riding on an elephant
baby cuteness!
Tharu huts made of mud and buffalo dung
bridge I lunged off during a momentary lapse of sanity
sunset view on plane to singapore, namaskar Nepal!
Showing posts with label Nepal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nepal. Show all posts
1.21.2009
Chitwan wildlife
riding on an elephant
baby cuteness!
Tharu huts made of mud and buffalo dung
bridge I lunged off during a momentary lapse of sanity
sunset view on plane to singapore, namaskar Nepal!
1.18.2009
craptacular
so my ipod busted.
This has been like my worst nightmare since I started changing computers and realizing that if it busted, i'd lose 30 gigs or 5000+ songs aka my life and blood.
and since I'm so fantastically poor at the moment I will just have to resort to subsistence via internet. Thank god for youtube playlists. And if Santa decides to do a victory lap I'd like an ipod touch. With all my songs back. Preeze and thank you.
I've been feeling this lately
The Belin brothers are sickk. They got their name Living Things from a 60s poster that said "War is not healthy for children and other living things".
I'm flying to Sichuan tonight with momagao, apparently its actually winter there. Shucks I was just getting used to tank tops and short shorts. Chinese New Year is also sposed to be a big deal so I'm quite curious to see what the whole shebang is about. Including the "spending time with family" part. The family and relative deprived I.
Alright some more photos for ya soul
the obligatory spread eagle jump
Phew, that was a sunrise and a half. Poon Hill is a jewel, and trekking up at the ungodly hour OF 4:30AM was worth it.
xo
This has been like my worst nightmare since I started changing computers and realizing that if it busted, i'd lose 30 gigs or 5000+ songs aka my life and blood.
and since I'm so fantastically poor at the moment I will just have to resort to subsistence via internet. Thank god for youtube playlists. And if Santa decides to do a victory lap I'd like an ipod touch. With all my songs back. Preeze and thank you.
I've been feeling this lately
The Belin brothers are sickk. They got their name Living Things from a 60s poster that said "War is not healthy for children and other living things".
I'm flying to Sichuan tonight with momagao, apparently its actually winter there. Shucks I was just getting used to tank tops and short shorts. Chinese New Year is also sposed to be a big deal so I'm quite curious to see what the whole shebang is about. Including the "spending time with family" part. The family and relative deprived I.
Alright some more photos for ya soul
the obligatory spread eagle jump
Phew, that was a sunrise and a half. Poon Hill is a jewel, and trekking up at the ungodly hour OF 4:30AM was worth it.
xo
1.16.2009
you me and the bourgeoisie
Stop the press. I chewed gum in Singapore. Whoops, totally forgot where I was, so don't tell on me please.
After four days on the island I'm convinced Singapore is the ideal society. I mean, the city is aesthetically perfect. Even chinatown smells good. For a city known for its urban sprawl it has an astounding array of nature reserves and parks all manicured to a tee. They've thought of everything, no joke. There is a massive food court in every mall. There is a giant mall to your immediate left, and right. Its like you don't go shopping, shopping comes to you. The outdoor parks have free outdoor elliptical machines. What? There is no traffic on roads because pedestrians cross on over and underpasses. You can't even delay train traffic if you wanted to jump on the tracks. They've encased the platform in a glass cage. There are no homeless people, unless they're hiding in a tree shrub on me, cus I've been looking. It's also the only country I've been in outside of Canada where such a diverse group of inhabitants live in evident respect and harmony. Perhaps I've only brushed the surface and there exist many layered complexities, as with any country. But I.am.impressed. especially after just arriving from the polar opposite nation in wealth, standard of living, and human rights.
On the topic of societal juxtaposition. My mind has been on overload the last while, looking back in retrospect on my time in Nepal. Several people have asked me for a takeaway, and truthfully I was looking for some peace and familiarity in surrounding to be able to place my perspective again. I wrote the first couple of days at Chetana Children's Center that I felt almost a guilt, a self-serving fulfillment, in being there. At night on my hard wooden crate, I dreamed of my warm bed in Canada, the laptop with wi-fi I craved. It was all mine. A few months and a cross-continental flight away. But I was sobered by the transient nature of the kids' experiences with volunteers. We come and go, but what are we REALLY doing for these kids? Are we really helping them or are we just buying goodwill with a two thousand dollar plane ticket? I suspected the latter, I wanted to 'make a difference', but it was the feeling of self-righteousness that I sought in the reflection of the apathetic western world. Some of you wrote that its better that some good is done than no good done at all, and I'd have to agree. But at the end of my stay, just as I suspected, I learned more from the kids than they ever learned from me.
I looked at them and knew that some would never see the world beyond the peaks of the Himalayas. They will be happy within the safety of what they know, but will never brave to leap beyond the progress of their nation. Change only happens with perspective and this doesn't doesn't come easy. My aim at the begining of this journey was to gain perspective, a vague goal, but one that left retrospective clarity open to interpretation. Nepal is a country strife with political and socio-economic problems that locals don't think will dissipate overnight. With a hierarchical caste-system and failing government, promise of reform is a change noone can belive in. I compare the lack of basic rights to life in Canada, where everyone regardless of creed or status in life has access to free education and indirectly, an opportunity at advancement. CCC, as it turns out, is not an orphanage in the strictest sense of the word. Ramji, Sabina's late husband wanted to create a center of opportunity for promising children. A secondary school principal himself, he was moved by the sight of a child labouring in a restaurant one night. He handpicked each of the current six children based on aptitude and poverty. I did notice on the first day how smart they all were.
I worry that Sabina will close the center, as she has often thought about after her husband's death. There are too many expenses and not enough money. I worry that the kids will have to forego university after they graduate CCC because their families can't afford it. I told them that I will do everything I can to be an enabler when the time comes. I realize that my comforts and familiarities are not rights, but gifts. That somehow, against the odds, I made it out of the millions to land in the lap of luxury while members of my own family live in poverty in rural China. What does this mean to me? Among many things, that opening one's eyes to the world through travel is not only a privilege but a duty. To live in blissful ignorance and sheltered comfort is sacreligious when there are those who can't afford to dream up a plane ticket, even if they get passed the first barrier of fantasizing basic human rights.
Travelling makes you realize how interconnected everything is. Nation to nation, nation to human, human to environment. I know most eyes are on the Gaza strip right now. As the Palestinian death toll tops 1000, you think of what tears apart this connection in our social fabric. Its fragility shows in racial tensions, blame games, bloodshed and impasse. Does Marius Grinius deserve criticism for our lone vote on the UN Human Rights council? Was it a decision of "sound judgement"? Based on the wording of the motion's language, maybe. Was it an act of "integrity"? It's harder to say. A ride-or-die friend emailed me two days ago with an epiphanous view of the business world today.
First day of business school
Prof: what does the number 50 billion mean to you now in this terrifying state that the world economy is in? You all read the news, what was 50 billion?
Me: err the worst ever opening guess on the Price is Right?
Prof: No, this is very serious given current economic blah blah blah don't make light of it blah blah Madoff scandal blahhhhh
I also managed to infuriate Sarah when I suggested it was mildly hilarious that Bank of America can fire 35 000 people, that's a fucking municipality of people, a village. She didn't see eye to eye with me...mostly because she is short I guess.
All in all, a lot of comparatively rich people lost money, not a real tragedy, it's not like everyone in Africa suddenly died from fucking Spanish Flu. That would be a tragedy, and semi-ironic. The only downside is it's hitting ppl below poverty lines in developing nations now.
Epiphany? I think so...cash moneys just ain't that important in the grand scheme of things. It's a poisonous mind set that business school implants.
That's some true mind-reading, NPC, ride-or-die, no-holds-barred insight right there. Mad props.
Anyway, this talk about our ignorance of the social fabric's fragility holds special interest to me in the context of art. I, along with the rest of the art world, have been obsessing over Chinese contemporary artists for a long time now. They have sprouted up post-repression style and blossomed to international acclaim. The beauty of these artists lies in that their subject matter is so fresh from recent liberation and social conscience weaves heavily throughout the canvas. One in particular that I've noticed is Deng Cheng Wen and his Blind Walking series, as seen below.
