Greg's Selected Photos

Michelle's traveling companion, Greg, writes:

Headed to Malaysia in the morning...starting with a week on the beach, followed by some time trekking into the Cameron Highlands (tea plantations, rain forests, sanctuaries), lastly on Penang Island for food and culture. 

Cold showers the last few days but Pramilas food is great. vegetarian but all fresh green with fruit and beans. Lots of garlic, lime, and peppers. Great flat breads and pancakes. It's mango, watermelon and lychee season.

Here are some selected photos. 

News from Bhaktapur, Nepal

Michelle's traveling companion, Greg, writes:

The ancient enclave of Bhaktapur is pretty sweet especially at dusk when all the cooking is going on in the alleyways and crevices of the village.

It got dark on us and we ended up outside the walls inadvertently. Foreigners are supposed to pay $15 for a pass to enter the area but yesterday no one was at the gate (typical Nepali) so we skated. As we attempted to come in a little while ago the guard said $15, but I interjected that we had paid and our passes were back at the hotel. He said which hotel? So I pulled the hotel card out of my pocket as he said, ok, bring it tomorrow. Yeah, right, sure.

There are a lot of craftsmen working on pottery, wood carving and others selling their wares that are made by them and their families off site. Musical instruments, brass works, jewelry, and especially all grades of cashmere, among other things.

Checked out the old palace (which is now a museum) for 100R, about $1.20. Not much of it is open so it's a little bit of a disappointment, especially compared to the detail of the 2-3 hundred year old hand carved temples abounding nearby.

Spent the day meandering and exploring impossibly narrow alleys, hobbit doors leading to hidden restaurants, small shrines, and hooka bars. It looks like a combination of the casbah and old England. Bought some great gifts for prices about a tenth of US prices assuming you can find this stuff at home. It won't be in statesville.

Some of the snacks today:
Muesli with bananas, apples, and a fantastic water buffalo yogurt (famous Bhaktapur curd) and a real cup of coffee.
Cheese toast(yak?)
Fried momos ($1) which are small veggie egg rolls with a spicy sauce.
Fried soybeans with sautéed carrots, peppers, and onions (very spicy).
Everest beer
Lychee (a small spiney fruit that is easy to peel and tastes like a lemony peach but the consistency of muscadine grapes). $3 per kilo.they are about the size of a ping pong ball. Very delicious and just in season. I didn't get those growing up in Leaksville, NC.
Oh yeah, more water buffalo yogurt which is best very cold but the electricity was off all day.

Well, back to my Everest on the roof (found a place for 250R about $3 for a 22oz.).
Namaste

Not Just Another Haircut

Michelle's traveling companion, Greg, writes:

As I was walking up a steep alley way in Bhaktapur to get some of that ice cold water buffalo yogurt I noticed a small barber shop with a youngish barber cutting some kids hair. It's been 5 or six weeks since my last one and I felt a little shaggy so I thought, "Ok, it's just dead skin, the comb can't be dirtier than some of the bunks I've slept in on the trek, so get a haircut already".

After my not so cold yogurt (power has been out all day) I stopped by on the way back down the hill dodging motorbikes and other foot traffic and pulling picks (think basketball) on the little persistent beggar boys. Alas there were two people waiting for their beauty treatments so I thought, "come back later since nothing is too far away in Bhaktapur".

About an hour later the shop was even more crowded but the barber smiled and shrugged his shoulders in a friendly way. Ok, return tomorrow morning.

The next morning after a my breakfast and fortified with 4 or 5 cups of really good coffee I made my way past a cow, several vendors selling fruit, vegetables, and pretty much anything else. The pervading smells of the place evoked reminiscences of my time in Viet Nam (stale foul smells mixed with incense and the other end of the spectrum, aromas of exotic spices simmering and fresh breads being baked). You don't so much smell these things; instead you feel them wrapping you like a heavy early morning mist.

As I turned up the alleyway off the main drag I looked back on this time warp of a street scene. Except for the 2 or 3 motor scooters this could have been the Bhaktapur of Chaucer's era with the uneven brick pavers, open gutters filled with garbage, and melancholic, wailing music in the background.

