Cat in Asia

The Big Hole and the Big Jump

2010-08-01T12:10:00.000-07:00

The chilling out continues as we slip into the show San Pedro rhythm. One of my favourite things is the warm banana loaf which found us for breakfast nestled in a basket on top of beautifully dressed Mayan women´s heads. They wear long, thick, woven skirts fixed tightly above the waist with beaded belts depicting tropical birds or flowers.
Our week is broken up by boat trips across Lake Atitlan to Panajchel where Bil and I´s study appointments are. We buzz past the sharp ridged volcanic hills which slip under the teal blue waters which are bobbled with corn plants on almost vertical plots. Tiny villages perch amongst the green, glowing with halos of pollution.
My day seven doctor´s appointment is a strange affair. I squeeze past a family of thirty in the foyer who have been waiting around for a week showing support for a relative undergoing a hysterectomy. Waiting in a plastic garden chair, two large Guatemalan men in jeans walk in and seat themselves opposite me. No introduction but a flash of a gold toothed smiled and the interruption of an Avril Lavigne ringtone as they flick through my medical notes and ask a few simple questions - ´No diarrhea´ (None, I´m surprised to report).Before we shuttle it back to Antigua we fit in some sweaty kayaking, a football game with some cunning kids (who tried to introduce a monetary reward for goal scoring) and a free salsa lesson.
We meet some funny Guatemalan guys – a couple of business men, a lawyer, a chef and a dentistry student. They are keen to show off their country so in the comfort and safety of a blacked out, air conditioned pick up truck we get a unique tour of Guatemala city (during which we did not see a single other white person). They take us go karting and back to Gabriel´s mansion (behind an armed guard and automated gate) for the best, juiciest steak we have ever tasted. Just a street away buildings plastered in painted advertisements pile on top of each other like cereal box models tangled in scribbles of black wires.
The highlight of the day was glimpsing the sinkhole, measuring about 20m across and as deep as the Statue of Liberty. It yawned wide in the middle of one of the most dangerous zones. It seemed ironic that a hole attracted the greatest police presence we had seen all day in a city where 40 people are murdered every week.
We had booked to go to the coast but our plans changed after listening to other travelers. And we are so pleased they did. Semuc Champey was to provide one of the best days of our entire lives. I´m even getting nervous with the pressure of doing this place justice in writing. The day long journey was one of those where you get your camera out and you just keep snapping because the scene got more breathtaking with every gear-clunking bend. We could see out across what looked like hundreds of green molehills or moguls which were cut off by a distant fuzzy tent of thick cloud. Our final destination was reached by a lurching, scratching tuk tuk ride up a rubbled and rubbished track. That night we slept under a roof of dried palm leaves in a shack without electricity along with a baby scorpion hiding in the shadows.
We began with a slippery flip flopped climb up steps, roots and rocks in the jungle. The scene is set for a Jurassic Park experience as we bump along in the back of a truck and a Jesus Lizard sprints across the road ahead, simultaneously black bird of prey (condor maybe?) swoops low above our heads and a butterfly as big as my hand weaves between the grasses whipping at our arms. At the viewpoint we´re faced with the best view I have ever seen. A plunging valley with steps of turquoise pools far far below.
Next, we´re in the sparkling blue pools sliding down waterfalls, diving off rocky shelves. There is a point where white water rapids crash underground and a story about how it took 45 days for the dismembered body parts of a snap happy priest to emerge from the other side. Other than that thought, it´s paradise. Dragonflies and all.
We tube in a long chain down an urging, swirling river to our lunch spot. Then comes the crazy part, the ´did that really happen?´ part. With no warning of what´s to come we´re lead into a cave with only candles to light our way. It feels like some weird ritual, especially as our group breaks into echoey song. There are points where we have to doggy paddle because the water is so deep. The flames are spluttering and we re spluttering but it´s all good. We clamber up metal ladders and hammering waterfalls where all you can see of the other side is an outreaching hand. In one part, the guide indicates a spot in a murky pool with his headtorch (the only one about) where we have to leap down a few feet. Wow adrenaline. After an hour or so we emerge into daylight, clutching a couple of inches of wax in shaking hands. To top off the day we jump (jumping being the ongoing theme) off an 8m high bridge into rapids on the way back.