His work highlights ideas critical to understanding modern China. That urbanization and westernization is leading traditional culture down the path of destruction, and that the young generation is oblivious to the adverse effects of these detrimental changes. These pieces illustrate the paradoxical nature of China's socio-environment. The country maintains that progress is only possible if there is stability, and stability is achieved when there is limited dissent. However the collective mentality of people moving in the same direction can be negative and multiplies the effect of obliviousness the individual has to his surroundings, leading to the age-old idiom , "the blind leading the blind". The great thinkers of our time have said that our narrow vision can only be restored by removing our socio-cultural blinders, and it is up to this generation to do so.
See more of his work here:
http://www.hongart.net/?option=art&collectionid=27
After four days on the island I'm convinced Singapore is the ideal society. I mean, the city is aesthetically perfect. Even chinatown smells good. For a city known for its urban sprawl it has an astounding array of nature reserves and parks all manicured to a tee. They've thought of everything, no joke. There is a massive food court in every mall. There is a giant mall to your immediate left, and right. Its like you don't go shopping, shopping comes to you. The outdoor parks have free outdoor elliptical machines. What? There is no traffic on roads because pedestrians cross on over and underpasses. You can't even delay train traffic if you wanted to jump on the tracks. They've encased the platform in a glass cage. There are no homeless people, unless they're hiding in a tree shrub on me, cus I've been looking. It's also the only country I've been in outside of Canada where such a diverse group of inhabitants live in evident respect and harmony. Perhaps I've only brushed the surface and there exist many layered complexities, as with any country. But I.am.impressed. especially after just arriving from the polar opposite nation in wealth, standard of living, and human rights.
On the topic of societal juxtaposition. My mind has been on overload the last while, looking back in retrospect on my time in Nepal. Several people have asked me for a takeaway, and truthfully I was looking for some peace and familiarity in surrounding to be able to place my perspective again. I wrote the first couple of days at Chetana Children's Center that I felt almost a guilt, a self-serving fulfillment, in being there. At night on my hard wooden crate, I dreamed of my warm bed in Canada, the laptop with wi-fi I craved. It was all mine. A few months and a cross-continental flight away. But I was sobered by the transient nature of the kids' experiences with volunteers. We come and go, but what are we REALLY doing for these kids? Are we really helping them or are we just buying goodwill with a two thousand dollar plane ticket? I suspected the latter, I wanted to 'make a difference', but it was the feeling of self-righteousness that I sought in the reflection of the apathetic western world. Some of you wrote that its better that some good is done than no good done at all, and I'd have to agree. But at the end of my stay, just as I suspected, I learned more from the kids than they ever learned from me.
I looked at them and knew that some would never see the world beyond the peaks of the Himalayas. They will be happy within the safety of what they know, but will never brave to leap beyond the progress of their nation. Change only happens with perspective and this doesn't doesn't come easy. My aim at the begining of this journey was to gain perspective, a vague goal, but one that left retrospective clarity open to interpretation. Nepal is a country strife with political and socio-economic problems that locals don't think will dissipate overnight. With a hierarchical caste-system and failing government, promise of reform is a change noone can belive in. I compare the lack of basic rights to life in Canada, where everyone regardless of creed or status in life has access to free education and indirectly, an opportunity at advancement. CCC, as it turns out, is not an orphanage in the strictest sense of the word. Ramji, Sabina's late husband wanted to create a center of opportunity for promising children. A secondary school principal himself, he was moved by the sight of a child labouring in a restaurant one night. He handpicked each of the current six children based on aptitude and poverty. I did notice on the first day how smart they all were.
I worry that Sabina will close the center, as she has often thought about after her husband's death. There are too many expenses and not enough money. I worry that the kids will have to forego university after they graduate CCC because their families can't afford it. I told them that I will do everything I can to be an enabler when the time comes. I realize that my comforts and familiarities are not rights, but gifts. That somehow, against the odds, I made it out of the millions to land in the lap of luxury while members of my own family live in poverty in rural China. What does this mean to me? Among many things, that opening one's eyes to the world through travel is not only a privilege but a duty. To live in blissful ignorance and sheltered comfort is sacreligious when there are those who can't afford to dream up a plane ticket, even if they get passed the first barrier of fantasizing basic human rights.
Travelling makes you realize how interconnected everything is. Nation to nation, nation to human, human to environment. I know most eyes are on the Gaza strip right now. As the Palestinian death toll tops 1000, you think of what tears apart this connection in our social fabric. Its fragility shows in racial tensions, blame games, bloodshed and impasse. Does Marius Grinius deserve criticism for our lone vote on the UN Human Rights council? Was it a decision of "sound judgement"? Based on the wording of the motion's language, maybe. Was it an act of "integrity"? It's harder to say. A ride-or-die friend emailed me two days ago with an epiphanous view of the business world today.
First day of business school
Prof: what does the number 50 billion mean to you now in this terrifying state that the world economy is in? You all read the news, what was 50 billion?
Me: err the worst ever opening guess on the Price is Right?
Prof: No, this is very serious given current economic blah blah blah don't make light of it blah blah Madoff scandal blahhhhh
I also managed to infuriate Sarah when I suggested it was mildly hilarious that Bank of America can fire 35 000 people, that's a fucking municipality of people, a village. She didn't see eye to eye with me...mostly because she is short I guess.
All in all, a lot of comparatively rich people lost money, not a real tragedy, it's not like everyone in Africa suddenly died from fucking Spanish Flu. That would be a tragedy, and semi-ironic. The only downside is it's hitting ppl below poverty lines in developing nations now.
Epiphany? I think so...cash moneys just ain't that important in the grand scheme of things. It's a poisonous mind set that business school implants.
That's some true mind-reading, NPC, ride-or-die, no-holds-barred insight right there. Mad props.
Anyway, this talk about our ignorance of the social fabric's fragility holds special interest to me in the context of art. I, along with the rest of the art world, have been obsessing over Chinese contemporary artists for a long time now. They have sprouted up post-repression style and blossomed to international acclaim. The beauty of these artists lies in that their subject matter is so fresh from recent liberation and social conscience weaves heavily throughout the canvas. One in particular that I've noticed is Deng Cheng Wen and his Blind Walking series, as seen below.
His work highlights ideas critical to understanding modern China. That urbanization and westernization is leading traditional culture down the path of destruction, and that the young generation is oblivious to the adverse effects of these detrimental changes. These pieces illustrate the paradoxical nature of China's socio-environment. The country maintains that progress is only possible if there is stability, and stability is achieved when there is limited dissent. However the collective mentality of people moving in the same direction can be negative and multiplies the effect of obliviousness the individual has to his surroundings, leading to the age-old idiom , "the blind leading the blind". The great thinkers of our time have said that our narrow vision can only be restored by removing our socio-cultural blinders, and it is up to this generation to do so.
See more of his work here:
http://www.hongart.net/?option=art&collectionid=27
1.14.2009
1.13.2009
meditative
the stupendously beautiful World Peace Pagoda I described a couple of weeks ago
you've probably noticed an annoying black shadow in all of my pictures, I'm trying to find the culprit on the lens but am still unsuccesful :(
1.12.2009
fresh laundry et al
I'm not exactly the poster child for stringent personal hygiene, being known to rely on antibacterial Fabreeze to air out my sheets in college because I a) was too lazy to walk down three flights of stairs to the coin slot washing machines and b) could think of a better use for three dollars.
But even I found my lack of hygiene over the last month if not disturbing, slightly err disconcerting. I brought some ratty clothes knowing I was going to be bumming around, and they saw some heavy rotations. And just because I know you, dear reader, seek juicy uncensored front-line detail, the orphanage had no hot water and I did not take a shower proper for two weeks save for select body parts that I braved the cold water for periodically. You laugh now in appalled admiration but honest to god that's the Nepali way! I couldn't chince out if I wanted to live like a local now could I.
Surprisingly when I left the city and went trekking in remote mountain villages, every guest house had solar operated hot showers. Soap and shampoo were my gods and I showered religiously. I learned never to take hot water for granted again.
