BHUTAN/NEPAL 1 of 2
BHUTAN/NEPAL TRIP - April 4-26, 2009
SATURDAY, 4/4/09: FRANTIC through the whole morning and early afternoon. [Notes on ANOTHER card!] Lunch, stomach feeling cramped, 1:40-2:10, and then shower to 2:35, powdering and deodorizing, shutting OFF then UNPLUGGING the computer, putting away the dishes I washed after lunch, deciding that the apples will keep if put in a plastic bag in the refrigerator, because I SURE don't feel like eating one or both now. Finishing up in my underwear, deciding to stuff two more T-shirts into my black bag, and the phone rings at 2:50 saying he's downstairs. I say he's early, and the dispatcher says that's OK. Get out at the DOT of 3PM, mailing two letters, and letting the Egyptian driver put my black bag in the back trunk, which he has to stop on the highway to CLOSE! VERY much traffic, and he goes on and off highways onto side streets and back into traffic, talking all the time, almost un-understandably, about his adventures driving a taxi, "just as bad in New York as in Napoli or Cairo." He was impressed that I had just been in Egypt. Finally get to the airport, Jet Airways listed at Terminal 8, along with American Airlines. Attendant checks my flight only through my passport, and I get to an older woman at a Jet Airways desk who says she can get me TWO window seats, until a spoil-sport says that's not possible on the Brussels-New Delhi leg, and I get a terrible 14F, right in the middle at the bulkhead, but she suggests maybe I can get someone to switch with me. But for the first leg I'm in 24K, which I HOPE is in back of the wing, even though it's on the right side. Onto security line at 4:05, having to SQUEEZE my black bag into the container to prove it will fit into the overhead compartment, but I think the only thing I squeezed were the last two T-shirts. Then take off my shoes and jacket, take out my liquids and my laptop, and get stopped by my keys. Past security by 4:15, desperate for a pee, and find a place off to the side where I sit down and transfer MUCH of the bulk from my shoulder bag into my black bag (at the sides, where it won't add to the height). Even have enough room to put my JACKET into the shoulder bag. Put lots of stuff, including my boarding pass for the second leg, into the FRONT of my shoulder bag (and I hope that typing this will help me remember where I put it). Catch up with this at 4:43, pass says boarding starts at 5PM! Board at 5:29 right AT wing trailing edge. 7:20 flight announced. At 6:27: "20 planes ahead; 30-45 minutes to takeoff!" 6:48: "Looks to be about 18 ahead." 7:06: "Off in about 35 minutes." I keep working on simple crosswords from book, hoping to finish it off and throw it away. Off at 7:20, into clouds at 7:32. Start Curious Case of Benjamin Button at 7:40, 160 minutes long. It's over at 10:30, a very minor piece indeed. 3:40 to go. Pee 3-4 times and try Actualism and counting backward from 100 2-3 times, and look at watch at 11:10PM. Look at watch at 12:13, no sign of light outside.
SUNDAY, 4/5/09: Change watch to 6:34AM, 2 hours to go. Coffee starting to be served. Lightening out by 7AM. Land at 8:07AM. Off at 8:19, feeling slightly "off." Pee. Through SECOND security 8:29, and to gate 33 at 8:44. No hope of window seat: plane is full, full, full. Rows called at 9:30, board 9:45 and PLEAD for window. Full. 10AM seat, right in middle. 7:25 flight announced. Off 10:25. I'd KILL for a window and they insist that ALL shades be drawn so people can watch TV. Look at map to see we're flying over Prague, Istanbul, the Black Sea, great-named cities, Caspian Sea, Isfahan, legendary names in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and finally over India, still all shades pulled, though people who DID look said it was MOSTLY cloudy below. Start Australia at 10:46. Get AM pills and red wine at 11:38AM with a good lunch, over at 12:33PM (4:33PM Delhi time). Try to shit, and wash face. Start Changeling at 2PM. At 4:20PM it starts to get dark; I change watch to 8:19PM. Speed through Slumdog Millionaire to 8:49 and start Jodhaa Akbar, HUGE movie, maybe I can finish it later from Netflix. TV off at 9:19, and land at 9:47. Plane to bus at 10:03PM. In and through, getting the name of Hotel IBIS from Gloria, and meeting Nazim that I transpose to Nizam (of Hyderabad). Pee to 10:20. Finish last of 90 Quinn's Quality Crosswords (too easy) by 10:29. To parking lot to wait for bus at 10:44. On bus 10:56. We leave at 3:30AM tomorrow! 2:45AM wake-up call. Pass HUGE green Shiva statue. Pay STATE bus tax to enter Haryana, taking MUCH time. Standalone Indian mansions as in Guyana. GET to Ibis at 11:40PM! Bed at 12, exhausted!
MONDAY, 4/6/09: 12:05-12:08AM take NIGHT pills and Diamox. Dream. Phone rings (no answer, so DID it?) at 2:35AM. Dress to 2:54. Good breakfast and banana, on bus 3:30. DOMESTIC airport at 3:58, NOT close to hotel! 4:18: security: "Many pills, magazines." Yes! Through at 4:22. 5:45 gate is told. On bus to plane 5:54. Board at trailing edge of wing 6:09. #1 Kingfisher (beer) plane 6:12AM. 2-hour flight to Kolkotta. Lots of DAWS on fields! Off 6:54. VERY little green: dry! Small hills, dry river beds, a "sacred" rock with road around it, and carvings at 5-6 points on base. VERY few highways, much greener in east. Palm trees, land 8:53. 29 degrees! In to find guy waiting with an OAT sign who says that I should wait until others get their luggage and we'll all go to Druk Airlines at the same time. Leave at 8:43 and dash outside, following this guy, past many buildings and people and roads at a hot run and up to Druk line at 8:52 (the 2-3 minute walk turning into a 9-minute run that we never would have found had we not been led!). I admire the award, and body, of a body-building award-winner. WAIT at entry to x-ray machine as they tear bags apart inside, I worrying about sign saying ONLY ONE carry-on is permitted, not to mention my carrying of water and other liquids. Finally I put my stuff on and it goes through without a question. Sit and wait as other flights leave, and finally we're announced and troop down to bus at 9:26, which goes immediately. Onto plane so cool that the ceiling vents emit jets of cold steam at 9:29, and Ed suggests I just SIT in the window seat and see what happens. HE gets the wife, and I get the husband who INSISTS on the window, but says I can look out and photo as I wish. Take GREAT flight magazine as 50-minute flight is announced. Off at 9:53AM and land at 10:43, time changed to 11:13, after flight over mostly clouds, then haze over brown farmlands with few villages and fewer water sources, until we can see snowcapped peaks in distance, which pilot INSISTS on obscuring with the wingtip JUST as I get them in focus. The eye is SO much better than the camera for such things. TRY for a number of pictures, erasing some, but keeping some that I hope will remind me of the excitement of coming down, through clouds, to snow-rimmed mountains over lush forests, some few buildings in the distinctive Bhutanese style, until I just TURN the camera on to film the landing, showing valleys filled with houses, some distant glaciers, closer fortresses that whiz past the window as I get the impression we're landing on the MAIN street of Paro, Bhutan. Off to gasp at the beauty of the airport buildings and surroundings, taking maybe a dozen pictures, noting that EVERYONE is smiling, and then into the immigration building to four lines, which I change once, and then get to the counter to find we need some kind of paper, though I keep insisting that we HAVE no visas, we're to pay $48 for them HERE, but they still say we have to have some kind of basic PERMIT [which, much later, I FIND at the back of other papers from OAT!]. Gloria and Ed have passed through their line to "go to the back to buy their visas," and a magical piece of paper appears, every bit as official as that which every other group has in their hands, with our five names on it! Pass and go through to try to find Gloria and Ed, to see David at an EXIT with a sign for OAT, and we're just to go to our VEHICLE. Look for the others, and tall handsome Phub Dorji introduces himself and says we'll pay later. Leave at 12:12PM, and car goes to 12:17 to a restaurant he later says is called Jigmi Ling, where we have soup of some bean or lentil origin, then a buffet of red rice, vegetables, un-chewable beef roulade, decent pork, something Dorji calls bittergut, which lives up to its name, and we sit in the restaurant, marveling at a nearby table of about fifteen that is QUIET, and then we're served watermelon for dessert, and tea with milk and lots of sugar. Then, since he knows we're tired, we're into the car and up the hill to a beautiful building that I'm about to ask Dori to identify, when we round the corner and it's the Olathang Hotel, established in 1974, the oldest hotel in town, and OUR hotel for the next two nights. In to room 320, climbing three flights of stairs followed by a squat maid with my bag on her shoulders, and give her $1 at 1:24PM, having put in a wake-up call for 4:15, since Dorji said we should meet downstairs for a meeting at 4:30. I undress and fall into bed at 1:30 and wake only at 4:15, feeling somewhat better, though it's AGONY getting up. Phone rings AGAIN at 4:28 for me and David, just on our way down. To sales area 4:40-5:05 about OAT International, then points about the trip to 5:35, hotel crackers with tea to 6:46 in a dimly lit room, then dinner, eating not that much, but beef is tenderer and there's a nice warm apple tart for dessert. Dinner to 7:40PM. [Tomorrow wake-up at 6AM, leave at 7, carry umbrella.] Had to flush hard turd THREE times to get it down at 7:55. Take ENDLESS pills! Camera times for 4/6: 1:42AM = 6:12AM in India [4.5 hours' difference]. 12:35PM = 5:35PM in Bhutan [5 hours' difference]. Review photos and set time to 8:40PM. Bed at 8:45PM. Never ANY trouble getting to sleep these early days.