So quick ending summary – we moved on to Honduras yesterday. And to balance out all this blabbering excitement… here is what we did not appreciate about Guatemala –
Mosquitoes and the smell of old meat at the market (Kate)
Black exhaust fumes and twenty million speed bumps (Cat)
Slippery circular drains (Bil)

Thanks for reading, Muchos Lovos

Central America, Week 1

2010-07-21T17:09:00.000-07:00

It’s summer time and adventure time once again. Back in the air, squeezed between an Asian man who doesn’t speak English and a small American boy called Carter, who wails for half an hour because he doesn’t want to sit next to me. Not the best foundations for a new plane friendship.
After 10 hours we arrive in Texas. It’s clear we’ve landed in America. The first thing I see is a couple of extra wide wheelchairs waiting to assist extra wide passengers. The airport workers wear cowboy hats and the custom officials have handguns (I discover after waiting in line for about two hours). The next stretch is more interesting. As I practice a bit of Spanish I find the two men sitting next to me are doctors returning from a WHO (World Health Organisation) conference.
Arrive in Guatemala City and wait sleepily for my rucksack which never comes. Fortunately my taxi man waits among the rabble of men shouting and wiggling signs outside the entrance. I know I’m back in the developing world because there is a distinctive burning smell in the air. Light is only invested in illuminating towering billboards which promise a different kind of clean and smiling world to the dingy, stray dog littered pavements below.
Antigua seems a more lovely place than the capital altogether. The town is lit by warm wall lights which bounce off the cobbled road. In a few minutes Kate’s head is poking out from behind one of the heavy wooden doors – I’ve made it. The hostel we stayed in was protected by a great Great Dane and comfortable. All the same posters in the toilets read –“If you’re standing in water, the office below is getting wet” and we had to brave an electric shock in order to adjust the shower temperature. And apparently “toilet paper makes Guatemalan toilets explode”. Like Thailand, you need to put it in a basket you see. This doesn’t make for a pleasant tooth brushing experience when you’re breathing in the smell of a full night’s worth of toilet visits.
In the morning I discover the full beauty of the town. It’s surrounded by forested, cloud tickled volcanoes. The tiled buildings are painted in earthy terracotas, mustard and bright aqua colours. However, the wrought iron bars across every window are a little reminder of the crime that exists behind the civilized, colonial exterior. I go along to my clinic appointment where I’m give a “stool collecting kit” and a diary to fill in on the details of my bowel habits. Right, that’s my toilet talk ration used up. To more interesting matters… roasting marshmallows over a volcano.
Yes, this is something that can now add to the list of experiences. Promised accompaniment by armed tourist police we end up with a 16 tear old in a high vis jacket carrying a stick instead. He guides us around the base Pacaya, which erupted as part of its 30 year cycle a few weeks ago. The solidified lava sprawls onto what could otherwise have been a very British meadow. It is spongy in appearance but brittle and sharp to the touch. A faint smell of sulphur hangs in the mist and wafts of heat ripple the air. All green and signs of life disappear as we clamber further into an atmosphere which seems off this planet. There are a few nooks where you can see lava deep down still glowing a dull orange and set your walking stick on fire instantly.
Now we have moved onto to San Pedro, by Lake Atitlan. I am still without my bag but have just read an email which gives me hope I’ll be reunited with it in a few days, horaaay!
Our journey here was quite eventful taking 6 hours instead of 2. So a) wait for an entire half marathon to run past b) engine overheats and we have to swap buses c) Mums and Aunty Vera stop reading here until the word San Pedro. You’re still reading… c) seemingly narrowly miss a landside. As the bus slowly maneuvers around some freshly fallen rocks (one the size of a dishwasher) there are shouts of “GO GO GO” from passengers behind because sand is trickling down the cliff and a crack is growing in an overhang the size of our vehicle above us. Thank God for his protection. As Bil sits there eyes wide and mouth gulping I joke “you will be religious by the end of this trip”.
So, San Pedro, yes, a small laid back hippy town filled with baby animals, drunken old men and hummingbirds. I really wish I could speak Spanish for banter with the locals who are friendly and giggly. We went on a jungle horse trek yesterday which felt like proper adventuring. It started to pour down so we were handed colossal ponchos which made us look like a wetter and slower version of the night riders.
I think that’s me done for now. A pretty long ramble but as always so much to fit in. Hope that’s given you a taste of my first week here in Guatemala. Adios amigos.