I am now in Singapore! Touched down last night and spent some quality time with the famalam. Its been six months since I last saw them and you could say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I think they'd sufficiently forgotten all my flaws in the meantime and for now I'm like the prodigal son who's come home. I LOVE BEING AT HOME. I havn't felt so relaxed in god knows how long. Being alone for so long now, I'm always looking over my shoulder, but at home its like someone's always got your back. My mom offered to do my laundry. HUMANA HUMANA. And I got a mindboggling variety of home cooked food for dinner. Actually, I just raided their fridge and took a bite of everything as per my rat nibbler style. Caught in the act of gluttony with my filthy clothes I looked like one of those malnourished kids in a third world infomercial, minus the cuteness.
Since I last left you, SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED.
Chitwan was a great spur of moment decision. To think I was almost going to miss it. I took an eight hour bus the morning after my last post and arrived at the bus terminal exhausted from being cramped in a seat pushed so far into the front window I had to hug my legs the entire ride. When we got there, all the tourists got MAULED, I mean STAMPEDED on by taxi drivers pushing their affiliated resort fliers into our faces. I can usually handle high level stress but that was too much. I eventually learned the trick is to say you already booked a hotel, and then they couldn't scatter away faster. I eventually made it to town, and was set on shoestringing by the next two days after having done all my research. But the stress got to me and my legs still ached from the trek, and when a hotel manager presented me with a packaged tour that promised to take care of everything, I decided to screw it all and splurge. It ended up being a great time, and not worrying and planning was a bonus. I went on a canoe ride, a jungle walk, an ELEPHANT SAFARI, watched Tharu culture dancing, and got VIP treatment as one of like two guests at this huge, gorgeous resort since its low season.
The only negative thing I can think of the entire trip was my walking guide, who I swear got more and more crazy as the tour went on. It started with him repeatedly asking me questions about the exact date of my supposed impending wedding and what nationality the groom will be. Mind you there's nothing wrong with that, as Nepali, along with many other cultures, are very concerned with marriage. Almost everyone I've met has asked me for my take on marriage in some form. But he engaged in quite obnoxious discussion about the virtues of a male dominated society and Nepal's superiority to the developed world. Repeating each point like a broken record. I started suspecting something may be off when he would ask the same question for the fifth time when my answers were pretty clear, oh and when he started walking funny and talking to himself in Nepali, shaking his head and waving his hands in a way that screamed craaaaazy. I tried to get out of the jungle as fast as possible.
The elephant safari was incredible though. Not exactly a comfortable ride, but it was awesome to see so far into the jungle. We saw the endangered rhino, spotted dear, peacocks, and crocodiles, all in the most natural habitat I've ever seen. The national park almost looked untouched by man. The land on all four sides was vast expanses of flat plains. After being holed up in the shadow of the highest mountains in the world, this was quite refreshing. I'm amazed in a country as small as Nepal that the terrain can differ so drastically from alpine to tropical in little more than 150 km distance. Pictures to follow.
On friday I returned to Kathmandu, and went to the office of The Last Resort, a company that specializes in bungee jumping and canyoning in Nepal. I was experiencing a serious lapse of sanity, and wanted to pay them 100 Euro to jump off a bridge 200m high and canyon- something I didn't even know the meaning of. The next morning I got up at 5 to be bussed three hours away to a resort close to the Tibet border. The first thing we all had to do was walk across the bridge of death to the resort itself. That is where I realized the severity of the situation. You, want me, to jump off this, into... that. All I could see was mountain, canyon, cliff, jagged rocks, and roaring rivers crashing into them. I also realized how high two hundred meters was. This is no funny business, at the world's third highest bungee jump. I died a little right there.
But first was canyoning. There were five of us, three Aussies, an English girl and me. There was a Nepali man at first too, but he proceeded to drop out from cold feet before we got to the first waterfall. Always a good sign. We put on wet suits and climbed up to our first waterfall. I still had no idea what we were doing. Two others had canyoned before, and the other two I think at least knew what abseiling was. But not I. English as a second language people, I didn't get where I am today learning extreme sport vocabulary in school. When I realized that what we were doing was actually WALKING down seven waterfalls at a 90 degree angle to the cliff face, there was no turning back. We were harnessed and basically let ourselves down the waterfall by releasing rope in much the same way as lowering oneself from rock climbing, except you're getting a nice cold shower too. It was slippery and more work than I imagined, especially on the last waterfall that was 45m high. But it was great fun and exercise to boot.
The highlight of the day would have to be the bungee jump. Everyone in the world needs to do a bungee jump. It was the single most face ripping brain exploding thing in my life so far. I wisely chose to eat lunch right before the jump, that was a sarcastic statement, but don't worry there is no fertilzation story to be told here. There were only two of us doing the bungee jump and our fellow canyoners patted us on the back and watched from afar in admiration of our blind fearlessness. More like blind stupidity. They closed off the bridge and we waited with an eerie silence in the canyon. But of course every time I snapped out of my delirious state I couldn't ignore the perilous depth below and the rocks that I imagined chopping my flesh and offering it to the eagles. They say sky diving is a million times easier because the sea of clouds looks almost surreal and you have less apprehension about jumping out. But there's no way I could ignore the natural weapons of human destruction all around me. I was so out of it I didn't even notice the guy strapping and harnessing my ankles. They could have led me out on the platform with nothing on and I wouldn't have known any better. They instructed me to propell myself off the platform and do a swimmer's dive head first into the mountain air. I'm like dude I'm afraid of diving into a 10 ft pool. You will not be getting any artistry from me.
After two failed attempts to jump, I realized I had no choice. There was no way I could walk off this bridge as that would be against my principles. I am no coward! So I feebly stretched out my arms and. Dropped. I am not going to describe what the next few seconds were like, because there are simply no words. You'll just have to try it and see for yourself. I'll just say that if you are like me and have had the somewhat sadistic and self-deprecating curiosity of what jumping off a 50 storey building is like, you will be quite satisfied. Minus the inconvenient death part. I was so shook it still plays in my mind sometimes. My only regret is my pansy jump. They told me what I did was a bungee fall, and that's quite embarassing. lol if there is a next time, I promise to do a Michael Phelps worthy flip and dive fo sho.
Tomorrow I will begin a major catchup series of photos from Nepal, followed by Singapore, which I'm really quite fascinated by.
But even I found my lack of hygiene over the last month if not disturbing, slightly err disconcerting. I brought some ratty clothes knowing I was going to be bumming around, and they saw some heavy rotations. And just because I know you, dear reader, seek juicy uncensored front-line detail, the orphanage had no hot water and I did not take a shower proper for two weeks save for select body parts that I braved the cold water for periodically. You laugh now in appalled admiration but honest to god that's the Nepali way! I couldn't chince out if I wanted to live like a local now could I.
Surprisingly when I left the city and went trekking in remote mountain villages, every guest house had solar operated hot showers. Soap and shampoo were my gods and I showered religiously. I learned never to take hot water for granted again.
I am now in Singapore! Touched down last night and spent some quality time with the famalam. Its been six months since I last saw them and you could say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I think they'd sufficiently forgotten all my flaws in the meantime and for now I'm like the prodigal son who's come home. I LOVE BEING AT HOME. I havn't felt so relaxed in god knows how long. Being alone for so long now, I'm always looking over my shoulder, but at home its like someone's always got your back. My mom offered to do my laundry. HUMANA HUMANA. And I got a mindboggling variety of home cooked food for dinner. Actually, I just raided their fridge and took a bite of everything as per my rat nibbler style. Caught in the act of gluttony with my filthy clothes I looked like one of those malnourished kids in a third world infomercial, minus the cuteness.
Since I last left you, SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED.
Chitwan was a great spur of moment decision. To think I was almost going to miss it. I took an eight hour bus the morning after my last post and arrived at the bus terminal exhausted from being cramped in a seat pushed so far into the front window I had to hug my legs the entire ride. When we got there, all the tourists got MAULED, I mean STAMPEDED on by taxi drivers pushing their affiliated resort fliers into our faces. I can usually handle high level stress but that was too much. I eventually learned the trick is to say you already booked a hotel, and then they couldn't scatter away faster. I eventually made it to town, and was set on shoestringing by the next two days after having done all my research. But the stress got to me and my legs still ached from the trek, and when a hotel manager presented me with a packaged tour that promised to take care of everything, I decided to screw it all and splurge. It ended up being a great time, and not worrying and planning was a bonus. I went on a canoe ride, a jungle walk, an ELEPHANT SAFARI, watched Tharu culture dancing, and got VIP treatment as one of like two guests at this huge, gorgeous resort since its low season.
