From Nepal to Egypt

Even this travel schedule is too much even for me. I left Nepal on Saturday afternoon, arrived in Minneapolis on Sunday morning (remember the 12 hour time difference), and took off for Egypt on Tuesday. Who knows what time zone I'm on now, but I'm wide awake, maybe from sheer excitement.

The view from the plane when landing at Cairo is surprising, but not. This is clearly the dessert. Sandy and flat, flat, flat. The roads are wide like American roads, yet I still hear the honking of horms, though not at the same level as in Kathmandu, where the roads were barely wide enough for two cars.

I am now in Hurghada, awaiting a transfer to Port Galib, where I'll board the M/V Royal Evolution for two weeks of diving in the Red Sea from Egypt to Sudan. It's warm here, though I have a five mil wetsuit, not the one mil I usually wear. It will be an effort just to get this on and off, but I've been told the underwater life is spectacular. I can't wait to get into the water! More after the liveaboard.

Water—Waste Not, Want Not

An article to be published in www.Nepalnews.com:

Water is a vast, yet valuable commodity in the Himalayan Mountains of Nepal. As I trek along the numerous rivers and streams; step over black, narrow water hoses that lead from these natural waterways to outdoor community water stations for washing dishes, clothes, rice, and more; gaze at the irrigated rice fields; and admire the snow covered peaks; I wonder why porters must carry thousands of cases of bottled water up the rocky and dusty paths of the Himalayas. In Kathmandu, I turn on the tap and puzzle over the few drops of water that fall from the faucet (and when it does come out of the tap, there may not be any hot water, but that’s another, yet related story). I hear there is a water shortage in Kathmandu. How can this be, I ask myself, thinking of all the water rushing down the mountains? Looking at statistics on water, I see that 96% of urban residents have access to “improved” drinking water . But I also read statistics showing the population in the Kathmandu Valley has doubled in the past five years. Statistics also show that 89% of rural residents have access to “improved” drinking water , but I’ve witnessed many people hauling water several kilometers from their homes.

The infrastructure was inadequate in Kathmandu before the population doubled. With so much new construction, the wells have been contaminated. In rural Nepal, the infrastructure is substandard or non-existent. The situation is so critical that there is a mandate in the current interim constitution and the proposed constitution to ensure clean water for all individuals in Nepal. Even when the proposed constitution is ratified, it will still be years before this mandate is satisfied.

Meantime, the Nepali have learned how to cope with the situation. Their daily use of safe water in Kathmandu is limited by either insufficient supply from individual wells or from the Kathmandu Upatyaka Khanepani Limited (KUKL). Americans can, in turn, learn from this as well. What, might you ask, can we learn? We, who have water at our immediate disposal, don’t think about it being a limited resource. As the biggest users, and one might say biggest wasters of water, we should ask ourselves what changes we would make in our daily lives if we had a limited supply of water. There are some simple and easy answers--take shorter and/or less frequent showers, wear clothes again before washing, use fewer dishes at home, switch to water efficient toilets, and store the cold water in a bucket that we generally let run down the tub drain while waiting for the hot water—using it to flush the toilet or wash the floor. Outside, we could collect rainwater to water our plants and shrubs when it’s sunny.

Americans have ready access to clean, safe drinking water, though some choose to buy bottled water. Nepalis do not currently have the option. For drinking water, they must buy it bottled, or filter it. This is an added expense to already meager budgets. Hopefully, the Nepali constitution to be ratified mandates and gives top priority to a safe drinking water policy. But the reality is it will take at least a decade of concentrated work to make this a reality. This would certainly help reduce the work of the porters and the amount of plastic bottles in landfills in Nepal, but those too are other related and important stories.

Staying in Kathmandu

My time in Nepal is sadly nearing an end. I’ve made some new friends among the Tibetans and Nepalese, and as I listen to them, it seems I may return yet again. I’ve returned to my writing, thanks to the Photojournalism project I’ve entered into in Kathmandu through www.InternshipNepal.com. Several of the photojournalism interns and I meet with Ram every morning. He is a delightful man who has gone out of his way to facilitate our way around Kathmandu. Of course, the festival days directed him to have us take pictures of crows, dogs, and cows and other “new year” celebrations. Having a focus has made us see things we might have overlooked, this is especially relevant to my interest and chosen subject of water. This country has many celebrations, holidays and festivals. With a dozen or so calendars in use here, it can sometimes be confusing for the locals, so you can imagine how confusing it is for the tourists, especially when one person says it’s the day of the crow and another says it’s the day of the dog. The brothers and sisters day is on one day for the Nepali and a day later for the Newari, another caste in Nepal.

