Banu's Total Fitness - Update

It's incredible the difference less than two weeks can make. I am now an almost daily regular at Banu's Total Fitness and am already noticably stronger and fitter. I'm even enjoying the aerobics classes, despite the somewhat mad instructor who keeps shouting 'last 4' before making us do at least another 20 reps. But I can do it!

Now excuse me whilst I go and eat more cheesecake.

Cheesecake

Who'd have thought it, but the best cheesecake I've ever had is to be found right here in Kathmandu. And I say that with plenty of experience of cheesecake. If you ever find yourself in this fine city, I strongly suggest that you make your way to the Imago-Dei restaurant, on the road along the east wall of the Royal Palace.

So here I am, halfway round the world, with the insight to point out beautiful temples and exciting neighbourhoods, yet my first recommendation is for cheesecake.  What's up with that?

Maha Shivaratri

This past Monday was the festival to celebrate Shiva's birthday.  I went to Pashupati, the most important Hindu temple in Nepal, to soak up the atmosphere.  But first I had to get in, and that meant an hour working my way through this crowd:

It was worth the trouble.  Once inside, there was plenty to see.  As a non-Hindu, I was not allowed inside the main temple.  Due to the crowds, I couldn't even get near it.  The following is a photo from across the banks of the Bagmati River.  Note the queue of people waiting to pray there.  I spoke to some who said it took them more than four hours to get in.  The main Pashupati temple is the tall one in the middle background. 
The Bagmati is a holy river and a very popular place for cremations.  One is hit immediately by the smokiness in the air, the smell of burning and the flames on the row of ghats (cremation platforms) along the bank.  It's not as unpleasant as it might sound; the only part that gave me the momentary shivers was the sight of a body bag waiting its turn.

On the bank of the river across from the main temple complex, the Sadhus gathered.  These wandering Hindu holy men, who renounce everything for a life of austerity, make pilgrimage in their thousands from all over Nepal and India to Pashupati for the festival, and equal numbers, if not more, turn up to look at them.  They are indeed quite a sight, with their floor-length hair, painted bodies and near (or sometimes actual) nakedness.  They also smoke and sell weed and many join them.  The aroma is quite overwhelming.

I had a guide, who I sensed was not as informative as he might have been, but was nevertheless good at navigating through crowds and was able to take me to a couple of places I wouldn't have made otherwise.  One of them, the only welfare centre in Nepal, was particularly sobering.  It is a place for the truly destitute local elderly.  Whilst we were there, the residents were being entertained by a group of local and foreign volunteers singing and dancing, but there was no mistaking the awfulness of ending up living there.  That said, Pashupati is considered a particularly holy place to die, so I guess that's a plus, if you believe it.

Back in the main temple complex and along the bank, the festivities were due to continue all night, with singing and dancing for many hours to come.  Apparently the place is also beautiful lit-up.  But by five, after nearly three hours, I'd had my fill.  Although it was a fascinating experience, as a non-Hindu it was impossible for me to really get into the vibe.  There was no escaping the feeling of being so obviously a tourist, particularly when a 'holy' man gave me a tika (a red spot on the forehead), despite my protestations, then demanded a donation and became quite hostile when I refused to give it.  That was the only actual unpleasant moment.  Overall, I'm very glad I went.  It was yet another chance to experience something so distant to my 'normal' life, and what's a gap year for if not that?

Sewakendra

I first became interested, several months ago, in coming to Nepal because of a family friend, Maggie Burgess, who runs a charity (Promise Nepal) helping leprosy-affected people in the country.  The initial plan was that I'd spend my time here volunteering in one of their hospitals.  Somehow, Maggie, in consultation with her friends Rabi and Sapna, decided that I would be much better off, given my background of working in education and my total lack of experience of nursing, helping in the schools instead.  I'm glad that's how things worked out.

Nevertheless, I am still very keen to see the work that Maggie and the doctors here do to help those affected by leprosy.  It's a truly nasty disease, in terms of both the actual physical suffering as well as the social stigma attached to it.  Today I went to the main hospital that Promise Nepal supports.  It's called Sewakendra (my spelling may be off) and it's run by the delightful, totally committed Dr Prahdan.  I only had time for a quick tour but it was enough totally impressed by Dr Prahdan and the work she's doing there.  