The only negative thing I can think of the entire trip was my walking guide, who I swear got more and more crazy as the tour went on. It started with him repeatedly asking me questions about the exact date of my supposed impending wedding and what nationality the groom will be. Mind you there's nothing wrong with that, as Nepali, along with many other cultures, are very concerned with marriage. Almost everyone I've met has asked me for my take on marriage in some form. But he engaged in quite obnoxious discussion about the virtues of a male dominated society and Nepal's superiority to the developed world. Repeating each point like a broken record. I started suspecting something may be off when he would ask the same question for the fifth time when my answers were pretty clear, oh and when he started walking funny and talking to himself in Nepali, shaking his head and waving his hands in a way that screamed craaaaazy. I tried to get out of the jungle as fast as possible.
The elephant safari was incredible though. Not exactly a comfortable ride, but it was awesome to see so far into the jungle. We saw the endangered rhino, spotted dear, peacocks, and crocodiles, all in the most natural habitat I've ever seen. The national park almost looked untouched by man. The land on all four sides was vast expanses of flat plains. After being holed up in the shadow of the highest mountains in the world, this was quite refreshing. I'm amazed in a country as small as Nepal that the terrain can differ so drastically from alpine to tropical in little more than 150 km distance. Pictures to follow.
On friday I returned to Kathmandu, and went to the office of The Last Resort, a company that specializes in bungee jumping and canyoning in Nepal. I was experiencing a serious lapse of sanity, and wanted to pay them 100 Euro to jump off a bridge 200m high and canyon- something I didn't even know the meaning of. The next morning I got up at 5 to be bussed three hours away to a resort close to the Tibet border. The first thing we all had to do was walk across the bridge of death to the resort itself. That is where I realized the severity of the situation. You, want me, to jump off this, into... that. All I could see was mountain, canyon, cliff, jagged rocks, and roaring rivers crashing into them. I also realized how high two hundred meters was. This is no funny business, at the world's third highest bungee jump. I died a little right there.
But first was canyoning. There were five of us, three Aussies, an English girl and me. There was a Nepali man at first too, but he proceeded to drop out from cold feet before we got to the first waterfall. Always a good sign. We put on wet suits and climbed up to our first waterfall. I still had no idea what we were doing. Two others had canyoned before, and the other two I think at least knew what abseiling was. But not I. English as a second language people, I didn't get where I am today learning extreme sport vocabulary in school. When I realized that what we were doing was actually WALKING down seven waterfalls at a 90 degree angle to the cliff face, there was no turning back. We were harnessed and basically let ourselves down the waterfall by releasing rope in much the same way as lowering oneself from rock climbing, except you're getting a nice cold shower too. It was slippery and more work than I imagined, especially on the last waterfall that was 45m high. But it was great fun and exercise to boot.
The highlight of the day would have to be the bungee jump. Everyone in the world needs to do a bungee jump. It was the single most face ripping brain exploding thing in my life so far. I wisely chose to eat lunch right before the jump, that was a sarcastic statement, but don't worry there is no fertilzation story to be told here. There were only two of us doing the bungee jump and our fellow canyoners patted us on the back and watched from afar in admiration of our blind fearlessness. More like blind stupidity. They closed off the bridge and we waited with an eerie silence in the canyon. But of course every time I snapped out of my delirious state I couldn't ignore the perilous depth below and the rocks that I imagined chopping my flesh and offering it to the eagles. They say sky diving is a million times easier because the sea of clouds looks almost surreal and you have less apprehension about jumping out. But there's no way I could ignore the natural weapons of human destruction all around me. I was so out of it I didn't even notice the guy strapping and harnessing my ankles. They could have led me out on the platform with nothing on and I wouldn't have known any better. They instructed me to propell myself off the platform and do a swimmer's dive head first into the mountain air. I'm like dude I'm afraid of diving into a 10 ft pool. You will not be getting any artistry from me.
After two failed attempts to jump, I realized I had no choice. There was no way I could walk off this bridge as that would be against my principles. I am no coward! So I feebly stretched out my arms and. Dropped. I am not going to describe what the next few seconds were like, because there are simply no words. You'll just have to try it and see for yourself. I'll just say that if you are like me and have had the somewhat sadistic and self-deprecating curiosity of what jumping off a 50 storey building is like, you will be quite satisfied. Minus the inconvenient death part. I was so shook it still plays in my mind sometimes. My only regret is my pansy jump. They told me what I did was a bungee fall, and that's quite embarassing. lol if there is a next time, I promise to do a Michael Phelps worthy flip and dive fo sho.
Tomorrow I will begin a major catchup series of photos from Nepal, followed by Singapore, which I'm really quite fascinated by.
1.06.2009
i'm insane
but you knew that already.
I just returned from my trek this evening and i'm already packed and ready to go on another adventure tomorrow morning at 7am. The trek was in short incredible, in more detail the most awe-inspiring, excruciating, sweat fest i've ever taken part in.
We took the bus on the first day to Nayapul, and I'm proud to say I did it the Nepali way, hanging onto metal bars for my dear life on the roof of the bus. I loved every second of it, not only was it a beautiful morning, but the mountain views were unbelievable. The road snaked through the hills past valleys with beautiful little villages dotted along with expanses of bright yellow mustard fields in between. The first day's hike was relatively painless, about four hours of slightly upward incline leading us to Tika Dhunga, a tiny settlement of guest houses where we stayed the night. I guess it is low season and the village was small, but Cris and I turned out to be the only guests in the entire lodge that night, and after dinner we found ourselves in an empty dining room with a stereo that only played tibetan prayer chants, a slightly out of tune guitar, and the tumbling roar of a waterfall outside. It was like camp except minus the fire, s'mores, and add extra bad singing. Cris has a respectable and eclectic taste in music that is rare in Nepal, where everyone only hums hindi movie tunes, so the night passed much quicker as a result.
The next morning we embarked upon a 6 hour trek to Ghorepani, through a village called Ulleri, which can only be reached after 3421 steps up the steepest hill of my worst nightmares. However I displayed the resilience of the classic tortoise/hare fable and slowly but consistently made it to Ghorepani and ended up being the first trekker to reach the destination out of the pack. A good pat on me own back for that. That night turned out quite entertaining as we had a great mixture of trekkers at the lodge. There was a huge wood burning stove type contraption in the middle of the dining room that heated the showers, and while huddled around it for warmth I met two girls from Minnesota who are also doing volunteer work in Nepal, a couple of ladies from Vienna who I practiced my faltering Deutsch with, two investment banking chicas from Singapore one of whom, get this, came to Ivey two years ago for a business competition, and all of their guides and porters. The night was full of laughs and great stories. But it was early to bed for the next morning's dawn assault of Poon Hill to catch the sunrise! Yes, ha ha, I'll give you a minute to get over the name, and no I don't think it's located in the proximity of Kohk Mountain, but wouldn't that be nice.
We got up at 4. It was so cold and miserable under the blankets that I couldn't even bear the thought of heading into the mountain air, but I knew I had to do it. I had never seen that many stars in the sky before. Forget pitch black nights at the beach, at 3200 meters high the sheer magnificence of the stars was blinding. We slowly made our way up the hill and waited impatiently for the sky to turn a gorgeous shade of pink. Shortly after we ascended, two porters carrying massive baskets came up behind us and set up a gas stove for making tea. They were carrying 20 litres of water and juice! no wonder the prices were marked up 300% from below the hill. One by one, other trekkers came up the hill until it was almost 6am, when floods and literally torrents of people carrying flashlights came into view. We all went up to a tower where we got 360 degree views of the Annapurna massif and watched the sun slowly come up. The photos from that morning are incredible and I apologize for not putting them up but I can't do it until next week so check back!
