Arriving at my Nepali Village Homestay

I’m back! Laptop is fixed. Found good wi-fi in Jakarta, Indonesia. The blog rolls on!

My awesome host Jhabraj, a great man indeed!

My awesome host Jhabraj, a great man indeed!

Cheeky little villager Jeneet

Cheeky little villager Jeneet

Day 78 – Location: Kathmandu, Nepal

20/11/12

I left the hotel at 6:30am, wandering through the already busy streets and found a taxi to Machhapuchre bus stand on the outskirts of town, where I met Sophie and Jhabraj. The bus stand was the usual chaotic mix of buses, shouting conductors and roadside sellers combined with clouds of dust. Jhabraj warned us to watch our bags as bag theft is a problem here. One time he had even warned a woman and then shortly afterwards had asked her where her bag was – she had been chatting to a friend and it had literally been stolen from in front of her feet because she was so engrossed in conversation (women!). Bags safe, we boarded a mini bus and started on the 4 hour journey north to Kalikastan. It was full and as usual me and Sophie were the only tourists. The road was narrow and bumpy and we were squashed in the back row with our outlandish westerner legs.  We climbed steadily up, not seeing far over the smog of Kathmandu until the next valley when we broke through the smog layer – and the air finally became clear. You could see the pollution haze hovering above Kathmandu. My first thought was “I’ve been breathing that for weeks now”, my second thought was a more excited “when I blow my nose, maybe black goo won’t come out any more!”.

View out the bus window as we descend into the main valley. Himalayas in the distance.

View out the bus window as we descend into the main valley. Himalayas in the distance.

We had great views from the road which meandered along the side of forested hills. From here we could see a great valley with three clumps of snow- capped Himalayas towering over it all, we could see for probably hundreds of miles from here. Terrace farming was dotted around the landscape. We descended the valley hugging the hillside for the next hour, passing through a village where they were drying a load of vegetables, and climbed the other side of the valley. We went through a number of police checkpoints which Jhabraj explained are for them to check the drivers’ licenses. It’s to cut down on the many accidents that happen on this road, as often the bus conductors take over the driving – they have less experience and their mistakes have caused crashes. We zig-zagged around hairpins cimbing up and up, eventually reaching Kalikastan, a small town, around midday. Some other tourists were here setting off on treks in the Langtang area. From here we could see tree-topped ridgelines in all directions but the town obscured the view into the valleys around us.

View down the valley from the path to Karmi Danda

View down the valley from the path to Karmidanda

We had a quick cup of masala tea whilst the locals ogled us, and then set off with our bags on the short walk to Jhabraj’s village – Karmidanda. We walked along a dirt road and then down a footpath through a pine forest scattered with big flat rocks. It was very alpine. In breaks in the trees was an impressive view far into the valley below;  with countryside and terrace farming eventually reaching a turqoise river snaking into the distance. On the other side of the valley were massive cliffs and a green ridgeline, little villages were visible clinging onto the steep hillside. After twenty minutes we emerged from the forest into terraced farmland and a scattering of houses on the hillside, and soon reached Jhabrajs house.

We turned off this dirt road onto a footpath through the woods to reach the village

We turned off this dirt road onto a footpath through the woods to reach the village

Jabrjaj’s wife, Januka, and his 15 year old son, Awijit, greeted us. Januka, a warm and cheerful woman in her late 30s speaks a few words of English and Awijit, a lanky lad with his father’s looks, is quite fluent. Januka’s 80 year old mother (they call her “Ama” which means mother) also lives here but she doesn’t speak any English. She looked remarkably good for her age, draped in a tradional shawl and was very active, collecting and carrying big bundles of grass for the animals every day.

Looking down on Jabraj's house (on the left) as the sun goes down. You can see the front of the yard from here.

Looking down on Jabraj’s house (on the left) as the sun goes down. You can see the front of the yard from here.

