A Hike in the Hills

What some of us may call “mountains” are mere “hills” in Nepal. A mountain is something that towers above the clouds. Recently we joined friends for a hair-raising drive to a lovely hilly getaway at Namobuddha, just on the rim outside the city. Supposedly, there is a view of actual mountains from the hilltop resort, but we did not see any evidence of this. In late April in Kathmandu, after a long dusty winter where fires abound for warmth and heat, and before the monsoons have started to knock down factory and vehicle exhaust, everything is hazy.

Partiers wave an enthusiastic goodbye,
the kids can't get out quick enough.

Regardless, we enjoyed a lovely locally grown lunch while the kids pecked at their food and played on the hillside, and then took a hike over to one of the ubiquitous hilltop monasteries. Remarkable notes on the walk included, 1) actual trees in what could rightly be termed a forest, 2) a number of Nepali picnic-parties along the way, rife with loud music, local beer, and revelry (with one of such a giddy mood that all of us – especially the reluctant kids – were pulled in to participate in dancing / clapping / cheering), and 3) a high vantage point over a hazy valley that made one really, really wish the air would clear because the view must surely be spectacular.

Here are the we hikers as we set out.

Here they are again, at our destination. 

Daily Rhythm at My Desk

Woof.

Woof.

Cockadoodle, cockadoodle;

Woof woof barking running mad pack:

Ding-a-ling temple bell.

Honk! Honk-honk-honk!

Ding-a-ling temple bell.

Cockadoodle, "Amaa!!" 

"Eh?"

Clink! Clink! Tumble glass!

Motorbike buzzz.

"Amaa!!"

Rumble bumble old truck.

Engine starting generator buzz.

Ping! Ping ping bong! Metal drum bong!

Beep beep! Crrryyyy baby.

Moooo.

Ring ring bicycle bell, Seller's ca-aaalll! Ring! 

Come to the biii-cycle!!! Buy my stuu-uufff!

Clink, clink, bong!

Ha-BAA. At-TAA. Monks! Do! Exercise! YAH!

Murmur-and-roar, men-next-door, mumble, murmur want a job send me abroad. 

Metal rumble store fronts tumble come and buy some coke and soap.

Blaaaare-of-a-horn-tru-umpet. It's time for puuuja! 

Beep beep honk!

Door SLAM! Yell!! Mad or glad? Shriek and laugh.

Tick tick, belch.

Yelling clink clink! Tumble glass!

Loud-speaker! Listen to me! Words and music!

Sizzle, sizzle, fry.

Bumpy tractor bouncing by.

"Eh?"

Flap, flap, sheets shake and fold.

Cough-hawk-spit.

Woof woof beep!

Cockadoodle.

Rumble.

Beep!

Best Buys

We've found that living abroad entails a few deprivations--mostly minor reminders of America. There remain a few items that make our lives so much easier and more comfortable that we're frequently reminded of how grateful we are to have made these best buys.

1. VPN (virtual private network). How did we live abroad for over 2 years before we finally purchased one! It allows us to mask our location and change it virtually to the U.S. (or a bunch of other places). It allows us to view webpages (barnesandnoble.com) and services (Netflix) that are not available to people with a non-US ISP. Thus, we've been able to watch non-Bollywood movies and the Olympics (thanks CBC and BBC, but not NBC).

2. Couch covers. In a world where EVERYONE has the identical furniture including couches, ours can at least appear to the different than others.

3. Espresso Machine. Have a favorite corner coffee shop that serves espresso, lattes, and mochas?  We don't. Even if we did, we'd still be grateful to have an espresso machine to save us from a treacherous drive for some coffee.

4. UPS (uninterruptible power supply). A battery back-up to keep power on the TV, DVD player, and computer during the frequent power fluctuations/outages saves us the agony of losing work on the computer or having to re-start the movie multiple times.

5. Pam. Yes, it's that useful. You try going without cooking spray and see how your baked goods turn out.

Tips for walking around Kathmandu

1. Always walk with your mouth closed and watch your step
2. Be aware of wandering cows (see #1)
3. Don't bother covering your cough because the person next to you is hawking up a spitball (see #1)
4. Bring a change of shoes (see #1)

Cave-like temperatures

If you look at the average winter weather in Kathmandu, you will find it quite reasonable. At the coldest time of year (now-ish), it gets into the low 30's at night and up to the 60's during the day. 


