discontent with the not-quite-Asian, not-quite-Indian or Western city.

Joshua and I aren't big fans of cities as a rule, so after a few bad reviews, we fully expected a neutral response. Instead, we're in love. People wear face masks to cut down on the pollution, but when you compare the air quality to other highly populated and polluted places like Lima, Varanasi, Quito, Istanbul, or even Alicante, it's really not that bad. There are cars and motorcycles, and some of the busier roads are very dusty and crowded, but the air hear is cooler, fresher. As far as the noises are concerned, this place can't hold a candle to India, and the streets are comparitively pristine. For me, the draw is its vitality: it's thriving, and although there are beggars, it seems like people here are making a living. There are so many beautiful shops set in lovely wooden, carved alcoves with copper pots and pans spilling out into the road, pashminas, saris, and fabrics piled high, and in the markets, baskets filled with bright purple eggplants, sugar cane, papaya, bushels of greens, and everything in between. There's an abundance here that I haven't felt anywhere else.

Tomorrow, Deshain, a festival for families and animal sacrifice, begins in earnest. The city is packed with bodies, and people are buying new outfits and foodstuffs for the party. In the park, we passed a field filled with ducks and hundreds of goats ready for slaughter. Our Nepali friends warned us that the streets and temples are going to be slick with the blood of water buffalo and other unlucky animals.

We've spent the last two days wandering the streets. Lonely Planet laid out a wonderful walking tour, and we poked around all these hidden passageways and courtyards, finding a street filled with beauty salons, another with dentist shops, and still more for wedding beads, fabric, and spices. Today, we explored Durbar Square, an enormous complex of temples and the House of the Kumari, the living child goddess. After two days and miles of walking, we're still discovering new and impossibly lovely things.

***

This morning we woke up at 9 AM and went downstairs to meet up with Scott, Stephen, and Michelle. For breakfast, we walked into Thamel and stopped at the Weizen German Bakery for a breakfast of eggs, toast, potatoes, and tea. We relaxed for a bit, talking about plans for the day and taking advantage of the free wifi, and then we headed towards Durbar Square.

On our way to the square, I spotted a gorgeous piece of white fabric with a bold red pattern on top hanging from a shop window. When I asked the man how much he wanted for it, he told me 600 rupees. I offered him 400. He screwed up his nose, nodded his head, and said, 'done.'

With six yards of beautiful fabric in my day bag, I was cooking up all sorts of plans: curtains? Drapes for a canopy bed? Pillows? Both Joshua and I decided that we should buy more. Nepali rupees are 70 to the dollar, so I had just purchased six yards of fabric for five dollars. With a new farm house and lots of windows to dress, buying fabric here is not only cheaper than anything we could find in the US, but the fabric is also far more beautiful.

In Durbar Square, we purchased our tickets. The complex of temples is enormous, and we spent the next three or four hours just wandering. Most of the temples were elevated on platforms like pyramids, so we could climb the steps and look out over the hustle and bustle of people getting ready for Deshain Festival. Men were carrying great bundles of fresh surgar cain on their backs, and the holy men were out in full force, blessing people with marigolds and red paint, and then demanding a fee for their holy generosity. Although we tried to avoid them, I was unavoidably blessed by one such orange-robed man in the street. He demanded 200 rupees in payment. I gave him 15.

In the meantime, we spotted the most bizarre looking animal: it looked like a goat with its horns and muzzle, but it had floppy ears and it was enormous - almost the size of a cow. With long, glossy hair, it was truly bizarre. Standing tied up to a meat shop, it didn't look like it was long for this world.

In one of the temple courtyards, Michelle and I stumbled across two Nepali men lighting a couple of spliffs. One of the men asked us where we were from, and hearing my voice, the other man said, 'oh, she's American.' I laughed and told him he was right. As we admired the temple front, the man explained the significance of the paintings. We got to talking, and he told us all sorts of things: about the meaning of Kathmandu, the Kuwari goddess and why she's a child, the Deshain Festival, Nepali People, and the hippies and beatniks that used to come here in the 70s. They were so friendly, and when Scott and Stephen ducked into the courtyard to say that they fancied a cup a tea, we invited the two Nepali men, Pudyup and Corban, to come and join us.

