My
stroll actually began as a rickshaw ride, or should I say drive? Yep,
I convinced the operator to let me take the reins. It was not pretty.
Had it been designed for a Nepali mutant (i.e. an individual over six
feet) I am sure it would have been delightful. As it was my knees
were either at my elbows or in my armpits. It also had a bit of a
pulling problem as I quickly discovered. One rotation sent me into
the curb. As I failed to fully appreciate the width of the passenger
area I came close to knocking over a parked motorcycle. I wonder what
the Nepali word for ‘douchebag’ is?
 |
| I'm no traffic cop but....... |
I
soldiered on but found braking to be a problem also and that,
combined with the steering issue, made my maiden voyage a real trial.
The owner was leery of my skills so he constantly had his hand on the
left handle bar and the back brake. Probably a good thing. People
stared. Horns honked. My heart pounded. I have a new found respect
for rickshaw drivers, not that I was unsympathetic before but now I
really get it.
After
a few adrenaline pumped minutes and a few close calls I relented and
abdicated my throne thereby taking my rightful place in the
rear…..for about twenty seconds. We reached a small incline right
before a bridge and the struggle began. He gave it is all but I could
not bear to watch. I dismounted, paid the fare and walked the rest of
the way.
It
was not so far and if not for the opportunity to drive I would have
just walked in the first place. I found myself standing on the bridge
overlooking the Bishnumati River. Words I would use to describe what
I saw: putrid, rancid, noxious, putrescent. Great place for a vomit
festival (Vomitalooza?). I was presented with a river of pure sewage
decorated with piles and piles of garbage. There were also more than
a few pigs rooting through the water looking for a savory meal
accompanied by crows upon their backs. It was absolutely disgusting.
I
went down to the water’s edge for a closer look. It was not easy
and I had to try to keep the focus off the smell. Rotten food, trash,
shit, pigs, dogs, crows, and cows were among the local inhabitants
and since it runs through Kathmandu there were also houses along the
bank. I’m sure the pigs weren’t feral. Imagine enjoying a nice
succulent pork chop from one of those prize oinkers. Yuuummmy!!!
 |
| I'm no sanitation engineer but..... |
I
left hoping I was not looking into the future of humanity in light of
overpopulation. Cheery thought, no? So I continued up the hill and
made my way up the staircase leading to Swayambhunath. This is
one the most important sites for followers of Tibetan Buddhism in
Nepal and is an impressive complex. Unfortunately, there are more
tourists than monkeys and enough trinkets on sale to fill a Super
Walmart. On top of that the upper portion of the stupa is being
repaired so ideal photos are impossible. Any spiritual feeling is
pretty much obliterated by the hordes. None the less there are nice
views of the Kathmandu valley and the architecture is interesting
enough.
Tomorrow
I head to Mustang,
sometimes referred to as ‘The Last Forbidden Kingdom’ located in
the northeast portion of Nepal and bordered by Tibet (China).
‘Mustang (from Tibetan Mun
Tan (Wylie smon-thang) which means fertile plain) is the
former Kingdom of Lo and now part of Nepal, in the
north-east of that country, bordering China on the Central
Asian plateau between the Nepalese provinces
of Dolpo and Manang. It is roughly 80 km long
(north-south) and 45 km at its widest, and is at an elevation of over
2500 m. Mustang is also known as a "Tibet outside the Tibetan
Border" for it survived the Chinese invasion of 1951
and hence it fosters the original Tibetan culture, although it
is now politically part of Nepal. Life in Mustang revolves
around animal husbandry and trade. The region is the
easiest corridor through the Himalayas linking the Tibetan
Plateau and Central Asia with the tropical Indian
plains, and it enjoyed a trans-Himalayan trade. Because of its
strategic importance it went through many wars, and hence various
cultural and religious practices thrived in parallel in Mustang (from
Wikipedia).’
Although
tourists are allowed a permit is required and is not cheap ($500 per
person). And there has to be at least two names on the permit
otherwise a solo trekker will have to shell out a cool grand. This is
one of the major reasons I have been dawdling in Thamel for a week.
Per my trakking agency I have been waiting for a German couple to
arrive so I could join them on a tour of the Mustang region. However,
when they did finally arrive yesterday they were none too pleased to
discover Richie the American was going to tag along. I guess it would
spoil their love adventure.
Imagine
my distress when I thought my trip would be sabotaged by a couple of
ornery Germans. I was beckoned to the travel office for a meeting and
was pleased when I was told it would not be a problem. I would be
provided my own guide and we would do our best to steer clear of
Hansel & Gretel.
That
might not be so easy. We will be traveling to the start point
together by bus and plane and leaving from the same area. We will
also probably end up at the same tea houses (accommodation) in the
evening. The temptation to be obnoxious may be overwhelming. The
total trip length is around fourteen days. Tomorrow morning I take a
bus to Pokhara and from there a flight to Jomsom in Lower Mustang. We
then begin the hike from there which should fill ten days (length of
permit) from Jomsom to Lo Manthang (the capital) and back. I’m as
giddy as a virgin on prom night.
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'Love me or hate me, but spare me your indifference.' -- Libbie Fudim