Despite this salient fact, if you take a vote of expat residents, you will find a majority say that they have never been so cold. Seriously! This is scientifically proven by people from Wisconsin, upstate New York, and Finland independently stating that they have never been so cold as in Kathmandu.

Why is it so cold if it doesn't even freeze? (I won't even mention the fact that it is often sunny). 
#1: Short days mean the cold, concrete brick-built walls of the house spend more time losing heat at night than gaining heat during the day.

#2: Draftiness of windows, particularly in the bathrooms, and exterior doors.

#3: No central heat. You can heat up a room with a space heater, or build a nest of blankets right next to one as my child and dog are wont to do, but the plan fact is that the STUFF in the room does not heat up. Chair - cold. Bedsheets - cold. Jeans -cold. Floor tiles - cold. Etc. 

#4: (Not applicable to those of us so lucky as to be in USG housing) The power goes out. A lot. In fact, at peak times of "load-shedding" a home might have power for 8 or 10 hours out of 24. "Load-shedding" is a term that means "there is not enough electricity to go around from our hydro power plant during the dry season so you have to take turns." Bye-bye electric space-heater, hello indoor parka.

It goes like this. One night, you notice a nip in the air when you go to bed, and turn the space heater on when you get up. A few nights later, the indoor temperature is a bit lower. A week later, even lower, as those concrete bricks start evening out with the nighttime air temp rather than the daytime air temp. Now, you turn on the heater when you get ready for bed, too, and be sure to get your clothes for the next morning out of the closet because it is REALLY cold in there (Andrew is using it for our wine stash). By morning, air temp in the bedroom is 55 F. Just try taking your tushy into that drafty bathroom that is noticeably colder than the bedroom, and you, too, will begin your day saying you have never been so cold. 

Stuff! And lack thereof.

I'm not kidding about the parade! Nine guys just
 in this picture, but they each had their job.

On Halloween day, five little trucks drew up to our house, each holding a shipping crate or two. In a symphony of belching trucks, hammers and crowbars, shoes slipping on and off, our boxes were paraded into the house.


After having gone through all our boxes, we have discovered an assortment of items that just did not make the trip from Nairobi. Pinched by the movers? Pilfered at the port? Misplaced in a cabinet, drawer or closet during the packing of boxes? I have my suspicions but just don't know. Here are some of the items that didn't make it:

• 2 brand-new in package pairs antibacterial kitchen shears
• Assorted pantry items, like powdered cheese and unopened 3-gallon bottles of olive oil
• A chenille rug that was down in the guest room (the matching pillow made it)
• One girls size 7 rain jacket
• All our salad forks (yes, all the other silverware made it)

Adjusting

I have to admit to having a bit of a hard time settling in to Kathmandu. One reason is that, from the moment you are cogent enough to remember in actually speaking to anyone after a jet-lagged arrival, everyone at this very friendly post asks, "So how are you settling in?" You don't really know these people, so you say what is expected. It's going well, of course.

But in truth, I feel like we are having difficulty finding the ending to the phrase "home is where the...".  Our household effects seem to be taking their sweet time getting here. We don't have our car, and won't for a while because somehow it didn't get put on the manufacturing list for August, and will be manufactured this month. Supposedly. And life at the French school has proven to be a real challenge for the little one. Just about every blessed thing is in French, unlike the 50/50 plan they had when we enrolled. Mixed in with dual culture shock (Nepali and French), my little type A is finding it very difficult to cope. The advantages of gaining a second language and having a short commute to school are starting to lose weight.

We are also in "Daishan" season in Nepal. This is a huge family holiday - the Nepali equivalent of Christmas. Everything closes and everyone goes back to their home, be it city or village. There is music, lights, lots of marigolds and people dressed in amazing fancy saris. It feels very festive. Which makes me a little sad. We haven't been here long enough to have "people", we can't get around to go anywhere, we quickly tire of the near-falling-apart taxis in the insane traffic, and the kiddo is terrified of walking, on account of the motorbikes buzzing and constant honking used as a form of traffic communication.

But today I saw 3 kites being flown from rooftops. Apparently kite flying also goes with the season. Made me smile. We'll see how tomorrow goes.