Focusing my attention on my intended goal I was pleasantly surprised that only the friendly young barber was in the shop smiling at me as if he had expected me and quickly brushing off the homemade chair. As I sat down he made a big show of cleaning his instruments, a big red comb, a small thin long black one, and an old pair of well sharpened scissors (with what looked like the old greasy rag I heep hanging in my garage that I check the oil in my car with....for years). Anyway, I had resolved not to blanch and settled in for what is always too short an experience. Someone taking care of one's head in a careful manner.

Without a word he proceeded to start snipping expertly with rapid comb/snip motions moving rhythmically up the side of my head and then on to the next parcel of the shaggy gray brown weed field that passes for a good head of hair for a man my age. By this time I was practically dozing off listening to the snip snip and feeling the almost ticklish touch of the comb dancing through my hair. The guy was deft and didn't have a single misstep in his motions. You could easily tell this wasn't his first parade.

Pretty soon after switching combs a couple of times he put down his tools and started rapidly mussing up my hair with his fingertips all through my roots, kind of a scalp/follicle massage. This went on for quite a while and I wasn't complaining as it felt pretty good. This motion finally proceeded to a temple massage and then on to a full neck, shoulder, back, shoulder, arm, hand, finger, back some more, neck again and again until I began wondering if this guy had may be either fallen in love with me or was just getting his daily work out routine out of the way.

Just when you think the gig is over he says in heavily accented lilting Asian flavored English,"you wan facial?" Uh, duh, sure.

He smiled and went into the other room and came back with a tray full of jars and bottles and an even more decrepit yellowish towel (I am still hoping it started out as a natural fiber towel and not a white one).

He opened a white jar from his tray of tricks and scooped out two fingers full of what appeared to be my grandmother's crisco and the poured a goodly measure of a pinkish liquid from a bottle into this goo and hand mixed it in his palm and proceeded to gently massage this concoction into my face and neck, ears, eyelids, nose, etc. it felt cooling, smelled pleasant and wasn't the least bit greasy. He then wiped my face off with this brown/yellow greasy rag. The next step in my beautification (is that a Catholic term?) was to spray my face down with water from a spray bottle and wipe it off again with that left over mechanics rag.

He disappeared into the back room again and came out with what looked like a small side grinder with a rubber wheel on it (did this guy have a body shop on the side in the other room?).

Btw the power had come back on and really good Nepali music was playing across the alley. I remarked on how muchI liked their music and he seemed to understand. A few minutes later the music stopped and when I asked about it he stuck his head out of the door and yelled something across the alley to an upstairs window. A woman's voice answered, he spoke again and after a moment the music resumed. Evidently she had changed the channel.

Back to the facial he plugged this thing into a dirty, yellowed electrical cord (after first clearing away rubble) and clicked it on. He seemed as surprised as I was when the device started whirring with a smooth soft buzz. As he applied this soft rubber disc to my face he simultaneously squirted a bluish lotion into the vortex and went all over my face paying particular attention to my chin, upper lip, nose, and ears. Next came a lower, slower speed with deep vibrations. This went on for a long time and felt really weird and pleasant at the same time. After a while he turned it off, made up a new mixture from his lotions and potions and thoroughly massaged my eyes, ears, nose, and throat (just kidding about the throat).

You can probably guess what happened next, you guessed it, another trip to the back room. As I bent around to see what was happening (there was no mirror on the wall) I was almost expecting a screwdriver or may be sandpaper or something but he came out with a small stack of obviously freshly laundered, bright, white hand towels bound together with a string. Was this the years supply?

He sprayed my face down with water again and wiped it with a brand new clean towel. Then came another bluish, but different lotion (aqua velva?). As I started to get up he started massaging my scalp again and before he was through I had another full thirty minute scalp face neck eyebrow lip shoulder arm hand finger nose ear nose....did I mention back? massage including a chiropractic cracking of the neck, spinal realignment and knuckle popping. Then came a complete cleaning of my hair face neck and shirt with quick light brush strokes from the no longer clean towel.

When I finally got up after almost two hours he smiled and ask me if I wanted hair creme....to which I replied no as it looked like 90 weight gear oil (penzoil ?).