 

The Neupani family house was a traditional style country house, made of stone with wooden beams. It was painted white on the top half, brown on the bottom, and the doors and shutters were wooden and basic. A small, orangey brown dirt yard in front of the house was lined with a low wall and beyond this were trees and terraced fields, looking down onto more houses below, and a view across to the other side of the mighty valley through the trees. A simple kitchen contained an open fireplace, gas stove and cabinets. A small outhouse contained the toilet and the main water supply on its roof – a water tank with hoses leading outside and to the outhouse. This tank is refilled three times a day from the mains. Wooden stairs from the yard led to the covered balcony of the first floor of the house, which had more rooms. The floors in the house had mats but no carpets, but the family had electricity, a TV, and even a computer which could get internet via a dial-up connection. Attached to the house was an open-fronted animal shelter in which two female oxen, an ox calf and a female goat were tied. As Jhabraj called the oxen “cows”, I’ll do the same. Below the shelter was a small patch of land where they grew vegetables.

The animal shelter

The animal shelter

Januka (Jabraj's wife) and her beloved goat kid!

Januka (Jabraj’s wife) and her beloved goat kid!

We hung out in the yard for a while. Januka brought us plates of fresh curd (from their cows of course) with dry beaten rice. With added sugar it was a tasty combination, a bit like cereal. A five-year old boy from a nearby house called Jeneet was hanging around. Sophie had told me about him (she has lived in the village for a few weeks now), and said he is quite a character. Today he was wearing a smart suit (already quite dirty) and looked deadly serious and angry, glaring at us. But, occasionally, someone would say or do something that would make him break into a big smile. His facial expressions were hilarious!

This is how Jeneet usually looks...

This is how Jeneet usually looks…

Or this....

Or this….

But occasionally you can make him laugh!

But occasionally you can make him laugh!

The Neupanis also had two goat kids, belonging to the momma goat in the animal shed. They were only three weeks old and were free to “roam” – but by this I mean sprinting around, jumping onto and off anything they could, and even doing acrobatic spins when they were in midair! The boy goat was always chasing his sister and trying to hump her, which seemed to annoy her. She understandably kept trying to get away from him but he never gave up. Only three weeks old and already incestuous sex is on his mind! They were brilliant fun to watch and constantly made us laugh, running all over the place, knocking over things, falling over and generally causing havok!

Naughty, naughty goats!

Naughty, naughty goats! Get off that mat!

Jhabraj took me on a walk through part of the village. Most of the houses were similar to his. We passed locals, said hello, and Jhabraj would chat to his neighbours. We walked past a small rice mill – (they had a posh colourful modern-style Nepali house because they were wealthy) and a few houses surrounded by thin terraced fields, then a little carpenters who were buzzing away, to a spot where we met a dirt road under a big bamboo tree. From here we could see up and down the big valley, a snowy peak and ridge at the top, and steep angular hills descending to the winding river far below. The hills were completely covered in terrace farming on ridiclously steep inclines. Some went right to the cliff edge. A man passed us carrying two big tree trunks on his back, going to the carpenters. They looked really heavy!

Hauling tree trunks

Hauling tree trunks

We walked back down to a house where there a group was hanging out in the yard. One lady was lying down, covered by a blanket and her leg was in plaster. A few days ago she’d been hit on the head by a tree being felled, she’d been badly concussed and broken her leg. She’d had to be taken by ambulance to Kathmandu where they treated her. They’d let her out but she still had pain along one side of her body. Some adults were peeling a big pile of garlic cloves. Jhabraj chatted to them and we were offered a cup of rakshi, Nepali homebrew millet whiskey. It wasn’t bad and we stayed for another cup. I could only smile and nod as Jhabraj explained who I was, not many of the villagers speak much English.

Hanging out with a village family. They are peeling garlic on the right, the injured woman is on the left.

Hanging out with a village family. They are peeling garlic on the right, the injured woman is on the left.