Later that same day we made the long trek to Tatopani. And that's where Cris lost me. Yes he lost me. There was a fork in the road, both of which led to Tatopani, but as he was way up ahead of me, we took different roads and separated for the rest of the day. I was like uhhh. when my path led literally to a farmers front door. Then I asked the old man in front of me where Tatopani was, and he jabbed agressively in some obscure direction. I did not see anyone around for miles and was leery of walking into what looked like a dense forest where the man was pointing, and was going to retrace my path when he ran out and continued steering me. Now he was cutting hay at the time and had an ominous shrapnel looking device in his hands that he was waving vigorously in the air. I've never been more afraid of a 70 year old man holding a 10 inch knife in my life and didn't know what was stupider, to follow him or run away. But thankfully Nepal is a land of good souls and he pointed me to a shortcut and I ended up at Tatopani half an hour earlier than Cris. Along the way I latched onto a group of young Nepali girls who were also walking there to visit their friends. I didn't want to lose them as they seemed to know where they were going, but paid dearly for that when I realized they were really machines, built for maneuvering steep stairs up and down at literally inhuman speed. I don't think I've ever pushed myself to that physical level before. It was like do or die. So i did. but died also.
Tatopani turned out to be my favorite village of all. there was a hot spring. HALLELUIAH. you dont know how much my legs rejoiced that night. It was so beautiful, hidden deep in a valley between massive hills revealing Mount Daulaghiri in the distance, and literally in the backyard of our guest house. It was so great that this morning at 6 I got up to go again before the crowds could pollute the water. Best. feeling. ever. so. awesome. I was sad to leave Tatopani, with its beautiful tangerine trees, tropical flowers, and mountain views, but this morning we took a couple busses back to Pokhara to save two days of walking, conserve a day in Nepal for me, and give my knees a rest. I don't want to talk about the bus rides. I crapped my pants 50 times just looking out the window. The bus was wider than the road. swear to god. The river below was literally roaring our names. and Cris kept reminding me that if we flipped I would be "flat as a chapatti". If that wasn't bad enough, the road wasn't even a road, it was mounds of rock, pushed together, so that every minute we'd go over a bump and I'd smash my head on the roof. The worst was when another bus would be coming from the opposite direction and the two cars would cock fight eachother, daring the other to drive another inch forward, and suffer the consequences. No that wasn't the worst, the worst was when we stopped for five minutes waiting for a herd of 600 rams to clear the road because the driver was afraid of paying for damage should one of them tumble off the cliff. In conclusion, best journey of life.
So now I'm back, and going back to my first statement, I'm getting up at 6 tomorrow to go to Chitwan, another part of the country, in the Terai region where the land is quite flat and tropical, unlike Pokhara's mountainous terrain. I thought I should take advantage of my short time remaining in Nepal, because who knows when I'll be back again. I booked a ticket going there tomorrow, and will likely take an elephant safari Thursday morning and stay in the middle of the jungle that night on a stilted lodge on a tree. sickkk. i'll be on the lookout for tigers.
Oh yea saturday I'm going canyoning and bungee jumping off the world's third highest drop. I don't even know what canyoning is, even after i read the complete description in Lonely planet. I just know its crazy and I will be shook for life afterwards. wooord.
so here's hoping I'll be alive to catch my plane on Sunday to Singapore. Lol, my parents are reading this. sorry mom.
xo
I just returned from my trek this evening and i'm already packed and ready to go on another adventure tomorrow morning at 7am. The trek was in short incredible, in more detail the most awe-inspiring, excruciating, sweat fest i've ever taken part in.
We took the bus on the first day to Nayapul, and I'm proud to say I did it the Nepali way, hanging onto metal bars for my dear life on the roof of the bus. I loved every second of it, not only was it a beautiful morning, but the mountain views were unbelievable. The road snaked through the hills past valleys with beautiful little villages dotted along with expanses of bright yellow mustard fields in between. The first day's hike was relatively painless, about four hours of slightly upward incline leading us to Tika Dhunga, a tiny settlement of guest houses where we stayed the night. I guess it is low season and the village was small, but Cris and I turned out to be the only guests in the entire lodge that night, and after dinner we found ourselves in an empty dining room with a stereo that only played tibetan prayer chants, a slightly out of tune guitar, and the tumbling roar of a waterfall outside. It was like camp except minus the fire, s'mores, and add extra bad singing. Cris has a respectable and eclectic taste in music that is rare in Nepal, where everyone only hums hindi movie tunes, so the night passed much quicker as a result.
The next morning we embarked upon a 6 hour trek to Ghorepani, through a village called Ulleri, which can only be reached after 3421 steps up the steepest hill of my worst nightmares. However I displayed the resilience of the classic tortoise/hare fable and slowly but consistently made it to Ghorepani and ended up being the first trekker to reach the destination out of the pack. A good pat on me own back for that. That night turned out quite entertaining as we had a great mixture of trekkers at the lodge. There was a huge wood burning stove type contraption in the middle of the dining room that heated the showers, and while huddled around it for warmth I met two girls from Minnesota who are also doing volunteer work in Nepal, a couple of ladies from Vienna who I practiced my faltering Deutsch with, two investment banking chicas from Singapore one of whom, get this, came to Ivey two years ago for a business competition, and all of their guides and porters. The night was full of laughs and great stories. But it was early to bed for the next morning's dawn assault of Poon Hill to catch the sunrise! Yes, ha ha, I'll give you a minute to get over the name, and no I don't think it's located in the proximity of Kohk Mountain, but wouldn't that be nice.
We got up at 4. It was so cold and miserable under the blankets that I couldn't even bear the thought of heading into the mountain air, but I knew I had to do it. I had never seen that many stars in the sky before. Forget pitch black nights at the beach, at 3200 meters high the sheer magnificence of the stars was blinding. We slowly made our way up the hill and waited impatiently for the sky to turn a gorgeous shade of pink. Shortly after we ascended, two porters carrying massive baskets came up behind us and set up a gas stove for making tea. They were carrying 20 litres of water and juice! no wonder the prices were marked up 300% from below the hill. One by one, other trekkers came up the hill until it was almost 6am, when floods and literally torrents of people carrying flashlights came into view. We all went up to a tower where we got 360 degree views of the Annapurna massif and watched the sun slowly come up. The photos from that morning are incredible and I apologize for not putting them up but I can't do it until next week so check back!
Later that same day we made the long trek to Tatopani. And that's where Cris lost me. Yes he lost me. There was a fork in the road, both of which led to Tatopani, but as he was way up ahead of me, we took different roads and separated for the rest of the day. I was like uhhh. when my path led literally to a farmers front door. Then I asked the old man in front of me where Tatopani was, and he jabbed agressively in some obscure direction. I did not see anyone around for miles and was leery of walking into what looked like a dense forest where the man was pointing, and was going to retrace my path when he ran out and continued steering me. Now he was cutting hay at the time and had an ominous shrapnel looking device in his hands that he was waving vigorously in the air. I've never been more afraid of a 70 year old man holding a 10 inch knife in my life and didn't know what was stupider, to follow him or run away. But thankfully Nepal is a land of good souls and he pointed me to a shortcut and I ended up at Tatopani half an hour earlier than Cris. Along the way I latched onto a group of young Nepali girls who were also walking there to visit their friends. I didn't want to lose them as they seemed to know where they were going, but paid dearly for that when I realized they were really machines, built for maneuvering steep stairs up and down at literally inhuman speed. I don't think I've ever pushed myself to that physical level before. It was like do or die. So i did. but died also.
Tatopani turned out to be my favorite village of all. there was a hot spring. HALLELUIAH. you dont know how much my legs rejoiced that night. It was so beautiful, hidden deep in a valley between massive hills revealing Mount Daulaghiri in the distance, and literally in the backyard of our guest house. It was so great that this morning at 6 I got up to go again before the crowds could pollute the water. Best. feeling. ever. so. awesome. I was sad to leave Tatopani, with its beautiful tangerine trees, tropical flowers, and mountain views, but this morning we took a couple busses back to Pokhara to save two days of walking, conserve a day in Nepal for me, and give my knees a rest. I don't want to talk about the bus rides. I crapped my pants 50 times just looking out the window. The bus was wider than the road. swear to god. The river below was literally roaring our names. and Cris kept reminding me that if we flipped I would be "flat as a chapatti". If that wasn't bad enough, the road wasn't even a road, it was mounds of rock, pushed together, so that every minute we'd go over a bump and I'd smash my head on the roof. The worst was when another bus would be coming from the opposite direction and the two cars would cock fight eachother, daring the other to drive another inch forward, and suffer the consequences. No that wasn't the worst, the worst was when we stopped for five minutes waiting for a herd of 600 rams to clear the road because the driver was afraid of paying for damage should one of them tumble off the cliff. In conclusion, best journey of life.