The Pandey’s included us the celebrations with fireworks at night. Ram taught us a song one morning in which, luckily, we only had to sing a one word reframe “deusire“. That afternoon we came home to a dozen or so people setting up their speakers and boom box to sing that same song and other to us, while dancing. It’s tradition to give them money for such entertainment. When this was presented to them, they continued to sing and dance. When we heard the familiar tune we’d learned from Ram, that’s when we knew the show was closing. Later that night, we sang to our house, not up and down the street, like our caroling. When we were coaxed into dancing, Ram dashed off to get his car, and 10 minutes later, we were dancing to tunes bursting forth from a speaker in his trunk. In between songs, Nesib lit fire rockets and spiral sparklers.

On Brothers and Sisters day, we were invited into the Pandey’s living room by Shila, our house mother who is young enough to be my daughter, to partake in the ceremony in which the sister puts a tika on the brothers—her brother, Nesib, and the male interns, Simon and Cornelius. Nesib then gave Muskan, his sister a gift while the female interns watched. The tradition is for the sisters to cook a festive meal for the brothers, who return the favor with gifts. Muskan is too young to cook, but we dined on Shila’s wonderful cooking. She’s yet to give us a cooking lesson.

It’s calm now that the festival season is over. It’s rather like the lull after the Thanksgiving to New Year holiday season in the US. Things have settled down, but the horn honking has resumed. The traffic here is so congested that there are barely inches between the bikes, motor cycles, cars, vans, trucks and the odd huge tourist buses. My home away from home is a few blocks off a main street, and by a huge grocery/department store and bus stop. The gold bus takes us north and south from here. Getting into touristy part of Kathmandu requires a 10 to 15 minute taxi ride, which we generally negotiate for Rs 100 or 200, or maybe Rs300 in the evening. That translates to a few dollars at most.

No matter where we go, there is dust. People wear masks. The locals are used to it, but they too wear masks. The air pollution is a medical problem. The advantage for being here in the dry season is that we mainly breathe dust. In the rainy season, people breathe in the stench from the trash. I don’t know what is worse.

In between traveling to take pictures relating to water, I write about it. Yesterday I was told that my feature story on water will be published on www.nepalnews.com in a week or so. That motivated me to start a new piece. Now I need to go take more pictures. Such is life as a photojournalist intern

Photojournalism in Kathmandu

From trekking to “work”, or maybe I should say school. I’m hanging out with 16 to 18 year olds. Some are on their gap year, others are in high school. All are interested in photojournalism. The two high schoolers from Nepal are on school break for Tihar. Tihar is the second most important festival in Nepal, second only to Dashain, the festival in progress when I first came to Nepal. Tihar honors selected animals—crows (as messengers of the death God), dogs (who guide departed souls across the river), cows and bullocks (who tranport souls to the next world). The city is lit up like Christmas, with lights hanging everywhere. Timed with the new moon for Deepawali, the most important third day of the festival, the goddess of wealth visits well-lit homes and offers them good luck for the coming year.

There are six people participating in the photojournalism experience. Lara and Cornelius are from Germany. Simon is from Montreal. Bailey and Lauren are from the States though have French and South African passports. Ram Prasad Humagai, our advisor, works for Nepalnews.com and the online version of The Rising Nepal, gorkhapatra.org.np. We are to choose the topic we want to “report” on.

I chose safe drinking water. No one in Nepal drinks water from the tap. With a population of 1.45 million in Kathmandu alone, imagine the number of plastic bottles for trash or recycling. The population in the capital city has nearly doubled in the past four years (790,597 in late 2006), prompting a water shortage. Public wells, sans water, are now cavities for stagnant rainwater and trash. When I visited here in 2003, these communal areas were in constant use. The new construction has contaminated or eroded many water supplies that were previously used for drinking, bathing, washing dishes and clothes.

Nepal is primarily rural, with a population of over 29 million. Think about the water bottles required for residents and tourists. Think about the transportation required to carry water up the mountains on animals or by porters. And think about what happens to all those used bottles. It’s hard to imagine. I think about all the rivers and streams sprouting from the mountaintops and flowing down, how crystal clear that water is, astonishingly so. I recall our guide refilling his water bottle from a hose protruding out of a hillside. When asked if it was okay to drink, he cocked his head to the left in traditional Nepali fashion and said maybe, yes, but that he has gotten sick from it on occasion. Oh, how I wanted to be refreshed by that water, but thoughts of months-long recovery from Guardia dissuaded me from doing so.

I’ve been perusing several websites researching information about water purification in Nepal, and to monitor the current political situation. Nepal has been a republic for only a few short years. A constitution is in the works, and is to include mandates about clean water. There is only a figure-head of a prime minister at the moment, because the past several have resigned for various reasons and no one has received a majority of votes in about 16 elections. Here are some recent headlines. Note the reference to consensus.