On the way back to the house we ran into an old man stooped over with a cane, who spoke concernedly to my host. Jhabraj explained this was the father of the man who’d carried the logs earlier. He was pleading with Jhabraj to have words with his son (who must be over 40), because he has no other family – his son is his sole supporter. Last night and all of today he hadn’t eaten anything, normally his son prepares food for him but he’d been off drinking and only made food for himself! Jhabraj told me the son is a bit of an alcoholic and they’ve had the same problem with this guy before. Jhabraj is a volunteer social worker for the community and is very well respected in the village – if there’s a problem people always come to him for advice or ask him to mediate for disputes. People even come from other villages because of his reputation for solving people problems. Jhabraj said he’d get together with some other village members and decide what to do about the son neglecting his father. All is not rosy in this peaceful village after all!

Sophie in her favourite spot to catch the evening sun!

Sophie in her favourite spot to catch the late afternoon sun!

We chilled out in the yard for the rest of the afternoon. Sophie took a shower whilst it was still warm. They don’t have a proper shower so it’s a case of standing under a hose spouting out cold water. The sun is hot up here every day so it’s good to wash whilst it’s light, the water warms up slightly in the tank, and you get a chance to warm up outside afterwards. As the sun started going down I went for a walk with my camera to the viewpoint we’d been to earlier. I then realized I’d brought my tripod but not the attachment for the camera to fix to it. Oops. So some handheld sunset shots would have to do. Every evening there is a great sunset here – everything is bathed in orange light and the hills are silhouetted on the other side of the valley, individual trees outlines can be seen lined along the ridge-tops.

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Back at the house we sat and ate dahl bhat followed by a cup of hot milk. Me and Jhabraj had cups of rakshi. He doesn’t make it himself but he takes millet from his fields to his neighbours’ house who have the necessary equipment to create it. It’s made by boiling the crop, leaving it to ferment, and then boiling it again. The evaporation is caught by a covering and then it drips down into a bowl to give the finished product. The strength varies depending on how watered down it is, Jhabraj’s batch was medium strength and quite tasty.

Every day there’s a bunch of chores to care for the animals. Jabrjaj’s mother brought two backloads of grass and leaves for their evening meal, and they get the same in the morning. During the day they get water mixed with salt and flour. Jhabraj milks the cows in the morning and evening, and I watched him at work. First he cleaned the udders with water and then used two hands, each milking a teat. Me and Sophie both had a try. It was easy for the first squirt but then there’s a tricky knack to teasing the milk out. Jhabraj was quite rough with it but we saw that was nothing compared to the calfs butting when she was released to get her mum’s milk! Jhabraj was like a machine with his milking. He said that each cow gives between 4-8 litres a day, and his family uses the milk for themselves. The goats eventually be used for meat or sold.

You want fresh milk for breakfast? Gotta get it yourself!

You want fresh milk for breakfast? Gotta get it yourself!

Once it got dark, Jhabraj put the goat kids and the calf into a room in the house, and shut the mother goat in a shed – to protect them from the wild leopards that roam the area. Believe it or not that’s why there’s no dogs in this village, Jhabraj says the leopards kill them! He told me about one time he and Januka were sitting at home, heard a commotion in the shelter, and ran to find a leopard fleeing – in just a few seconds it had torn the throat out of one of their goats! Now they play it safe at night when the predators are active.

As it got dark we stacked on our clothing layers, it gets really cold very quickly. I was glad of my new goosedown jacket! After dinner we sat chatting, and I decided to try some cannibas (or ganja as they call it). The previous tenant had smoked it all the time and had left a chillum (a small pipe) for smoking it. He’d also left some dried marujana plants upstairs. One of Jhabraj’s friends was over and he stripped the seeds off the stem – which pop if you leave them in the mix. I filled the chillum and smoked away. I’ve smoked joints with leaves in the past and from them, been quite stoned. I wasn’t getting any effect from this (normally it takes effect fairly quickly), so over twenty minutes I smoked the whole pipe. This turned out to be a big mistake!

A village house

A village house

We had an unexpected visitor. One of Jhabrajs’ colleagues from school (Jhabraj is an English teacher) arrived and immediately we could tell he was completely wasted. He could hardly walk but was very merry and quite twitchy. We all couldn’t stop laughing at him as he tried to converse with us animatedly – he kept apologizing and laughing about his drunken state. Jhabraj told us he sometimes gets like this as he has troubles at home, fortunately he’s a very happy drunk though. It was even more funny because Jhabraj said that in school he is a very serious man who normally doesn’t speak to anyone!