So now I'm back, and going back to my first statement, I'm getting up at 6 tomorrow to go to Chitwan, another part of the country, in the Terai region where the land is quite flat and tropical, unlike Pokhara's mountainous terrain. I thought I should take advantage of my short time remaining in Nepal, because who knows when I'll be back again. I booked a ticket going there tomorrow, and will likely take an elephant safari Thursday morning and stay in the middle of the jungle that night on a stilted lodge on a tree. sickkk. i'll be on the lookout for tigers.
Oh yea saturday I'm going canyoning and bungee jumping off the world's third highest drop. I don't even know what canyoning is, even after i read the complete description in Lonely planet. I just know its crazy and I will be shook for life afterwards. wooord.
so here's hoping I'll be alive to catch my plane on Sunday to Singapore. Lol, my parents are reading this. sorry mom.
xo
1.02.2009
conquering the himalayas
not really, but I leave on my 4 day trek tomorrow. My time at Chetana has sadly come to an end and I hope the kids gained even a fraction of what I took away from it. I left wanting to make a more lasting impact than just another transient episode in the kids' lives and there is a future blog post dedicated to that, so look out.
I'm doing the Ghorepani Poon Hill trek, google it if you can, its supposed to be breathtaking. Tonight I am visiting the home of Laxmi, a girl I met at the guest house in Lakeside where I stayed for a couple of nights. Her parents, three sisters and baby brother live in a little village near Sarangkot hill, and they've invited me for the night! Some real rustic village living. Holes in the ground out by the cow shed for toilets kinda living. I can't wait.
So this means I probably won't have access to internet for a few days, so I apologize in advance for any unanswered emails. I am heading straight to Kathmandu after my trek and maaaaybe bungee jumping before flying out to Singapore on Sunday.
This internet is costing me more than two plates of MoMos (buffalo dumplings) so you know what I have to do.
xo
I'm doing the Ghorepani Poon Hill trek, google it if you can, its supposed to be breathtaking. Tonight I am visiting the home of Laxmi, a girl I met at the guest house in Lakeside where I stayed for a couple of nights. Her parents, three sisters and baby brother live in a little village near Sarangkot hill, and they've invited me for the night! Some real rustic village living. Holes in the ground out by the cow shed for toilets kinda living. I can't wait.
So this means I probably won't have access to internet for a few days, so I apologize in advance for any unanswered emails. I am heading straight to Kathmandu after my trek and maaaaybe bungee jumping before flying out to Singapore on Sunday.
This internet is costing me more than two plates of MoMos (buffalo dumplings) so you know what I have to do.
xo
12.31.2008
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
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
12.27.2008
flying high
So they told me not to eat before paragliding I probably should have listened.
Today was a beautiful day for flying, blue skies, bright sun and bits of white fluffy clouds here and there. I headed up Sarangkot hill on a jeep with the pilots for my tandem flight this morning at 9.30. Was supposed to go yesterday and came to Lakeside for a day off from the kids. But it was cloudy and I loafted by Phewa lake all afternoon waiting for the clouds to clear, and stayed the night in a guest house.
Paragliding is insane. I was brought up to a landing at the top of a hill, got strapped and harnessed to a pilot, and instructed to literally run off the side of the hill into the depths of the forests below. I was fearless in the jeep going up but when told to run off a cliff I definitely got a little queazy. Once we jumped off, we were immediately lifted up by strong winds into the sky and I was able to lift up my legs and sit on a nice little seat I was harnessed to. The vantage point was spectacular, there were eagles flying circles around us and I looked down on the lake and across to the Annapurna ranges just like one of them. It was freezing though, and a bit turbulent, with the pilot pulling unexpected turns and after about ten minutes I was definitely feeling my breakfast coming up lol. I toughed it out until almost the end, and then.. the poor villagers, I feel badly for them. They get a shower of people's meals three times a day. lol sorry if you're grossed out, it is what it is. hah an omlette to be exact.
Anyways, now that you're all hungry for more, lets talk about Christmas. The kids and I had a great time! The kids went to bed on Christmas eve, vowing to wake up at 1 am to catch Santa in the act. I cannot tell you how many times they asked me, "Didi, Santa will come yes?" and the older ones narrowing their eyes suspiciously at me "Didi, I think YOU are Santa, yes?" When they got up in the morning, dismayed that they did not wake up to see him, they rushed up to the roof and shouted with glee to discover packages with their names on them.
I fed them so much nutella, cookies, jelly beans, and chocolate they all felt sick after. Lol, excess or nothing right? Yup that's my motto. We opened presents, and read eachother's warm fuzzies. I got one with Sujeena, one of the older kids. "Jenny Didi, I like you because: 1. You are cute. Your hair is nice. 2. You are kind to everyone 3. You help others in need." It was touching. I've felt that this was one big family so far, at times questioning if the kids even realize their unique disposition in life, without the basic tenets of life that we all take for granted; the love of a mother and father. The note reminded me that they are quite aware. And just because they are seemingly oblivious in the simple joys they take in everyday life, does not mean they are blissfully ignorant. They are just that much more appreciative.
We were blessed with gorgeous weather on Christmas day and packed up a massive meal of pasta I cooked up for a picnic at Mahendrapul Cave nearby. It was my first experience cooking for an army. A small army of nine but oh can they ever eat. Its funny that when I was at home, I was all big on the lo-carb diet, defying my motherland in refusing rice at every meal. Here all I eat is rice and potatoes, three times a day, and yet I'm thinner than I ever was in Canada.
At night we watched Inside Man on the movie network until the power cut at around 9. Here in Nepal, the government rules that the power must be cut for a set amount of time every week, divided into four hour increments throughout the day, varying from region to region. What is ironic is that Nepal is the home to the world's second largest quantity of hydro electric resources, but simply has no infrastructure to collect it and transform it into actual power. The resulting power shortage coupled with political instability means that the citizens suffer. When I first arrived in Kathmandu, it was 8 hours a day of mandatory powercuts. By the second week, it was 10. Starting tomorrow it will be 12 hours. TWELVE HOURS! Oh and the government also likes to declare holidays on a whim, printing the date in the national newspaper, sometimes with just one week notice. Now that I wouldn't mind so much.
Here are some of the pictures from Christmas and my paragdliding adventure. Am trying to upload the video on youtube but its not working :(
Kalpana, 8, the tomboy of the bunch! love her.
Usha, 8, she's just a darling, the most affectionate one.
He really is like a monkey!
The rest of them are camera shy so I dont have too many of them. Here's a group shot
There was a batcave. Ohgod they looked like upside down rats with wings.
Phewa lake at sunset
In the air!
Birds eye view
Today was a beautiful day for flying, blue skies, bright sun and bits of white fluffy clouds here and there. I headed up Sarangkot hill on a jeep with the pilots for my tandem flight this morning at 9.30. Was supposed to go yesterday and came to Lakeside for a day off from the kids. But it was cloudy and I loafted by Phewa lake all afternoon waiting for the clouds to clear, and stayed the night in a guest house.
Paragliding is insane. I was brought up to a landing at the top of a hill, got strapped and harnessed to a pilot, and instructed to literally run off the side of the hill into the depths of the forests below. I was fearless in the jeep going up but when told to run off a cliff I definitely got a little queazy. Once we jumped off, we were immediately lifted up by strong winds into the sky and I was able to lift up my legs and sit on a nice little seat I was harnessed to. The vantage point was spectacular, there were eagles flying circles around us and I looked down on the lake and across to the Annapurna ranges just like one of them. It was freezing though, and a bit turbulent, with the pilot pulling unexpected turns and after about ten minutes I was definitely feeling my breakfast coming up lol. I toughed it out until almost the end, and then.. the poor villagers, I feel badly for them. They get a shower of people's meals three times a day. lol sorry if you're grossed out, it is what it is. hah an omlette to be exact.