I'll be visiting again, as well as going to other hospitals that Maggie is involved with.  I'll write more about Promise Nepal and their work when I've done so, but just wanted to mention it now as another dimension of my time here.

Some actual sightseeing

After nearly two weeks in Kathmandu, I finally got around to doing some actual sightseeing.  My initial enthusiasm for the city had been fading, the dirt and pollution becoming more obvious the longer I've been here.  Moreover, other than Baluwatar, the areas of town I'd had cause to spend time in (some shopping districts) I'd found rather charmless.  In particular, I'd hated the time I'd spent in the main backpacker hang-out area, Thamel, a few days earlier,which I'd found crowded and touristy and where I was pestered by shopkeepers and men on the street (one guy gave me directions then wouldn't leave me alone until I'd given him money) and, to make matters worse, I didn't find what I was looking for and then got back to my bike to find a flat tire.

I needed to be re-convinced about the attractiveness of the city, and so it was that on Sunday I set off on a self-guided walking tour around the Old City and Durbar Square.  Unfortunately the tour started in Thamel, where again I fell prey to an admittedly charming young boy who, after showing off his knowledge of geography and rather persistently sticking by my side for about 15 minutes, insisted that I buy milk for his baby brother.  I was happy to oblige, only to get to the shop and find that he wanted a box of powdered milk that cost an exorbitant 720 rupees.  I had the nagging sensation I'd been ripped off.  I really need to learn to be meaner sometimes.

Away from Thamel, things got much better.  The route passed by around twenty temples, stupas and shrines, beautiful but sometimes unfortunately dilapidated buildings vying for attention against dozens of market stalls and shops selling an equally eye-catching array of brightly coloured fabrics and piles of fake-labelled shoes.  I was particularly struck by one 5th or 6th century Buddha which in any Western museum would have been a prized object but here was stuck at street level between two doorways.

I thoroughly enjoyed the walk.  Once again, every sight seemed new and fascinating, from the crowded market squares to the quiet courtyards.  The architecture in the Old Town in lovely and the overwhelming impression, particularly of all the religious places, was that there was just too much to take in.  And that was before I even got to Durbar Square, the old royal centre of the city, full of magnificent temples.  I accepted the offer of a tour from a local guide, which was totally worthwhile, his extensive knowledge of history, religion and politics significantly enhancing my appreciation of the sites.

The walk back from Durbar Square was full of yet more wonder, especially the lovely Kathesimbhu Stupa, the most popular Tibetan pilgrimage site in the old city.  It was there that my camera and legs gave up on me, so, after venturing back into Thamel to recharge on chocolate cake and reclaim my bike, I went home, inspired again by the city, and looking forward to my next time off for further exploration.

A whirlwind Friday night

One of the many advantages of staying with Sapna and Rabi is that they seem to know pretty much everyone in Kathmandu and are never short of invitations to parties and concerts.  Sapna is particularly well-connected in the music world (her mother was a famous singer).  They are also fun loving people, and a night out just isn't a proper night out unless there's a margarita or three involved.

Friday night provided a good example of a varied night out; three very different activities, none of which I'd have made it to without my hosts.

The evening started with a concert hosted jointly by the Russian and French embassies.  It was a piano concert on the occasion of the centenary of Messiaen's birth, featuring two pianists, Irina Kataeva and Cristina Vinas Lefevre.  The fist part consisted of each of them playing some works by Scriabin, whom I'd never even heard of.  The music was challenging, both to listen to and no doubt to play, but totally worthwhile.  In the second part, they came together to play Messiaen's "Vision d'Amen" for two pianos.  The Russian ambassador reckoned it was the first time there had ever been a two-piano concert in Nepal.  I've always been a little scared of Messiaen but I honestly can't remember the last time I enjoyed a concert more.  The playing was an absolute tour de force - Kataeva was particularly expressive (at the end of one climax, as she hit the culminating low note, I swear I heard her say 'pow'!)  The music was much more tuneful than I had anticipated and the rhythms induced an almost trance-like state.