A common sight in the village, villagers lugging grass to feed their animals. They head out into the fields and countryside twice a day to gather this amount. Cows sure eat a lot!

A common sight in the village, villagers lugging grass to feed their animals. They head out into the fields and countryside twice a day to gather this amount. Cows sure eat a lot!

Whilst we were being chatted to by this guy (it wasn’t a conversation!) the ganja started to kick in, mildly at first and then really strong. Everything started spinning! I had space cakes (hash cakes) once in Amsterdam and recognized the signs. I was feeling really stoned and after politely humouring the drunk guy eventually I couldn’t take the sensory input any more and was feeling sick, so I excused myself and went to lie down hoping it would pass after an hour or two, I felt awful. Sophie said later she knew I was really stoned because I was acting so seriously towards the completely absurd drunk guy – in contrast everyone else couldn’t stop laughing at him!

I managed to get into bed and lay there as the world spun around me and my thoughts went all over the place. I’d had way too much and started to get the classic symptoms of a bad trip – paranoia, the shakes, visions and thoughts which start off fine, but somehow always twist into something nasty, and an overwhelming nausea which I was fighting hard to control and not think about (not easy when you’re tripping!). I managed to get up and ask Jhabraj for a bucket in case I was sick. Time slowed to a standstill and I just wanted it to stop or get to the “good” part. When I’d had space cakes the first few hours had been awful, and after that it mellowed out and it was good for a bit. Unfortunately that only happened for a few brief periods this time around, the rest was pretty nasty. I put my iPod on in the hopes that the music would sooth me a bit. It helped a little but only the calmer songs. The nausea started to fade though, and eventually I fell asleep. I’d been tripping for about 4 hours! Next time I’ll have to treat raw ganja with the respect it deserves and know my limits!

Sunset over the terraced fields

Sunset over the terraced fields

Pokhara’s Dasain Sheep Market

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Day 51 – Location: Pokhara, Nepal.

20/10/12

My night was rudely disturbed by the sound of cracking plastic in my room. I looked around in the dark wondering if there was an intruder. After turning my torch on I couldn’t see anything, so I went back to bed. Soon after I heard the noise again, it had to be coming from in here! My bin had plastic bottles inside but there was nothing else. I assumed it had to be out the window and again tried to get to sleep. The third time I was disturbed I scoured around and then saw the bin moving. A thin rat was trying to scrabble up out of the bin, he was trapped inside! He must have been playing dead when I was hunting around. I felt a bit sorry for him but also a bit revolted to have had a rat running around in my bedroom. I wrapped my hand in some clothes in case he bit, and put the bin outside my room door. Either he’d eventually escape or the staff would get him in the morning. I didn’t find out which, the bin was emptied when I got up.

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I spent the day researching my next plans and working on the diary, sitting in Lakeside’s restaurants. I fell asleep in my hotel room around 5pm and woke up in the late evening for dinner. I was still knackered after the trekking and my legs were aching. I’d been waiting to hear from Anja, who had invited me to stay at her host family’s place in Besisahar tomorrow, but she got in touch to say that over the next few days they couldn’t because of the Dasain festivities, but I could come after that. I was left wondering what to do, I’d already done most of the Pokhara sights and my visa was going to run out soon. I decided to sleep on it.

Day 52

21/10/12

After a morning organizing I called Anja with questions about visiting her, and looked into buses back to Kathmandu. Because of the festival there were hardly any going. During Dasain, about 80% of Nepal’s population swarm back to their families and home towns to celebrate, meaning the transport is all fully booked and completely rammed. I decided to extend my visa and see what happened. Unfortunately the office closes by 1pm so I was too late today. Shiba called to say he was coming to Pokhara today if I wanted to meet up. After lunch I took a taxi to the north of Pokhara to meet him.