We settled on 700r (around $8.50) which probably thrilled him. As I left feeling a little drained but very handsome I was wondering how many more clients could he get out of that towel.

May be I'll go back there just for the massage as it is a lot cheaper than the one I got in Thamel.

Bhaktapur Temple

Michelle at Bhaktapur, Nepal, 

in front of the ornately-carved wood of an ancient temple

Annapurna Sanctuary Trek...Along the Way

World's Largest Rhododendron Forest

Bridges of all types--I'm glad I'm not afraid of heights!

Terraced Hillsides

Annapurna Base Camp Trek

Michelle's fellow-traveler, Greg, writes:
I am back in Katmandu from my trek up to the Annapurna Base Camp. I kept a pretty detailed journal during the trek but here I am going to send out some highlights from this 12 day journey through the back country of Nepal the apex of which was a clear sunrise (not a cloud in the sky) surrounded by 8 Himalayan peaks several of which were above 8000 m. Anything below 6000 meters is not considered a mountain, just a hill.

Annapurna South Face

The actual hiking was 11 days but I have counted 12 because the journey there was pretty wild with a bus ride (more local, no ac) where we were a definite minority.

The tea houses were varied with a couple being very well appointed with private baths and hot water, western toilets, and great views. A few others were more simple but clean with Turkish (and a couple of times western) toilets down the hall. A couple were dumps with pretty bad smelling Turkish toilets outside in a separate room. All had spectacular views of the snow covered peaks, bamboo forests, or jungle complete with monkeys.

In the sanctuary all the menus were the same (except in layout) with the prices steadily rising the further into the hike. For example a 22 oz Everest beer was about 350 rupees at the beginning but 850 up at the base camp. 1 USD is 86 rupees. I didn't drink any until we got back down to the next to last day. Da bhat ranged from 300 to 480 rupees.  I ate a lot of dal bhat which is lentil soup with rice and a little vegetable curry on the side; sometimes with chutney, always with this great hot green pepper sauce. Also some fried noodles with veggies (mostly carrots and cabbage) and some pretty good yak cheese pizza a couple of times. No meat as it is frowned on in the sanctuary. There is a classic sigh at the entrance to the sanctuary (about 3 days into the trek) that has many misspellings. It warns of dangers and personal accident to those who bring in meat. Kinda pisses off the gods of the mountains.
Oat meal with apples for breakfast, dal bhat for lunch, noodles for dinner, gallons of either black, mint, lemon, or ginger tea. All the food was either delicious or I was famished enough to cover up any deficiencies. Toward the end one of the best well appointed tea houses that we stayed at had a baked apple/banana turnover (totally fresh and homemade) served hot for 240 rupees.

The villages we hiked through were peopled by simple peasants going about their daily business but always acknowledged us with a smile and a polite Nemaste. Marijuana grows everywhere and is ok to smoke if you want to. Most villages have electricity from small water powered generators.

Some of my best photos are of them working: plowing with an iron tipped wooden plow pulled by small water buffalo in impossibly tight, steep terraces, sawing planks with a two man saw, weaving with a hand loom, drying wild spinach, and breaking larger rocks into smaller pieces to either put in mortar or to repair an sidewalk. Almost all labor is done by hand.

The people are friendly, industrious, and hard working. They routinely climb 2 or 3 or 4 thousand feet with 50-60 kilo loads, carrying anything and everything up the hills on their backs: coils of black pipe too wide to believe, 60 kilo slabs of flat granite, doors, rebar in coils, 30 gallon propane tanks (empty back down, ponies carry them up).

We climbed over 25,000 feet during the 12 days. We had one day over 5000. One other day we descended 6550 feet with 1500 feet of climbing that day. There were a lot of steps.  It rained every day but we only got rained on once for a few minutes ( my weather Kharma held).

Life in Thakurdawa

Michelle writes: I met another travel companion, Lorraine, at Sadhana for yoga. Then we traveled to Lumbini together for the Vipassana (in silence). We met today in Kathmandu for lunch. Now I go to the farm and she travels to India, volunteering at Mother Theresa's in Calcutta. She ok'd sharing the post below. Another perspective of this amazing country!