Final Thoughts

2008-07-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

My tube of Savlon has almost run out, my bag is putting on weight and I only have three pages left in my journal – it must be nearly going home time! Even the mosquitoes know it and have stepped up the pace in their mission to puncture every square inch of my legs.
Southeast Asia is now running into the wet season. At the moment we’re in Koh Phangan, an island off the east coast of Thailand. We had a couple of ankle-deep puddle days in Koh Toa before coming here, but it cleared up and we had a beautiful sparkling day of snorkeling.
Going back to just after Borneo – we returned to Kulala Lumpar where we searched out Cheng Har (known as Prof Yip) – a friend of a friend of Dad’s. Her reputation is that of the best breast cancer surgeon in Malaysia which means she’s a pretty busy woman to say the least. She took half an hour out of her day to give us a whirlwind tour of the condo she was letting us stay in and a constant flow of information about contact numbers, bus times, TV remotes and the food we could help ourselves to in the kitchen. It was just incredible how things worked out that week. No longer sleeping on mats in the jungle, we had our own double beds, and the use of a swimming pool!
I got to wear a white coat when I went into the university hospital everyday :o). I saw lots of plastic surgery – this time of the breast variety – but I also got a good flavour of other departments where the doctors were always great at explaining what was going on.
Bil agrees that we hold very fond memories of Malaysia due to the amazing generosity of the people there. We counted being taken out for 9 meals by the various friends we made in 7 days. Prof Yip saw it as her duty to take us on a delicious journey through Malay, Japanese and Chinese cuisine at posh restaurants. Whereas Mustafa (think: Borat, but with a big beard and from Yemen) favoured an all you can eat buffet in a shopping mall. To be honest this was a little more appreciated than the Chinese delicacy of sea cucumber.
Fattened up and fortified it was time to press on. We caught trains all the way up to Chiang Mai, Northern Thailand (look on a map – it’s some distance). On the way we stopped off at Georgetown where I was embarrassed to fall asleep during a church service (due to interrupted sleep the night before) and have it commented upon by the vicar. Chiang Mai is the kind of place I would recommend to Mum and Dad – it’s packed with culture and things to do from cookery courses to hill tribe trekking to Thai boxing (if you felt the urge Mum).
Then, into Laos – a country of orange dusty roads and houses on concrete stilts; where it’s OK for a naked 2 year old to play with a machete and you don’t know which part of, or indeed what animal makes up the kebabs sold on the roadside BBQs…all this against a stunning backdrop of dark green limestone peaks. We chill out in Luang Prabang and visit some milky turquoise waterfalls nearby. In contrast, Vang Vieng is a very crazy place due to its main attraction – Tubing! This involves floating down a fast flowing river in the inner tube of a tractor tyre and stopping off at various points to fling yourself off 10m high ropeswings and zipwires back into the water. Extreme amounts of fun. Almost safe, if you’re sensible.
We bus it down through Laos and after some kerfuffle at the border – into Cambodia and its capital - Phnom Penh. It’s a dirty and corrupt city. However, we find the sights and the political history of the place fascinating and we’re glad we have a few days there. We make room for a whole week at the coast (Sihanoukville) because in exchange for handing out flyers and working for a restaurant/bar we have free accommodation and meals. My camera got stolen here, so I’ve lost about a month’s worth of pictures! (But I try not to think about that too much)
Of course the Angkor Wat ‘box’ had to be ticked. I could rave about how the muscular tentacles of trees wrestle with the ancient stones…but then I would sound just too much like a guidebook….and what you really want to know is that your photo is printed onto your day pass! (Now that is technical for Cambodia). From there more spine crunching, sweating, head lolling and grubbifying to Bangkok, which we escaped asap to come South for the beaches (where the sand is literally as soft as fleece…..hm hm)
So in only a few days it’s back to Bangkok and I suppose I better get on that plane I booked a ticket for 10 months ago. I would stay forever and ever but there just isn’t enough space in my journal, plus I believe Mum’s apple crumble may be calling me….