From the concert, we rushed to the wedding reception of one of Sapna's cousins.  It was a grand affair, in the ballroom of the Yak and Yeti - the smartest hotel in Kathmandu.  I made the faux pas of presenting the bride with something I shouldn't have.  (We were all given a scarf on arrival and several people then placed theirs around the bride's neck.  I did the same, but not being an elder relative of hers, that was inappropriate).  At least I looked so clearly out of place and confused by the whole thing that there was no doubt that I simply didn't know any better.  We stayed long enough to enjoy the ample buffet and chat with some of Sapna's friends and relatives.  Then it was time to move on again.

The third part of the night was at a dive-y bar in Patan, where some people Sapna knows from the Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory were performing.  It was the first time since I've arrived here where I've been in a room with more white faces than Nepalis.  This was a particular shock having just come from the wedding reception, where I was the only white person amongst about 700 Nepalis.  The bar could have easily have been in London or Toronto as Kathmandu.  There we met more of Sapna's friends, including a keen cyclist who goes out on regular mountain biking excursions.  I'm going to join him on some (Sapna and Rabi will let me ride their son's really good bike for this - as you may have guessed from my previous post, the bike I bought just isn't up to that).  

So, as you can see, I'm still having a lot of fun.

Riding a bike in Kathmandu

Despite the seemingly hazardous condition of the roads in Kathmandu, described in an earlier post, I have discovered that, with possesion of the following, cycling's really not so bad:

• a mask for filtering the pollution
• good breaks
• an excellent swerve reflex
• an ability to second guess what everyone else around you is planning on doing next
• a loud bell and no inhibitions about ringing it almost constantly (especially when it's dark)
• an appreciation of the fine line between being aggresive enough to get anywhere (especially at intersections) and not taking stupid risks

Thankfully, I seem to have all of this and am really enjoying the extra mobility and flexibility that a bike gives (given that I don't want to keep paying for taxis). If only the bike wasn't such a piece of rubbish (The gear chain fell of and I got two punctures within the space of about 6 hours!)

Banu's Total Fitness

It turns out that a month-long diet of shwarma, felafel, hummus and ice-cream, along with no exercise to speak of during the same period, is not so kind on the waistline. So it was that I left Israel considerably bigger and less fit than I had been in the months beforehand.

Despairing the fact that I went from being my fittest and slimmest to my heaviest and unfittest in the space of about five months, I have joined a gym in Kathmandu. A number of the teachers from MotherCare go, so there's usually someone to work out with. I've been every day since I signed up on Monday and I've been in pain ever since! My abs, in particular, seem not to have been used in years and resent the fact they are being made to do so now. The gym instructor actually laughed as I struggled to lift 2.75kg dumbells over my head and I was easily the least coordinated person in aerobics class, flailing my limbs around in a way that barely resembled the instructor's movements. On the plus side, they have really good showers.

The knowledge of fitness levels required for the two week trek that I plan to undertake in April, plus a desire to fit into my jeans again, will keep me going. There were brief moments when I was actually enjoyin the aerobics class and I trust that the fun/pain ratio will improve as I keep going.

The roads in Kathmandu

I do not understand how anyone who ventures onto the roads of Kathmandu lives to tell the tale.  Between the cars, bases, trucks, motorbikes, cyclists and pedestrians (for whom there are no pavements), it's total chaos, not helped by the almost total lack of traffic lights or road markings.  For someone so used to a city planned of a grid system, the layout here is highly confusing.  I don't think there's a straight road in the city.  Many of those that look straight on the map (which only has a fraction of the streets on it anyway) really comprise of sharp twists and turns.  Baluwatar, the area I'm staying in, is particularly maze-like.  Some streets now have names but that's a relatively recent invention and lots of people don't know them yet.  And even if you do manage to avoid getting knocked down or totally lost, there's still the impending feeling that you're only seconds away from getting lung cancer.

So, riding the bike that I've just bought is going to be interesting.

