Postcard from Michelle

Swayambhunath Stupa, Nepal

Known popularly as "The Monkey Temple"

Michelle writes: 

Last day in Nepal...sad to leave. It's been great: great people and food. Annapurna trek was definitely the highlight...seeing beautiful landscapes and industrious people. They live close to the earth, although tourism--especially trekking--is changing the rural landscape. Farms are being abandoned, as the money is more lucrative with trekkers. The higher up the mountain, the higher the prices. Pony freight is costly (ha ha). A hot shower and a bed thicker than two inches of cotton batt will be greatly appreciated.  Was at this Monkey Temple yesterday. One of the buggers grabbed my arm--Eeek!

Eating on Pangkor Island

Michelle writes from Pangkor Island, Malaysia: 

Roti stuffed with egg and onion. 

Pancakes with dollop of creamed corn.  

Banana pancake cooked in banana leaf.

Hornbill dining on spilled junk food.

ABC, the best cold snack, shaved ice with pinto beans, cream corn, crystallized ginger, jello, chocolate syrup, coconut, lychees, jello chunks and more! 

Sitting on the balcony looking for treats, at the coffee shop in the lobby. Someone had left out a glass with juice.

Volunteer

Michelle writes:
After great volunteer experiences in Guatemala, I was excited to connect with the Nepali people on more of a community level. To some degree, this had been the case on the trek, staying at tea houses and having a guide provide cultural education. On the trek, we had a daily agenda: hit the trail around 7 after a healthy breakfast of Dal bhatt, lentil soup, rice, sautéed veggies, and " pickle" (a zippy relish). No shortage of food here: 2-3 helpings of any of these tasties was to fill you with the needed level of carbohydrates to power you up the mountainside.
At the farm, there were not many expectations from the hosts, as they receive some renumeration in addition to our labor. We had come prepared to pitch in. I was excited to be at a permaculture site and hoped to garner some new gems of wisdom.
Another rustic location: hard cotton mattress, equally hard pillow, the room did have electricity and big windows. Bathroom outside in a tin topped shack, a single holer Turkish squatter with no receptacle for TP (who uses that?). Scoop and rinse water provided in a bucket you refilled out back from a black plastic drum. Shower down a path of shifting bricks. Once again a scoop and water bucket you'd fill out back. Glad I had my shower sandals! To wash my hair, I used the spigot with fresh spring water at the community faucet. This water we also drank, unsure at first, but no ramifications. Sure was nice to be able to put a toothbrush under the tap! 

The first day, we picked plums, lots of plums. Like any any fruit, it typically ripens at the same time as does the neighbors. So hearing that they only get around .25 USD for a kilo, I thought I'd employ my farm girl approach--drying, canning, preserving mentality. Then the realities of a Nepali kitchen manifested themselves.
Hygiene here is a much different concept! This rural kitchen had all the best! Brown washed floors, stove, sink area--that is, brown washed as in dung/soil mix freshly painted on all surfaces on a weekly or more frequent basis. This keeps the insects down, as they are not attracted to the dung mix. Strange, most cowpies I've witnessed were covered with flies, I guess that is if it was fresh! Not this mix though, only a dozen or so flies were visible at any given time. Needless to say you don't use the counter top directly for food prep. Big, flat woven baskets serve as the work surface for food prep.
Plums! Large metal bowls with water to wash, as there is no sink basin per se.  Then put them whole in to a kettle. Vishnu promptly lit the stove--think wood stove, middle of the day, small vent to outdoors, hot and humid tropical climate, windows that didn't open for cross ventilation--got the picture? So we got one pot going. Then with another bowl of washed fruit, we started pit removal. Chicago cutlery it is not! A gal, Moran from Israel, had brought a knife with her, a coveted item in this kitchen during her stay, since it actually had a sharp blade.

A boiling cauldron of sticky plums scented the kitchen. The others wondered what my intentions were. I had thought of fruit leather, since they dry everything here in the sun.

I'm including this picture for you of drying wild spinach and fiddlehead fern fronds on the rooftop or sidewalk. It works until it starts to rain. Spinach processing: pick in the wild, carry back in large baskets suspended by strap from crown of head, boil, pound the stem with a rock, then pull the stems apart to break down its tough, stringy nature, place on plastic sheeting, rooftops or other surface safe from dogs, chickens, wandering ponies, goats and cows. I couldn't think of a surface appropriate for pulpy fruit leather, so placed the plum pulp in a plastic grid basket, squished it through removing pits and peel. Made chutney with some by adding fresh red chili pepper that had been crushed with mortar and pestle. It was great-- fruity with a kick, a nice addition to beans and rice. For another batch, I added sugar and made a jam for chapatis. The volunteers were more interested in eating these than the hosts; it was not part of their diet.

I made a cobbler with the pitted plums. The white flour crust was more like dough drops of heavy glue. My oven idea hadn't worked so well. I tried to simulate Dutch oven cooking from my many river trips. We placed a metal plate on the kettle and filled it with glowing wood coals from the fire to create heat on top. An hour later, the dumpling like topping was not fluffy or thoroughly cooked, but it was edible and we enjoyed it nonetheless.

Momo making, no simple task: rollout the dough, spoon on vegetable mixture, then pinch shut, steam. A fun group activity! Notice the bamboo basket with dough disks, and Vishnu enjoying the spotlight.
No other activities were planned for the volunteers, so the following day we hiked up the road to Namo Buddha.
The only planned activity each day was yoga with Andres from Columbia - Spain - most recently India. Life is pretty casual here. Not much of an agenda, at least by western standards!