I just thank God that university didn’t happen for me this year because as you can probably tell, if you’re still reading, Asia has had a fair few different lessons to teach me!

Cheese.
But matured (hohohoho get it?)

See you …………………………soon

2008-06-16T07:38:00.000-07:00

After repeated WWABs slipped into emails from my mother (We Want A Blog) I now feel sufficiently pressurised to start one. A bit late, sorry!
I left off at Vietnam. The last few days we had there were spent up north in the little French hill station town of Sapa. It was a long train journey but we all felt it was worth it. A) To make friends with the cheeky local sellers - women and children in colourful traditional dress (I bought a beautiful embroidered bedspread from them) B) For the divine the chocolate tarts in the bakery. We had a great motorbike tour around the mountains, the rice paddy fields looking striking in bright shining contours.
Hev and Vey left Carys and I for Cambodia and it was time to move on the meet some more people in Indonesia – Jack, Liz and Bil from school. It was so good to be with them again and hear the stories they brought from travels of their own. We started off in Bali, which was different to Vietnam to say the least. From the ‘jaffles’ in the morning to the sun, sea and surf I wasn’t complaining. Did get a little beaten up by the massive waves, but I loved every minute of it. I’m glad to say we did get a taste of proper Balinese culture (away from the Australian surfers and McDonald’s ice cream) in Ubud where we watched a fire dance and stayed with a duck farmer.
I’ve also had a fair few emails from my mother telling me to go hospital because I let slip to Ben I got bitten by a macaque in the monkey forest and she thought I might be rabid. I’m not. The monkeys just liked me….a little bit too much. Next stop – Gili air - a tiny island off the coast of Lombok. This was where I felt really spoilt…. it was basically a paradise AND no beeping motorbikes, only horse and carts jingling by. Again, I spent most of my time in the sea, snorkeling. Also, I was shown some weird and wonderful squidgey things when I tagged along rockpooling with some island kids.
All too soon it was back to the world where the locals didn’t know our names, where we were regarded as ‘cash machines’ again and then as we moved to Java – ‘the only white people in the entire city’ (or so it seemed to us). We didn’t have time to explore much of Java but we did make it to an active volcano called Mount Bromo – an impressive sight rising out of the snow-like mist at sunrise. And then there were two…
Just me and Bil with Malaysia ahead of us. First we stayed in Kuala Lumpur for a few days. The two most notable things about the city for us were – the guesthouse/aquarium we stayed at with fairly eccentric owners and the food. Fish balls, coconut puffs, steamed dumplings, anything fried and better Indian food than I sampled in India itself. Now I get to Borneo, the best bit, the biggest adventure so far….oooo…
The capital – Kuching – we dared to say it – “looks fairly……English!” Rainy, green, with normal sized roads (not sure I remember what more the word English means anymore) but a few boat rides up the Rajang changed all that. Suddenly, we were seeing vessels piled high with colossal tree trunks, women with long dangly earlobes and being deafened by the raucous bleeping of the jungle either side of the river. The boats were full so we had to sit on the roof next to some Malaysian women who shared their food with us and held our wrists over the bumpy rapid stretch.
Daniel, a charismatic local mentioned in the good ole Lonely Planet was waiting for us at our destination point – Belaga (which literally means the ‘heart of Borneo’). The same night we arrived he took us along to wedding nearby in a 120 meter-long long house. We were warmly welcomed and I was encouraged to copy some strange cultural dancing with feathers on my hands. I was even asked to say grace over the long line of little food packages on the floor before everyone tucked in for dinner. The tribe had ‘been converted to Catholicism’ but from what we saw were still rather fond of their rice wine which circulated in abundance. The karaoke went on till 6.00am in the morning.
We stayed with two other families during our time in that area where we were similarly well received and educated about the longhouse way of life. MISSION: ‘Getting off the tourist trail’ – ACCOMPLISHED. Since then our schedule has been completely packed! We’ve been to three very different National Parks across Sarawak. On our flight back from Gunung Mulu National Park there were only 3 other passengers on the plane! Rather than go into detail about our every walk I’ll quickly list my top times – watching fireflies flirt with flashing bottoms (like little green fairies!) and the massive 2 million-strong ‘Bat Exodus’ out of the world’s largest cave, wobbling along the world’s longest canopy walk, swimming in waterfalls surrounded by dragonflies, looking up at mighty trees which never seemed to end and getting really close to a group of rare proboscis monkeys.