We made the right choice, because Pudyup and Corban knew the best place to have a cup of tea: a little cafe hidden on top of a seven story building. From our little table, we could see all of Kathmandu valley, Durbar Square below, and little children flying their paper flags. While we drank tea, Pudyup joked that Nepal stands for 'Neighbor en peace and love' while India stands for 'I'll never do it again.' He taught us how to say 'thank you' in Nepali - dhanyabad, and he also explained that Nepali don't say 'goodbye,' they say faerie lan bai, or until we meet again. He said it was part of their philosophy; they don't cut ties, they don't say goodbye, they share of themselves, and they care for one another. Before Pudyup and Corban left, we took a picture, and Pudyup split his fingers in a peace sign for the camera.

Back down in Durbar Square, we ducked into another courtyard and met another character. Dressed in a suit and a Nepali cap, this man followed Michelle and I around, asking us where we are from and telling us that we have lovely eyes. He explained that he used to be a Casanova when he was young, but now he's too old. He's almost forty! He laughed and shook his head, gesturing at the beautiful Kumari living quarters behind him: 'usually, I explain all this stuff to you. I tell you all about why it looks like this, but you know? Today I'm stoned, and right now, I'm just in the mood to make friends. Hello! How are you?' We laughed and told him that everyone needs a vacation every once in a while, and he agreed. 'Happy Deshain!'

After we saw the Kumari palace, we wandered through the Durbar market, looking at hundreds of antique and handmade crafts from the mountains. There were wooden dolls, bone carvings, gilt frames and masks, gorgeous mountain coral and torquise... At one counter, I sat down with one of the craftsmen to admire his earrings. I picked out five pairs, and we dickered a bit for a good price. In particular, I fell in love with a pair of earrings that look like prayer wheels. The spin just like the real thing, and they have 'om mani padme hum' written in Tibetan.

After a bit of market wandering, we looked through the last of Durbar Square and then parted ways for a few hours. Joshua and I had to go down to the permit office to retrieve a couple of Annapurna Trekking tickets, and Scott, Stephen, and Michelle decided to go back and explore Thamel.

To get to the permit office, we headed past Kathmandu Mall and a large park. The place was absolutely brimming with people, and everywhere we looked, there were people selling things on the sidewalks, in the streets, in the grass, and out of shop windows. I salivated over the sculptural fruit salads (papaya, apple, coconut, and pineapple skewered down with shards of sugar cane).

At the permit office, the men behind the desk were in a flurry. Festival is tomorrow, and they're closing early. At first, they told us to come back in a couple of days, and then they finally relented. After filling out a bit a paper work, submitting our passport photos, and paying a couple of fees, we got our permits, and a few thousand rupees poorer, we wandered back.

Before we got back the more touristy part of Kathmandu, we stopped to do some shopping. There wasn't a Westerner in sight, so we figured this might be a better place to get some good deals. On a blanket over the sidewalk, we purchased a couple more long pieces of gorgeous fabric with very retro, bold floral designs, and then in a sari shop, we dickered with a very stiff salesman for four more lovely pieces. In another shop, Joshua bought a knock-off North Face day pack for the Annapurna trek, and in another shop, we bought even more fabric: 8 meters of the most beautiful ochre, handwoven silk. In all, for eight pieces of fabric - and not a one of them less than 5 meters - we spent a little less than 90 dollars. The most expensive was the handwoven silk (30 dollars for 8 yards), but if you saw it, you'd understand. Josh's new pack was 2000 rupees, and with 50 liters of space, it will hold some of our newly acquired booty :)

Back in Thamel, we met up with Scott, Stephen, and Michelle at a Tibetan-Mexican restuarant. Joshua and I both ordered enchiladas which were delicious, and Scott ordered a tongba, a traditional hot millet beer, with his meal. The beer is actually a refill sort of deal, so we all had a try, and it was delicious - hot and yeasty, and very, very strong - you drink it with a straw, refill it with a thermos of hot water, and inside the mug, there's a ton of fermented millet.