Organic Farming

Michelle writes:
I had an interesting day, as we went to visit an organic farm owned by an American couple.
We asked Mithu, our home stay mother, how to get to the farm. As we looked across the valley, she said, "See the white house, there's a brown one, then see the one with the blue window in the lower corner, up the hill to the one with the round window." We never did spot the round window, but had the general idea as we set out.
Down the narrow winding road we walked, our hearts racing as we rounded corners with 50-75 foot drops. Trucks honked as they flew around the same corners spewing their diesel fumes.  We greeted passersby with "Namaste."

We came to a sign: "everything organic nursery," a 10-minute walk uphill or 2 km, then right 1 km. Opting for the uphill, we set off, winding up the steep slope past the waterways, concrete culverts for the monsoon season. Trail led into trail--which to take?  Uphill, the sign had said! Entering people's yards, I would ask, "organic farm?" The elderly woman would indicate with her hand and a smile "up and around." Onward, past the goats and cows, more terraces. At the next house, I asked the same question. "Up and around" came the response. They are so helpful and friendly! (Loving the Nepali people.) Came across women bathing at a water tap. "Organic farm?" Finally, someone spoke English and indicated down and around.  We had come too far up the hillside and needed to drop down to the main trail. "Where are you from?" she asked as we walked on. "America," I responded. There are more Europeans than American travelers here in Nepal, because it's a shorter flight.

Sure enough, down around the bend there was a main trail that a motorbike could navigate. We could see the "more western" stone house, complete with solar panels and nice large windows. We walked by the bleating goat, our landmark. The incessant wail had caught my attention earlier; I wondered what was causing so much discomfort--separation from his buddies, I guess.

Three men greeted us as we arrived at the nursery. One understood English. I explained that we were volunteering at Hasera and had come to see the farm. He went to get Roshan, the outreach in chrage (that's the title from his business card; spelling here is interesting). 

Roshan, a delightful man, gave us the grand tour as Jim had gone back to California  recently and Judy went to Kathmandu for the day. They are in their 70s and have lived in Nepal for 35+ years, returned to the states for 5, but then came back 3 years ago to start this nursery. Wow, impressive what they have done in 3 years, with the help of 12 Nepali gardeners. A mix of trees, shrubs and forbs, beautifully landscaped terraces, color abounding. Everything labeled, genus and species, common name, country of origin, appealing to the western mind.

 
 

They had originally focused on vegetable varieties not common to Nepal. Now with one full time grafter, they are experimenting with fruit and nut trees from around the world. They are looking to develop a new niche in the agricultural market. Almond trees from many countries are being tested. Farmers wanting to take a risk can buy young almond trees hoping for a big payoff down the road. The nursery does offer free classes and workshops. Almonds are very expensive here and could yield a great return in this lush agricultural environment. 

We were given samples of raspberries and cherry tomatoes as we wandered around looking at almond, kiwi, grape, strawberry, blackberry, peach, pear, cherry, apple, asparagus, many varieties of squash, purple peppers, and herbs. They are experimenting with various methods of pest control, some working better than others.

They invited us to join them for their mid-day meal: milk tea, garbanzo bean curry with rice, and a snack item of dried noodles, peas, with spices. Starchy food is plentiful here! Where's the beano?
We had an easy walk back, and stopped for a cold soda along the roadway. 25 cents for a 7-Up in a well-worn reusable glass bottle. Life moves at a slower pace here in the heat. Walking and resting make the day enjoyable as one goes about one's business!

Annapurna Trek

Michelle writes:

We started the trek on May 6. Left at 7:15 am amidst the choir of cicadas and birds singing their morning songs. Around 80 degrees, cloud wisps clinging to the top of the hills, as the mountains here are anything over 16,500 feet. There are 14 peaks over 8000 meters (or 26,300 feet) in the world and 8 of those 14 are in Nepal.

Following a stream  of crystal clear, glacier-fed water, we walk along a well-worn path traveled by trekkers, local folk, and ponies carrying supplies. This is part of the Annapurna conservation area, so all trekkers are required to have a permit, paying the fee to maintain and preserve this region in the middle of Nepal. I was expecting less, not a developed 3-abreast limestone walk. This particular stretch is heavily used by those on the 21-day circuit as well as those having only a day to catch a closer glimpse of these impressive peaks. We are out for 10-12 days.  It's easily accessible from Kathmandu, a 6-7 hour bus ride to Pokhara, then a 1.5 hour taxi ride to the end of the navigable road (by car). Motorbikes can go a bit farther.

A verdant landscape surrounds us. Warm, perfect temperatures this morning, as I recall the snow and cold I left back in the States one month ago. With hiking poles and knee brace, I'm prepared for an assault, and here I have a walk in the park (but I'm not complaining). I am accompanied by Greg, a friend I met in Colorado while working at the YMCA. Greg's a fellow hiker and outdoorsman who also was interested in the Himalayan treks. Sujan, our guide, also works with the volunteer agency I've lined up for after the trek. He is a part-time guide, and after contacting his references, I felt it was a wise choice to have a knowledgeable local navigate. Bibek, the porter, in his later 30s, speaks very little English but smiles all the time! 

As we start out, it seems to be one village after another, with little shops with the same junk food: potato chips, crackers, Coke, catering to Western tastes...

 ...but swinging wooden suspension foot bridges,

log sections used for a bee hives,

fields being plowed by water buffalo or cattle,

and loads being carried in woven baskets suspended from the heads of these strong, agile people are the real world here. 

Gurkha

Michelle writes:
Just was given the label off the Gurkha beer bottle we had been drinking here at happy hour. The waiter is Gurkha, the mighty fighters employed by the British army! He showed me on Google maps where he's from and proudly told me of walking 1 hour to school, 2 hours during monsoon season. Here, children eat dal bhatt in the morning, walk to school which starts at 10, attend until 5, then walk home! No buses in the mountains. No school lunch, just a hearty dal bhatt meal twice a day.