Anyways, now that you're all hungry for more, lets talk about Christmas. The kids and I had a great time! The kids went to bed on Christmas eve, vowing to wake up at 1 am to catch Santa in the act. I cannot tell you how many times they asked me, "Didi, Santa will come yes?" and the older ones narrowing their eyes suspiciously at me "Didi, I think YOU are Santa, yes?" When they got up in the morning, dismayed that they did not wake up to see him, they rushed up to the roof and shouted with glee to discover packages with their names on them.
I fed them so much nutella, cookies, jelly beans, and chocolate they all felt sick after. Lol, excess or nothing right? Yup that's my motto. We opened presents, and read eachother's warm fuzzies. I got one with Sujeena, one of the older kids. "Jenny Didi, I like you because: 1. You are cute. Your hair is nice. 2. You are kind to everyone 3. You help others in need." It was touching. I've felt that this was one big family so far, at times questioning if the kids even realize their unique disposition in life, without the basic tenets of life that we all take for granted; the love of a mother and father. The note reminded me that they are quite aware. And just because they are seemingly oblivious in the simple joys they take in everyday life, does not mean they are blissfully ignorant. They are just that much more appreciative.
We were blessed with gorgeous weather on Christmas day and packed up a massive meal of pasta I cooked up for a picnic at Mahendrapul Cave nearby. It was my first experience cooking for an army. A small army of nine but oh can they ever eat. Its funny that when I was at home, I was all big on the lo-carb diet, defying my motherland in refusing rice at every meal. Here all I eat is rice and potatoes, three times a day, and yet I'm thinner than I ever was in Canada.
At night we watched Inside Man on the movie network until the power cut at around 9. Here in Nepal, the government rules that the power must be cut for a set amount of time every week, divided into four hour increments throughout the day, varying from region to region. What is ironic is that Nepal is the home to the world's second largest quantity of hydro electric resources, but simply has no infrastructure to collect it and transform it into actual power. The resulting power shortage coupled with political instability means that the citizens suffer. When I first arrived in Kathmandu, it was 8 hours a day of mandatory powercuts. By the second week, it was 10. Starting tomorrow it will be 12 hours. TWELVE HOURS! Oh and the government also likes to declare holidays on a whim, printing the date in the national newspaper, sometimes with just one week notice. Now that I wouldn't mind so much.
Here are some of the pictures from Christmas and my paragdliding adventure. Am trying to upload the video on youtube but its not working :(
Kalpana, 8, the tomboy of the bunch! love her.
Usha, 8, she's just a darling, the most affectionate one.
He really is like a monkey!
The rest of them are camera shy so I dont have too many of them. Here's a group shot
There was a batcave. Ohgod they looked like upside down rats with wings.
Phewa lake at sunset
In the air!
Birds eye view
12.24.2008
Merry Christmas
I'm about twelve hours ahead of you guys, but its Christmas Eve here so I want to wish everyone a very happy holiday, hopefully spent with loved ones :)
I've had the longest day, running around Pokhara like a madwoman, preparing for tomorrow's festivities. I am making Christmas breakfast and lunch tomorrow, so went to the supermarket and bought a feast of foods the kids don't normally eat. Bread with nutella in the morning, mango juice, coloured bowtie pasta, cookies, and candies, all imported goodness for which I have to apologize to the locavore in me. Just once a year! They eat all local and seasonal food the rest of the time... this will be an exception.
Oh, then the worst thing possible happened to me... I took my compact flash card from my Nikon D70 to a studio to be developed. The guy inserted the card into his computer for me to point out the pictures I want, but failed to tell me there was a virus on his computer. It shut down halfway through, and started dumping its contents, whatever that means. I didn't think anything of it, the computer restarted, and we waited for the card to load again. You probably already figured it out by now, the virus killed my memory card. At the time I thought it was just his computer that was messed, but when I brought it home to put in my camera again, it no longer read it. I lost more than 900 photos from the last month, the only memories of which are left are on this blog. But worse, all the portraits of the kids were gone! My pictures mean everything to me, so you can imagine my distress. I sat in my room for quite a while, just thinking. I keep telling myself it could be worse. I could have lost more memories if this happened later, at least my camera is ok, by the laws of probability, this probbbably won't happen again to me, so I learn my lesson to never take a memory card to sketchy third world photo studios.
No use crying over spilled milk, so I went back out to the market, bought a new card for an exorbitant price, and resolved to take the portraits again when they come home from school today and rush it back to a more legit studio tonight to print. Fingers crossed!
I got them a few play things as well, and combined with their secret santa warm fuzzies tomorrow should be good. I read a couple of the notes, lol very funny. "Nawarj Bhai (big brother) I like you because you are very fat but have very good behaviour." "Bikal, I like you because you look like monkey."
They are all off from school tomorrow so I think we'll wake up a little later, have some food, exchange gifts, and go on a day trip. There are a few temples of note around here, and a bat cave! I'm pretty excited...
I hope everyone has a fantastic time with your families, I hear its a White Christmas in Canada. Enjoy it!
I've had the longest day, running around Pokhara like a madwoman, preparing for tomorrow's festivities. I am making Christmas breakfast and lunch tomorrow, so went to the supermarket and bought a feast of foods the kids don't normally eat. Bread with nutella in the morning, mango juice, coloured bowtie pasta, cookies, and candies, all imported goodness for which I have to apologize to the locavore in me. Just once a year! They eat all local and seasonal food the rest of the time... this will be an exception.
Oh, then the worst thing possible happened to me... I took my compact flash card from my Nikon D70 to a studio to be developed. The guy inserted the card into his computer for me to point out the pictures I want, but failed to tell me there was a virus on his computer. It shut down halfway through, and started dumping its contents, whatever that means. I didn't think anything of it, the computer restarted, and we waited for the card to load again. You probably already figured it out by now, the virus killed my memory card. At the time I thought it was just his computer that was messed, but when I brought it home to put in my camera again, it no longer read it. I lost more than 900 photos from the last month, the only memories of which are left are on this blog. But worse, all the portraits of the kids were gone! My pictures mean everything to me, so you can imagine my distress. I sat in my room for quite a while, just thinking. I keep telling myself it could be worse. I could have lost more memories if this happened later, at least my camera is ok, by the laws of probability, this probbbably won't happen again to me, so I learn my lesson to never take a memory card to sketchy third world photo studios.
No use crying over spilled milk, so I went back out to the market, bought a new card for an exorbitant price, and resolved to take the portraits again when they come home from school today and rush it back to a more legit studio tonight to print. Fingers crossed!
I got them a few play things as well, and combined with their secret santa warm fuzzies tomorrow should be good. I read a couple of the notes, lol very funny. "Nawarj Bhai (big brother) I like you because you are very fat but have very good behaviour." "Bikal, I like you because you look like monkey."
They are all off from school tomorrow so I think we'll wake up a little later, have some food, exchange gifts, and go on a day trip. There are a few temples of note around here, and a bat cave! I'm pretty excited...
I hope everyone has a fantastic time with your families, I hear its a White Christmas in Canada. Enjoy it!
12.22.2008
dhal dhal and more dhal
Its my second day in Pokhara and love the tropical weather. I can finally sleep at night without thoughts of self-mutilation to preserve bloodflow. And the children. The children!! There are six of them, ranging from about 6 to 12. They're such an energetic bunch, constantly vying for my attention, yelling "DIDI! Look at me! DIDI look what I can do!!" Didi means big sister in Nepali, and that took some getting used to. I ignored quite a few calls at first lol, but they're quite persistent.
They come up to me and touch my cheeks saying "red like apple!" Its funny that when I first got to Kathmandu I was still shaking off my fish belly white from the Canadian winter and walking down the street, I'd be met with stares and whispers of locals saying, "Japonaise.." But after a couple days in the afternoon sun my face is now burnt to a crisp (nose is still peeling happily), and I started getting so many comments that I looked Nepali, like the Sherpa people of the mountains. hah! unfortunately I still can't get a deal at the market.
The children are so blissfully happy. I can't tell you how many times they've embraced me, held my hand with affectionate urgency, proudly showed me a particular piece of artwork, and said, "Jenny Didi, I'm SOOoooo happy you come here today! You come back again?"