Lorraine writes:
At my Homestay we have a Hen with 10 chicks. One of the goat's had a baby so apart from chicken shit there was also goat shit in the hallway as it was kept in the house after the birth for safety. Such is life! - our next neighbour across a small field has an elderly mother who frequently comes to the side of their house and lifts her skirts and pee's. She suddenly noticed me one day and from then on she just lifted her skirts a little less.

In my first week a crocodile attacked a 5 yr old, her sister and mother who came to rescue and finally Dad managed to prise its jaws but his hand was bitten in the process. They say it is unusual but you can imagine how I felt when Saraswoti suggested I wash my clothes in the river! Two weeks later I was washing my clothes in the river but a different canal from where the incident took place. I could not get down to it easily due to my knee so the first two times I got help from the girls who did the rinsing.

You do not see many cars here. They tend to be the Lodge Jeeps who pick up their guests and later will take them into the Jungle. The main motor transport is motorcycle. Many others have bikes and of course the oxen pulled carts do most of the heavy moving. The people here are indifferent to animal suffering and quite cruel. The motorbikes can be a nuisance as they kick up dust so my clothes are dust coated and sweaty everyday so they have to be washed every day. The dust gets in your nose and eyes. One day I left the school and there had been some sand on the road and the sheer volume of children leaving the school (about 450) kicked up that much dust it looked like a sandstorm so you have to have a handy cloth with you all the time protect your breathing.

Fortunately I packed two old muslin's that I had when Peter was a baby so they have been a life saver as sweat pours off me so I am constantly wiping my face. It isn't helped by the fact that Tharu people are into using a lot of chilli in their cooking and Saraswoti uses it a lot in the sauce that she cooks the river snails in that I am regularly served. Glad that bits over as occasionally I felt like wretching. They have given me chicken and pork but the latter was so fatty I found it difficult to digest so asked not to have it again.

A lot of children are brought to school on the panier rack on the back of Dad or mother's bike and there can be two of them brought this way. A few are brought by Dad on a motorbike and I have seen a Dad with one little one in front of him and three behind him!

Despite the very high temperatures around 3 or 4 in the morning it can be quite cold and I have to cover myself over with the duvet thing or a sarong.

Also they use a pressure cooker to cook the rice even though they are using wood fire to cook everything. The only seating is always outside and consists of a string day bed and two wood stools which I use as I can't easily get up from the day bed with those dodgey knees. My bed mattress was just a thin padded thing but on the fourth day my back ached so much I told them and they produced something a bit thicker but not great but at least my back felt better.

For the first three days I was given nothing to eat or drink in the morning before school but when the older girls came back they made me tea which is black a bit too sweet and spiced in the morning and in the afternoon. They make 'hooch' and sell it to locals as a source of income. Along with the pig meat and eventually the goat and sheep meat this will supplement their income. Nothing is wasted in this family and obviously having a pig helps to mop up any peelings etc. They peel potatoes with a small sickle but I did not offer to attempt this.

I met a teacher from a government school the day I lost my email at the Cyber cafe. He invited me to his home on Saturday which was great. It was cooler as it is brick/concrete and has a proper verandah. I stayed the day with his wife as he went off to do some Eco training after lunch. I had a lovely sleep on a good bed and it was cool. She put the fan on when the power came on and it was a very pleasant day. He collected me on his motorbike so I am now a fully trained pillion rider! They invited me again on Wednesday for dinner and I made Momo's with his wife - their names are Basu and Sarita. He also helps his local community by running a community bank where they pay in money and can take out loans.

I also met Rajan at the Festival the first week as he was sent over to tell me about the history and what was going on. We bumped into each other when I found out that the Eco Lodge has power all the time due to having solar panels and back up batteries. I can't do long emails on my Kindle but it was good to be able to go on line and do short emails and research stuff for school. Rajan took me to see a Homestay where he did some training on the back of his motorbike. They are set up in a eco-biodiversity area which is protected and intended for guests. It gave me the confidence to feed back to the organisation that placed me in Bardia that a few improvements should be done to my homestay.

