I have been back from Nepal for a week now and life back home, quiet and still and British, still feels odd. I have left both the hustle and bustle of Kathmandu's touristic Thamel district and the challenges of my voluntary placement in the quiet, traditional Thecho. The Kathmandu Valley is thousands of miles away and now seems as good a time as any to partake in some self-indulgent reflection.
Kathmandu really does hit you with full-throttle sensory overload. My car journey from Tribhuvan Airport was a relatively short one but took an absolute age thanks to the sheer madness of Nepali roads (and drivers!). Horns blaring, cars sharply swerving to avoid apparently suicidal motorcyclists, tiny buses packed with passengers leaning out of the windows and an endless parade of mangy street dogs darting in and out of the traffic...I became acutely aware of the lack of seatbelts in my car. The streets of Kathmandu and narrow, bumpy and, more often than not, distinctly lacking in pavement. After this educational journey we arrived in the Thamel district. This has been the hub of tourist activity in Kathmandu since the first travellers arrived on the Hippie Trail in the 60s and 70s. I feel some of that initial alternative escapism must have been lost somewhere down the line. Thamel in 2013 feels more commercial and a tad seedier than I assume it would have been back in the day. That being said, among the knock-off DVD shops and souvenir stands, there is a definite buzz about the place and watching German tourists attempt to grasp the concept of haggling whilst trying to buy some prayer flags is always a treat. Thamel is also a transitory place, a starting off point for greater adventures. People use Thamel as a base for their trekking, volunteering or extreme sports. As such, there is always someone interesting to talk to. I befriended a group of Spanish girls who were volunteering in a local hospital, for example.
Also whilst in Kathmandu I had basic Nepali lessons from Urmila who also took me to see some of the main sights. These included Swayambhunath and Pashupatinath, the chief Buddhist and Hindu temples. Swayambhunath is also known as 'Monkey Temple', thanks to the large number of rhesus macacques which climb all over the area. I have to admit that my camera was used more for pictures of monkeys than the temple! That being said the temple, or stupa, is certainly impressive. It is situated atop a hillside and commands impressive views over the Kathmandu Valley. I'm told that on a fine day you can see Everest & co, but sadly it was rainy season and the sky was clouded over as it brewed its next thunderstorm.
One of the beautiful things about Nepal's religious sites - aside from the temples themselves - is the peaceful way in which religion operates in the country. Nepal is predominantly Hindu with a large Buddhist minority and you can find people of both faiths worshipping at temples side by side. The only exception to this is that the majority of 'main temples' at Hindu sites are closed to non-Hindus. This, however, is usually clearly marked by a sign and the rest of the sites have enough points of interest to fulfill the spiritual needs of those of all faiths and none. The main Hindu temple is Pashupatinath. As I said, as a non-Hindu I could not enter the main temple but I did have access to the many smaller temples, mostly dedicated to Shiva. Perhaps this is just a sign of a misspent youth, but I thought this was reminiscent of several levels on Tomb Raider 3.
My volunteer placement was in a small village called Thecho, a twenty minute or so drive outside of Kathmandu. I say village but it was hard to identify as such. It is a collection of houses and shops. Not even a temple acts as a central point, with various shrines dotted about the place. Still, on my first few days one of my students, Birpina, showed me around. We intended to climb to a hillside temple, but heavy rains prevented our ascent. Still, we went to a small shrine which was situated beside a beautiful lake full of as-yet-unblossomed lotus flowers. We definitely took the path less travelled, balancing precariously on unstable lakeside walls, makeshift bamboo bridges and desperately muddy country tracks. Constantly beeped out of the way by motorbikes, we walked for miles giving me plenty of the vividly green landscape to soak in. Water infuses everything in the Kathmandu Valley. The water from the lakes, the rivers and the trains soaks porously through every inch of the lustrous peaks and sodden valleys of this region. Nepal definitely sticks to you. From the combination of the mud, the humidity and my insect repellent, I can't say I ever felt wholly clean during my stay. That's not a negative observation. To me, this is another indicator of how Nepal embraces you. The mountains embrace the valley and its air embraces you. You feel the environment on your skin and in your clothes. You become part of that place and not even the presence of reliable hot water could scrub it off your skin.
Teaching was definitely a challenge in Thecho. The school was cramped, with tiny classrooms and basic facilities. It's an intense and intimidating space to teach in. You have no distance from your students and it is you alone who teachers them. No technology is going to back you up. This was frightening but also quite reaffirming. I didn't choke. The kids participated. I had to raise my voice sometimes, but on the whole we had a good rapport. They survived and so did I. Maybe I'm OK at this.
My only issue with my time in Nepal was the constant worry that I hadn't made the most of it. It being both my placement and Nepal itself. As I said, I was in a village. After work there was not a hell of a lot to do. The teaching was overwhelmingly rewarding, but how much of that strange, wonderful place did I really experience? And, with my placement being so short, how much difference did I really make? Volunteering is a task usually undertaken with the best of intentions but you have to assess whether a) what you are doing is beneficial to those you are trying to help and b) it will help you get what you want out of your trip. I loved Neal but, in total honesty here, I think I would've gained more from trekking or extreme sports than I did volunteering. I adored my kids, but I know I want to see more of Nepal than I have seen. Do more, feel more, think more. I left with a sense of not-knowing, an incompleteness that definitely warrants me a trip back to that beautiful, baffling place.