After dinner, Joshua, Stephen, and Scott went to the Internet cafe, and Michelle and I wandered back to the guest house. Right now, I'm catching up on my writing, listening to the sounds of the street below.

October 12, 2010

The bus pulled into Kathmandu at 6:30 AM, and a man came onto the bus to corral the five of us. Stuffing our bags onto the roofrack, we all bundled into his car and took in the still-silent streets of Kathmandu as he drove to Hotel Peace Night. Once at the guest house, we unloaded our stuff in simple rooms and parted ways, planning to meet up again around 11 AM.

Joshua finally had his appetite back, so before we took a nap, we wandered over to the Yak Restaurant in Thamel for a little breakfast. I ordered a banana pancake, and Joshua had a filling potato, egg, and toast plate. While we ate, I scrambled to catch up with a little writing, and Joshua perused the Lonely Planet, thinking up a grand plan for the next few days.

Back at the guest house, we took showers and laid down for a couple of hours. When we woke up, we met up with Scott, Stephen, and Michelle and walked over to the Indian Embassy to work out the Permit to Re-enter. The walk to the Embassy was about a mile, and on our way there, we gained our first introduction to the city. With cycle rickshaws shooting through the streets and beautiful, old buildings with lovely woodwork lining either side, it had more personality and detail than most of the Indian cities we've seen so far. I'm not sure what it was, but I was already starting to love it.

At the Indian Embassy, we filled out another visa form, a permit to re-enter, and then we hopped over to a photocopy center to copy our Indian visa, our enter and exit stamps, and our on-going flight out of Delhi. Back at the Embassy, we dropped off our passport with instructions to come and collect them at 5 PM. In all, it took about 45 minutes.

By now, Scott, Stephen, and Michelle were absolutely famished. We high-tailed it back to Thamel and using LP as our guide, we found Thakali Restaurant, a place known for its Nepali food. Inside, the place was bustling with a lunch hour rush, and although most of the tables were full, there wasn't a Westerner in sight. Feeling like we had discovered a well-kept secret, we ordered Thalis and drinks, and then ate until we thought we would burst.

Once we were done eating, we still had a few hours before we needed to be back at the Embassy. Deciding to stick together, we followed Joshua as he used the Lonely Planet walking tour to guide us through the city. We walked for three hours, and during that time, I fell completely in love. The buildings, shops, people, food, spices, temples... This place is wonderful. In particular, I loved this hidden passageway that was just filled with glittering wedding beads.

Just before 5, we headed back to the Embassy. There were a couple dozen other people there, but it didn't take long to get our passports back, and when we did, we were all granted a permit to re-enter. Voila! What a relief :)

Although we weren't starving, we were tired, and we decided to stop for dinner before we headed back to the guest house. At Chang Cheng, we found a really authentic Chinese Food place, and we all ordered the most fabulous meals: Szechuan chicken, Lemon chicken, braised tofu, and braised eggplant. It was an amazing meal.

Back at the guesthouse, we went up to the rooftop to play cards and drink beer, but we ended up just talking. We've been so lucky to run into these guys - they're very laid back and extremely friendly. It's a comfortable group to sight-see with, and we really enjoyed talking to one another. We stayed up for a bit, but we were all exhausted from the bus ride, so we said goodnight after a bit, with plans to see one another tomorrow.

October 11, 2010

We woke up at 6:30 AM to catch a rickshaw to the train station. When we got there, we wandered through the crowds until we found a digitized schedule that said where our train would depart from. Finding the correct platform, we took off our packs and sat on them to wait.

For breakfast, we grabbed a couple packs of biscuits, and while we nibbled, we watched baby monkeys wrestle and play on the opposite platform. They're so adorable, I could probably watch them for hours.

While we waited, I watched people. Varanasi is the busiest city we've been to so far in India, and it's also the poorest. Everywhere I looked, there were beggars. One man was just wearing underwear, and he was standing near the tracks, peeing. Shit was running down his legs. Another man was leggless, begging for food. Old women were starving and missing limbs.