Stories in the news on Thursday, 4 November 2010
•There will be consensus for national govt by Nov 6: Bhattarai
•Sujata hopeful of NC-led govt soon after Tihar
•Citizenship certificate not mandatory for obtaining voter ID cards: EC
•CJ Shrestha leaves for Japan to attend Judicial Conference
•No consensus in sight as big three stick to their guns
•Capital market lands in red zone
•CA chair suggests parties to deal with constitution-drafting and peace process
simultaneously
•Significant rise in outflow of Nepali workers
•Man shot in daylight robbery at Thamel
•NRB increases quota of gold and silver for Tihar festival
•UCPN (M) reiterates only new govt can present budget
•DeLisi confers with RJP chief
•Nepal to operate paragliding during NTY-2011 (Nepal Tourism Year 2011)
•Govt to introduce stricter legal measures to safeguard consumers' rights
•'Maoists keeping disqualified combatants in separate camps'
•Govt approaching donors for mid-hills highway
•Three arrested with equipments to print fake currency notes
•Police shoot dead one in Janakpur
•Taskforce close to agreement on single federal citizenship with provincial identity
•JC recommends three temporary Justices at SC for permanent status

Trekking the Annapurna Region

Our Tibetan Settlement project complete, we're off to explore the mountains of Nepal. This, my second trek in the Himalayas, is different than the two-week trek to the base camp of Mount Everest because we stay in teahouses along the way rather than camp. The rooms are very basic, but it's much more relaxing to arrive at a teahouse, sit on chairs, perhaps by a warm pot belly stove, rather than huddle inside a dining tent, or sit on the ground in a two person tent.

Our trek is only four days--from Nayapul to Poon Hill. The trail itself is also different. While we're only going up to 3210 meters, around 10,000 feet, it seems as if it is mainly steps. I've heard there are 3,800 steps, but it seems like 38,000. The steps never seem to end. Some have been here from decades, others are more recent additions--pacing new trails, or to rebuild those destroyed by avalanches. Either way, they are masterfully laid.

We have one guide, Thapa, and two porters, Som and Karne, for four trekkers. The Nepalese all speak English, and are not surprised we are an all female group. Corinne and Carol set a faster pace, Diane stops to enjoy the scenery and adjust to the altitude. I keep my pace slow and steady in the middle. When we don't look at our feet to keep from tripping, we see snow covered Annapurna I, II, III, IV, & South, Machhapchhure and Fishtail. The sky is clear blue each day. Wispy clouds sometimes hover at eye level.

I recall the Everest Highway of trekkers, porters, cooks, stubborn donkeys, horses, goats and village kiosks along the way. I miss the naks and the yaks, monasteries, prayer flags and stupas. Are there fewer religious symbols because this is Moaist territory? We traverse streams, sometimes tiptoing over water along the paths, and listen to the roaring waterfalls. We appreciate them now, but know they can be devastating during the monsoon season. We pass through communities of grasshoppers, never sure why they reside in certain areas, but know their whereabouts by the sounds.

The steps are endless, but after two days of trekking, we reach our halfway point, Ghorepani. We drink Everest beer with our guide and porters and listen as Thapa plays the drum and sings traditional songs long into the night. Eden and Pat in newly purchased knit hats, on an 8 or 9-day trek, find us and we compare notes. They've come up the way we're going down. There are many steps either way.

5:30 a.m. we're up to climb our way up more steps to Poon Hill for sunrise. Looking up and down the hill, headlamps light the way. In 45 minutes, we're at the top. We join again with Pat and Eden and hundreds of others as the rays of the sun alight the mountains one streak at a time. These mountains truly are majestic. After the last pictures are taken of our two groups, we say good-bye to Pat and Eden and head down for breakfast and our good-byes to Carol and Corinne, who will speed their way down the mountain and back to Pokhara, while Diane and I meander back at a leisurely pace over two days.

We stop at a stone patio for lunch overlooking a massive valley of green, and continue down the hill. We end our day early to just sit and enjoy the environment. We marvel at the goings on around us as nine Nepali's prepare for a 21-day trek to Mustang, near the China/Tibetan border. Bags are being packed, animals are inspected, tables are tied together. The dining tent is pitched. This is the entourage of a lone grey-haired trekker from Sweden. We know this is costly as the permit alone is $500, but never hear the thoughts that have motivated this adventure.

We have dinner and afterwards teach Thapa and Som to play 10,000, a dice game. We entice two young sisters (age 9 and 13) who work at the teahouse to play with us. They do for a bit, until called back to work. We see them the next day, two hours walk down the mountain, where they've been pulling potatoes out of the field. They're working while going to school, miles from their home and parents.

Our last day of trekking is again leisurely. We stop to observe baby goats munchings on dried rice stalks, a woman weaving the simple yet efficient backpacks long worn by a caste of mountain people here, a man and woman peeling popcorn off cobs, woman sweeping the stone paths, and others working in their shops. Too soon, the number of shops increases, the dust is elevated, we hear horns honking and we know our trek is ending. It's back to Pokhara and Kathmandu, our last meal as a GCN group, and as others depart, I remain in Kathmandu for two weeks with a photojournalist.