Kathmandu really does hit you with full-throttle sensory overload. My car journey from Tribhuvan Airport was a relatively short one but took an absolute age thanks to the sheer madness of Nepali roads (and drivers!). Horns blaring, cars sharply swerving to avoid apparently suicidal motorcyclists, tiny buses packed with passengers leaning out of the windows and an endless parade of mangy street dogs darting in and out of the traffic...I became acutely aware of the lack of seatbelts in my car. The streets of Kathmandu and narrow, bumpy and, more often than not, distinctly lacking in pavement. After this educational journey we arrived in the Thamel district. This has been the hub of tourist activity in Kathmandu since the first travellers arrived on the Hippie Trail in the 60s and 70s. I feel some of that initial alternative escapism must have been lost somewhere down the line. Thamel in 2013 feels more commercial and a tad seedier than I assume it would have been back in the day. That being said, among the knock-off DVD shops and souvenir stands, there is a definite buzz about the place and watching German tourists attempt to grasp the concept of haggling whilst trying to buy some prayer flags is always a treat. Thamel is also a transitory place, a starting off point for greater adventures. People use Thamel as a base for their trekking, volunteering or extreme sports. As such, there is always someone interesting to talk to. I befriended a group of Spanish girls who were volunteering in a local hospital, for example.
Also whilst in Kathmandu I had basic Nepali lessons from Urmila who also took me to see some of the main sights. These included Swayambhunath and Pashupatinath, the chief Buddhist and Hindu temples. Swayambhunath is also known as 'Monkey Temple', thanks to the large number of rhesus macacques which climb all over the area. I have to admit that my camera was used more for pictures of monkeys than the temple! That being said the temple, or stupa, is certainly impressive. It is situated atop a hillside and commands impressive views over the Kathmandu Valley. I'm told that on a fine day you can see Everest & co, but sadly it was rainy season and the sky was clouded over as it brewed its next thunderstorm.
One of the beautiful things about Nepal's religious sites - aside from the temples themselves - is the peaceful way in which religion operates in the country. Nepal is predominantly Hindu with a large Buddhist minority and you can find people of both faiths worshipping at temples side by side. The only exception to this is that the majority of 'main temples' at Hindu sites are closed to non-Hindus. This, however, is usually clearly marked by a sign and the rest of the sites have enough points of interest to fulfill the spiritual needs of those of all faiths and none. The main Hindu temple is Pashupatinath. As I said, as a non-Hindu I could not enter the main temple but I did have access to the many smaller temples, mostly dedicated to Shiva. Perhaps this is just a sign of a misspent youth, but I thought this was reminiscent of several levels on Tomb Raider 3.
My volunteer placement was in a small village called Thecho, a twenty minute or so drive outside of Kathmandu. I say village but it was hard to identify as such. It is a collection of houses and shops. Not even a temple acts as a central point, with various shrines dotted about the place. Still, on my first few days one of my students, Birpina, showed me around. We intended to climb to a hillside temple, but heavy rains prevented our ascent. Still, we went to a small shrine which was situated beside a beautiful lake full of as-yet-unblossomed lotus flowers. We definitely took the path less travelled, balancing precariously on unstable lakeside walls, makeshift bamboo bridges and desperately muddy country tracks. Constantly beeped out of the way by motorbikes, we walked for miles giving me plenty of the vividly green landscape to soak in. Water infuses everything in the Kathmandu Valley. The water from the lakes, the rivers and the trains soaks porously through every inch of the lustrous peaks and sodden valleys of this region. Nepal definitely sticks to you. From the combination of the mud, the humidity and my insect repellent, I can't say I ever felt wholly clean during my stay. That's not a negative observation. To me, this is another indicator of how Nepal embraces you. The mountains embrace the valley and its air embraces you. You feel the environment on your skin and in your clothes. You become part of that place and not even the presence of reliable hot water could scrub it off your skin.
Teaching was definitely a challenge in Thecho. The school was cramped, with tiny classrooms and basic facilities. It's an intense and intimidating space to teach in. You have no distance from your students and it is you alone who teachers them. No technology is going to back you up. This was frightening but also quite reaffirming. I didn't choke. The kids participated. I had to raise my voice sometimes, but on the whole we had a good rapport. They survived and so did I. Maybe I'm OK at this.
My only issue with my time in Nepal was the constant worry that I hadn't made the most of it. It being both my placement and Nepal itself. As I said, I was in a village. After work there was not a hell of a lot to do. The teaching was overwhelmingly rewarding, but how much of that strange, wonderful place did I really experience? And, with my placement being so short, how much difference did I really make? Volunteering is a task usually undertaken with the best of intentions but you have to assess whether a) what you are doing is beneficial to those you are trying to help and b) it will help you get what you want out of your trip. I loved Neal but, in total honesty here, I think I would've gained more from trekking or extreme sports than I did volunteering. I adored my kids, but I know I want to see more of Nepal than I have seen. Do more, feel more, think more. I left with a sense of not-knowing, an incompleteness that definitely warrants me a trip back to that beautiful, baffling place.
