After getting back home (Kathmandu) from Bhotenamlang (the village I live and teach in) for the one month government holiday I was really looking forward to a peaceful few weeks living at my grandma's house, getting coddled, fed, and cared for. I had a few things on my agenda (re-applying to college, renewing my passport, and buying a plane ticket) but generally I was ready to do nothing for a while. I seriously had no idea what this month would have in store for me!
A couple days after getting home a family friend called me and told me of an engineer friend of hers who needs an assistant on a project. I would be doing architectural and anthropological fieldwork in one of the most beautiful, biodiverse regions in the world: Mustang, a remote area in Nepal. The news came at just the right time... the INGO I was supposed to intern for this month had called to tell me they didn't have any work for me. I was sulking and doubting this gap year (why didn't I just go straight to college like a normal person??!?! what am I even doing with my life??!!) just as the phone rang and I learned the good news...
I think no matter how much I had told myself I was ready to chill for a month, I was deep down really hoping for some crazy opportunity like this to come across my plate. I don't believe in God but this moment felt too good to be true...like someone was looking out for me right when I needed it!
I quickly packed my backpack, organized the necessary trekking permits, and bought a one way bus ticket. Exactly one week after arriving from Bhotenamlang I set out yet again on another unknown.
The engineer (a witty, bad-ass British-Pakistani-Malaysian woman) and I left on a horrific (18 hour!) bus ride to Mustang, the region where the famous Annapurna mountains stand... I joke that it took as long to fly from California to Nepal as it does to travel a few hundred miles in Nepal. We were given seats at the back of the bus where every rock we drove over felt like a boulder. The road is a narrow path clinging to the mountain side right above a rushing river. It has often been dubbed the "World's Most Dangerous Road".
I could write a whole entry about how painful the bus ride was, how many times I yelled at the driver from the back of the bus to stop for a pee break, or how many times I woke up with someones hands or elbows poking my face. But alas, I have two weeks worth of incredible stories and memories I want to share. Needless to say, it was a restless night bumping through the mountains in a humid, packed bus.
The next morning I saw the sun rise over the snow capped Himalayas. It was such a powerful, peaceful scene. In fact, the whole next week while up in Mustang I had this sense that I was in a sublime, holy place. The snow-capped Himalayas (on display at all times of the day) and their majestic presence lent a calm to me in these days. I had never seen anything that beautiful!
While staying in Mustang, the engineer and I were conducting research about a specific temple called the Jwala Mai Temple within a larger holy pilgrimage site called Muktinath. Historically, upper caste Hindus would make a multi-week pilgrimage from India to Muktinath, Nepal to pay homage to the gods there and bathe in holy water. People have been doing this for generations and it remains a family tradition to this day (aided by airplanes and busses, this long perilous journey has become a quick and easy trip). Within that holy complex, the Jwala Mai temple is an ancient site containing a fire that has supposedly been on for millennia. The temple was constructed on top of the flame and over a holy stream because the flame was believed to be a manifestation of the gods. Though the site is ancient, the temple has been estimated to only be a few hundred years old (there's no consensus... 1500s according to some, 1600s according to others). Anyways, the temple was recently deemed structurally unsafe due to a collapsing roof. The people in charge of it are planning to dismantle this old structure and build a new one in its place, all while hopefully not destructing the ancient flame which sits beneath the building. The engineer (who has been there many times before) devised a project in efforts of preserving the architectural and cultural history of this ancient, significant temple. Otherwise, with the construction of the new temple the legacy of this old temple would be lost forever. So, my days were filled with taking pictures of the temple and wallpaintings from different angles and different heights. I had to climb through all sorts of prickly bushes and stinging nettle to get good photos! I took many measurements of walls, skylights, stairs, windows, doorframes, and floor panneling. Even though I went in not knowing anything about engineering, I came out knowing how to use a plumb bob to measure vertical lengths and how to use a spirit level to determine the tilt of the roof. It was exciting to work on something real and feel like my effort was contributing to the important preservation of an ancient cultural site. I do have to say though, sometimes it felt really stupid to be so invested in the measurements of a building. I was more interested in the human aspect of a space like this... what's the significance of this temple? Why does this place matter? So I also conducted interviews with the nuns in charge of maintaining the temple and sometimes would ask worshippers about their connection to the temple. I set up shop right outside the temple and met all sorts of people from many places within the Indian Subcontinent. I heard many stories from pilgrims about the importance of family tradition and just as many "no idea... this place was in a tourist guide book... I heard it was cool". One thing that was really frustrating to me throughout this experience was how trekkers wouldn't even bother going into the temple. Their guides would lead them right past and onwards on the path. For me being a trekking guide would mean sharing the culture and history as well as the natural beauty of this country.... Sometimes, I would tell trekkers passing by that they should check out the temple because its crazy old and really beautiful. Oftentimes, people would ask me questions about the place assuming I work there...I felt a bit like a guide myself!