363 spectacular kilometers on the back of a motorbike

Now there's a blog-post title to make my mother nervous!

Rabi's adventure company had organised a Valentine's weekend motorbike ride, from Kathmandu to Narayangarh via Daman and Hetauda on the way and Malekhu on the way back.  I was invited to join, originall on the assumption that I'd go along for the ride in the back-up car.  However, once we were out of the city, I was offered the opportunity to ride pillion with one of the tour leaders and didn't hesitate to say yes.  After that, there was no looking back and I stayed on the bike until just befpre we went back in Kathmandu the next day.

In terns of most excellent gap year adventures, the trip is right up there.  Everything about it was breathtaking.  The road was full of twists and turns and every one revealed something spectacular or fascinating to look at.  Needless to say, the scenery was incredible.  I'll never forget my first view of the Himalayas, the snow-capped peaks seeming to rise out of nowhere.  The number of different types of scenery we passed was almost too much to take in, from mountains to pine forests, terraced valleys to lush Terai flatlands.  The best voews were from Daman, where the relatively gentle colours of the mountains and trees were offset by the bright red rhododendrons, the national flower of Nepal.

It's hard to imagine ever getting tired of views like that, but what really made the trip interesting were the people we passed along the way.  On the first day, we took a back road that is dotted with houses and villages that seem impossibly far from anywhere else.  I was always surprised to see people walking along the road, knowing that it would take hours for them to get anywhere in either direction - such sightings, however, were relatively common, be they men and women carrying heavy loads or groups of school children (it is not uncommon for children in Nepal to walk four hours in each direction to get to and from school).  I love the fact that wherever you are in the world, a smile and a wave is enough to form a connection, however fleeting, with anyone.  And then there were the animals - cows, goats, dogs (all of which are totally mangy), and even a few monkeys - adding to the sense of chaos.  As well as the the quiet villages, we also passed through a few bustling towns - colourful, noisy, dirty places.  I'm still at that stage where everything is new, exciting and fascinating.  

As well as everything there was to see, there was, of course, also the thrill of riding on the bike.  It took me a little while to get used to - suffice to say that these were not the smoothest, straightest roads in the world.  Once I got my balance, however, and realised that Dursin, who was riding the bike, was a perfectly safe rider, it became totally exhilarating - all the excitement of being on a bike without any of the pressure of driving it on such unforgiving roads.  There's nothing quite like the feeling of speeding along, arms outstretched, feeling the wind in your hair (metaphorically speaking as I was wearing a helmet, incidentally the only one of hundreds of pillion riders I ever saw doing so).  And on top of that, there was also the fun of being with the group, all total motorbike enthusiasts and just really nice guys.  Since they work for Rabi,and I'm often in the office, I'm sure I'll be seeing much more of them.

So, a fantastic couple of days.  I've been sore ever since (sitting on that bike for so many hours, I discovered muscles in my upper legs I never knew I had), but it was totally worth it.

Settling into Kathmandu

I'm having no trouble settling in here.  No time was wasted getting me working at MotherCare (the private school - I'll be coming to the other shortly).  I will be mostly working with the eldest children.  Today was the first time I taught 'numbers'.  The children were sat in a circle and I was pretty much told 'go'.  I did some addition with them and made up some games on the fly, but it all seemed rather chaotic because I had very little idea what they already knew and what style of maths teaching they were used to.  Some things I did worked, others didn't but at least I'll know for next time.  The children seem to respond well to me though and I think we're building up a rapport, though they laugh at me when I try to pronounce their names (the hardest is actually the girl from Iceland - Snjolaug).  In Nepal, it is common to call people by their designation.  Thus I am Ella-teacher, which I quite like.  Other than maths, I also read to them - since their books are in English it makes sense to have a native speaker do so.  They don't have that many books at the school, though, and the children seem to know most things I've read almost by heart.