It’s getting late now but I thought I’d just end this with ‘Things I do in Asia, but wouldn’t usually do in England’. Put an umbrella up in the sunshine. Eat/suck noodle soup from a plastic bag. Wash my clothes whilst I’m showering. Wear my rucksack…on my FRONT (shock horror). Walk around a museum barefoot. Sleep with ear plugs in and eye mask on. Wash using the toilet flushing bucket. Use a banana leaf for a plate. Give a packet of peanuts and a bottle of beer as a wedding gift.

I’m not sure exactly what we’re doing next, but I’ll try and get one more entry in here before it’s hooooometime!

Love Cat x

2008-04-24T00:43:00.000-07:00

Apparently some of you have been asking after me :o). So much has changed since I last wrote! I had to say goodbye to Nepal before I said goodbye to the Tuckers. They generously invited me to go on holiday to India with them. Crossing the border into India you start to see appearance of pot bellies, bicycle rickshaws and faster roads, which took us into a city called Lucknow. It was a shock to me when the thought crossed my mind – if you could just cut out that cow and the traffic controller in the white suit – that roundabout reminds me of Shepton Mallet! We even found a Costa Coffee which was a bubble of cool cleanness compared with the smelly heat outside where there seemed to be a man/child going to the toilet every 100m.
At our first stop – Agra, Sarah had booked us into a hotel just a few metres from the gates of the Taj Mahal. There were several impressive palaces and forts in the city but of course the Taj sticks in my mind the most. It just struck me as being out of this world, a beautiful spaceship landed in the middle of chas. Up close it got even better – the delicacy of the gemstone flowers inlaid in marble showed incredible craftsmanship.
By ‘choas outside’ I mean the scrum for tickets and also the ‘Holi’ festival taking place – as a celebration of colour the Indians were throwing powder paint over each other and the roads were splashed with pink and blue. It was strange that Easter for me was a bit of a ‘non- event’ in that we didn’t go to church annnnd I only got 3 chocolate flavoured toffees to last me on a train journey (a big sympathetic ....awwwww)
I can’t really complain, the next day we went on a safari in Rathambhore. It’s possible we saw a tiger without realising it because it would have been perfectly camouflaged in the dry orange bushes. My favourite place in India was a small town called Bundi, which I think the guidebook was correct in describing as ‘unspoilt’. The buildings were decorated with elaborate wall paintings and had so much character. My room was painted with bright flower borders and had stained glass windows. I ignored the rat I shared it with.
The holiday worked out as a really good bridge to get accustomed to the ‘travelling life’. Having said that, the last hotel in Jaipur was the poshest place I have ever stayed - 4 *! Very nice. Last taste of luxury for a while...... I was pretty sad to have to leave Sarah and Simon. I can’t really imagine how my time with them could have been better. At least I could look forward to meeting Carys a few hours later in Bangkok. I didn’t sleep all night but when I saw her we had too much to catch up on for me to make the most of the ($3 a night) guesthouse bed. Later on that day I also had the chance to see James and Josh (a couple of guys from school). We went out together and wandered the streets of backpacker land – me quickly having to get used to the masses of white (or actually very very brown) twenty-somethings and choice of lush food (LOVE the coconuts, mangoes and prawns!)
A week later we were trying to survive the roads of Ho Chi Minh city and I was swapping stories with more friends from home – Heather and Vey. I do just have to slip in – this was after a 35 hour train journey (from one end of Vietnam to the other). We had no room to sit up, there was Vietnamese opera music blaring out from the tanoy, the old man below me was drinking vodka like water and talking to himself, the bloke above smoking, and to top off the concoction of smells in our cabin the woman across from me decided to have half fertilized duck eggs for lunch. The Vietnamese do seem to have some interesting delicacies but unfortunately I haven’t been able to be as experimental as I would like. Something I ate suddenly put in a very uncomfortable position as I was stuck on a boat in the middle of the Mekong Delta. I’ve had stomach pains since, so haven’t strayed far from a bowl of plain rice. Think I’m on the mend now though.
So far the highlights of Vietnam for me have been – wallowing about in some mineral mud (Nha Trang), getting some clothes taylored (Hoi An) and having a motorbike tour of some overgrown temple ruins (Hue). Last night we slept on a junk boat in Halong bay which was cool. Small organised trips here are easy and cheap to do. You can’t ever let your guard down though – the other girls have had money stolen from a trekking guide, an ipod stolen from a bus driver and close run-ins with pickpocketers.
The thing I’m finding most difficult is feeling too much like a tourist. I loved being able to have a bit of banter with the Nepalis in a few words of their own language. Moving to a different place every few days means that it’s impossible to break the barrier of feeling like an outsider here. In a week or so we fly to Bali which I know is going to worse in that respect. I’m looking forward to the surfing but hope we can get ‘off the beaten track’ at some point.
If anyone knows of any worthwhile volunteering opportunities in SE Asia please let me know. Oh and I’d like to know more about how Debby and Dave’s wedding and Passion8 went please! Love Cat X