TUESDAY, 4/7/09: 1:11AM: Wake at 1:01AM and get up to pee, feeling rested but still slightly panting, with heart pounding, and type two fragments as DREAMS:4/7/09, then go to pee, to find the water brown and a piece of last night's turd still in the bowels of the weak-flushing machine. Put Vicks up my dry nose and take a few gulps of water and type this to 1:13AM, knowing I have a lot to catch up with here, after I catch up with sleep! "Phantom" phone rings at 2:47AM. Pee at 4:42. Up 5:55. Get call at 5:58. Shower to 6:19. Breakfast 6:30-6:45, with loud Germans. Leave 7:04AM. Start hike at 7:17 to Tiger's Nest. Harder and harder climb, lots of people passing, lots of people on horse- or mule-back, some good views over the valley below and the monasteries above, glad that the weather is about perfect for climbing: clear, not too cool, not too warm. Didn't record when I sat with relief in the restaurant observation point (see photos), but it was about 8:45AM, after a grueling hour-and-a-half climb. Tea and crackers. Hear what I first think to be recorded music and go inside to find Dorji on the telescoping horn leading three or four others on instruments, and film them. Lots of photos, including birds at feeders, and various cloud formations around Tiger's Nest, and an enlarged photo where Dorji shows us the door that leads directly to the original cave. He talks to us when many leave at 9:30: Padma Sambava, predicted by the Buddha to be more powerful than he was, comes to Bhutan in 746AD. He treats the Bhutanese king of the time for an illness and becomes famous. He comes here, with his wife, who transforms into a flying tigress who carries him to his cave on the hillside. We start down at 9:50, feeling hotter, my knees definitely giving out, until JUST in sight of the bottom I simply can't control them and they start to buckle, which everyone notices, and they rush to my assistance. I try to sit on a rock but fall short, sitting in the dirt, my knees simply not able to support me. Sit in embarrassment and get up for the driver to wipe the back of my pants, tut-tutting. Down at 10:50, an hour exactly, and I even short-sit the seat in the back of the car, having to make a second try to attain my seat in UTTER exhaustion. David's in pretty poor shape, too, but Carolyn keeps praising her health, while Gloria leaps down the hill like a puppy showing off, and Ed seems to be doing pretty well for 70. Well, we did it, but I'm glad I didn't know THEN how much I'd be affected for the next six days (at LEAST) with TOTALLY wobbly knees walking up and down stairs, the agony moving from the knee joint to the tops of the thighs. Gloria offers me one, then another, ibuprofen, saying I should have taken one the night before! We drive to the OLDEST temple at 11:13: Kichu Lakam, built in 659AD. To 11:42, to town for lunch at a place Dorji later named Samten Norzim. Same sort of food 12:01-12:38PM, this time with much louder people, belying last night's TV report that the Paro festival was much under-attended this year because of the world's financial condition. GOOD noodles, which "Mama" Carolyn brings me more of. Melon and watermelon dessert again. Drink LOTS of very milky, very sweet tea, and lots of water. Out of car to walk to festival area at 12:42, standing right behind line where police pass and make everyone sit down in front. An abbot watches from a white-framed window, musicians and officials sit off in the shade to the right, and the VERY colorful masses sit in ranks to the left. First dance brief, then ten or so women just sashay back and forth with their backs to the audience [which Dorji simply says is their tradition], and then there's the famous "deer dance" with many masks and athletic bodies with bare feet going through stylized dipping and weaving in circles, and I’m getting---I hope---lots of good video. Then an ENDLESS story of two princesses wooed by two princes, with two old guards who have their noses cut off and put back on, and three devils who constantly make trouble, get beaten, and roll on the ground in agony. Dorji says these are THE experts, the oldest clowns, one so old he stayed in bed all year and then got up and PERFORMED to the max during the festival. Hot in the sun; I'm sorry to be wearing my beret and not my sun hat. See David and Ed and the driver also taking pictures nearby, entranced by the scene, but the "story," even translated into English, goes ON and ON, even as the audience laughs at the fucking and the brandishing of the phallus, so when David taps me on the shoulder at 2:40 and asks if I've had enough, I say yes. Find the others and get to the fortress, built in 1676, but some parts new. 3:11 into temple, shoes off, no photos, butter sculptures, sacred Buddhas, silk hangings, old temperas covered with drapes to protect them from the sun; I lift and they're not special. I say that we're out at 3:24 but it MUST have been longer. To car at 3:38, just as it starts to pour rain, soaking these elaborate costumes that are NOT washable, made with non-colorfast vegetable dyes. [Dinner at 6:30PM, 7:30AM breakfast, 8:30 leave, 8AM bag ready IN room for departure.] To room EXHAUSTED at 3:48PM. Nap 4:03-6:05, to wake-up call with NO problem, and get up at 6:14PM WEARY. Down to dinner 6:28-7:30, David late, not hearing phone, Gloria goes up to get him; Dorji joins us (having to get room in town) just to talk to us. I watch TV to 8:30 just to stay up, and get to bed at 8:36. Wake at 10:10, mouth rotten with almost-reflux. Easily back to sleep.
WEDNESDAY, 4/8/09: Up at 12:55, MYMPTHS quite strongly for 5-10 seconds at 12:55AM. Type DREAMS:4/8/09, pee, and take two aspirin for sore thighs. Type another dream at 2:30. Put sunscreen and Deet into bag, as I write on note. Bed at 2:45. 4:28AM sex-filled dreams. Pee and take a Diamox at 4:40 that I forgot yesterday. Wake at 5:59 and up at 6:26. Shit a bit. [With relief start transcribing note 4 at 7:14AM, catching up at last, though note 4 is just about full.] Photo park from wonderful Hotel Olathang at 6:55AM. Call at 6:59, type to 7:22. Good breakfast (fried egg, bacon/ham, French toast mistaken for regular toast, good rice gruel with tasty local honey, more watermelon, lots of tea) 7:30-8:10, David having eaten earlier. Wander and photo. Lots of trucks and busses and tourists coming and going. Clowns yesterday called Atsaras by Bhutanese. River is Pachu: Chu = River, Pa = short for Paro. To museum at 9AM, building from 1649 as fortress tower guarding main fortress below. Extraordinary "Buddhism tree" at top honors four sects: 1) Sakya, Buddha's actual lineage, now only in small parts of Tibet and Nepal. 2) Padma Sambava's sect: he was born of a LOTUS, found in the fields, raised as a god, started sect now in Bhutan since 746, known also as Guru Rimpoche. 3) Gelugpa, yellow hat, now in Tibet, ruled by Dalai Lama. 4) Drugpa, official Buddhism of Nepal---the founder of Bhutan followed this sect and established it in Bhutan. Pee to 10:20. Car goes at 10:27. Huge stamp collection, many tankas, lots of weapons, bronzes, wealth room, implements and ornaments and stonework from the deep past and farm tools from the present, up and down and around MANY steps. Car goes at 10:27, when Dorji gives me the names of our two lunch places. Bittergut is a bitter vegetable, good for high blood pressure. Long stop on the main street waiting for a plane to take off, which it does at 10:52. We move at 10:53. #200 from road completed LAST YEAR between Paro and Thimpu, at 11:39AM. Ziman Simtokha from 1629 was first fortress. Photo site of future 164-foot Buddha, highest bronze in world, due to finish next year, with meditation rooms in upper arms! Dried cheese pieces are chugo, which I chew for an hour and can't get through, and take rest for souvenirs. Fishy to start, VERY long to flake off in cheesy flakes. 108 stupas at 10,000-foot pass, commemorating 108 men killed in battle against Tibet long ago. The temple on the hill was erected by Queen Mother. Lunch place at 1:15, more tortuous stairs, good soup, tough pork, some decent vegetables, strangely convoluted watermelon; cow-butter tea milder than yak-butter tea. At Dochula Cafeteria to 1:51. I'm feeling altitude. Kunker Punsim, at 7239 meters, highest unclimbed mountain, partly visible from where we are, clear in photo Dorji brings out from dining hall. To Punakha fortress in Wangdue from 1639 from 4:04, third in country. Out at 4:45, taking photos, tired, then 20 minutes in old Wangdue, due to move entirely to forestall its sliding down the cliff during an earthquake catastrophe, and push past GRASPING kids to car at 5:06. To room 109 at 5:25 in Dragon Nest Resort. Shit---on rose-lilac paper---looks awful, to 5:45. Stop banging window to 6:28. Dinner with Carolyn demanding to treat group to beer or wine after Dorji tells us HE has gotten a cake, card, and gift, and beer for after, but we can't say anything to her. Dinner is rather the same, dry pork like jerk beef, mushroom soup with bits of mushroom good to start, and then at the end out comes a wonderful birthday cake with two candles, a 6 and a 7, which is a pity, since this is only her 66th birthday, but she's very pleased with it, her Bhutan T-shirt, and a card that Dorji's written, somehow, from all of us, and then out come two two-liter bottles of 1100 beer, brewed in Bhutan, which four of us---Gloria, Ed, the driver who joins in for the party, and Dorji---have none of; leaving me and David and Carolyn to kill off the two bottles, which we do handily, since David has very little. Then Dorji sits us down with our years of birth and tells us our characteristics, with mine in parentheses afterward: creature (rat, all same as Chinese), element (fire, to which Bhutan adds iron for five), color (red, ruled by heart, as are iron and earth, while brain rules wood and water), number (1, good, only 2 poorest and 5 spiritual/teacher), life line (not stable), health (stable), confidence (good), luck (excellent), mind peacefulness (poor, to which I laugh and say that I'm always searching, searching, searching), Tuesday is my good day, Friday and Monday are bad for surgery and diagnosis. This goes to 8PM, my thighs killing me; I partly unpack to 8:30, read the magazine and book review of the Times, and get to bed at 9PM.