A friend asked about bathing and maybe I slipped by that pump a little quickly in my last communication. We have one pump and everything is done there - personal washing, small amounts of clothes, vegetables are cleaned, all the dishes are washed there using ash from the fire, everyone rinses regularly due to the heat. With me it makes 6 of us sharing it and it is not private and one my bugs. Having said that pickup your dropped jaw as I am able to go the Jungle Lodge whenever I want (10 mins walk) to shower in one of the rooms and I did this every other day. If the pump had some screening I would have been happier!

Reflections on Kathmandu

Michelle writes:

Back to Pokhara. It's been a great 11 days. We're recovering, and tomorrow, we go to the world peace stupa. We'll take a boat across the lake, hike up 1 hour, have breakfast there, then hike and boat ride back.  It's been an amazing time, and I'm not sure I want to be back to civilization. I love the mountains and the people. Greg is a fellow traveler, and below is his take on Kathmandu.

Subject: Katmandu day 3 or 4 C
Walked through our area of Katmandu called Thamel, did a little shopping; our guide led us down this Main Street to a westerners market( where I bought a bottle of wine). On the way a couple of street urchins tried begging for us (4, maybe 5 yrs old, stumps for legs, filthy, persistent) then a much younger child (also with bad legs) crying and crawling across a busy street, oblivious of traffic. A woman (its mother?) came running from across the street to grab up the wastling as traffic came whizzing by. It was a disturbing event that left all of us gasping.

Later, back in batville Robin was......(oops, wrong story). We went by small beat up taxi to visit the Stupa of Boudhanath which is a giant whitewashed round temple imbedded with prayer wheels great and small that pilgrims come from everywhere (lots of Tibetans) to circumvent in a clockwise direction multiple times some prostrating themselves fully on the brick paved street. A marvelously diverse crowd full of crimson robed monks, little Nepali girls all dressed up and of course, the ubiquitous Nikon toting Japanese pseudo photographer tourist. Surrounding the scene were 3 and 4 story ancient buildings, all seemingly designed by a different architect every few feet where anything and everything was being sold. It was pretty different from Salina, Kansas.

Note to Gary....22oz beer is usually around 50 cents or less on a rooftop bar.

Later, toward dusk a group of around 20monks aged from 20 something to may be 190 (or at least looked liked it) gathered at this smaller temple at one end of the shrine and while some chanted, others playing Himalayan horns, still others playing drums, and one of the younger ones emptied bags of rice (think 100 lbs bags), smaller bags of popcorn, bags of several different types of candy bars, and other treats onto a huge, really huge pile while a guy in civilian clothes put the candy bars back into a different bag but left all the other stuff in the pile. Some other monk was getting some kind of liquid from an unrobed dude and was pouring it into what looked like a large brass candle holder. It was a pretty unique experience somewhat akin to picking a new pope (in other words, incomprehensible at least to me) it did seem to be highly orchestrated though.

Then there was the taxi ride back through the impossibly narrow, crowded streets ...only at night.
New York is pretty tame compared to this.

Got a 90 minute massage today for around 30 bucks; they started with washing my feet (which probably were pretty dirty).

Well yaw'll, we start trekking tomorrow. We take a bus ride (should take may be 8 hrs but could take 18......from what I understand here you never know). The trek takes around 12 days. We hike for 4-5 hours, take a break for lunch and rest (3 hours) then hike a few more hours. I think maybe 2 days of the trek are pretty light hiking but some are solid climbs. We are going to the Annapurna base camp at 13,800.

The guest houses and food are a mixed bag with some having pretty primitive conditions. When I ask the guide if there would be showers he said sometimes. When I asked about hot water I got the same answer.

This is my last email for awhile as we won't have Internet and I'm not taking my computer anyway.
My best to all,
Greg

Farming in Nepal

Michelle writes: I grew up in North Dakota, and farming is part of my heritage.  I find it fascinating how the peoples of the world feed themselves.

Here in Nepal, one sees terraced slopes everywhere. These, in late March, are still brown from winter...

...but slopes are greener in the lower elevations.

In Central and South America, they call it "The Three Sisters": corn, beans, and squash. Above is a field of corn and beans. I love the diversity of vegetation on the mountainside.

