58.25 Nepal: Wandering and wondering about Kathmandu...it's no wonder that we wander...plus an inclusion of a few high hills for completion.

Kalm before Kathmandu.
Sassy Lassy: Well, that's one interpretation of sassy and Lassie.
Jen is about to cross the road (this is an easy one as it is narrow). We have learned the technique which is interesting, dangerous and always exciting. We usually hold hands, our breath and pray. The secret is to watch the motorists approaching and anticipate which side of the road the closest vehicle will favor. Should it appear it will go slightly away from us then we wait. If the vehicle moves toward us, then we continue across to the next 'lane', allowing it to pass on our inside. Seriously, it works but one has to be aggressive and stand one's ground notwithstanding the fact that it's a machine and we are merely skin and bones with some fat, on a bad eating day. One point of positive news: It appears that accidents do not occur despite the chaos, lack of road rules, laws and etiquette. For the record, there are no traffic lights, stop signs or any indications/instructions to motorists. The greatest waste of resources in the country is the painting of 'zebra (pedestrian) crossings'. What's the point. No motorist stops for pedestrians. Other than that, the system works.
On a 9-mile walk within Kathmandu, Jen considers seeking refuge (asylum) in the British Embassy.
One of the largest and holiest sites: Buddha Stupa, Boudhanath. Finding the temple on our walk was probably our greatest accomplishment. In 3 hours of walking, we did not see another westerner. Maybe they were on the mountains.
Approaching the Swayambhu (Monkey) Temple. The original 'steps to heaven'.
Bath time: Mom cleans while the baby fools around on older sibling. The kids are related through their mother; the fathers are arch enemies.
Family thinks of feuding fathers, becomes very pensive.
Dusting the sidewalk while I take the high ground and search for a continuing path. The wiring is...words fail one.

In Nepal, the principle enunciated clearly is: 'Let sleeping dogs lie.' In most places that would be a dead dog...not in Nepal. The dog feels comfortable in traffic; we understand it's very relaxing.
'Huh! I'm fine...did you have to wake me?'
Foxes guarding the henhouse. Perfect!
'I'm sure I know someone just like you. At least, the expression is so similar.'
The temple appears above the treeline in the distance (under repair) as we begin the steep, long, steps to the top.

  The basin is very useful for those with a bit of class. It appears there are two types of spitters in the country. The first will scrape the throat, accumulate the saliva in the mouth and then force it out with various degrees of explosive spitting. Some will even perform the task while in company and fire away ahead or behind a pedestrian. The classier the person, the more likely use will be made of a basin. Another issue is that this exercise is performed multiple times during a day with the opening round often occurring in the early hours of the morning. It could be termed the proverbial ‘wake-up call’. 

  Added to these human sounds are those of the animals which unfortunately, are considerably worse. From 3:30am, but usually a little later, the roosters begin their daily communication. The closest one to our room will send out its calls only to have replies echo back. Crows enter the scene later and all seem to chat at once. The dogs, which spend most of the day sleeping, expend their energy at night and in the early morning, too. It’s usually only one or two of them but that’s all it takes to disturb the peace. Their prime time though is mostly at night. 

  So, the cacophony of sound is consistent, annoying and frustrating. To summarize, the vocal action commences from about 3:30am and continues until about 7am at which time the dogs return to sleep, the roosters become 'horse' and gallop away, the crows fly off for the day, but the coughing, spitting and loud clearing continues sporadically. Hence, one really does not require a watch for at least part of a day in Nepal. 

  We return to the basin. Who would have thought a basin could be so tricky? Who would have thought there should be or maybe there are, lessons on how to perfect the use of such appurtenance? Maybe we are just slow at best, or stupid at worst, but we are enduring serious issues. Some of the results are toothpaste finding itself onto our right forearms and thereafter, our clothes. The bathroom floor is always wet after basin use. Our faces are not washed completely. What to do? 

  A problem in Nepal is that all basins are very narrow, thus not extending into the room much. Often, there’s a shelf behind and above it placed in such a way that prevents one lowering the head and positioning it in the middle of the basin. Compound this with lower than usual pedestals combined with the other complications mentioned and our heads are also in danger of being bumped, scratched and having some sense knocked into them. It becomes, to us anyway, a major issue to squeeze the head into a position to be sufficiently over the basin to avoid spills, backache as well as to scoop up water to reach our faces. Who would have thought we would need to be basin re-trained at 70? Potty trained we can understand.

  Talking of potties, we do have western toilets so the need for squatting has been eliminated. We apologize for burdening you with these issues, but we don’t want you to think we are having too much enjoyment; hence the need to share 'major inconveniences' with you. 

  Besides walking about with clothes stained with toothpaste, faces partially washed but hands completely cleansed, the system does work. (There are issues on cloudy days with hot water because of solar power, though.) Then again, I don’t know why I even bother to mention that basin use ends up wetting the floor (at least, not our bed). After all, every time we shower, not being in a stall, the whole of the bathroom floor is underwater. Fortunately, we have developed various techniques which allow us to perfect a reasonable drying routine while reducing the risk of slipping, sliding and causing serious bodily injury. With this being just one of the obstacles of life in Nepal, people think climbing Everest is an achievement. Try a bathroom break. 

  And yet, we enjoy living here immensely. It will be difficult to depart…don’t even want to think of it. 

 Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

"Oh, no. I think I missed the runway, the city, too...don't tell me this is Pokhara. On the bright side, at least, I don't need a helicopter for tricky landings," exclaimed the pilot. 

 

How can one close a trip to Nepal without a mountain scene which includes Mount Everest (left) and the awfully impressive, Ama Dablam (right). 

On Kala Patthar, opposite Mount Everest, at 18,500 feet.
'Fishtail' (Machhapuchhre) viewed from a different part of the country.
and at night.
Everest Base Camp, the big hill protruding, and a wee bit higher.  

  Annapurna range, sunset almost complete.
A cover note to Stan Smookler, the Good Shabbos Man, publisher of a renowned universal blog. 

  Something a little different as we mix people, monkeys, dogs and wash basins together while dealing with the chaos of both the roads and daily life of a city with the unique name of Kathmandu. Despite the hardships many face, a poor infrastructure, the lack of clean water, etc, the country exudes qualities lacking in many successful materialist-focused countries. When growing up, Nepal had the connotation of being a mystical and/or mythical place. In our pre-teens and later, to learn more about it, we could not seek a quick answer from Google, Bing or even Alexa. Instead, we had to pay a visit to the library or should our parents be wealthy enough, we could page through Encyclopedia Brittanica. 

  

  How life has changed and continues to evolve. We lived then and have survived until now and feel privileged to have experienced life, especially our youth then and there; our latter years elsewhere and everywhere. 

  Thank you for your interest and for sharing our adventures with your many followers. We hope your readers have found, over the years, elements of information, some color, something new and above all, an insight into the glorious natural world and a fascination of the many cultures, as we do. 

  Take care, Stanley.