As we approached we hit a traffic jam. There were lots of people by the road too, and then we started seeing the sheep. It seemed the sheep (though they could be sheep, it’s hard to tell) had now been moved from the mountains down to the city and were herded by the roadside. Many people were tugging along sheep with rope tied around their horns, but the sheep didn’t want to go. Many were tugging, running ad generally it was chaos with people running out of the way of bucking sheep and traffic weaving between it all.

A very reluctant sheep is dragged along. In the morning he'll be dead!

A very reluctant sheep is dragged along. In the morning he’ll be dead!

We eventually reached a main junction and luckily I spotted Shiba at the side of the road, or finding him would have been nigh impossible. His family was with him. I greeted them and we went through throngs of people to an outdoor market area filled with temporary sheep pens and packed with people. People were buying sheep here and around the pens were vendors selling everything from kitchenware to clothes.

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We browsed around the area, with Shiba and his wife buying or haggling for goods from time to time. It was very colourful. At the end of the area was a small funfair with very unsafe looking rides, including a small Ferris wheel which rocked around at alarming speed with no protection, and a big bar at the top which adults had to duck under for fear of decapitation. Food trolleys were wheeled around and ice cream vendors with bicycles wandered the rows. People clustered around vendors haggling and examining wares.

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Choose your weapon. The big blades are kukuris, used for chopping the heads off the unfortunate sacrifices.

Choose your weapon. The big blades are kukuris, used for chopping the heads off the unfortunate sacrifices.

We walked around trying to find a restaurant but they were all packed. We eventually found a chow mein place and sat in the back, at a table clearly shoved into someone’s bedroom.

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A very unfortunate sheep which was loaded like this into the boot of a car. If that wasn't bad enough, another one trussed up in the same way was loaded on top of it! Really harsh!

A very unfortunate sheep which was unceremoniously loaded like this into the boot of a car. If that wasn’t bad enough, another one trussed up in the same way was loaded on top of it! Really harsh!

Next Shiba took me a short walk to show me a nearby temple, which is an old and famous one. A guy approached and started to tell me about it and pointed to blood on the floor in a building below, where earlier in the day they’d been sacrificing sheep.

The sacrifice area awash with blood.

The sacrifice area awash with blood.

He then offered me his services as a guide and then implied I should pay him for the tiny bits of information he’d already given me, which I hadn’t even asked for. I refused pointing this out and that I was already walking around with a local! The guilt trip tactics of these people annoy me. Down the temple steps Shiba gave a holy man (Baba) some money. I did the same and asked for a photo, which he agreed to. After saying how great the UK and the queen was he jokingly asked for more money, and we laughed back at him. Shiba pointed out how I seem to attract the sweet talkers who like to try and extract money from me with their friendly ways!

Cheeky baba. You can see his begging can on the left, it's normal to see them walking around carrying these.

Cheeky baba. You can see his begging can on the left, it’s normal to see them walking around carrying these.

Down the steps we found a closed basket rammed full of live pigeons. I asked Shiba if they were for sacrificing but he said no, they were just for the temple.

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We walked back through the side streets towards the market, passing some expensive looking (by Nepali standards) houses and a kid who seemed to think riding with a flat tyre was a good idea. In the distance the Fishtail was clear and looked magnificent poking up above the city. We passed a man who was holding a headless sheep body, shaving it in a bucket of hot water (which loosens the pelt). Presumably an early sacrifice.

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We returned to the market area and did some more browsing, and then I went to get a taxi back as it was dark, and said my goodbyes. It had been cool to see the markets and so many people.

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Tikka dyes

The Ferris wheel of death.

The Ferris wheel of death! Tall people have to duck to avoid the bar at the top!

Back in Lakeside the Swiss were away visiting a local family that Nick knew, so I went alone and found a restaurant called Once Upon a Time which turned out to have the fasted wi-fi connection I’d found in Nepal! I took the opportunity to do a photo blog update (which was now over 3 weeks behind thanks to the lack of internet speed), and saw bits of the film Everest, which looks quite good, I’ll have to catch it another time.

A typical Nepali barber shop

A typical Nepali barber shop