THURSDAY, 4/9/09: 12:15AM pee and type DREAMS:4/9/09 and take two aspirin. Up at 6AM, shower to 6:30, fairly nicely with large towel and lots of hot water when it starts, type from 6:25 to 7AM knock on door, to breakfast 7:35-8:05 of good omelet, sausage, melon, beans, tea, and toast. They talk about David's adopted Vietnamese son turning gay at 30, and I "out" myself by saying I knew when I was five. It seems not to affect anyone. We start off in car at 8:33AM to go to a bird sanctuary to try to find Casqued Hornbills and monkeys. Stop to photo three gray langurs in the trees right at the edge of the road, sadly black as silhouetted against the sky at 9:10. Pass enormous workings for a series of three dams on the Puna Chang Chu (Punakha Big River), which will furnish (if I remember right) 10 million kWhs, much of which will be sold to India to help finance this wonderfully paternalistic country where the 53-year-old king abdicated for his 29-year-old son to rule, giving everyone land and money and education and health care, trying to keep the national population at its current 700,000 so that such care can continue. Take photo of a distant golden oriole, which I hope can be enlarged, but I'm too lazy now to look at the photos: save them all for later for total evaluation of the final set. Start walk at 9:39, woods wonderfully quiet except for the frog-like sounds that Dorji insists come from birds. Glimpse tiny flycatchers in a nearby tree, almost too small to see, much less manage a photo of; lots of insects that Dorji assured us were harmless that left me two red, itchy spots on and below my left little finger; an enormous iridescent blue butterfly that would tantalizingly alight for a second before taking off again and again until disappearing from sight, along with a number of plain yellow and white companions, and finally, at a great distance, playing among three tree trunks, three or four little brown monkeys as animated black splotches silhouetted for instants between trunks, too quick to snap. Leave at 10:58 and stop at 11:35 at the intersection of the Pochu (from lava, male, on right) and the Mochu (from lakes, female, on left) joining for the Puna Chang Chu at the foot of the Punakha Fortress, one of the most beautiful, part of which was washed away in a recent river flooding from overflowing lakes. Into fortress at 11:50, shoes off, no photos, a "piece of Paradise" as dreamed by the architect, who slept the night before designing it in the building now next to it. Best room was the enormous Kuenrey, the main prayer hall, a KNOCKOUT of clay Buddhas, silken garments, elaborate carved backgrounds, Chinese silk hangings, cabinets of sutras, walls of paintings, columns displaying tankas, silk-screened canopies, tiers of painted Buddhas on the second- and third-floor walls, monks' benches covered in red felt, the king's throne and the abbot's throne for public ceremonies, and all, as Gloria observed, spotlessly clean. Leave temple at 12:19PM, and into another for Buddha's life to 12:42. To car 12:51 over the bridge again, observing the group of Indians who come simply to enjoy the icy coldness of the Mochu. Tired! To Country Restaurant upstairs after pee downstairs at 1:15, up exhausting stairs. Lunch to 1:45 of tasty eggplant "chips," overcooked and crisp, getting a second batch when they refill the container, and settling for some of the most tender beef yet. Wait at the end for a tiny banana for dessert. Start walk to final temple of day across rice paddies, walking on the narrow ledges between them, at 1:57, getting to top at 2:20 to rest under yet another pipal-enlightenment tree offshoot before taking shoes off to enter temple with kids reciting their lessons to many listeners. Then to inner temple of the Mad Saint, who chased a demon---in the form of a dog---into the temple to kill it, seduced his own mother, and did other crazy things without being punished---because he was enlightened. Wait for the monk to stop intoning (and yawning) and tending to a married couple with a baby they got by coming here, to sprinkle water and rice on some prayer flags that Dorji brought to hang up tomorrow to show us how it's done. Start down at 2:46, pausing when it begins raining, but it stops and we continue down to the Farmhouse at 3PM, seeing the old-new kitchen, the living room, the guest room, and the personal altar-room with photographable butter sculptures on the altar. She was gracious and accepted any number of pictures. Then down to the living room, where we five sat on sofas while Dorji and driver served up puffed rice, puffed corn (almost as hard as dried cheese), and another puffed dish with some black schmutz mixed in, with cow-butter tea and finally rice wine, about 50 proof, of which the driver ("He's trying to get you drunk," said Dorji, smiling widely, I think unknowing of my being gay and the driver's being [?] gay---but who knows: he MAY know!) pours me about half a cup, and we leave at 3:50. To car 4PM, groaning. Dorji tells me again that the luxuriantly needled pine is called a tropical pine. To room at 4:21 as driver miraculously presents me with my room key, obviating my need to go DOWN the steps to reception to pick it up and then UP the steps to my room! He warm-handed me a number of times up and down steps and around hard places in the rice paddies, so maybe he DOES like me? Remove clothes, pee, and lie down at 4:28. Look at watch at 5:29 and up at 5:55, reluctantly. Stagger around to 6:08, type to 6:30, and down---last, as usual---to dinner, for a longish wait for the buffet to be ready, Dorji announcing 7:30AM breakfast and 8:30 departure tomorrow---with no stated "luggage ready" time. Dine with good beef and mushrooms, crisp papadum followed by buttery naan, decent vegetables, avoided fish, and papaya and banana for dessert, passing up a final tea. We talk of my apartment, Ed's lots-of-things, more Bhutanese characteristics (including lack of eyeglasses), more of Gloria's manias, and my view of 9/11, until 7:44. Back to climb weary stairs to type with pesky fly annoying the hell out of me until 8:37, almost the official hour after dinner at which time I can again crawl into bed. Gloria approved my movement from ibuprofen to aspirin. I'm caught up for the first time on the trip, having established that we leave Bhutan on Sunday to a 6AM airport for an 8AM flight. Got to look at the green book for tomorrow's schedule, which everyone agrees will be light. Now 8:39PM. Read green book to 9:03 and bed at 9:10PM.
FRIDAY, 4/10/09: 1:41AM: Up to pee and put Vicks in nose and type this to 1:50AM. 3:24AM: Type three dreams and pee to 3:37AM. 4:54AM: Type two dreams to 5:03 and pee and take two aspirin. 6:27AM: Type two MORE DREAMS:4/10/09. Finish transcribing them at 6:33 and have to start packing before breakfast! Shit, then dress to 6:47AM, people babbling all around room, it seems. Pack, JAMMING things in and down, by 7:05. Garden wander: #332 tropical pine at 7:18AM. Breakfast 7:19-8:08, getting Kinga Dorji's name as driver. Two fried eggs, beans, two pieces of toast with marmalade, two sweet milky teas, and a banana. Exchange cards with Dorji and Carolyn. Leave $2 for housekeeping. Shit a bit again. Car goes at 8:20. They found my T-shirt in room 109! At Dochula Pass at 10AM, out of Queen's Temple, devoted to the Divine Madman, who raped his mother and killed a dog and did other outrageous things (the Mad Saint from yesterday) at 10:35, tired from those few steps, added to by going DOWN stairs to pee at 10:43. Leave top at 10:54. Small purple flower is cowslip. Out of Post Office in Thimpu at 12:02, having paid $22+ for stamps, giving $25 and getting 126 ngultrum back, very beautiful paper bills, particularly the 5, worth a dime. Lunch in Bhutan Kitchen, very modern-looking, but backward in tastes, the cheese and eggs particularly awful until mixed with the red rice and the white rice mixed with corn. Lunch 12:10-12:45, which put us into OTHERS' lunch hours, so Dorji took us to a riverside archery tournament, not that much fun to watch, from 1:05-1:45, quite warm in sun. 145-meter pitch between archer and target. Arts School 1:55-2:26, not that great: chopping and sawing wood, molding statues, painting, drawing, many classes seem to be taking tests. Good view over town from one window. Lots of tourists. Is a 1'x1' tanka REALLY $285US?? "Shop across the street" to 2:33, pricey. Library 2:42-3:15: world's largest book, collection of all four Buddhistic branches' sutras in scrolls and printed forms, and boxes for other material, taking six floors, not fire-protected, according to aghast Gloria. To hotel 3:25, tired. [Dinner 6:30PM, breakfast 8AM, leave 9; walk in town safely to 8PM.] Bhutanese movie Travelers and Magicians recommended, as is Book of Living and Dying. To room at 3:53 after tea and Dorji leaves for wife. Lie down 3:57; Gloria has to wake me at 7:45 for dinner, which I get down to at 7:50, embarrassed. Beer is filling, food not so much, but ice cream is good with a tart for dessert. Up to 2/7 puzzle 8:18-8:58. 2/8 bottom at 9:02 is impossible, but finish top at 10:06. Bed at 10:19PM.
SATURDAY, 4/11/09: 12:01AM: Pee. 2:14 type two dreams and take two aspirin and finish at 2:32. More DREAMS:4/11/09 at 3:51 and pee. We're in Kisa Hotel. 5:37 chart Nepal hotels to 5:51. Two shots of sun on mountain at 5:57. Up 6:34, just don't need more sleep, and I'm starting to brood about Nepal, bag and clothes for river trip, and roommate. Shower to 7:08. Type 7:12-7:28. Down to breakfast at 7:30, but no one's there. Have good cereal, apples and yogurt, orange juice, and then they arrive and we have omelets and toast 8-8:45, talking. Car goes at 9:02 to Memorial Chorten at 9:06, and inside to VERY elaborate yab-yum deities with meticulously rendered jewels to 9:37. Textile museum is not very interesting 9:41-10. Tshechu Festival in Paro. Dances are Chhams. Shacham is Stag Dance. Textile Museum shop to 10:18. Drive up to viewpoint to 10:48, looking at the tiered housing: queens on top, ministers below, rich people below that, and then the rest of the city, including an apple orchard that covers a quarter hillside that must be worth a MINT. Dorji says that his father was a personal guard for the king, and at one point the king motioned toward the as-yet-uninhabited valley and said they could take whatever land they wanted. His father said he was content with his farmland in the countryside. Someone jokes that Dorji could be rich today. Then just down the road to the takin preserve 11:52-12:20: it had been a zoo; they closed it but the takin kept returning, so they decided to leave them there, now about a dozen. We can see just the top of a blond one [Gloria recommends Yes Man film with Jim Carrey on the Jet Airways flight] and a few dark silhouettes on the hillside or in the gully down the center, or resting under the shelters. Two or three sambar deer come right up to the fence to be fed leaves. The others go back to the car without telling me, so I dash back at the end, having gotten some shots that I might be able to enlarge. From a lower viewpoint Dorji points out the SMALL present king's palace, the fortress (as with all: half for monks, half for administration), and the grandiose Parliament building. To the Handicrafts Exhibition Hall 11:40-12:05, and they don't have any of the "Bhutan" book, but they DO have a brochure saying that the paperback would be $25US, which I'm sure I could find for less on Amazon. Lots of stuff is VERY expensive, like the Lonely Planet Bhutan, marked for $25US and "for sale" at more than $35US. I'm last to the car. To room 12:02. Lunch 12:20-1:22, enormous with great variety. To Paper Factory 1:40-2:06, incredible range of products in an "earthy" surrounding with some very bright vegetable colors and VERY expensive tanka-type PAPERS for $285. Then off at Farmer's Market, just starting to rain, 2:13-2:50, one side for vegetables and an empty room destined for flowers, the other side for handicrafts on one half and ordinary clothing on the other half. David buys a $25 candle holder for $10, with which he's very pleased. Dorji gives us a choice: go to the hotel or come with him to walk into town and find more shops. I get to room at 2:58, relieved that the day is over. For the first time I can sit down without feeling the tops of my thighs, though the sheer altitude of Thimpu makes climbing stairs somewhat of a strain. Shit a bit and read New York magazine to 3:20. 2/8 bottom puzzle solved to 3:51. Start 2/14 puzzle and SORT of finish by 4:56, puzzled by "on for touch" as answer, but note that there's a NY Times puzzle site, which I hope goes back that far. 5:02 start packing. Shit suspiciously loosely at 5:18, and pack Imodium in my bag in case anything hits me at dinner tonight. Leave room 5:55, in black pants for the first time, and new flannel shirt, and Carolyn chooses to notice that I'm wearing an OAT jacket, which I've worn each day since I've been here. [Tomorrow 4:20AM breakfast, bags out 4:50, leave at 5AM, wake-up call at 4AM.] Drive short way to Bhutan Orchid Restaurant on 4th floor, for which we have to press 3 in elevator, the reverse of our having to press 4 to get off for rooms 305 and 306 at the Kisa Hotel---same engineer. Sit at two tables for four, and Kinga sits next to me, so I start to give David my bag to put in the empty place next to him, but Kinga intercepts this and does it himself. We get three kinds of beer: lager the best and most US-like, Red Panda tastier after other beers muzzy my senses, and 1100 the strongest. Potato chips on little plates. Then music and dancers appear at the other end of the hall, and we're told we can move down and watch. I sit in a great seat next to the cimbalom and dragon-headed guitar, and dancers are mostly four men or four women in various costumes enacting various country dances. The Chinese group that hired them is drunk and very loud, but they're easy to ignore. The dancers have obviously seen it all. I'm very conscious that my movie-time remaining goes down to only five minutes, so I'll undoubtedly have to use my second 2-gig chip for Nepal. Polite applause after six or seven dances over about half an hour, and then we go back to the tables to find they've been moved together, so Dorji has to move past me to get his seat next to Carolyn. Then come bowls after bowls of beef, rather like unsauced Sloppy Joes, pork in a thick sauce, rice, vegetables in raw and cooked form, some items we don't recognize, a green vegetable that's very much like a pepper in taste. We eat and I finish much of the beer, thankful that I don't feel stomach discomfort. Then Ed asks Dorji to give him a one-line caption for each of his photos, leaving Carolyn between me and David and Gloria, and she's had two half-cups of rice wine (which she decides is just like sake), and she spills out the ending of her 40-year marriage to a lawyer who suddenly seems to lose his mind: leaving the family, losing cases, cheating, getting disbarred, and finally forcing her to a very sad divorce---at which point she starts crying. Gloria later says she's already heard this whole story on the plane coming over. She goes on and on, David and I being very sympathetic, Carolyn talking about the effects on her children and grandchildren, and how they finally got back into at least TALKING to each other when one daughter had to be taken to the hospital. This goes on until Dorji finishes his task with Ed, and I get back to my room at 8:17 and bed at 8:28PM, making a note to get out my form and passport and to make sure to get my puzzles into my carry-on, uncertain as to whether I'll check in my black bag to obviate lugging it from steps to steps, and about what tomorrow will bring, and finally fall asleep. 10:02PM pee and type dream. Pee at 11:52PM.