I've yet to start work in the other school - The Orchard something.  That starts on Monday but I visited today.  That's an entirely different kettle of fish.  It's a charity school and all the kids are from very poor homes.  The thing that struck me was how dirty they were compared to those at MotherCare, only to be told that I should have seen them when they started.  The school was founded and is still run by a woman called Bina.  When she set up the school she had to find the children to attend it.  She found several of them, many as young as 18 months, at home alone, tied to beds, with a little rice and water nearby whilst both the parents were out at work, trying to make ends meet.

There is an incredibly loving vibe in the school.  Bina is one of those people who just exudes warmth and affection and the children bask in it.  When I visited, the kids proudly and joyfully showed off that they knew their numbers up to ten, days of the week, months and some body parts.  The educational standards may not be high, and resources severely lacking, but they are well cared for there and fed twice a day (Sapna, through MotherCare, donates the rice).  I will be there on Mondays and Tuesdays, helping out in whatever way I can.  I can't wait.

I've had a little more time to walk around some parts of Kathmandu and am still struck both by how foreign and familiar it is.  There's something about the city that I find very beautiful, although I can't quite put my finger on what it is.  I hope to be able to post some photos.

This afternoon I met with an old family friend who has been working at a school in a village which is a six hour bus ride then three hour jeep ride from the city.  She described her living conditions - no electricity, no running water, only daal bhaat (rice and lentils) to eat - as well as the traditional lifestyle and values held in the village.  Compared to that, I'm living a life of luxury.  Actually, it seems that my lifestyle in Kathmandu will not be too far off the one I was leading in Toronto and London.

Greetings from Nepal

I made it!

The trip was off to a good start before I even touched down in Kathmandu - the view from the plane coming in over the mountains was beautiful, then landing to a sunny, 22 degree day. I was met by Rabi who drove me to his home, where I'll be staying. My first impressions on the drive were how colourful the place is and how busy.

Rabi and Sapna have a lovely home. It's a huge house in one of the nicest parts of the city. Apparently it's very quiet, although I dread to think what the noisy parts of town are like! Their house is also very Westernised, with flushing toilets, a hot shower and all amenities. The only snag is that there is loadsharing with electricty in Nepal. At the moment, we're only getting 4-8 hours a day and at peculiar times.

This is just one way that I feel perched on the edge between Western and third world culture. Similarly, visiting the local supermarket and finding it full of Colgate, Cadburys and the like.

I will be spending three days a week at a private Montessori-based nursery school (up to age six). The school is run by Sapna and, again, sits perched on the Western/Nepali boundary. In many ways, the classrooms wouldn't look out of place in an English primary school, with art, English words and numbers etc up on the walls and the kids sitting in groups. Although primarily Nepali kids, there's also a distinct international feel. I think several of the kids are there for a year or two whilst their parents are doing diplomatic or VSO work of some kind in Nepal.

Ostensibly, I'm there to help with maths, but unsurprisingly, as in any primary school, I'll also be helping out with whatever needs doing. On my first day I participated in a Nepali dance class, much to the amusement of the kids. Today I went on a school trip to the city's heart hospital, where one student's father is a surgeon. There has been no maths yet, unless you count the fact that I've learnt the numbers up to ten in Nepali. I'm really trying to learn the language, not least because the people I'm meeting respond well to the fact that I'm making an effort. I think Sapna and Rabi are relieved to have a house guest who is so open to new experiences. This was not the case with their last one.

I have to get back to class in a minute, so I'll leave this post by saying that I'm so happy to be here and that I don't think I'm going to have any problems adjusting. I have already made a friend, Lhaden, who is a teacher at the school. Three months here is going to fly by.

To Nepal

The really big adventure begins now.  In less than six hours I'll be on my way to Nepal, where I'll be spending three months.  The precise details of what I'll be doing there are yet to be set.  I'll be living with a couple called Sapna and Rabi.  She runs a Montessori nursery school and is in the process of opening another school for older students.  My main job, I believe, will be helping her out with that.  Rabi runs a trekking company so I also hope to do a good deal of that.  On top of that, I'll spend some time helping out in a leprosy colony; Maggie, the woman who runs the charity that supports it, is a family friend and that's how I'm ending up in Nepal in the first place.  Other than that, who knows.