For the one week we were in Mustang doing our research we lived at a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery close to the holy pilgrimage site we were researching. There was a very rhythmic schedule in the day to day lives of the nuns... from early morning meditation sessions and Tibetan prayers to chores and communal meals, the nuns at the nunnery were both religious practitioners and regular women. It was interesting to learn about Buddhism and see first hand the community that forms around it, getting to know them both as custodians of the Dharma and as regular women. I made many so called "Ani Chung Chung" (translated roughly to "small nun") friends and we exchanged stories. One night they even performed a dance showcase to Katy Perry songs for me... kind of surreal. But I also learned about the dark side of nunneries and monasteries. Sometimes, poor parents drop off toddlers or relatives drop off orphaned kids in hopes that the nuns will feed, clothe, and educate them... most nunneries are usually underfunded and many cannot afford to take in young kids and act as an orphanage. Often, kids from poor families are sent by their parents to a nunnery to help alleviate the family of financial burden. Despite the lack of funds, nunneries tend to welcome these young kids with open arms and introduce them to Dharma, the practice of Buddhism.
The week collecting measurements and photos went by quickly. Before I knew it the research project and my stay in this beautiful region with the friendly nuns was over. For the next few days the engineer and I did some sight seeing in nearby villages. I went to the towns of Kagbeni, Jomsom, Marpha, and Tukuche. These villages used to be part of an ancient salt trade road. The wealth that trade brought has left stunning architectural building in pristine valleys encircled by the massive Himalayas. These villages are also known for their delicious apples; I had all sorts of apple crumble cake, apple juices, and ciders during my few days there. It was during my visits in these places that I met so many kind people, was invited to many homes for tea, home-made liquor, or dried sheep meat jerky, and explored places that looked like they existed inside a movie screen. I also went on a few day-hikes with these breathtaking views of the Annapurna range....We visited Gompas (a temple including a monastery/nunnery) and also schools and people's homes. Most people I talked to though would share their Dhuka, stories of pain. I met one woman from the Dalit (untouchable) caste who invited me into her house for home-made millet alcohol. She told me her family decided to convert to Christianity because their own religion (Hinduism) tolerates and from her perspective even approves of the mistreatment and abuse of people in her caste. "Christianity has no castes" she told me and that was so appealing to her family. I also befriended a sweet middle-aged woman who was running an empty guesthouse. As she prepared me an Apple cake from scratch she told me about how this guesthouse used to be packed with trekkers and tourists. She lamented the construction of the big road because it significantly redirected the flow of her clients away from her guesthouse and towards other places. Everywhere I went, no matter how beautiful the scenery was, I was reminded that every day of life here is a challenge. Money is scarce in remote Himalayan valleys like this....
The whole weeklong research trip was an interesting clash of two worlds I usually feel are distinct. The Mustang region (formerly isolated from major Western influence and therefore culturally well preserved) is one of the most popular trekking destinations.... the place is now crawling with Europeans and Americans. They've brought lots of money into the local economy but can also sometimes carry a certain air of indifference to people's issues or condescension to their "third world" way of life.
I don't really identify with these trekkers but I also don't really identify with the locals. Instead, I feel caught in the middle... one foot in each door yet not fully in either. I used to hate the complexity my biracial and bicultural identity brought into my life.... it makes renewing passports, getting citizenship, and visa processes a logistical mess... (I could launch into a whole RANT about that)... it makes questions like "Where are you from?" feel like a joke, and gets me uncomfortable stares when I board a local bus in Nepal. Sometimes it feels like I have to prove myself to everyone I meet... It often can feel like no matter where I am I don't really belong...(but then again by whose standards... and why does that even matter? If I know for myself who I am than why does "belonging" into other people's labels and boxes matter?) On this trip, though, I came to appreciate this unique position on a different level. I have all the privileges and freedoms of a Western woman while also being an insider with access to a world most foreigners don't even know exists. When I speak in English to people here I've noticed conversations feel more transactional and aggressive.... but when I switch into Nepali there's a softening of people's demeanors, one that allows you to really talk heart to heart and get to know people and communities.
The next week the engineer went back to Kathmandu and I wanted to stay back and travel around some more. The plan was to visit Pokhara, an urban lakeside tourist's heaven, before heading to Bandipur, a small hill-top town famous for its architecture and Newar people (the ethnic/linguistic group my family identifies as). Usually I get nervous for solo-trips, especially if its somewhere I've never been. But somehow this time a new calm took over. When traveling in Europe or in the US I get caught up in hotel reservations or bus tickets or itineraries... but here all that doesn't exist. The only way to get a hotel room or a bus ticket is to show up in person the day of and get one! To travel in Nepal, you need to be spontaneous and relaxed. I had to adapt to this mindset and it helped me become much more easy going. Now even if its already 6pm, I'm 60 miles from my destination, and I still don't have a hotel to stay at I can confidently say I feel fine!