Now, before the rains begin, people start planting. This woman is getting an early start in her small backyard garden, scooping water from a bucket, nurturing her seedlings.

Even the flat land is bermed into beds. This one may be for rice.

Some of the harvested wheat is placed on the roadway for threshing. Pramila said this isn't a common practice because the quality of the wheat is diminished.

This is prime agricultural land outside Lumbini. Notice the mile marker in the foreground and the combine in the background. It was easy riding a bike here because it was flat and there was little traffic. 

Some of the cattle here have an attitude! This darker breed walk with their necks arched and noses in the air. They are territorial. We watched one walk right up and start ramming others with her head to lay claim to a watering hole.

This cow, neighbor to the yoga center, loves leftover chapatis. Complete with the tika on the forehead, she is a sacred cow. 

For the night, she is led into a ground level room in the home.

Happy New Year

Michelle writes:
I'm not sure what calendar they follow, and my Internet access is intermittent so I can't do some research, but I wanted to share my photos. New Year's Day was Sunday, April 14. On Friday, I was still in Pokhara when we were caught up in the parade. 

Notice the cow

On Sunday, Lorraine and I were in Lumbini for the night time celebration. Food booths from the local hotels and monasteries were selling at really inexpensive prices. 

This vendor was making lassi, hand-blending yogurt. We wanted to sample it, but worried about the quality of water used for the ice.

Green AstroTurf ran down Main Street, and lights were strung precariously overhead, while music blasted from a PA system set on a stage. After dark, dancing commenced. Tourists and locals alike enjoyed the festivities.

Sadhana Yoga in Pokhara

Mud bath at Sadhana--a great exfoliant!

Travelers from around the world

Steam bath (I'm sitting on a stool). You can see the propane tank behind me heating the water.

Karma yoga - being of service. 

Working in the kitchen, always potatoes to peel, onions to chop. Made momos one day, like wontons, little stuffed pockets. Glad we had a group, because they were very time-consuming to make.

Some of us rented boats and went out on the lake. We went swimming when we got out away from the dirty shoreline which was full of typical trash, but not as bad as some places.

Hiked to the top of a close peak to catch the sunrise over the Annapurna range (taxi took us most of the way)

Views of Kathmandu

Michelle writes: 
I took a taxi into Kathmandu from the yoga center outside town. The driver's English was very good. Kathmandu has doubled in size over the last 10 years. The pollution has increased, and resources are stretched. Apparently, electricity and water aren't as reliable as I have witnessed, mostly with electricity, as it is off portions of the day. 

Recently there was a woman's festival, where the ladies wear red saris and dance in the streets, creating traffic issues. The taxis have a difficult time driving to the airport at times like this, so the rickshaws do well and get paid well. Then the rickshaw drivers drink up their profits by consuming homemade liquor. My taxi driver said he also makes "roxi" (the wine), but only drinks after work. Here, drinking and driving is increasing, but there is little tolerance. If one is stopped and given a breath test, any amount of alcohol results in punishment. 

My cabby paid 900 rupees 10 years ago for an apartment. Now, it's 3000 rupees. As we were walking in the countryside by the yoga center, we could see new apartment complexes. The cabby said they are for people with money who work in the city and have motorbikes. Urban sprawl!  We talked with a local man from the village who accompanied Caroline and me so he could practice his English. He said the neighborhood is changing, and they aren't happy. Sounds familiar. The yoga center guy wouldn't even address the issue, just shook his head, in that yes/no way they do.
Tourists abound this time of year. Tthe amazing thing is that most are here for months: 1 to 3 to 6 is very common. A lot are volunteers, trekkers, travelers--people in their 20s or 30s and then like me in their 50s. Here in Kathmandu and Pokhara, many languages are heard as you walk the streets. It's always good to hear someone speaking American English!

This is a bamboo scaffold. These guys are great climbers, balancing and using ropes secured at the knobs of the bamboo so as not to slide down. The yoga center is expanding, and more rooms are added, but it's a very slow process. A hard-working woman of a lower caste was carrying all the sand and concrete in a basket supported by a head strap.