One boy came up to me, and the sight of him turned my stomach. I've never seen a more emaciated human in my entire life. He was so thin, I could see every vertebrae, the sharp angles of his scapulae, each outline of his pelvis, and his knees looked almost oversized. He was just a child. My throat closed up and my eyes welled with tears, but it felt inappropriate to cry. He's the one in pain. It was so awful. He held out his hands to us, and although he wanted money, I gave him cookies. He sat down to eat them, lowering his bones painfully to the floor, and once he was sitting next to us, I gestured for him to stay. Down the platform, I ordered a few pieces of naan and dahl, and then I brought it back to him. He was so malnourished, he could barely eat half of it.

After the boy left, an old man in rags and crazed eyes approached us. He started talking loudly, and then he knelt and touched our feet over and over again. We asked him to stop, but he continued. At one point, he hawked and spit right in front of us, and then prostrating himself, he rubbed his forehead in the spit and muttered. Sitting back upright, he touched our feet a few more times and then, blessedly, moved on. Joshua and I looked at each other, and I said, 'what the fuck was that all about?' We both bust out laughing.

Less than five minutes before we expected our train to arrive, a woman's voice came over the loudspeakers, and everyone standing near us picked up their bags and walked over to another platform. We followed suit, praying that we were about to get on the right train.

When the train arrived, we spent a few frantic, harried moments trying to figure out which sleeper car was ours, and then finally, we found someone who spoke a little English and was able to direct us to the right place. For the next three hours, we laid in our sleeper seats, reading. I finished Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, hankering for a good bottle of wine and some roasted vegetables, and then I started Michael Pallin's New Europe.

Half an hour before our train arrived in Gorakhpur, we moved our bags to the open space at the end of the sleeper. There, two English men were sitting, enjoying the breezes coming in from the open doors. Scott and Stephen are both from Canterberry, and the two of them have been traveling for about ten days. Apparently, Delhi, Agra, and Varanasi absolutely wore them out, and now they're headed for a little rest and respite in Pokhara, Nepal. We chatted for a little bit, comparing travel notes and plans, and then Scott recommended that we hold onto the side bars and hang out the door to catch a breeze.

If I wasn't already in love with the trains, I am now. Hanging outside of the train made me feel like I was in the old west, except there were rice paddies and banana trees in the scenery. I hung out there for a long while, feeling the wind cool me down, and enjoying the beautiful green things rushing by.

Finally, we arrived in Gorakhpur. As we left the train station, another English traveller, a woman named Michelle, joined us. She was headed for Kathmandu, so the five of us banded together to find a bus to the border. As we walked through town, a number of touts bombarded us with outrageous (and some not-so-outrageous) offers for taxi rides, but we eventually decided just to take the bus.

Placing a great deal of trust in the goodwill of our fellow Indian travellers, we relinquished our packs to a man atop the bus. I don't even think he strapped them down, but before we knew it, we were abroad an intensely crowded bus. Once again, the seats were crammed in close, and our knees knocked heavily against the seats in front of us.

It cost 70 rupees apiece for a two and a half hour busride to Sonauli, on the border of India and Nepal. I dozed off and on, and every time we stopped, I worried about our bags. The men and women packed into the isle starred at us. A couple of them leaned over us to the window, horked loudly, and then spit with gusto.

In Sonauli, everyone got off the bus, and thankfully, each of us received our packs unharmed. We all breathed a sigh of relief. Then, not really sure where we were headed, we walked in the same direction the bus had been going. Before long, a man came up to us, and not trying to sell us anything, explained to us that we each needed 7,000 rupees for a Nepali visa, and that we also needed to secure an exit stamp from Indian immigration. Leading us across the street, he deposited us at the Indian immigration office where we each filled out a couple of forms and had our passports stamped. When we asked about the mutliple entry/ permit to re-enter debacle with our Indian visas, the men explained that we would need to go to the Indian Embassy in Kathmandu. They would be able to issue us a permit to re-enter there, and it shouldn't be a problem. They were sure that it wouldn't take any longer than a couple of hours, so we all felt somewhat reassured.