SUNDAY, 4/12/09: Pee at 1:16AM and 2:32AM. 3:25 take Valium because I'm starting to feel antsy and broody. Mympths 2-3 seconds, as happened a few days ago that I forgot to record. Debate getting up when I look at my watch at 3:45, but figure to lie for a few minutes and jolt awake to find that my watch reads 4:34AM! There must be some mistake! On my way to the bathroom there's a knock on the door and Dorji says they're all downstairs waiting for me for breakfast. I say I didn't get a call, but am pointedly told that I DID get a call, more than one, and that Ed and Gloria pounded on my door, and, with great seriousness, Gloria later insisted, "We thought you might be dead!" I'm appalled! Dress as quickly as possible, not even washing my face, and get down to the restaurant at 4:45 to be told the food hasn't arrived yet! I dash back up to pack. Gloria knocks on my door to show me the LONG form that I wouldn't have looked for, but find both that AND the short form (from India, as it turns out) and my passport, and put stuff in my shoulder bag, and close it and get back down at 4:51 to find there's STILL no food, so I'm back up to take my bag from outside my door and down to the car. I leave the key on the desk: no one is there, and I MAY have had a beer that Dorji didn't pay for, but he'll have to do it now. At 4:55 (and Carolyn was down at 4:10 to wake up people sleeping in the lobby who were SUPPOSED to phone us but who fell asleep) we finally get a bowl of yogurt, then fruit, and then a bowl of cereal (with no milk), and then tea with sugar and eventually milk to go with everything. Everyone eats very fast, so I don't even get to finish my cereal (with three scoops of honey making it delicious), the final toast not even touched. To car at 5:10 to check my luggage is there and car goes fast through the lightening valleys, arriving at Paro Airport at 6:02, which Dorji says is "two minutes early." We're in to airport behind a long line of others, and I fear all the coveted right windows are gone, but they manage to give us two and Gloria actually gives me one---though Ed has the other directly behind me, and we wait in the lounge at 6:10. I show off my Neo, catch up on my written notes, and start typing at 6:45. Everyone stands to get in line at 7:33, and I want to finish the note, but the line goes fast, so I'm on the end at 7:35 to get to long line waiting in the sun to get into the rear. Detour into the men's room at 7:41 so I don't have to bother the people in my row by peeing during the 55-minute flight. We move back at 7:53, off at 8:02. We start seeing high peaks at once, and the first REALLY high one is announced as the third-highest: Kanchenjunga, at 8:22. I snap and snap, but there's nothing to take a movie of. We get the same cheese-sandwich halves we got on the way out, with juice and two cookies, and I joke to Gloria, "Here we're looking at one of the most sublime sights on earth and this woman is bending over our aisle asking if we'd like a candy." VERY hazy below, almost the purple blanket that I encountered years ago flying into Los Angeles. Then the pilot announces Everest when we're pretty well past it, and he also talks about Chu-Oyo (#6) and some other high peaks that I'll just have to get from a map. Can't resist taking picture after picture. Finally we start down over eastern Nepal, quite unoccupied, first small buildings only on hilltops, later in valleys, sometimes with high paths going from peak to peak. Other snow-peaks show up in the distance and I keep taking pictures, hoping to get some good ones. Land at 8:52, only a 46-minute flight. Off plane at 8:59 into modern airport with lots of people bustling about. They announce what seems to be an impossible 15-minute time-change, but which later turns out to be the truth. Out of airport (our bags all came out very quickly, everyone claimed them, and Gloria passed out luggage tags that the guard collected without bothering to check the numbers). Out to a mass of waiting tour agents, and Gloria---in the lead---spots the yellow OAT sign right away, and Ram introduces himself, and on the bus actually says he remembers I'm Bob---needed, since there are two OTHER Roberts and a Roberta on the trip! Onto 18-passenger bus at 9:28, which I sure hope isn't for the 14 of us. Then change watch fifteen minutes: 9:45 to 9:30. He said he'd explain why later. [Tonight: 5PM briefing after nine others arrive about 3PM, then at 6:30 leave for dinner outside the hotel.] Nepal has 30 million people, Kathmandu 2 million in the city and 4 million in the valley, which is the size of Singapore. We get to Hotel Everest at 9:24AM to be shown to an over-cooled raised waiting room (where we're given small mango drinks and told that check-out time is noon), and the hotel is TOTALLY full, so there's NO spare room at all, though we can wander around the shops here, and he'll take us for a walk in the area, right now at 10:04AM. $1 can get as much as 80 rupees. He suggests we get about $500 in rupees for the trip "for drinks, tips, meals, etc." We walk into the busy street and the nearby ATM is out of service. We're pointed to the blue-banded bank across the "zebra crosswalk" as a bank of last resort. Take a picture of a ludicrously overloaded electrical pole, and pass hundreds of shops, some so small (three by three by four) they're clearly subdivisions of other shops. Selling everything under the sun: oils, jewelry, shoes, clothes, hardware, hats, massage, one young man may have been selling two young girls down one side alley. A Sherpa had moved from Tibet, illiterate in India, and specialized in carrying what Ram said was "maybe a few hundred kilograms" of weight: this one was carrying a full-room carpet, rolled tightly, taller than himself, maybe two feet or a little more in thickness. Traffic was horrendous: cars, taxis, mopeds, minibuses, trucks, bicycles, and pedestrians, and we had to watch both ways even on the narrowest streets. Sidewalks were sometimes nonexistent, sometimes dangerously cracked: at one time Ed pointed out a gaping hole in the concrete that I was too intent on goggling elsewhere to notice. It got hotter as we walked, though many people still wore sweaters. Near the hotel we encountered some awful beggars who had to be physically chased away, and---just after---I felt someone brush against me and swiped backward, hitting Ed, who completely understood, but who said he was sorry, he wasn't into whipping. I never had to worry about the camera around my neck, however. Some of the pedestrians were well-enough turned out, but David summarized it by saying, "It looks like a good hotel in a lousy neighborhood." We got back to the coolness of the lobby---saluted by the doorman---at 10:55, to find that our rooms still weren't finished. Lunch today isn't furnished, but the lobby fast-food place will probably suffice---at least once we have a room number. 11:18: Check with Ram and find I can leave all my COLD-weather rafting gear---now unnecessary---HERE in my black bag, to be picked up the DAY I LEAVE, and use my black bag in place of my stupidly left-behind GREEN bag. Babies SCREAM in the lobby, we still don't have a room by 11:21AM. More puzzle. To room 425 (trying to unlock room 426 first!) at 12:05. Ram has infinite trouble with my sharing with William Lentini, which came out "Letson" in the greeting letter. REPACK to 12:55PM, putting everything I don't need into the green Wellingtons bag, and then finding OTHER things to be added as I sort through the stuff that I put into drawers, and then I discover at 1:15 that somehow I LOST or LEFT two short-sleeved shirts! This comes close to destroying me. Left a message for Ram at 12:55 and he hasn't called back by the time I catch up with this at 1:34, hungry enough to try to go to the coffee shop to see what's cooking, hoping NOT to get the kids who seem to be screaming EVERYWHERE, particularly at the elevators outside MY DOOR! Down to ask where Himalayan Tavern is, when it's right across the hall, and sit with a single Chinese couple, which should have given me the hint. Think about the ham burger (their spelling) for a bit, but decide on the "classic combination sandwich" with a 7•Up that comes 3/4 full, but I decide to say nothing about it, since it IS less than a dollar. The sandwich is awful: fried egg, cheese, some kind of sausage, and an awful creamed chicken that I think contributes four or five small actual bones, and one LARGE bone that is almost a section through a major limb. I take out the lettuce but perversely eat the tomatoes and cucumbers, while gratefully avoiding the pallid coleslaw. It had taken a long time to come, and there's almost no one of interest in the lobby in front of me except a few businessmen on cell phones. With a service charge of 10% and a Value Added Tax of 12% it comes to something like 880R, over $10, but at least my stomach isn't hungry anymore. This agony goes to 2:15, seeing no one from the group in the lobby. Look at Boss magazine on a table in the room; it has nothing; and lie down at 2:41. But I don't really want to nap, don't want to be wakened by Bill when he comes in about 3:30 if he comes as planned, so I get up quickly and start surfing the hundred channels, including some American series and news programs that STILL don't give the location of the Italian earthquake, and talk about civil unrest that makes me happy we're not in Thailand. Bill comes in at 3:45 and we talk each other's heads off to 4:39 and get down to the lobby to be told our meeting is on 6, which the elevator doesn't go up to when we're 6 in the elevator, taking up only 5 people. Lots of notes to 6:15, and up to room to find my key doesn't work! Down to change it and get back to put shoes on and go to dinner in my jeans. EXTRAORDINARY traffic jam where oil trucks stop, waiting for a road ahead to open, and stopping traffic that wants to get around them, made worse by little cars that poke their noses between the trucks and our bus so that Ram has to lean out the window to ensure our clearances, letting no one go anywhere fast. At one time Ram wants us to walk ten minutes, but then the traffic clears up and we go through alleys so narrow I want to video us skimming past curbs, pedestrians, cyclists, mopeds, and even cars going in both directions. Just incredible. Finally pull up around the corner from Rum Doodle (named for a book written by an Englishman that Ram recommends), and go up two flights of stairs to a corner table, where I order a special drink with rum, brandy, coffee, and cream on top for about 285R (which I never get charged for), and an Everest beer, which he says is 600 ml, and not bad. David is amazingly communicative, even suggesting that if Bill and I don't work out I can move in with HIM! Carolyn on the other side is pleasant, as is the couple across from me, as we compare travel tales. I have pork barbecue with a strange white gelatinous "pork sauce" on top of it, hard but sweet baked beans, a baked potato in its skin wrapped in aluminum, a good clear vegetable soup to start with, and a good apple pie with ice cream to finish. I get more and more tired, but the ride back is almost instant, getting in at 8:43. I brush my teeth to a bloody spit, and start typing at 10PM. Bill goes up to 7 to see what the view is like ("very dark") and comes back before I finish. He fusses about; I shut the drapes and put the light on by his bed, so it'll be the only light on when I turn off my bed light. Finish this at 10:20PM, preparing for tomorrow's schedule of a wake-up call at 7AM (which Bill moves up to 6:30, but I can't say no), and breakfast at 7 and departure at 8 for a tour of the town, and what seems like a VERY busy day. Bed at 10:24PM.