I took another beautiful bus ride to Pokhara (imagine mountains on both side, wind rushing through open windows, and music blasting on the stereo) and spent a few days there. I rented a boat for myself for the whole day and just paddled around the huge Fewa Lake, read on my Kindle, journaled, took photos, slept, and enjoyed the scenery. I also went on a few day hikes and enjoyed the abundance of Western restaurants and bars. I love the bustle of urban life (much welcome after many days in remote rural communities) and often feel most at home in a crowd of strangers.I didn't have any clean clothes left to wear (and laundry is $) so I went shopping too. While in Pokhara, I visited the "World Peace Pagoda" which my grandfather helped fundraise and construct. The pagoda is a big temple at the top of a hill overlooking the city. It has come to represent world peace, global cooperation, and love. I hadn't gotten to know my grandfather before he passed but I felt as if by being here and enjoying a part of the legacy he left behind I understood him better. As all the tourists swarmed around it with their selfie sticks and bucket hats I napped under a tree and took in the scene. In Pokhara there were all sorts of cool things to do like paragliding, sky diving, and bungee jumping. If I was a bit more fearless, I would have done something like that on this trip. And though it crossed my mind a few times, I decided I'd rather go on 10 night bus rides than ever do any of those!! Next time... maybe.
Besides dinner time ("Table for one please." "Just one?" "Yup, it's just me today." "Why? Where are your friends? Where's your husband?" "Oh no... I'm just 18" * blank faces that stare at me as if being 18 is an excuse for leaving your husband behind to go frolick around on your own *) I didn't feel alone much. Dinner is the most awkward time when I realize how alone I actually am in this experience. I feel a bit of jealousy creep in as I watch big friend groups or families eat together. Besides that, though I've come to love being alone... this trip really brought home the point that being alone doesn't mean being lonely. I feel like I got to know myself better these few days. I felt so deeply, truly happy.
Before I knew it my stay in Pokhara had come to a close and I was off to my next destination. Before I tell you about that though I need to talk about my bus ride.... I feel like I could write an entire book about my experiences on bus rides in Nepal! I consider myself a bit of an expert after having been on so many. But before I get too carried away with these arrogant claims.....
On the bus to Bandipur (beautiful drive through the lush lowlands of Nepal) I met this adorable 10 year old girl who was sitting behind me. We both stuck our heads out the window to feel the wind blasting against our faces as small mud houses and villages passed by. When the bus pulled over for a short stop we both got off (I left all my stuff behind) for a bathroom break. When we got back, the bus was gone and with it the girl's mom and all my stuff (clothes, camera, passport, money, laptop....). She started crying and I could feel the tears in my throat as the panic rose in my chest. SHIT. I grabbed her hand and we ran along the highway in hopes of seeing the bus. The whole situation was horrific. It must have been quite the scene: strange white woman and wailing Nepali kid running on the highway. Finally we saw the bus had pulled over and was waiting for us. Once we got back on I was too tired and panicked to tell off the driver. Moral of the story do not leave the bus for a pee break and expect them to wait for you to get back (even if you tell them!).
Anyways, after quite the eventful bus ride, I finally arrived in Bandipur. A week ago, while staying in Mustang, I had seen an advertisement for a guesthouse here. The photos of the town were so nice I knew I had to see this town with my own eyes... And so now I had finally made it! Once you arrive in town you feel like you've stepped back a few hundred years. Vines and tropical flowers twist and climb up the walls of traditional brick houses. Little children ran around with a kite made of a nylon burlap and chips bags. Old women and men sat on their stoops smoking cigarettes through yellowing teeth or chewing tobacco. This town too use to be connected to the salt trade route, which is what first brought people, money and culture here. An old man I talked to told me stories of people flocking by the hundreds to find a place to stay here during their journey to go buy salt and oil. Something really fun about my few days living here was that (with the aid of my mother-tongue, Newari,) I could connect with the locals. The only people I speak in Newari to are my mother and grandmother so for me it is the language of motherly love. Usually whenever I meet Newar people I feel like I can let my guard down. Since the town is inhabited by these people, I found it very easy to make friends! Rather than sightseeing as I had set out to do, I would walk along the street and meet people. I drank tea with countless new friends and we would sit on their stoops. I made lots of little friends, danced around with some girls, learned how to make incense with an old woman, talked to a young man about economic loss in this area, learned how old people shower at public taps (this was a bit intense), and even played badminton with the doctor from the local hospital (I had gone to the hospital earlier in the day to get a fever checked out and later in the day when I coincidentally met the same doctor who had treated me she asked whether I wanted to play badminton with her!... I won though). I also met a Peace Corps volunteer and we bonded for a few hours over dinner about the challenges and benefits of being in Nepal in hopes of affecting some change. My whole trip in Bandipur felt a bit like a dream..... it's kind of hard to do that experience justice in a paragraph.
This whole two week trip, from researching an old temple to traveling around on my own, brought unexpected memories and people into my life. I am proud to say I now essentially have a data bank of contacts in each village I visited! I learned so much about the history and people of these places and learned even more about myself. I think these days were some of the happiest of my life....I hope I never forget how these felt.