2008-03-08T06:11:00.001-08:00

Finally we’ve got to Surkhet - a more remote town in the West of Nepal. There was some delay due to unrest in an area we needed to travel through. There are elections coming up soon and the Maoists are stirring things up a bit. There was a curfew enforced for a couple of weeks – meaning that people were only allowed out of their house for a designated hour each day (or they ran the risk of getting shot). Major petrol and diesel shortages have led to long queues on the road. That said, the Nepalese are a lot more laid back than the English, and as quick as it started it finished again. There are so many army personnel about, it kinda feels like I’m in game of Delta Force, but not in an unsafe way.
To condense the last few weeks I’ll briefly describe some of the new things that I’ve tried recently : being a hairdresser, lounging in volcanic springs and then dunking into a freezing river, a banana pancake (mmm I approve), showering by candlelight, leading a science experiment for eight kids with one measuring tub, leg waxing, taking blood.
I’ve also tried out being Indiana Jones as we traversed suspension bridges on a trek we did for a few days. We passed walking bushes and bloke carrying 40 chickens on his back, who put me to shame – I was definitely very aware of my calf muscles by the end of the experience. One guesthouse was so cold, if you had walked in at some point during our 2 hour wait for daal baht (no joke) you would have found – all the females sitting on the cook’s bed, sandwiched between 2 thick blankets (me in all the clothes I had brought plus woolly hat) and Simon lying across our feet!
The biggest news from the school in Pokhara is that Sandy (the mute boy) smiled. I had to say goodbye to the kids, with cries of ‘noooooo, but you’re the best teacher in the world’. I must have done something wrong because you’re meant to be too scared to say things like that to your teacher. All the same, I’ve entered into my next teaching job feeling a little more capable than before hehhehe. I’m really enjoying doing a Viking project here with Issy and Naomi.
After school in the morning I cycle to the government hospital. On my first day I found the surgery department, asked where scrub clothes were and simply walked into an operation. If only things were that simple in England! Sarah (who has come to teach another surgeon) actually lets me ‘assist’ now, so I wipe the blood away, hold things in place and help burn blood vessels with a zapper thing. The staff are very friendly. I don’t think they’ve really thought about whether I’m a doctor or not so I’ve been roped into things like stretching a bendy broken arm out. Yummy.
Yes, I’m getting a varied education here – Vikings, plastic surgery and cooking. Sarah is sometimes late back so it’s been my responsibility to heat up something edible for the girls. Last night I made some potato bread things that our didi in Pokhara showed me how to make, and they were actually OK. Simon will be joining us next week, so that means good food.
The people in Surkhet are very welcoming. It’s been great to get to know the Chinnery clan. There’s not so much to do here as Pokhara, no lake to kayak on, no souvenir sellers to bargain with. But the families seem to be inventive – I’ve just attended some afternoon lessons in self defence (during which I almost broke a German gapyear student’s arm, oops) and ballroom dancing, all on the roof of a house. We’re here for another two weeks and then off to India! Can’t wait. But I will be sad to leave Nepal and the things that have grown familiar. I’ve even started to dream in Nepali. (Simon overhead me shouting – Mero Saati! Mero Saati! ‘My Friend! My Friend!’ in my sleep.)
How's England? – the weather, the celebrity news, the earthquakes......? it won’t seem like long before I’m hitting the internet cafes in Bangkok in early April, and I would love some good stuff to read in my inbox! please x x x