MONDAY, 4/13/09: 1:01AM: Was SURE I heard the phone ring and thought, "OK, Bill's getting up; he'll wake me in half an hour." Later, I woke and wondered if he was still in the bathroom, but THEN thought it must have been another phantom phone call. Take the Neo into the bathroom and find it's only 1AM! HAD a dream, but I forgot it! Bill, earlier, seeing my batteries recharging, asked, "Oh, your camera can use REGULAR batteries?" ANOTHER advantage to my camera that I hadn't yet realized! 3:46AM: Type DREAMS:4/13/09 and pee. 5:47AM: Type another dream and pee. 5:55: Take Diamox. Shower 6:50-7:05, Bill gone. Breakfast 7:15-7:41, no hot chocolate. Down at 7:55, on bus 8:07. 8:52 God of Learning with students' names as graffiti in Patan. 9:28 Kali Temple in Durbar Square, and porn rafters from 800AD, from single stone. Temple of Justice, used by TIME-God Bhairab. Suicided Parvati in pink on his back. 9:44 Krishna Temple, god of erotic arts. 10:02 Kumari temple, and we can go INSIDE and she'll even APPEAR, though we can't take her picture. 10:40 shopping done. 10:46 Kumari appears. About four years of age, heavily kohled, totally impassive. Withdrew 12,000 rupees from HSBC account at ATM. View from Festive Fare terrace after watching movie being made with endless retakes of the tiniest scene. By the time I got to the roof, everyone was gone. Onto surprise rickshaw ride 11:29 with Carolyn: we're almost too big to fit in one seat. Off rickshaw 11:46. To Patan [1946: 2000 Maoist insurgency refugee tents on riverside] at 12:03, inside old palace for lunch on our own, squeezing under trellis. A female yak is a nak. Have fish fingers, good, and samosa not, and momo mostly not good. 435R lunch to 1:30. 1:48 Golden Temple, which I don't think I saw before, and through it to singing bowl display to 2:02. 2:19 stone temple, no connecting materials. 2:45 onto tuk-tuk with six others for VERY bumpy ride, to get off at 2:55, Ram clearly determined to make us all as happy as possible. Onto bus. [Tomorrow: 6AM wake-up call, take jacket as airport might be cold, and 6:30 leave for flight, breakfast later.] To Swayambunath, from 100AD, by 3:29, QUICKLY to top, many fewer monkeys than I remember from before, and now it's part of the CITY rather than distant in the suburbs, with some huge apartment buildings going up nearby. Take lots of pictures, remembering nothing from the top, which we got to quickly by taking a shortcut up only about a hundred steps, and quickly back down to bus by 4:03, stopping to take videos of a young monkey that I stooped to get at face level---and his mother grabbed my pant-leg, causing me to withdraw VERY quickly. Bus goes at 4:05, 4:30 to hotel, 4:37 to room, and had gone up to 7 to see that the Chinese package dinner for New Year's Eve looked good to me and David, and I phoned Bill, who said he'd consider it, and the kindly reservationist said we could make a reservation for two that we could increase to three at any time. Have a LONG talk while lying in bed with Bill (HA!---make that Have a long talk with Bill while lying in bed!), and get all sorts of information exchanged, though by coincidence he and David, at lunch, exchanged information about their DRUG experiences, about which Bill said, "Sadly, I had to finance by selling." But he said that no one he sold to ever had a bad trip. I dress in black pants, which makes Bill change out of ugly shorts into long pants, but we get up at 7PM to the Mandarin Restaurant, fairly crowded though I thought I was told it opened at 7PM, and there sits David in HIS shorts. We establish that we don't get OAT's 10% discount we'd get if we ate downstairs. We don't even get a free drink, but I order a 660 ml beer for 260R, a bargain, and Bill has iced tea and David a soft drink. We look at the menu, get a tiny plate of appetizers with kim-chi, and then [start file 2 at 6PM 4/14/09] start getting large platters of food that we try to square with our memory of the fixed-price menu: the first dish was egg roll and chicken that we were pretty sure was Szechuan chicken; the second dish was fish (which wasn't announced, but maybe it was a substitute for the lamb) and some kind of vegetable that fit; the third dish was two other items---and we wondered why we hadn't gotten the steamed rice and honeyed Hakka potatoes, which would have helped lessen the steam that David kept getting from the truly mild dishes. So we asked about the rice and potatoes, and the server said that the next course would be the soup, and THEN we'd start on the menu. We could hardly believe our ears; the soup was too spicy for BOTH David and me, so they gave us a good clear vegetable soup, and then started with the table FULL of SMALLER plates of the chicken, the delicious lamb, other vegetable dishes (some hot, some not), and wonderful honeyed potatoes. A few babies cried, trying to make me miserable, but the beer helped a lot in making me happy, and in the long interval before the soup I got into my LSD experiences paid by IBM, continued a bit with Actualism, and they chimed in with information on their own---for a fact-filled evening, as well as food-filled. David "can only eat so much chocolate," so I helped finish off his chocolate mousse, and he helped with our jam-filled pancakes, but I ate the delicious ice cream. The bill came to 1101.75R for me, which I signed for, while Bill paid for his in cash. Left the still-full (with different people) restaurant at 9:34, entirely stuffed, so I just got to bed at 9:45, propping my head on a doubled pillow against reflux, of which I had none.
TUESDAY, 4/14/09: Pee at 1AM, 3:50 shit one tiny turd, pee, and drink water. Type 5:38-5:50. 5:52AM: Finish typing two dreams and start to get ready for the 6:30AM departure for the plane ride to Mount Everest. Replace camera card to 6:15 with trepidation, but it went as easy as pie: push it in (though I would have preferred they put that BEFORE describing putting in the NEW one), take it out, put in the new one, and test that it's OK, and it is! Shit adequately, though there's still the slight odor and color-on-paper of diarrhea about it, and onto bus at 6:22. To airport 6:35, sun WAY up. Onto airport bus 6:55, after 3-4 pat downs, and bus goes at 6:57, just 16 of us: 11 from our group (not David or Gloria or Ed, who consider they've seen it), a Chinese family of 4, and a single bearded hippie-type with an enormous camera. 7:07 get to seat 7C, just at the trailing edge of the wing, third row from the back. Off at 7:27. Plane is a Beech 1900D. My camera time here is 15 minutes AHEAD of actual time. Above smog at 7:34. Mountains to the west come into view first, those of us on the right getting them nicely with the sun behind us, and I start taking pictures as the stewardess starts tapping passengers to go to the door of the pilots' cabin. Everest just heaves into view on the extreme right when I'm called forward, and get some GREAT shots of Everest and Lhotse and Makalu (perfect pyramid to the RIGHT of Everest) and a high mountain to the left FAR into Nepal, but still not in China, and on my second trip up get pointed out Chu-Oyo and "the Holy Mountain," which might be Macchupicchere, which is said to be not yet climbed because of its sacredness, and I wonder if that was the one Dorji described as the last, highest, unclimbed Himalaya. And finally turn away from peaks at 8:03, saturated with beauty, and someone even managed to get a close-up of a base camp. I took pictures of high peaks, low peaks, fields of peaks, areas between peaks, even an oval frozen lake, and was generally delighted with the shots. 8:13 down into smog, and land at 8:29 for 1:02 in the air. On bus at 8:33 to airport, and onto OAT bus at 8:42. At 8:53 Ram announces we leave at 10AM after breakfast. To breakfast 9:04, dining room JAMMED, sitting across from two Chinese, but joined by Ram and then the Swiss couple, and I start with cereal, then an omelet with rolls, then fruit, with two cups of milky tea, feeling content. Finish at 9:44, going up to shit again. Bus goes at 9:29. Off bus in Bodunath (hugely overgrown) at 10:28. Pictures of crowded central space, and try to get shots of the area around but really can't do it. Go to a "demonstration" of tanka-drawing, and am slightly tempted by a much-too-dark Kalachakra for $40, but it IS just too dark, AND I take down the name of the book The Mandala, by Martin Brauen, which I hope to get on Amazon. The Himalaya View Restaurant (up to which I laboriously climb five flights of stairs) affords no view into the newly populated outer rings of what had been an isolated village when John and I were there in 1971. Wait for bus at 11:39. Off at 11:43 to Pashupatinath (Vishnu, as Pashupati, Lord of the Animals), getting there at 11:53. New gardens make it different, the river is VERY low and the cremations very clear, as were the monkeys and cows. David and I start UP stairs before we decide we MUST be going in the wrong direction, so we're back down to where I DO remember Ram saying we're not going back the same way, and turn to find him waving to us, at which time he offers us the advice he later relays to the entire bus: "If you're lost, just stay where you are; I'll know how to retrace our steps and find you." Back to bus at 12:44 to Bhaktapur for the "Biscuit" Festival going strong, causing traffic jams and people jams. Off bus at 1:26, and to Cafe Nyatpola 1:46-2:46 exact, having a half-liter beer, good cream of mushroom soup, poor cheese and ham toasts, good shares of Carolyn's chow mein, going to the other side to video snatches of dances from the festival, but nothing very interesting until Carolyn points out an entirely naked, quite hairy, rather nicely built for all his craziness, man in ONLY a black overcoat and shoes making his way through the crowd. Never saw him again. Pee. I owe Carolyn 391R because the waiter has no change, so she supplies the 1000R and I the 361---or whatever---of the rest of the bill. I MUST get Little Buddha, by Bertolucci, with Ram in blue just as Buddha comes out of his castle for the first time (1991). Ram is 36. Movie filmed in lots of places around here. 3:18: meet at 3:43 at bell. Go back and take more shots of the people at the festival, then back to shoot more of the Durbar Square, and start walk to bus at 3:45. From 800-1300AD Nepal was RULED from Dattatraya Square, we were told at 4:07. Long SOUND movie of square at 4:10. GREAT book for 100R as we stop for the Peacock Window. I'm starting to get PISSED by the incessant honking of the mopeds insisting that THEY have the right of way over pedestrian pedestrians. To bus at 4:29 and traffic forces us to take a detour that is quite interesting. [Tomorrow: wake-up 7AM, breakfast 7:30 with luggage of BOTH kinds (to stay and to go), and leave at 8:15. 