Wet
and Wild
- All Across Nepal
When
I came back to Nepal after my month long absence,
I came back to a new
and different Nepal, a green and
very wet Nepal. Ah, the
monsoon has arrived and none
too soon. Just in time
to throw up watery obstacles to
my well-intentioned
plans to take some time off to see
the countryside. People
here ebb and flow in
accordance with the
wishes of the rain gods, who seem
to take delight and
perverse pleasure in giving us one
long three month
shower. The roads dissolve under the
deluge, rivers swell to
ten times their original size,
the pure, clean
Himalayan spring water turns an ugly
shade of brown, leeches
hide in the smallest puddles,
enormous clouds obscure
any sight of a massive
mountain range towering
over us, landslides wipe away
homes, roads, people,
and everyone is always wet…
But
the rains also sustain the rice crops, turn the
hillsides a luscious
shade of green, and make
traveling interesting
to say the least. I was amazed
at the changes in just
a month at my school. The
previous brown dirt
path was no now like wading
through the rain
forest. The mountains were so green
beneath the beautiful
misty fog settling into the
nooks and crannies. The
corn I saw planted had grown
into gawky teenagers
towering over me. The school was
no longer on the
morning schedule due to heat, because
the rains brought
cooling breezes. And the stagnant
pools of water under
the bridge in town had become a
raging river. I was told when the alarm blow
from upriver, get to
high ground as fast as
possible. The dam five
kms away is overflowing and
they are opening the
locks, sending a tidal wave through the valley.
Roads
are sometimes hard to tell from rivers...
I
tried to make the best of it and planned a pilgrimage, a circuit through
Nepal, to take in the Terai and western Nepal and circle back to Pokhara. The highlight of
my trip, a visit to Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha. And I decided to
go by motorbike. My friend Devi
and I set off with a small backpack secured to the rack at the
rear of the bike by a bunjee cord. I jerk it around to make sure it is secure.
I wrap our rain coats over it and tucked them under the
bunjee to keep them secured yet accessible in this season of instant
deluge.
We
started from Pokhara and
rode down the extremely familiar stretch to Aaboo Kheireni, passing
Damauli and Dumre in short order. None too soon, I am happy that we are
traveling by motorbike, when we hit our first big landslide. The
Kathmandu - Pokhara highway is constantly plagued by landslides
throughout the monsoon, esp the area around Krishnabhir.
We
manage to get through and quite muddy in the process, by rolling up our
pant legs and with brute force, pushing it.
After visiting with friends at my
school in Aaboo Kheireni, we
set off for the Terai. The journey is slow going as we stop to forge
rivers, help people cross and frequently detour out of the way for
washed out bridges.
Devi helping some girls to cross
the road
But,
despite all the delays, slowly and surely I am drawn to Lumbini.
Our motorbike and pack at a kid
and cow crossing.
Nepal is a long thin country and
divided in half the long way. It
straddles the flat as a pancake Indian plains and
the roof of the world
high altitude Tibetan plateau
with great Himalayas in between.
One the one side, Nepal
has eight of the world's highest peaks
within
it’s borders with the highly populated foothills
snuggled under their shadows. On
the other side is the
Terai, the flat plains
alternately filled with
jungles and the country'a industrial belt. And also
home to the birthplace of Buddha,
Lumbini.
Nothing,
not even the wildlife will stop me.
As
the story goes, Siddhartha Gautama, aka Buddha was
born to the king of the
small kingdom of Kapilavastu.
When he was born, the
prophets indicated that indeed a
great man had been
born, but that he would take either
of two paths. If he chose to lead, he would conquer and unite the countries
of the world, but if he
rejected that life, he
would become a world redeemer.
His father, anxious to
have his son follow in his
footsteps secluded him
within the palace walls for
twenty nine years, at
which point, he secretly
ventured outside the
walled fortress. On his single
foray, he saw four
things that would change the course
of his life. A sick
man, a dead man, a poor man and an
old man. This led him
to renounce the materialistic
world and to seek
‘enlightenment.’ His birthplace today, is a constant
place of pilgrimage of Buddhists
around the globe. Maya
Devi, Buddha’s mother was said
to have taken a journey
from the palace to visit her
home and en route
stopped at Lumbini, then a quiet,
lovely spot for a potty
break. She bathed in a small
pond on the sight and
went into labor. She took a few steps from the pond,
stopped under a massive papal
tree, grabbed a branch
and gave birth to Buddha.
Today,
the pond is still there, although in a very
renovated form while
the tree and previous temple on
the spot of the actual
birth, were demolished to make
way for archeological
digs. The spot is a very
peaceful and ephemeral
place, dotted with a few small
monasteries, but give
it a year or two and you won’t
recognize it. The
Buddhist countries of the world are
each building large
commercial monasteries right near
the site and promoting
them to tourists with ‘instant
enlightenment’
packages. There is also an ambitious
plan to build parks,
canals and gardens on the sight
and turn it into
basically a botanical
garden/religious theme
park. But for now, it remains
mysterious and elusive,
as enlightment should be…
Ughhhhh, he says, sticking his
tongue out...
From
Butwal, we decided to take the beautiful but dangerous Siddhartha
highway, cutting up through the Chure Hills and the Mahabharat
Range. It was a cliff-hugging, winding trail that alternated between
asphalt and mud. A dangerous section indeed.
We
saw a number of road accidents along the way...
But
it would take us though the mountainside town of Tansen, a beautiful
Newari town, complete
with cobblestone streets and
pastel colored
buildings, temples and wood carved
windows, and green grass growing thickly across rooftops. The town
is terribly charming, esp due to its off the beaten path nature. Who
dare the highway to come here?
But
what a gem...
I
had the
local specialty, choela and
hasko choela (boiled and
fried buffalo and duckmeat.) at Nanglo West, a very cute offshoot
of the Kathmandu original, taking in the scene in the square from the
overlooking balcony.
On
the edge of town is a large open field, a mass gathering takes place
every evening. Snacks sellers push their carts to the edge of the
fields. Families with picnic baskets set out their blankets. Couples
walk hand in hand. Kids start games of soccer. Balloon sellers do brisk
business. There is a fair happening every day of the year in this open
field overlooking the valley.
As we continued our path back to
Pokhara, we passed towns like Whaling and Sanjya. We were continually
plagued by massive
boulders blocking our path and the rivers that diverted their flow to
the road. And still other
parts, the slightest
breeze might have sent us
plunging off the
cliffside. But it was also
indescribably
beautiful. But perhaps the one thing that is drilled in my mind, if only
for the constant repitition is this wonderful sign, blanketing all of
Nepal... I think you can guess what it says...
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