Needless to say, I'm incredibly excited, with a little bit of apprehension thrown in for good measure.  It's by far the longest I've spent traveling in one go (six weeks was my previous maximum).   Moreover, it's my first time in a third world country.  I'd been worried about internet access, but apparently I'm getting ahead of myself - even electricity will be a problem.  I'll keep this blog as up-to-date as I can.

Right, I guess I'm off then.

The Negev

Out of a month's worth of so many wonderful and varied experiences, it's almost impossible to pick a highlight.  That said, my last two days in Israel, which were spent in the Negev desert, are a top contender for the best thing I did.

I was keen to go back to the Negev after such a disappointing time there with Birthright (we went for a 'Bedouin Desert Experience' which felt very contrived and not at all like being in the desert).  Noach, from the Israeli Guide Dog Center for the Blind, gave me the phone number of a ranger, Gal, who worked down there and before I knew it I was on my way to Mitzpe Ramon.

Mitzpe Ramon, as a town, has absolutely nothing to distinguish it, except for the fact that it sits at the edge of the Makhtesh Crater, which is something of an oddity.  It is one of the largest geologically formed craters in the world, approximately 40km long, 9km wide and 400m deep (the photo is a view into the crater).

The town has a reasonable visitors' center with a worthwhile film describing the crater's formation and providing an introduction to the plant and animal life that lives in the area, which is far greater than I had imagined, given the aridness of the place.

Soon after, I met Gal.  I hadn't appreciated beforehand just what an amazing job he has.  As a ranger, he is responsible for the wildlife in the southern Negev, an area amounting to a tenth of Israel.  Moreover, his is the only region in Israel to have no villages, settlements or agriculture - it is just desert and army bases.  For over nine hours, spread over two days, Gal drove me around his terrain.  He took me to places where almost no-one goes and which I'd never have got to without him.  We were about as remote as one can be in Israel.  

He taught me all about the animal and plant life of the area, as well as about the archeological remains from the settlers who passed through there 1000-3000 years ago.  He took me to his favourite tree, an Atlantic Pistachio (coincidentally, know as an ella tree in Hebrew), to watch the sunset and the stars rise, whilst we drank tea he brewed from a plant he found there.  What a sight!  There was not an artificial light anywhere to be seen.  It's the darkest place in the Mediterranean to watch the sky.  I have never seen such an abundance of stars - we could even see the Milky Way!  And it was also, I think, the quietest place I've ever been.  Incredible.  On the way back, since it was dark, we looked for animals (most of which are nocturnal).  We saw a fox, a hare and a kangaroo jird (a bit like a large gerbil), which was rather exciting.  We did not, unfortunately, see a leopard, although a few do live there.

And as if that wasn't enough, Gal and his girlfriend Lior, met me the next morning at 4:30 and took me to another fabulous spot to watch the sunrise.  It was, again, incredible, and all the better for not being overrun with other people with the same idea (making it a much better experience than watching the sunrise at Massada).  Since we got to the spot whilst it was still dark, we could watch as the sky changed from one beautiful colour to the next.  

Then it was on to meet an ornithologist who was in search of a particularly rare bird in order to be able to tag it to track its migration.  As luck would have it, one flew into his net right when we were there.

Later in the day (although still only 8am), I went for a hike, by myself, into the crater.  It was very well signposted, but I must admit to feeling a little uneasy for the first 45 minutes or so (the hike was two hours in total).  Once I relaxed, walking in the crater was mindblowing - every step down was like a step into thousands of years of the history of the earth.  After having spent almost all of the previous month talking and thinking about the history of Israel and the Jews, politics, religion and conflict, there was something extraordinarily refreshing about contemplating a landscape that had been around for tens of millions of years before humans even existed.

My last stop was the Bio Ramon, a sanctuary for the smaller of the desert animals.  Since Lior works there, she showed me around and let me hold some of the animals, including a snake (unfortunately, I'm having trouble uploading pictures, so you can't see the one of me looking completely freaked out by this).

Then, it was back to Tel Aviv, and less than 24 hours after being in the desert, I was back in a very cold England.