9:30 flight to Pokhara, may have a long wait. 25-minute flight. Leave bag in hotel, GREEN bag on trek. 4PM tea, 6PM talk, 7PM dinner, water OK in bag, no batteries, no liquid in carry-on. ON TREK: need 2 pair trousers, water shoes, T-shirts, underwear, socks, flashlight, and we'll GET a poncho, cap, and scarf. Can't make anything of next line: "FREE laundry 7, mail (or mall) (or meal) LOST (or COST)." Driver for four days tipped tomorrow AM, HALF of guide tip to ASSISTANT guide/day. River-raft guide $10-15/trip. Tipping in Chitwan INCLUDED. 1356R departure tax to Delhi. Two photos TOMORROW.] Give Carolyn $5 for 391R, getting $15 for driver's tip from $20. To hotel at 5:18. Start typing at 5:29. Bill moves around sorting things out for tomorrow, CONSTANTLY talking to himself, AND giving me the definite idea that he thinks I'm invading HIS territory by using the table by his bed for my typing. Finish with note 8 just at 6:50, in time to wash face and get pills and get downstairs to meet Carolyn and David at 7PM to go a few doors down to The Bakery for barbecue chicken, surprisingly good and copious for only, like, 275R, and a large Carlsburg for about the same, with my final bill at 515R, for which I give 1020 and get the right change, getting my first 5R note. Ann and Bob sit behind Bill and give us a copy of THEIR tipping notes, which totally disagree with Ram's idea of tipping, but we agree that we'll NOT tip at Chitwan, though "the old" guide says we should. I copy items from their list: Local guide $3-4/day, Chitwan staff $6-8/person. Trek bus crew $1/person. Raft crew $2-3/person. River bus crew $2-3/person. Porter $8-10/person. Bus driver $3-4/day. Get back from dinner 8:49 and finish typing all notes by 9:13, having let Carolyn pay for an ENTIRE bottle of beer on HER check, and wangling Bill into giving me a ten and ten singles for a $20, so now not only do I have the bus driver's tip, but I have lots of singles for the other tips coming due. Now at 9:15 to start preparing for MY division of stuff into my green bag and my black bag, which Carolyn says I won't SEE after checking it onto the plane tomorrow: it'll be transferred directly to the Pokhara Hotel to be available only AFTER the trekking portion of our trip. Bill goes out to meet someone and comes back ALREADY, having borrowed MY room key to do so. 9:50PM: Divvy up everything: new souvenirs and dirty clothes into my green plastic "leave at Kathmandu Hotel" bag; things I won't need on the trek in my black bag; things I'll need on the trek in my green bag; things in my shoulder bag---doh---in my shoulder bag. Bed at 10PM. Slight difficulty in falling asleep, worried about start of trekking tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY, 4/15/09: Pee at 12:43AM. Type two dreams at 2:52AM. Finish typing at 2:58AM. Slight bit of indigestion from the barbecue chicken and lots of beer last night. TWO phantom telephone rings: one after 2AM, another after 5AM. 5:28AM: Go for shit and find a strange stream of water on the floor to the RIGHT of the toilet, almost under the sink. Have two rather liquid bowel movements, but at least I'm not constipated. Type DREAMS:4/15/09. Lower back was quite sore as I got out of bed. 5:33AM: Gentle tap on the door and I say, "Just a second," and finish wiping myself and point out the odd stream of water. "That's a bummer," he says. "Thanks for pointing it out." 5:50AM: Started Actualism, starting to REALLY worry about getting some kind of fever, think to move my Imodium to my shoulder bag, and suddenly a dream of a number of days ago, not previously recorded, comes back with great clarity, and I transcribe it as dream 4 for this morning. After typing my dream, I wipe myself again and find two sheets still dirtied with the remains of my previous bowel movement. Phone rings at 6:27AM and I try Actualism, but don't get very far. About 6:40 I see Bill with a towel around his waist and ask if he's taken his shower. He has, so I decide to use what may be the last "civilized" shower for a time (the trekking shower may depend on solar panels and the heat may run out at night). Do that quickly, not doing my hair, and then turn on TV and start doing my teeth thoroughly for the first time in a long time, sad that it's before breakfast, but glad that at least it's being done. That lasts during the recap on Obama's report on the economy: he still seems on top of everything, and I finish with my teeth (Bill out of the room first for coffee, and now probably just talking to people in the lobby or the breakfast room). I catch up with this at 7:13 and prepare to find my photos, which I forgot last night, and do my final packing to get everything but my shoulder bag into the hall by 7:30AM pickup time. Guy comes to check the mini-bar, and I get my three bags out (having located the tag for my name on the new green bag) at precisely 7:30AM, when the truck and porter come down the hall to pick up our six bags. To breakfast 7:35: omelet, roll, tea, fruit, to 7:55, stomach not feeling QUITE right; hope nothing's going wrong. Ram's alone at the table with me, studying his papers, and then he leaves. I forget about my lunch bill until Ram reminds me, and I present my Visa card and the clerk picks up the LAST paper from the desk in front of him. To room last time 8AM, shit sadly soft. Down at 8:08, all waiting, luggage gone. On bus 8:13 and it goes. To airport at 8:22. 8:51: STILL one bag missing (#28), and we have to sort through to find our bags, even getting those that had been checked in already, until Ram realizes that HIS bag doesn't have a baggage tag, so HIS was the 28th! Get seat 9A! Through security at 9AM. On airport bus 9:20. On plane 9:37, which takes off at 9:55. Right side has some views of the Himalayas above the smog layer, which at one point gets clearer, so I can see some of the farmlands and rivers below, with paths sometimes joining the tops of the hills; everything looks very dry, though it's still too early for deciduous leaves this April at this altitude. No real transition between the countryside and the suburbs of Pokhara, and we land at 10:20, temperature in the mid-80s, onto bus at 10:50 after taking pictures of Pokhara Airport just to prove that I finally got there. Long wait for our luggage, which finally arrives. Tapa is our trek leader and Kesh is his assistant. Bus goes at 10:53, Bill bugging me by asking if this looks like Kathmandu used to look. I can only reply, "The style is very different": streets here are all shop fronts, where I remember Kathmandu as being mainly elegant houses converted to hotels set back on lawns, except for a small downtown area that was crowded. To office at 10:56 and off the bus to be told to sit in a circle of chairs IN THE HOT SUN. I get a chair facing AWAY from the sun, anyway, and then he asks for photographs, so I have to go back to the bus to get mine. Then have to go back for something else, so I just bring my shoulder bag, and am then "permitted" to move the chair to the shade at 11:30. Get a hat (without strings for ties), a "sun scarf" that I wrap around the bottom of my hat while Ed SEWS his on, and a walking stick with two adjustable extensions, which I put into my shoulder bag. Finally back on bus at 11:37 and go at 11:40. Over dusty, bumpy roads crowded with trucks and cars and mopeds, air so hazy it's almost impossible to find a good picture to take, even though some of the hillsides are necklaces of rice paddies, with rushing rivers below. Stop for lunch at 12:38 at a concrete-block open-air restaurant, where they pull out our box lunches. By this time I think I might have to throw up to relieve the tension in my stomach, though I’m still happy that I haven't had diarrhea yet. Look through the box and put out the cookie, sandwich, and egg for someone to take, and give Bill my chicken, which David asks for later. Have the juice and maybe one other item; taking the peanuts with me for later. Just don't feel hungry: in fact I feel bloated, which makes me fear that I'm constipated, even though I DID have a shit this morning. Announce to the table that I'm giving away most of the food, after which a silence falls over the group, so I have to say, jokingly, "Well THAT silenced the group." No one laughs. Some Nepalis stop, I think to eat, so I clear off my bench so they can sit down, but it turns out they display their wares on towels on the ground: they're there only to sell things to us. I go to pee, thankfully with no urge to shit, and we leave Pokhara Cottage Restaurant at 1PM. Off at 1:18, taking some pictures up the rice paddies. Get off the bus at 1:35, distributing our 28 bags into the back-baskets of three or four young girls! Ram SAID the walk would be level, but it starts with a STEEP descent through a rocky defile where we REALLY have to watch our step, putting our walking sticks to good use, but risk twisting our ankles at almost every step. Take a photo of a wonderful nude male from the back in a group of swimmers at a pool in the river, but each time I stop for a photo practically everyone passes me and I have to rush to catch up. Across a wooden suspension bridge, pass a few lodges and shops and houses, but then get into open fields with NO shade whatsoever and I keep feeling my arms baking, though the back of my neck feels protected by the sun scarf. The guy in red, with a huge barrel on his back, stays WAY in the front, as if making fun of the people trailing behind him, and I often find myself at the back of the line with Ram, who's responsible for bringing up the rear. We just DON'T stop, and after about 45 minutes I petulantly ask Ram why there are no rest stops. "You can rest anytime you want to; I'll stay back with you until you start going again." That, sadly, doesn't make me feel much better. We climb up lots of hills, down, skirt puddles in the path (though all the fields seem VERY dry). Get to a restaurant perched atop a dam, and I figure we MUST be stopping there for a bit, but we continue past it. I'm FORCED to sit down: I'm inhaling through my mouth, clearly breathing in lots of dust, really pushing to and past my limits, wondering WHEN the hell we're going to get back to the bus (I had the erroneous idea that we had to get back to the bus, which would take us the rest of the way to the Serenity Lodge). Stop for a few more pictures, fall more and more behind the front of the group, more and more breathless, taking drinks when I have a few seconds, stomach feeling worse and worse, and then I start feeling like I have to pee. At one point I mention to someone next to me, "I honestly think I'd rather be in Abu Ghraib than here." [We're shown a bangra, a white vest-like wife-made