2008-02-08T07:58:00.000-08:00

Someone reckons my first blog entry is not unlike ‘a piece of Year 9 descriptive writing for a teacher’. I think perhaps I fell into some kind of poetic mood without the time to express myself very well. Thanks for the comments anyway :o)

I’m feeling really settled here and now have some form of routine. My language training has been worthwhile, plus the teacher really made me laugh. I have been spending at least three days a week at PSC (the school) and the rest at the hospital. I do feel like I’m beginning to be of some value at PSC, not just ‘babysitting’ the class - I’m actually getting a taste of teaching. Well that’s what I like to think anyway… the kids call me Miss Cat and I tell them to ‘turn down the volume’, aaaaaand I even get to write on the board! It can be quite challenging, there have been four new kids in class 1 (ages 5-9) since I first arrived – one of them is just learning how to speak English, one of them won’t stop speaking and the other two are very shy and basically mute.
On the other hand, my job description in the hospital is less useful - it involves standing in the way and asking silly questions. But Dr Sarah is a great teacher. It’s a great privilege to watch her at work. The reconstructive surgery she does brings about very obvious improvements to people’s quality of life. Some of the ways in which Green Pastures is different to hospitals in the West: people are admitted with disease and infection that is far more advanced, medical instruments are sterilized in newspaper and each patient requires a ‘carer’ who sleeps on a bed which slips under their own.
I visited the government hospital earlier this week which I knew was going to be grim. Without being too graphic, what I saw during the dressing change was an awful combination of very severe burns, blood and a lot of patient distress resulting from lack of pain killers. I just about held it together for that morning, but it must be very difficult for Sarah who has to deal with the same preventable problems and incompetent staff week, after week. Later that day I had a treat – I got scrubbed up for the very first time! After a bit of glove putting-on practice I was able to stand by the operations, holding instruments and cutting stitches. In fact, I don’t know what Sarah ever did without me………..? I’m over the moon that I’m able to start studying medicine as from September, it really feels right.
Things I like about Nepal – Daal Bat, and getting to squidge it with my fingers! The bright white mountains which appear from nowhere when the clouds lift. The rainbow of clothes, and being allowed to lose any dress sense I may/may not have had. Laid back atmosphere, the ‘simple life’. Friendly Nepali faces. Bumpy bike riding. Meeting new people but not really thinking about it and just going with the flow. Eating out for less than $3. People huddled around burning rubbish after dark, a motorbike ride under the full moon. Dobby and Boppy, our adopted street dogs. Cows in the street, cows venturing into the shops. Squished, ‘can you fit 7 people in a metro-sized taxi?’ rides. My luvverly soft ‘100% Yak’s wool blanket’ (which I’ve since found out isn’t after the ‘burn test’, but I love it all the same)
The things I don’t like about Nepal – No central heating (although it’s warming up now and the house is less like a fridge box). Slow internet connection and having to hog the computer. Electricity cuts, now for 7 hours everyday. Proper chocolate being precious commodity. Not being able to do much more than sway to the rhythm of Nepali worship. Dust.
I’ve just opened my third edition of ‘Dad Direct’, a newsletter that Dad is issuing weekly via email to update me of all things English / Familyish / Churchish and it includes a photo of Josh standing next to Mike! Wow! One reason I wish I was at home. This weekend we are going for a small trek to Sarangkot so I’ll get to see the sunrise over the Himalayas. I will undoubtedly take too many landscape photos which are always disappointing but oh well. I hope to put some pics up soon, it’s my mission to find a connection which is fast enough! In that case, perhaps I will be able to write less for you to trawl through next time! x