I started thinking about the transient experience of their childhood. So many volunteers coming in and out of their daily lives. It can't be good for them. They fondly tell me about Jasmine Didi two weeks ago, and how she is also from Canada, "Jenny Didi do you know Jas Didi? You are her sister? You and Jas Didi come back again ok?" It pains me as I put a carefully handwritten note into my pocket, promising to deliver the invitation to return to Jas Didi in Vancouver.
I couldn't help thinking that these opportunities for foreigners to come into this land, to laugh and play with these children, are of more benefit to us than them. I know I made them giggle out of control when I lifted them high and whizzed them through the air like flying superhumans, but I couldn't help feeling self serving, learning so much more about myself in this process than I ever dreamed. In two weeks time I will be gone, but they will still rise daily at 6.30, eat their breakfast of wheat paste, check over their notes before class, and walk down to the school holding hands.
Sabina, the president of the Chetan Children's Centre, and Santos, her nephew and treasurer of the organization are an inspiration. Sabina's husband started the orphanage five years ago after visiting a village where he fell in love with the kids. Two years ago, he suddenly passed away from a tragic motorbike accident, but his legacy lives on through his wife and these children today. Sabina teaches some of the kids at a neighbourhood school during the day, and Santos takes care of the household after he comes home from university every day where he is studying physics. Santos is my age. My back ached from sitting and reading for two hours with the kids, and can't even imagine having two full-time jobs like Sabina and Santos.
It is Christmas soon, and although the children don't celebrate they are excited because they know it's a big deal. I thought all day yesterday about what I'm going to do for them, and finally came up with something. I told them about the concept of Secret Santa, but instead of giving a gift to your secret recipient, they are to write a warm fuzzy saying three things they like about that person. I figure that's what Christmas is about, making eachother feel good. I'm going to develop a photo of each of them and give it to them in a frame. But of course it will be brought by Santa on a sleigh, and they'd get a lump of coal if they don't behave. I think I've scared them enough into submission and restless anticipation of their gift. I'll probably also get a crapload of candy, i know i know, they can't go to a dentist if their teeth spoil, but only once a year right?!
On my front, I think I mentioned last week that I was affected with a quite terrible bout of stomach sickness. And it lasted just up until yesterday. I didn't eat for three full days, and that's pretty major for me.. On Saturday I woke up at 6 to take a bus to Pokhara, which took more than 8 hours over the bumpiest roads I've ever met. It was quite an experience, going through narrow roads that wind through the mountains constantly in fear of flying off the ledge or meeting an unexpected oncoming bus head on. I stayed Saturday night in Lakeside, Pokhara which is the big tourist trap by a scenic lake with a gorgeous view of the Annapurna ranges. Unfortunately for me the past few days have been cloudy and the skies quite devoid of a mountainous backdrop. Now I'm closer to the main city, away from tourists, where I think I actually blend into the locals if I keep my mouth shut.
Oh as the title suggests, I've been eating nothing but Dhal Bhat, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Its quite tasty, but then again it's only been a day.
On the Visa front, my only option is to fly to Singapore to get one. which is RIDICULOUS. the flight there costs an arm and a leg, added to the fact that I have to leave Nepal earlier than planned, I'm so bummed! I had to cut the stay at the orphange and am hopefully still doing a short 4-5 day trek before I fly out on the 11th of Jan, cutting a full two weeks from my trip. :(
I'll update again once I have the individual portraits of the kids. For now, here are some pics.
Lakeside
quite pensive, huh
my much more modest digs. its a wooden crate, actually.
study time
his name is Bikal, but I call him Pickle, and he doesn't know any different, hehe
getting ready for school
the beautiful sight from the roof this morning. only a fleeting 10 minutes as the clouds promptly covered its face again
xo
They come up to me and touch my cheeks saying "red like apple!" Its funny that when I first got to Kathmandu I was still shaking off my fish belly white from the Canadian winter and walking down the street, I'd be met with stares and whispers of locals saying, "Japonaise.." But after a couple days in the afternoon sun my face is now burnt to a crisp (nose is still peeling happily), and I started getting so many comments that I looked Nepali, like the Sherpa people of the mountains. hah! unfortunately I still can't get a deal at the market.
The children are so blissfully happy. I can't tell you how many times they've embraced me, held my hand with affectionate urgency, proudly showed me a particular piece of artwork, and said, "Jenny Didi, I'm SOOoooo happy you come here today! You come back again?"
I started thinking about the transient experience of their childhood. So many volunteers coming in and out of their daily lives. It can't be good for them. They fondly tell me about Jasmine Didi two weeks ago, and how she is also from Canada, "Jenny Didi do you know Jas Didi? You are her sister? You and Jas Didi come back again ok?" It pains me as I put a carefully handwritten note into my pocket, promising to deliver the invitation to return to Jas Didi in Vancouver.
I couldn't help thinking that these opportunities for foreigners to come into this land, to laugh and play with these children, are of more benefit to us than them. I know I made them giggle out of control when I lifted them high and whizzed them through the air like flying superhumans, but I couldn't help feeling self serving, learning so much more about myself in this process than I ever dreamed. In two weeks time I will be gone, but they will still rise daily at 6.30, eat their breakfast of wheat paste, check over their notes before class, and walk down to the school holding hands.
Sabina, the president of the Chetan Children's Centre, and Santos, her nephew and treasurer of the organization are an inspiration. Sabina's husband started the orphanage five years ago after visiting a village where he fell in love with the kids. Two years ago, he suddenly passed away from a tragic motorbike accident, but his legacy lives on through his wife and these children today. Sabina teaches some of the kids at a neighbourhood school during the day, and Santos takes care of the household after he comes home from university every day where he is studying physics. Santos is my age. My back ached from sitting and reading for two hours with the kids, and can't even imagine having two full-time jobs like Sabina and Santos.
It is Christmas soon, and although the children don't celebrate they are excited because they know it's a big deal. I thought all day yesterday about what I'm going to do for them, and finally came up with something. I told them about the concept of Secret Santa, but instead of giving a gift to your secret recipient, they are to write a warm fuzzy saying three things they like about that person. I figure that's what Christmas is about, making eachother feel good. I'm going to develop a photo of each of them and give it to them in a frame. But of course it will be brought by Santa on a sleigh, and they'd get a lump of coal if they don't behave. I think I've scared them enough into submission and restless anticipation of their gift. I'll probably also get a crapload of candy, i know i know, they can't go to a dentist if their teeth spoil, but only once a year right?!
On my front, I think I mentioned last week that I was affected with a quite terrible bout of stomach sickness. And it lasted just up until yesterday. I didn't eat for three full days, and that's pretty major for me.. On Saturday I woke up at 6 to take a bus to Pokhara, which took more than 8 hours over the bumpiest roads I've ever met. It was quite an experience, going through narrow roads that wind through the mountains constantly in fear of flying off the ledge or meeting an unexpected oncoming bus head on. I stayed Saturday night in Lakeside, Pokhara which is the big tourist trap by a scenic lake with a gorgeous view of the Annapurna ranges. Unfortunately for me the past few days have been cloudy and the skies quite devoid of a mountainous backdrop. Now I'm closer to the main city, away from tourists, where I think I actually blend into the locals if I keep my mouth shut.
Oh as the title suggests, I've been eating nothing but Dhal Bhat, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Its quite tasty, but then again it's only been a day.
On the Visa front, my only option is to fly to Singapore to get one. which is RIDICULOUS. the flight there costs an arm and a leg, added to the fact that I have to leave Nepal earlier than planned, I'm so bummed! I had to cut the stay at the orphange and am hopefully still doing a short 4-5 day trek before I fly out on the 11th of Jan, cutting a full two weeks from my trip. :(
I'll update again once I have the individual portraits of the kids. For now, here are some pics.
Lakeside
quite pensive, huh
my much more modest digs. its a wooden crate, actually.
study time
his name is Bikal, but I call him Pickle, and he doesn't know any different, hehe
getting ready for school
the beautiful sight from the roof this morning. only a fleeting 10 minutes as the clouds promptly covered its face again
xo
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