garment that holds a scythe for cutting wood---and can be pulled up for a raincoat---at 5:20PM 4/16.] Finally I decide to let the last woman pass so I can pee off the path. She comes up and I say something inane like, "Oh, there's a wonderful bird up there, but don't look back." She, of course, is a bird-watcher, so she wants to know where the bird is. Then I confess I just wanted her to pass by so I could pee, and we laugh about it: "Where did you get that odd way of saying it?" "Right out of my sick head." Ram comes up and says, "But we're RIGHT HERE at the Lodge," and we ARE. A few more steps takes us to a sign that says Art Souvenirs, and then to the right is a sign for Serenity Lodge, under a trellis with amaryllis growing on either side, down three enormous flights of stone stairs, across a stone causeway, to a central lawn with kitchen, dining room, and library along one side, and guests' rooms along the other side. They've set up a wonderful table of mango juice, so when Ram offers me an immediate john, I say I can wait---and I do, through three glorious cold glasses of juice while I catch my breath, and then get assigned cabin 8, in the middle of the central line with cabins 3-9, with 1 and 2 to one side, and 10-12 on the other. Japanese-style bathroom makes the idea of taking a shower daunting. I take a pee and lie down on top of the bedclothes, feeling absolutely drained of any energy. Tea is announced from 4PM, a communications meeting is announced for 6PM and dinner at 7, and I tell Ram I probably won't be to any of them. Take all clothes off except shorts and in about a half-hour muster the energy to turn from my left side to my right side. Everyone's outside laughing and talking, and I, for a moment, even think I chose the wrong trip. Bill announces that if he leaves the room and closes the door, I'm locked in, but I say that's OK. Finally, at 7:18, I decide I MUST get up to get stuff out of my bag for the night: pills, flashlight, eyemask, and later on, when the cough starts, ask Bill to get my Fisherman's Friend from my bag. Somewhere in here I suffer SEVERE chills, so I have to get under the enormously heavy quilt, which quickly becomes oppressive, so I have to stick out limbs to adjust the temperature. Then one of the staff knocks on the door and asks if I want any food. He goes through a list of things and I decide I might try the soup and some rice. He comes later with a soup that strikes me as spicy, which I don't feel would sit well with my stomach, and the rice quickly seems to fill me up, so I simply stop. Ram stops by to see if he can get me anything, and I go into my usual "I'm hardly ever sick, I don't know what this is other than exhaustion, but my stomach feels funny." "It might just be the heat," he suggests. "Maybe if you could find someone with Pepto-Bismol," I venture, remembering Barcelona, where that seemed to help. He leaves for a while and finally comes back with two Cipro, saying that the same sort of thing happened to Carolyn, and she said two Cipro cured it. I'm skeptical, but willing to try anything, so about 8PM I down both of them. Bill returns from dinner, sympathizes with me, and I flush the rest of the soup and the dinner down the toilet. Crawl into bed at 8:20, having tried to find something narrow enough to fit into the wall side of the bed as a table, but, lacking that, take over half the small table between our two beds, filling it with the Neo, my flashlight, eyemask, water, notes and pen, and earplugs. Wake at 11:56PM to pee, pleased that the room doesn't seem as cold as it did before, so I don't get chills. Get right back to sleep.
THURSDAY, 4/16/09: Wake in the dark, and again at 6:10AM, Bill going out for breakfast. I ACTUALLY SHIT at 6:40 and dress for breakfast, thankfully feeling MUCH better, but I find I'm locked in. Bill returns to get his bottle filled with water, so I take my water bottle to breakfast, where everyone is happy to see me up and around. Have the cereal, a hard-boiled egg with toast and butter, a tangerine, a banana, and tea. Going out, David convulses himself and everyone who hears by saying, "I asked Bill to give you my love, but Bill said I'd have to do it myself." Hard to tell whether it was embarrassment or self-humor that made him laugh so hard, but I was actually quite touched. The group leaves for their walk at 7:20. I walk to the river and look at some of the stone paths leading along it, but feel that I've used up my available energy and get back to lie down at 7:30. At 10:20 I decide to pee and take a walk to the suspension bridge that Ram said was to the right on the road, only a ten-minute walk. So I take only my hat and camera with my T-shirt and jeans, no water or sunscreen, since I'll be out such a short time. Enjoy the solo walk to frame and take pictures that try to capture the feel, desolation, dryness, yet inventiveness of the area---including some of the trekkers, from a surprising number of countries, with many Nepalese groups among them, it seems to me. It's nice that they can sightsee in their own country. But after 15 minutes of walking I begin to worry that I've somehow missed the path to the suspension bridge: I can't be THAT much slower than his ten-minute estimate, but then I think of his description of the trek from the bus as being LEVEL, which it certainly wasn't, so I continue past the school, the Hungry Eye Restaurant, look closely at the intersection to Sag-Mar, or something like that, and then ask an Englishman if there's a bridge ahead and he says no, but the guide says yes: just go for another half-hour, just around the next bend, and you'll be able to see it. So I continue past the half-hour mark, knowing it'll take that long to get BACK, but finally end with a shot of the river going off to the north, a huge climb to the next bend, and at 11:16 I reluctantly decide I just have to turn around. I'd started in good condition, but now I'm breathing hard, wishing I had some water, and some sun protection, and have gotten tired of the sameness of the landscape. Then, about 11:50, when I figure I'm about ten minutes from Serenity, I look from the NORTH to see the catenary of the steel suspension bridge. Can't even immediately find how to GET there. Look for a trail, but there isn't any. Try a path, but end up separated by a barbed-wire fence from what is now clear IS the path, and double back to walk down a stone walkway to the foot of the bridge, to see four young men bathing in the river in swimming trunks. Film them waving at me, and film the bridge, and go to the middle and take a shot of others passing by, and turn back, taking all the shots I need, and return, with relief, to the camp at 12:12PM, having passed the Swiss Claude, who says he's finished lunch, but that they're waiting for me. Down all the stairs with relief, take my camera to my room and drink lots of water, and get to lunch to pretend-bop Ram over the head and tell my story, and Tapa apologizes, saying he realizes he should have told me to look to my right at the ten-minute mark. Then Ram announces that the afternoon walk will be one hour up the road and one hour back, so I've essentially DONE that. Finish a skimpy lunch, still not feeling quite right stomachly, and chat with people till 12:51. Lie down to 2:11, and decide to put on BATHING suit because it's quite warm, starting to rain, and Mary starts shouting that she can see Annapurna! She asks if I have an umbrella, which I lend her, and she goes out in the downpour and says she got a picture of it. I go out and manage to get a picture which, when enlarged, seems to be the best of the group. Anytime I show anyone my camera they praise its capabilities, and I repeat the story of my being impressed by it on safari and taking down the number, then ordering it from Amazon when my slide camera finally died. Play sudoku for a while, but then Phil sits and talks about his flying experiences, and I cut him out when he and Bill start talking about Phil's wife's horses, and start transcribing my notes about 3:20. Take the Annapurna shot at 3:36 (with whatever adjustment is needed for time) and at 4:04 comes the extremely helpful little tea server, who bends Karen's ear about the 350 butterflies in this area, the mountain barriers preventing various species from mixing, the history of Shamanism among the American Indians, and other things. Amazingly, he learned his excellent English ONLY by talking with tourists: which he loves to do because he LOVES the beauty of his country and is very proud of it. Rains on and off, and then at 5:30 I suddenly feel COLD, so I'm in to change to jeans, shoes, and a jacket over my T-shirt. Continue with notes until I notice a fire in the grate in the library, and go down to find everyone assembled for the discussion hour at 6PM, which I'd forgotten about, since I hadn't been there last night. Ram goes on and on about plate tectonics causing earthquakes, Bhutanese and Nepalese supplies of water to parched India, interdependence among these countries (Bhutan having no army, but protected by India), and some other boring subjects, made palatable (literally) by plates of popcorn and potato chips with two dips replaced at our tables. I have a can of tonic, making it clear that it's to be billed to room 8Z, to distinguish it from Bill's 3/4 glass of rum this afternoon! Meeting ends when they announce dinner, and it's an Indian feast with---what's the large flaky bread? [papadum]---and dahl, chicken curry, chutney, tiny French fries that quickly go limp in the humidity, and heaps of rice, much of which I don't eat, filling up on the tomato, cucumber, and daikon plate, and then apple pie with fresh cream for dessert, with tea. Stuffed, without eating that much, out at 8PM, taking the key, which I didn't even know existed (they'd moved everything I left on the verandah into the room, since I figured I'd be gone only a few minutes to take a picture of the grate-fire in the library). Lock the door and take a small shit, when of course Bill knocks to be let in. Type from 8:20 to 9:15PM, well aware that the electricity will go off at 9:30, and ready for a good night's sleep before tomorrow's 6AM wake-up call, 6:30 tea, 7AM breakfast, 9AM departure on a climbing trip to a village for "A Day with the Nepalese." Not looking forward to it. Gotta wash my face and hands before bed, too, at least. Just do that and prepare to undress when the lights flick three times and go out immediately. Bill says they should give a three-minute warning. I say that, since my watch says it's only 9:26PM, they're going by Ram's watch, which is five minutes fast. Use flashlight to help Bill light the candle, finish getting undressed and into bed and to sleep fairly quickly.