The only other border crossing I've ever done by land was from the US to Canada and, I suppose, England to Scotland. Although the US gets in a right huff about stamping passports and checking cars and what not, Canada couldn't seem to care less, and we were just able to drive right on through. Scotland just had a road sign. As for India and Nepal, I'm not sure what I expected, but it was sort of surreal to carry our packs under the sign that said 'Indian border' and then a few meters later 'Welcome to Nepal.' People were crossing the border on foot by the dozens, and all around us, there were relaxed military men watching people come and go. On the other side, we walked into the Nepali Immigration Office, and there, the men allowed Joshua to run off to get some money from the ATM while I waited with our packs and passports (thank god). Apparently, when he got to the bank, he asked the military guard how much he was allowed to take out of the ATM. The max was 10,000 rupees, and when the ATM shelled out the bills, the guard threw his hands up in the air, wiggled, and shouted, '10,000 rupees!' like he had just won the lottery. When Joshua pulled out 10,000 more, the man did it again, beside himself with glee. Joshua decided right then and there that he loved Nepal.

When Joshua got back, we filled out a few forms, paid 7,000 rupees each for a 30 day visa (we're going to have to get a 15 day extension in Pokhara - the man said it's very easy, and it's just 3 dollars more a day, so we'll save about 20 dollars each by doing that instead of buying the 90 day visa). When we finished, the five of us loaded our packs back on and went in search of a bus to Kathmandu. Although Scott and Stephen had initially planned on just heading to Pokhara, they decided to stick with us and head to Kathmandu because they also needed to get the permit to re-enter.

A few meters down the road, a bus tout found us and led us to his bus. I love the buses and carrier trucks here; they are decorated with bright, colored lights, intricate gold and silver foil, paint, and little altars to Hindu gods and Bodhisattvas. After we agreed to the bus, the man led us to the ticket office where we each paid a couple hundred rupees for the 12 hour (!) bus ride to Kathmandu. The man at the office was really helpful, and when he told us that he also owned a budget hotel in Kathmandu and that he would be happy to arrange an early check-in plus transportation from the bus station to the hotel, we all agreed.

Back outside, we waited for the bus for about 30 minutes. While we waited, we purchased a couple bags of chips and cookies - it was already 5:30, and we hadn't eaten anything except a couple of cookies all day. As we munched on our snacks, a couple of Nepali men came up to us and gave us the 411: in Nepal, it's 15 minutes later than in India. Oh, and it's also 2067 - Nepal's a good 57 years and 15 minutes ahead of India. The bus? It should be about 10 minutes late because it takes more time to run businesses and also be friendly. The money's different; the language is different; the people are different. Welcome.

We laughed, and all of us agreed that we had already noticed the difference between India and Nepal. In the immigration office, it was all smiles and advice on how we can save money. In the bank, it was like we had won the lottery. The bus ride was inexpensive, and everyone was helpful. We were already in love.

Stowing our packs in a little locked luggage space below the bus (so I could breathe easier), we headed onto the bus and found our seats. Although it was a little cramped, the seats reclined, and we spent the first hour of the ride talking to our seatmates, a man from Agra, a Nepali man, and a couple more Himalayan cowboys. They were all incredibly friendly, and they wanted to know all about our trip. By the time the lights went out, my face hurt from smiling so much.

That said, the bus ride was a little ridiculous. We stopped a dozen times, and although I slept, it was one of the more unpleasant night bus rides we've taken so far. Apparently, I slept through a police check in the middle of the night, but the men just questioned Stephen on behalf of all of us. They were uninterested in our visas or passports or even in the fact that we had just met less than 12 hours ago. They just wanted to know if we liked Nepal. Stephen said he was fairly sure that he could speak for all of us: yes. Emphatically so.

The 411 on Indian Visas, Nepali Visas, and a land border crossing between India and Nepal:

I'm including this in the post because, although I searched high and low for this information before we left, I was unable to find any solid information. Hopefully, this helps.

