auld lang syne

I didn't realize how out of shape I was , until I treked to the top of Sarangkot, the famous hill by Phewa Lake, yes the very one from which my jump-off that same morning ended in the demise (or fertilization?) of many a villagers' crops.
In the morning I was carted up in a jeep along a paved, winding road, and the view of the Annapurna range was so ball numbing that I got it in my fancy little head I was going to hike up there again in the afternoon and catch the sunset. So I made a housecall to Chris, the kind local who picked me up the first day from the Pokhara bus station. His family owns a restaurant in Lakeside and he's had a lot of free time lately to loaft around it thanks to the Maoists. He wrote his last exam for his commerce degree ten months ago and still hasn't received his diploma because of striking teacher unions, student unions, janitor unions, and just about any other Association of Nonsense you can imagine. As the government sits on its gold-plated pillow cushions getting peeled grapes fed up its every crevice, thousands of students are in graduation limbo, unable to work without a certificate, and unable to continue studies for the same reason.

But I digress. So Chris has kindly offered to accompany me on my trek next week as well, but first we were warming up with the measly Sarangkot, at a mere 1500m compared to the surrounding 8000m peaks (did you know Nepal holds a virtual monopoly on the world's highest peaks with 8 of the 10 within its borders?). Instead of walking up the freshly paved road, he elected to take me up a shortcut. Translate: a 45 degree steep "stairway", each step being a uneven rockslab about 10 inches in height. Now I think I have the shortest legs humanly possible next to a war amp (yes, lightning strike me now.) and I was literally left trailing in the dust in the wake of Chris'(at over 6 feet tall) freakish antelope gams. I made us stop fifty times, each time pretending to tie another lace on my elasticized running shoes and snapping more photos than was necessary at every clearing. I was like a fat kid with asthma running in a marathon without his puffer. Only I didn't have asthma, nor was I running a marathon. I was just a fat kid.

When we finally got to the top, within the standard 2.5 hours thank you very much, the clouds had shifted over to strategically cover all of the mountains as well as the sunset. Yipee.
Oh yea, and we planned to take the bus back down, but the busses decided not to run that day- I told you the country was random- so we stood at the top with the daunting question of how to get down. It was about 5pm and the sun would set in half an hour. If we went back the way we came, we'd be stuck in the pitchblack depth of the forests when the sun set. If we took the main road, we'd have some stars and city lights to guide us but the slowly winding road would take an hour more than the shortcut. Finally with no other option, we walked down the road, and I just about collapsed into my wooden crate that night.

In the interest of building some more stamina for my trek in a few days, I made Santosh trek with me up another hill the next day. This was on the west side of Pokhara, with the famous World Peace Pagoda on top. This was a shorter climb at 1.5 hours but with no less of a breathtaking view from the top. The temple was aptly named. I've never felt so at peace at any meditative site. It was like a washing over of serenity, with the sun shining on the stark white pagoda, a great golden Buddha glistened at the top of a flight of snow white stairs. Sigh. Pictures to follow.

Yesterday was yet another holiday for the Nepali. A day of family akin to the celebration of Chinese New Year. At 5am, Sabina, Sujeena, one of the older kids, and I crawled out of bed and hiked up to Sarangkot to catch the sunrise. But of course, the clouds covered both the sun and the mountains with such zeal, I couldn't even be upset. I did snap a few shots of the mountains during fleeting periods of visibility. I still get awe-struck everytime I look up at the Annapurnas. I absolutely can't get over their grandiose splendour, and the clouds cover them so well every day that when the sky is clear I gasp and immediately scramble to get my zoom lens. They are just that awesome. Anyway, when we walked past a few houses we saw a flock of kids scrambling up the hill with ten of fifteen chickens in tow. Word on the hill was a truck driver carrying a load of 350 chickens plunged off the side of the road last night and landed in the midst of dense forest below. The neighbourhood was giddy with glee, each household sending its most nimble boys to scavenge lost chickens. Um, what about the truck driver? I asked, horrified. Oh, they found him hanging on a tree and took him to the hospital. Lol, well then feast on.

Later in the morning we were all invited to Sabina's aunt's house down the street for lunch and afternoon tea. They warned me her aunt was a good cook, but I was not prepared for the foodgasm that awaited me. I know that Nepali cuisine is known for lacking in variety and imagination, but this would have put a smile on even the most unforgiving food critics. We feasted on the finest Dhal Bhat I've ever had, vegetable curry, deep fried boiled eggs, spinach puree, and amazing tomato chutney I now have the recipe for, and gasp, mutton and chicken! HUMMANA HUMMANA It was the first time I've had meat since I left Canada and after the fourth helping I was getting ready for angioplasty. After lunch, Sabina took me to the hairdresser as I needed a trim. It cost 40 rupees. The exchange rate is 75 rupees to the dollar. I was in tress-shearing heaven. I recalle the last time I paid for a cut in San Fran, and it had cost me a hundred dollars, more than the average monthly salary of a Nepali, and I don't even go to salons regularly. That was one of the first times after cutting my own hair for the last seven years. Talk about purchasing power parity.

In other news, I have achieved a strange sort of celebrity status, D-list to be sure, in the community and beyond. A troop of neighbourhood boys somehow found out my name and everytime I walk down the street or play tag with the kids I'm met with my own personal cheer squad of twenty-something year old Nepali boys. Santosh told me it is because they are enraptured by my "Mongol face". It was annoying at first but now is just comical. lol mongol face, what?

It's New Years Eve here and I'm taking the kids to Phewa Lake tonight for a street festival by Lakeside. I will now wish a happy new year, onto you and your kin, and share the most hauntingly beautiful rendition of Auld Lang Syne. Mad SATC braps for this one. Enjoy.

xo