First Thoughts

2008-01-20T07:13:00.000-08:00

So, I thought the best place to start would be the start of the journey, the flight. I made friends with a rich guy from Bahrain sitting next to me, got a bit too excited over the pink travel toothbrush in the freebie bag but justifiably excited over the orange and green sunrise which was the second thing to greet me after the air hostess shoving the breakfast tray in front of me at 4 o’clock in the morning.
The next flight I met a fierce-looking Portuguese woman who was working for the UN on the Tibetan refugee camp. After sorting out our visas together we emerged into the chaos that is Kathmandu. Thankfully, within a few seconds, I picked out Simon’s brown and smiling face from the crowd outside.
I’m struggling to find words to describe Kathmandu. ‘Ula Mula’ and ‘Arrangy-Changy’, Nepali words (roughly as ‘busy/muddled’ & ‘colourful’), probably do a better job than I could do in English. The whole city looked as though it could do with a good going over with a massive vacuum cleaner from the sky. Suddenly I could see how Nepal could be the world’s 4th poorest nation.
After staying in a candlelit guesthouse the Tuckers and I hopped on the early morning ‘shuttle-bus’ to Pokhara, which evokes a misleading expectation of speedy, direct travel. I’m not complaining that is wasn’t. The views were awesome as we followed a wide blue river around the mountains. We dodged goats and school children amongst other traffic, all the while missing a drop of up to 150 feet which sometimes existed to the side. And Nepalis definitely haven’t heard of NOT overtaking on corners.
I’m feeling really content here living with the Tuckers. The girls make me laugh and I’m included in everything. I have a warm bed, warm shower (when the electricity is on) and great lemon meringue pie that Lassimere, the ‘didee’ makes. The mornings and evenings are chilly but when we go fetch the buffalo milk in the afternoon sun it feels like being in the Mediterranean.
I went back to primary school today! There are Korean, Belgian, Nepali, Irish & English kids but the unifying factor is that they’re all crazy. Their playground is so much better than the one I knew – it has a forest, and a trampoline! I will be looking after the younger class. If I may say so myself, I was amazing at finding beetles when we went outside to explore ‘habitats’, but not quite up to speed on my subtraction!
A girl I met last night has just invited me to go to the National Park this weekend with a gang of Kiwi med school students. I’m loving meeting so many different people, from the Christian INF workers, to the dark and handsome paragliding instructors who chatted up Chris Chinnery as we lunched by the lake!
I haven’t been inside a hospital yet. Sarah took me to town to get my Kurta Surwal (traditional dress) tailored, ready for my work there. (Orange trousers, eek – what was I thinking?) From the awful stories I’ve heard I know I’ll have fewer positive things to say about what is to be seen there.
So for the near future, it’s a school trip to the Mountain Museum tomorrow, a weekend of elephant riding and canoeing, then a language and orienteering course next week. Perhaps I’ll be able to work out why they laugh so much when I introduce myself as ‘Cat’. We’ll see. Much love to anyone who’s taken the time read this babble x x x x x

Oops the electricity keeps going off so this post is rather late! That is also the reason why it's difficult to email people and things. The connection here is very slow when the internet is working. I've now been to Chitwan. This morning at about 7.00 I was riding on elephant through the jungle, looking down on an Indian rhino about 4 meters away!! It was incredible. I can't write a lot now but Josh, if you read this, I've just found out you got your heart transplant! So so happy for you.