Goodbye Nepal

Tonight is my last night in Nepal. With visas about to expire, tomorrow Juan, Justo and I will be heading from Lumbini, birthplace of Buddha, where we are at the moment, to Sounali, the Nepalese border crossing where we will be crossing the border into India, first stop Varanassi. Tomorrow will also mark exactly four weeks since I arrived in Nepal, apprehensive and excited, exhausted and unsure, not knowing exactly what I was doing and where I was going, still uncertain whether I’d made the right decision to take such a big break from what I then knew as my life, to head out into the big unknown.

When I landed in Kathmandu I knew nothing about Nepal. I had no plans, no friends, only the idea that things would sort themselves out. All I knew was that Kathmandu was the capital city, and that there was a place somewhere called Pokhara that had a lake. I knew that I might be doing a vipassana course, and that I most definitely wasn’t going to be doing any trekking. Oh, and I also knew that I had a small piece of plastic in my wallet, otherwise known as a credit card, that I had to give to someone who had lost hers and needed a replacement brought from Israel. When I started my trip I knew nothing about the concept of not planning in advance, of waiting to see where the winds would take you, and of the idea of total flexibility in traveling. Since then I have learnt that you really never know what to expect from each day when you’re travelling, and that the more you expect, the more disappointed you will be. I have learnt that plans can and should be changed, and that adapting to circumstances, and learning not to being upset when things don’t exactly go as expected, can make the biggest difference in the world.

That first night, when, exhausted and disillusioned, I returned to my guesthouse after my less than successful foray into the crazy streets of Thamel, I realized that this whole travelling alone thing might be tougher than I had expected. That night I felt so alone, and wondered whether I’d made a mistake. Four weeks later, I can say with all the confidence in the world that I made the right decision. Another thing that I can also advise, is that if you ever have the opportunity to do a favour for someone, however small, to grab that opportunity with both hands, because, besides the great feeling you get for doing something for no other reason than to be a good person, you never know exactly what is going to result from that small deed. I brought a credit card to Kathmandu from Israel, that’s all. No big deal, no stress on my part. I met Bina’s brother at the airport in Tel Aviv, he handed me the card and wished me safe travels. When I arrived in Kathmandu I arranged to meet her to hand over the card. That’s all, nothing else, but from that nothing, a chain reaction occurred of meeting people and making decisions, that lead me to where I am today, with the people I am with here. I don’t know what would have happened if not for that piece of plastic, I’m sure that all would have been fine, but I still have to say that I am so grateful for it.

After three days chilling in Pokhara, eating, resting and talking, going from café to café, meeting new friends, sharing stories, and introducing friends to the amazing Turkish restaurant I’d eaten at the last time I was in town (Merhava, highly recommended!), we made our way down to Lumbini, our last stop before crossing the border. After a long, tiring bus journey that somehow took us past the vipassana center (never thought I’d see that place again!), we finally arrived, and I must admit I was a bit disappointed. Lumbini does not have much to offer, it’s basically a few streets catering to the tourists making the pilgrimage to the place it is widely believed that Buddha was born. A gaggle of unkempt children begging for rupees, and I felt we’d landed in a Nepal that was different to the one I’d experienced so far. I went so far as considering suggesting to the guys that we leave the next morning and go to India a day early, but I decided to hold back. Considering we were all suffering from dodgy stomachs, I figured that at least we could rest the next day, and start the long journey to Varanassi fresh. Dinner and a bet later, we found ourselves in the company of two Israelis, one Kiwi and two Americans and, after some good conversation, Lumbini seemed a little less uninviting.

Today we rented bicycles and rode through the massive World Heritage Site dedicated to Buddha, a huge park with grasslands and wildlife reserves, stuppas interspersed between the trees, with a long canal running from the Maya Devi Temple on one side almost to the World Peace Pagoda on the other. My bike riding skills haven’t been properly tested in a long, long time and I was really apprehensive when we went to choose our bicycles. Luckily for me, I found the perfect fit and was soon up and riding like it hadn’t been forever since the last time. The feeling was amazing, I felt so free zooming down the banks of the canal, and just so relaxed and happy.

Afterwards we went to explore a village located just outside the touristy part of Lumbini, my first experience with authentic village life, as most of my time in Nepal has been spent in the cities. It was definitely an eye opener and I have to admit I felt a bit uncomfortable, like I was prying into the villager’s private lives. I assume that this feeling will go away as I fall more into the part of traveller and start to feel more comfortable among the local people. While the adults didn’t really interact with us, we met a lot of excitable children all of whom requested photographs over and over. Unfortunately the only camera lens I have at the moment doesn’t do so well with low light situations, so I didn’t photograph so much, but I did fall in love with an adorable girl in a blue and purple dress who shyly ran along with the others. When I took her photograph and she came to look at the result, she placed her hand so trustingly on my shoulder, I actually felt my heart melt and would have adopted her that second if I could. It was a refreshing relief from the children of yesterday who seemed so wild.

Now, as we begin to prepare ourselves for the new reality that is India, I think back over the past four weeks. I think of some of the interesting Nepalese people that I met, such as Buddhi, father of three who has such high hopes for his daughters, both in high school, and of Pippi the tour guide who walks from his village in the hills down to Pokhara, an hour there and back every day, and was so incredibly sure footed on the walk up to the World Peace Pagoda (yes, Pokhara has one too!) that I felt really clumsy walking next to him. I think of Bishal, my accidental tour guide on my first day in Kathmandu, who volunteers with the emergency services and is working to put himself through university, Saloni, the gorgeous thirteen year old henna artist who has such huge dreams for the future, and Suresh, the man who taught me how to play the Nepalese game Bagh Chal, who has a gorgeous wife and incredibly talented father who hand-draws the game boards he sells, one of which is in my possession now.

I think of all my fellow travellers, too many to be named, some of whom have gone home already and some of whom have continued on to other places. Some I will see again, and some I won’t, but all have touched me and have made these first few weeks so incredible.

I think of how amazing it is that we all so easily adapt to the conditions around us, such as how during my time in Nepal, hot showers have become a luxury and using Asian toilets has become an experience no longer to be feared (although still not entirely understood). How power outages have become everyday occurrences, and having the lights go out just as my dinner is being served isn’t as daunting as it sounds. How when I see the stray dogs and cows roam the streets, I think to myself that I actually prefer those animals to the mangy cats infesting so many of our neighbourhoods back home.

I remember my delight at unexpected surprises, such as finding gluten-free bread (millet and buckwheat!) at a random café in Pokhara, and my discomfort at seeing all the gazing, accusatory faces as I almost got arrested when my camera made a noise during the appearance of the living goddess, Kumari, on the balcony in her quarters in Kathmandu Durbar Square. I think of the difficult days of the vipassana course, and all lessons that I continue to learn from that experience. I think of the lazy days in Begnas and Pokhara, and how I’m finally learning how to relax and just be.

It’s been a busy few weeks over here. I’m really sad to leave, but am also really looking forward to moving on to my next challenge. Goodbye Nepal, hello India. Looking forward to seeing what you have in store for me in the next couple of months.