February 20, 2012

After another night where I barely slept but a few minutes before my hacking started all over again, I packed my bags and picked up my hotel room before heading to the dining room for our last breakfast at the hotel. Joe and Valerie were finishing up while Caroline sat at another table talking to another ELF. I had a masala omelet, potatoes and coffee before joining the others in the courtyard where the taxi driver was already waiting for us. While Sunday had been a holiday to celebrate democracy, a new one Nepalis started observing just four years ago, today was Lord Shiva’s celebration and true to form, throngs of kids had placed ropes across the road leading to Bakhtapur to shake down money from drivers supposedly for their schools. I was able to see glimpses of the landscape I used to enjoy in Gaindakot as many people around here still had extensive kitchen gardens where mustard greens and other vegetables were growing.

We had been told that a fee of 1100.00 rupees or $15.00 had to be paid to gain entrance to the city and only hoped it was worth it. The driver offered the services of friend of his who worked there as a tour, but Joe turned down the offer. The minute we stepped out of the car, we were surrounded by vendors, aspiring tour guides and children begging for money. Joe had no trouble shaking them off while one of the tour guides attached himself to Valerie and tried to convince her to go and visit his music school where most likely she’d asked to make a donation. Once inside the main square, we could hundreds of women and a few men carrying the traditional platter covered with crocheted dollies making their way to the numerous statues and niches where they could offer their “pujas” or offerings. For all the money they were collecting at the entrance, the city seemed quite shabby with its uneven cobblestones, crumbling buildings and ponds covered with scum.

I found a Nepali magnet for Ryan, but no other tourist’s oriented items seemed to be on offer as the city, although a historical jewel is still a working one and the shops were of the mom and pop variety catering to the locals’ needs. Back at the entrance, I had a chance to buy a few necklaces and billfolds to take back for friends and neighbors in Tajikistan. Kids were back with their ropes up, but our drivers barked something at them to let us pass and it worked. I went back to my room to change into my winter outfit, changed money at the front desk and tipped those who had been so gracious for the last six days. The hotel also had a box at the front desk where guest can deposit tips to be shared by all staff members. Harry had arranged transportation to the airport for all of us, and I went around the corner to have one more cup of tea before our departure.  The ride took forever as it seemed as if the entire city of Kathmandu was making its way to the Pashupatinah Temple on the banks of the River. Since sidewalks continue to be nonexistent in the city, people took to the edge of the road walking four or five abreast from babies to the old in one long wave. There was no air conditioner in the van and thus both David and the driver had their windows rolled down letting in all the dust so prevalent there.

We must have gone through at least five different x-ray machines and three body searches, done by women and very through ones indeed, before we got into the Air India plane. I sat next to Barbara, from Bellevue, WA, and we shared our experiences while her husband tried to read the newspaper. The airline served chicken tika, rice and lentils and for once I decided to forgo my ban on chicken and ate everything on the platter. Upon landing, a representative from Air Astana led us to waiting area while he processed our documents and issued us boarding tickets. I sat across from David who started to talk to me in Spanish while trying to convince me that a move to Kazakhstan could be a good one because that way he would have another person to talk to. His Spanish was decent and he claimed to have had girlfriends from both Mexico and Peru.

I remembered to get a New Delhi magnet for Ryan and then sat to take my boots off while waiting for the hours it would take for us to depart for Almity where we arrived at 3:00am. It was snowing in Almity. Harry, Valerie, Sally and David said goodbye and we were escorted to the waiting area of the airport where to my dismay and frustration, the smoking lounge door was open spilling smoke into the entire area. I walked up there once and asked for the door to be kept locked, but every time someone walked out, he/she left it opened. The entire airport is one big room with a coffee shop/bar in one corner, a VIP lounge for a British airline, a small Duty Free shop and another one selling handbags. I had nowhere to go here and decided to go back downstairs where I had seen another waiting are totally empty. A female guard saw me heading down and stopped saying I could not go back downstairs. When she got distracted with another passenger, I headed downstairs nonetheless. Two other people were fast asleep on the benches and I tried to recline using my two shoulder bags as a pillow, but it was a no go. I’d doze off for a couple of minutes until some stupid announcement came on that seemed to run on a loop forever.

Three more guards came by and compelled me to return to the main waiting area totally unconcerned that I could barely breathe there and that the smoke was unbearable. Both Caroline and Corrie had fallen asleep placidly.