1) Joshua and I have 6 month, multiple entry visas for India; however, India stipulates that there be a two month gap between an exit and re-entry into the country. When we arrived in Delhi, the man at immigration said that this didn't apply to neighboring countries, but that's not entirely true. You do need a permit to re-enter (Travisa, the private company that filed our visas in the states, also said that this wouldn't be an issue, but they're also mistaken.).

*Note: I recently discovered that Americans can get longer Indian visas. I think Derrick and Aubrey said that there are 2 and even 10 year visas. I never saw these, but they have them, so it is possible to get them. They just cost a bit more.

2) In order to re-enter India before the two month gap, you need to go to the Indian Embassy. In Nepal, the Embassy is in Kathmandu (and nowhere else). If you have a Lonely Planet, the Embassy is clearly marked on your map, and although it's a little bit of a walk from central Thamel, it can be done in less than 30 minutes.

3) Once you get to the Embassy, you need to get two pieces of paper work: one looks exactly like the visa application form you filled out to get your original visa, and another is a half sheet of paper requesting a permit to re-enter. Next, you need to make copies of your Indian Visa, your passport, and the India entry/exit stamps. In addition, you need proof that you plan to leave India (a copy or print out of your plane ticket is fine). Finally, staple a passport photo to the documents and hand it all in. It's probably best to do this all before noon. Once you've handed it in, they'll take your passport and tell you to come back at 5 PM. At 5 PM, you'll have to wait in line for a bit, and then they'll give your passport. Inside, you'll have a stamp that says you're allowed to re-enter before the two month waiting period.

4) In all, it takes about 45 minutes to go through the whole permit process at the embassy, and then it takes about 30 more minutes to get your passport back at the end of the day. With a 30 minute walk there and back a couple of times, it's a few hour ordeal, but it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.

5) For a Nepali Visa, you can just acquire one from the immigration office as your crossing the border. They don't accept 1000 rupee notes, so you'll have to get a currency exchange for 500 rupee notes (there's a currency exchange across from the Indian immigration office). Otherwise, they'll accept Indian, Nepali, or American currency. The visas cost a different amount depending on how long you want to be there, but no more than 100 dollars for a 90 day visa.

6) It's possible to get a shorter visa for less money and then get an extension at one of the immigration offices either in Kathmandu or Pokhara. I haven't done it yet, but apparently, it's relatively easy, and it can save you some money.

7) To cross the border into Nepal overland, there are a number of different ways (all listed in Lonely Planet). Here's how we did it: 1) We took a 3 1/2 hour train ride from Varanasi to Gorakhpur. This cost about 275 rupees per person. 2) We found a bus to Sonauli from Gorakhpur (this was a little tricky, but you could just as easily just take a cheap autorickshaw ride and ask them to bring you to the correct bus). They leave about every hour, and they cost 70 rupees a person. It should take less than 3 hours to get there. 3) In Sonauli, you need to first go to the Indian Immigration Office to fill out some paperwork and get an exit stamp (a small, open air office that sits right on the road), then you walk across the border and go to the Nepali Immigration Office to fill out more paperwork and pay for a visa. 4) From the border, you'll be able to find buses to either Pokhara (6 to 8 hours) or Kathmandu (12 hours). The bus to Kathmandu costs 550 Nepali rupees per person.

Annapurna Conservation Area Entry Permit and Trekking Information Management System (TIMS)

1) You need to pay an entrance fee to get into the Annapurna. It requires some paperwork, two passport photos, and 2,000 Nepali rupees per person.

2) You need to register with the governmnet in order to trek, and that's why you get the TIMS. It requires some paperwork, a passport photo, and 1,500 Nepali rupees per person (Lonely Planet is wrong; it's not free.)

3) To get both the Permit and the TIMS, you can go to the Trekking Permit Office in either Kathmandu or Pokhara. Details are listed in Lonely Planet, but the hours are a bit off: make sure you show up before 3 PM. They close earlier than the listed 5 PM. You can walk to the Office from Thamel; it's about a mile and a half.