Apparently the guy back in Pokhara that booked our safari took it upon himself to book us on a 2 day full tour package. Well, we are here now and there no way I'm getting back on that bus today. The "resort" is decent for Nepal standards. A tree in the courtyard bares fruit the size of a basketball. The owner gave me a machete to try one. The taste was similar to a grapefruit. 4 Spaniards signed up for the same adventure and arrived on the later bus. Before sunset our guide walked us through town to see the river. Crocodiles baked in the evening heat. We walked around the river bend and found the elephant "sanctuary". Our tour guide expected us to be thrilled to see these beautiful elephants up close. He was surprised to see that the 6 of us upset with the living conditions of these large animals. Chains held their feet together. More chains were attached to big poles in the ground. They could not move or touch the each other. The animals were clearly upset and struggled to pace and rock. I began to cry just thinking about the life they live. Can you imagine these sociable creatures living like this for 80 years? I know it's easy to brush this experience off as just ignorance in a third world country, but think about it the next time you go to a zoo or an aquarium. There's no difference. We just do a better job hiding the truth. We saw the same with a walrus in an Alaskan aquarium. Everyone's mood had changed at that point. Seeing things like that hurts your soul.
As the sun sat we were escorted to a cultural dance then finally to bed. It had been a long day. Another kick in the pants was that all our food choices had been made ahead of time. Every meal started with the same soup that tasted like Moo Goo Gai Pan. Every meal... You know that bland Chinese plate with the slimy vegetables?
The next morning our safari officially started. Everyone was well rested and excited. The guide drove us in an open air truck back to the river. Thin, hand crafted wooden canoes laid on the rivers edge. The 6 of us boarded with our guide and his assistant. The assistant was the baggage boy from the resort in a buttoned up shirt and a bamboo stick. Another gentleman stood at the end of the boat with long pole to push the canoe across the river. Halfway across we stopped and turned back. Everyone was confused. Apparently the canoe could hold more people and additional tourists had arrived at the river bank. We came back to pick them up. As each person stepped onto the canoe we sank lower and lower in the chocolate milk water. Yes. The same water as the crocodiles... And no life jackets. Honestly, some times we get ourselves in the craziest situations. Now with 13 people in the skinny handmade canoe we make the crossing.
Safely on the other side we set out for a long walk. We started in the jungle looking for monkeys and scared up a few wild chickens before heading into the grasslands. The guide told us to stay close together and between the two of them. We would call it monkey grass, but this was much taller and so thick you couldn't see through it. A narrow dirt path led us around the grasses. After a while we all became lax, joking and wondering how much longer we would be out here. Suddenly the ground around us rumbled and the tall grasses began to shake. We moved quickly to higher ground and found a rhinoceros munching his lunch. Shadow laughed and said he thought it was a Bengal tiger. Which by the way are also in the grasslands here. He said he had just watched a YouTube video where a Bengal tiger had jumped from the grass and tried to swipe a tourist off an elephant's back. We all looked at him and shook our heads. The fear set in that we were sitting ducks in the middle of nowhere with 2 skinny "guides" carrying bamboo sticks! One of the Spaniards picked a stick off the ground as we continued our death walk.
We arrived safely back to the resort for a late lunch. Starting with our bland, slimy veggies soup and a short siesta.
To end the day we took a nice drive on the open air truck into another back country section looking again for a tiger. The evening was beautiful. The green trees and pure landscape with a vibrant sunset. On the drive back we spotted a Bengal tiger prints in the sandy road. The big cat had crossed our path at some point. We turned to follow the tracks where they disappeared into the grass.
The next morning my butt was sitting in the safari truck with my bag packed ready to go. Not that I was ready to get back on the bus or ready to leave here, but I know what happens if you are the last one on the bus. I do not want to ride up front with the driver without a seat. No thank you!
I'll save you the regurgitation of the bus ride back to Kathmandu and simply say that Dramamine would have been a nice drug to have. Just remember why the drunks seem to survive a car accident. He doesn't brace for impact. Shortly before getting to town, the road curves steeply out of a valley. Traffic is backed up for miles. Eventually we see the problem. Another tour bus took a dive of the edge.
Our last days in Kathmandu were spent buying gifts and touring the sights. Shadow took me to the monkey temple. A place he had visited before I arrived. Monkeys lounged around the temple drinking water from the fountains, swinging from the prayer flags, and eating the rice left by locals for prayer donations. A man was selling fresh fruit near the top. It looked delicious on the warm day. For a dollar he would give you a plate full. We bought one to share. As we walked away to find a seat he began to yell at us. I assured him we would bring back his plate. He pointed for us to sit beside him and eat. Ok. Whatever dude. A young man came around the corner with a slingshot. His job was to keep the monkeys from stealing the fruit. As we finished, an Anglo man was checking out the fruit stand. We assured him the fruit was good. He purchased the fruit and had a similar experience about where to eat. As we walked away Shadow and I caught a glimpse of a monkey walking by. Within a second the monkey had jumped and swiped a handful of fruit from the man's plate. It was hilarious.
Our flight left around 10pm and our last Nepal experience was one of the most moving. Downtown on the river's edge lies the local Hindu
cremation ceremony. Bodies of the deceased are carried down to the water's edge where the white cloth is unwrapped from their feet and head to be cleansed. They are then carried to one of the many concrete pillars, covered with orange marigolds, draped with incense and burned. An attendant cares for each body maintaining the fire before brushing the ashes into the river. At 6pm every night a grand Hindu ceremony begins with music and dancing. Locals join in on the entertainment celebrating life and death. It may sound morbid, but to be exposed to death on this level and to celebrate life in this way makes me think that our culture is the one who is getting it wrong. Life should be celebrated. Death is something we all get to do. It reminds us that life should be lived.
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