FRIDAY, 4/17/09: 12:20AM pee, and again at 1:19, thanks to Diamox. 3:45 shit very large and loose amount, still not QUITE diarrhea, though worrisome, particularly with a day out coming up. 5:12 wake with a dream about a Budget Rent A Car screw-up, but just make a note of it. A "phantom" phone rings at EXACTLY 6AM, and I get up to find Bill outside already, locking me in. Have another copious shit, again loose but not quite diarrhea---but twice is too much, so I take a chance and take two MORE Cipro, finding one already gone from my packet of 14 bought in Tunisia, so I still have 11 left for a "regular" treatment, if needed. Guy walks past outside with tea for "the lawyers" in the far rooms, and it's now 6:30, so I guess ours is available in the dining room. Bill comes in to say, "It's clearing more and more, so we might see something of the mountains soon." I decide to put my shoes on. 7:37AM: We stand around a long time fantasizing about the immensity of Macchupicchere becoming visible from behind its cloud-shroud, but it never clears enough to register on my camera. Tea on the lawn, then breakfast at 7: oatmeal with milk and honey, small omelet with toast and butter and jam, but I pass up the sausages and potatoes as being too much for my stomach. Turns out Phil isn't going today, but most seem to be; I say I'll be going at MY speed. Start typing DREAMS:4/17/09 at 7:40AM, birds calling in the distance. Finish typing dream at 7:44AM. Sunny out; making sure to take Imodium, ChapStick, sunglasses, sun hat, walking stick, umbrella, jacket, magazine for heaven knows why, and about a quarter-liter of water just to not have that much to carry. DO remember to put a spare set of batteries into the side pocket, along with sunscreen (maybe hopelessly separated into the sunscreen itself and the DEET that was mixed in with it, since I remember a creamy paste, and what I get now is a yellowish clear liquid which is obviously PART of the whole). Not looking forward to today; back pocket filled with LOTS of toilet paper, but I hope the two Cipro kick in to handle anything that's going on in my stomach. Phil agrees with me when I point out his half-finished plate: a little fills you up and you just don't WANT any more. He makes some joking remark about being three months younger than me, so HE can be an old codger, too. Stand mesmerized by the clouds rising and falling to the north, and finally the full shape of the central mountain, Machhupicchere, 6997 meters, called Fish-tail because of the twin peaks, becomes visible. Off at 7:55, and as we climb, the massif to the left shows bright-white with snow shining in the sun (while Fish-tail is silhouette-like, only showing bits of contrast between snow and rock on its steep slopes). The tall one at the extreme left, from our point of view, is Annapurna South, 7219 meters, seemingly taller than the more distant Annapurna I at 8091 meters. After a small dip comes the next peak, Hiunchuli, at 6441 meters, obviously closer, separated by a wide gap from Machhupicchere, and if there's any trace of a peak to the right of that, it would be Annapurna III, at 7555 meters. But, sadly, the eye is much better at resolving the rock-snow mountains from the dark-light cloud formations between them and us. Take lots of pictures anyway, hoping not to short-change the rest of the trip! Before we leave, fine salt is distributed so that we can put it between our socks (which enfold the bundled bottoms of our trousers) and our shoes, to keep out the leeches, which don't like salt. Nevertheless, at the first stop, Tapa reaches down to my shoe top and pulls off a rather large wriggling worm of a leech, and I thank him very much, though I should have thought to take a picture of it before he chucked it into the bushes. Stop at the school at 8:56---none too soon, as I'm beginning to flag, not looking forward to what I think is another 45-minute climb to the village. We wait for a break in the classes, Ram converses with the principal and the single teacher, and we're let into three classrooms: "one" has only two tiny kids, maybe three years old, cowering in a corner without a teacher in the room. "Two" has maybe 10, of which I take a picture, while Gloria, in my opinion, makes an ass of herself by trying to teach them "Eentsy Weentsy Spider," and then wondering what the translation would be. Roberta tries endlessly to get some of the girls to repeat their names. Mary is a bit more successful singing "Mary Had a Little Lamb," and some other lady is a smash by taking them through the alphabet and having them count to twenty, and even, sketchily, above. I'm reminded of the kid's questions on my solitary morning walk up the road: 1) What's your name? and 2) How old are you? Put on lots of "whatever" lotion, a sickening orangey yellow, hoping to protect myself from the sun AND from bugs, but get a bite on the inside of my left elbow that I find only later that afternoon. Leave school at 9:30 for a "45-minute climb" to the village. But only a short way up the road, after maybe ten minutes, we encounter a number of women sitting on the wall alongside the path, and I sit with others of the group across from them, grateful for the rest, and Ram announces that this is actually the entry to the village, and these are the members of the "Women's Club" come to meet us. GREAT! A beautiful tall woman with a long black queue braided with red, dressed in a sumptuously embroidered Tibetan-Chinese blouse covered by a tasteful cotton purple-red sari-type lower garment, carries a stick on which are leis of bougainvillea and lavender, which are given to each of us, and we continue a small bit up the hill to the buildings of the village at 10:02, where we're told this is "bee village" because they've drilled holes in hollow logs stopped at the ends to permit bees to enter and build their cells and produce their honey. Ask how old the old woman is. 73! Ram laughs that we could be a couple! To "old couple's" home; he's 80, she's 76, and he served in three wars: WWI, the first Nepal-Indian War, and the somethingth Nepal-China War. He only gets a small pension, as any other old person. This is a Gurkha village, and only five years ago did they lobby Parliament to be granted equal status with "real" British veterans. Then INSIDE a woman's home to see her neat array of kitchen utensils and climb the narrow stairs to her upstairs storeroom, which contains an enormous wicker basket filled with rice. She has four sons---working in Qatar, India, Malaysia, and Kathmandu. Leave at 11:05, down around a corner to see LUNCH laid out for us and a number of villagers and many of the children from school, who eat their rice with their hands. The tall handsome waiter from the Lodge appears, serves a soup that is very like a Chinese noodle ramen mix, then a vegetarian plate of curried potato, mixed vegetables, and lots of rice. They refill our water bottles, thank goodness, since I'm almost empty, and behind me they set up this enormous sound system and we're told there's going to be a dance. We clear out to a circle of chairs while they remove the lunch tables, put on some Nepali music that sounds very Indian, and from the local crowd emerges a tall, thin, graceful dancer of infinite imagination---with simple movements of hands, arms, feet, and hips---and when the music heats up, he does a series of thigh-challenging dips to the floor on one foot while the other kicks into the air, then alternates quickly like an acrobat from close to the floor to flying in the air. He selects Carolyn to dance with, and then the waiter joins in, asking first David and then me to dance, but we both refuse, and then another Nepali young girl is persuaded to dance, and later an even younger kid (who happens to be Kesh's son) joins in with glee. The JOY on their faces is so evident that it's particularly heartbreaking when the TAPE fouls up and has to be removed in ribbons. This happens TWICE. As some relief, Claude turns on his iPod and plays some American standard that he and Mary dance wonderfully to, and Bill calls my attention to the bewildered expression on the face of one of the observing Nepali women. The dancing goes on and on, and I fear I'm using too much film on it, particularly since there's a high contrast against the light outside the canopy under which they dance, and their faces can't really be discerned. This goes on to 1:05---David, Bill, and a few others joining in, to everyone's appreciation. I put 100R tip into the basket, and as I leave, the main dancer shakes hands VERY warmly with me as I say what a wonderful dancer he is, and for a moment, from the pressure of his hands, I'm reminded of Jean-Pierre. He MAY have wanted an extra tip, but I don't think so. Start down at 1:10, opting out of a 2.5-hour loop that returns by a DIFFERENT route, having had quite enough already and being quite content to retrace my steps to the Lodge. Six go the hard way: Gloria and Ed, Bob and Roberta, Claude and Bill, led by Tapa, who (Carolyn tells us) did NOT want to do it, as he wanted simply to return directly to the Lodge. I sit down at 1:30 and jot notes. Back to Lodge at 2:20, take lovely lemonade, fill my water bottle, and strip to bathing suit and Nike slippers provided in the room. Pee, order a gin and tonic, talk to Phil and Karen about the day and other trips, and tea is served (to me sitting way to the west, sitting in the shade, while all the others are in the sun), partly by a CUTE Thai with a T-shirt that reads: "Good Boys Go to Heaven; Bad Boys Go to Pattaya" on the back and "Thai Pattaya" on the front. And, like so many other attractive young men, he seems to give me a knowing eye, which is very heartwarming. Tea goes from 4-4:58, the other group returning in the meantime, Bill having fallen, but "On my ass, which is padded; I'm sore in my JOINTS." They also saw an enormous bird-sized butterfly. I type, talking between, filming the acrobat doing an air-flip, to 6PM, the call to the Communications Meeting, mostly Ram talking about climbing Everest from the Chinese side, polygamy and polyandry, and other nonsense, until dinner soup is announced at 7:04PM. Corn chowder, lasagna-like pasta and meat sauce, lots of popcorn and veggies and a glass of red wine during the meeting, and apple fritters for dessert. I'm about to leave, when Ram makes his announcements for tomorrow: 6:30 wake-up, 7AM breakfast AND luggage outside door, leave 8AM to Birikanti, via 10-15-minute waterfall detour; 1.5 hours to Pokhara, tipping Tapa and Kesh, leaving off the walking stick, going to lunch nearby, and that's all he said, other than that I could buy my water shoes at a place nearby for about $10. Back to room at 7:50, after I impart Bill's suggestion to management to flick the lights twice and then leave them ON for two minutes so we can finish final things, and start typing at 8:07PM, giving Bill 1000R to pay for my two tonics at 120 each, a gin at 150, and a glass of wine at maybe 150, a total of maybe 540R, hoping it's not ALL charged simply to room 8. Catch up with this at 8:26, rather stuffed from dinner, so I guess I'll pack, even though I'm quite tired. Annoyed at not having gotten my adapter back from Phil. Bill returns with the news they don't have change for my 1000R note, and wine is 300R, so my bill is 690R; Bill suggests Ram might have change; I think I might rifle the tip box. We'll find a way. This goes to 8:32PM, dog barking frantically AGAIN outside. Pack stuff away, bag fuller than when I came, somehow, and at 8:52 feel slightly like shitting before getting to bed. 9PM: Feel like shitting, but can't. Wash my face and hands, stomach still stuffed over an hour after dinner. But at least we'll get to bed before the lights go out. Bed 9:05PM. Think lots about how to pay all the tips, and at 11:47PM get up to type my solutions: for Trek Guide, find someone else with $10 to add my $10 by my giving $20 and taking their $10; for Assistant Trek Guide, find THREE people with $5 who are willing to let me give my $5 as part of my $20 bill in exchange for their three $5s; for the Lodge box, find TWO people willing to contribute $6 each to my $20 for the three of us; for the cute waiter, give $2, saying how I like how he looks and serves and dances; and to the little guy, $2 for his conversation and service; for the bar bill, if I can't find someone to change my 1000R note, simply give them $10, or 700R at their exchange rate, giving an inadvertent $1 tip, and getting a $10 in return, or maybe even ten singles, or two $5 bills. Get up and pee and type this to 11:52PM, hoping it will enable me to sleep peacefully the rest of the night. AND get my adapter from Phil.