On New Year's Eve (Nepali version)my gas cylinder had run out. As I was down Birgunj on Saturday I didn't go to the suppliers until early evening. As it was Saturday (and a holiday) the first shop was closed. The second shop said they should have a supply the following day (there have been big delivery problems because of the transport difficulties in the Terai). After work on Sunday I went to see if there was any gas (I had boiled water, but I was really looking forward to a cup of tea!)Yes, it would be delivered.
Unfortunately, however, on Sunday morning there had been an incident in Hetauda when a rickshaw had overturned. A man riding in the rickshaw, concerned about his pregnant wife, who was travelling with him, had attacked the rickshaw driver, who had been taken to the police station. As a result, there was no gas delivery because the rickshaw drivers staged a road block and strike (the gas bottle is delivered by rickshaw).
Fortunately I did receive my gas the following morning, and if I'd really had a problem I could have bought bottled water or gone out to eat, but the lack of systems to deal with events such as traffic accidents has such wide-ranging effects. Taken in a wider perspective, the lack of workable systems throughout Nepali society is responsible for so much wastage of time and manpower.
I suppose I'm thinking of how the following four days worked out. Having been told I was needed for the month of Chaitra, I thought the new month may offer a chance to take a few days off. When I asked the section officer about this he said fine, but we had to finish the wall newspaper before I left - the newspaper I had written an article for the previous week (a piece of advocacy on the value of helping female School Management Committee members understand their role - less genderr-bashing in the Nepali version) while waiting for the other section officer to return from SLC monitoring or wherever. It seems the newspaper had to be prepared for the 1st of the month, but systems being as they are, the 'team' were all involved in other matters, so now it depended on my presence.
To cut four long, boring days short, on Wednesday I was finally asked for advice on the size of the board (I thought we were getting a new one, but no, it was taken down from the SO's office); I suggested a coat of paint - there was no time. I found out my piece had to be put back into the computer to be cut down to the same size as every other piece - our typist, Ram Chandra was tearing his hair out - then I suggested borders - then the SO decided there was too much material and the font size had to be changed. With a 'thank goodness the display isn't at school' I showed them how to arrange the pieces which are now there to be read in the entrance to the DEO. Apparently this is to be a monthly occurrence - instructions from the D of E, who also want copies of the material. I pointed out that now that I knew what was expected, I'd make a much better job of it next time - colour, headings, less writing, eye-catching etc - except that next month I'll be in KTM for the VSO conference - but I still have to write something. With all the people who had written anythng coming to look at the printing process, advise on whether the board was straight, admire the fact that I ordered the pieces before we got to the board and hold the glue stick it took seven or eight people most of a day - we finished at 5.15pm. In the morning I had been told to go to a training for RPs about health (the SO had to put in an appearance, but I said we should concentrate on getting one job finished and he said OK) - planning and systems - don't happen.
Enlarge this to the country again - why not just concentrate on law and order to ensure elections before being sidetracked by education, forest management, road construction etc - these will all continue from day to day - just get the job in hand finished. (Comments on the political parties intentions later).
So on Thursday morning bright and early (not bright, it rained all the way to Bharatur)I set off for a couple of days r and r. I'd had a runny nose for a week - more annoying than anything, but comments on my red nose and the fact that a supervisor told everyone he caught me with my head on the desk made me feel it was a good job I was going to be out of the office for several days, or in an under-the -weather state I may say something I would regret. Leaving the bus at Dumre, along the road to Pokhara, (people assumed I was going to Besishar, the start of the Annapurna trail - not this time)I got into a jeep for the 20 rupee trip up the hill.
The village of Bandipur was once the district capital, but as with Bimphedi, the coming of a good road meant the village lost its significance. Two years ago, with various grants, the village set out to attract tourists with an eco-tourism scheme. Peter heard about it first at a Rotary meeting, but it was Clare who discovered it last autumn. Sitting along a ridge is a traffic free,largely paved, incredibly clean, well signposted village of Newari houses surrounded by terraces, forest and numerous interconnecting walks. The largest cave in Nepal is down the hill (I didn't go, but I understand that with a good torch it looks amazing). The people have set out to be friendly and accommodating - the children all namaste, occasionally ask for pens, talk endlessly and love having their photo taken (school was still out).
I stayed in a cell-sized room at the Bandipur Guest House with a Romeo and Juliet balcony (very fragile)and a view south over the valley. The food was served on a terrace two floors down by a family who all worked well together. These photos show the view from the balcony and the view from one of the highest points of the village looking east towards the Masyangdi river which flows along beside the KTM-Pokhara road.
I spent the first afternoon wandering and the second day, having missed sunrise, but seen the mountains, I walked down the old track to the valley before catching the jeep back up. That walk took me through forest (crunching autumn leaves), through farms, orchards, past ox ploughs, down zig-zag paths, past a monkey colony and finally on to the road after I was redirected by an elderly woman bathing under a pump.
Having had a rest (the cold was catching up with me), I asked about a silk farm which was sign-posted outside the guest house. I'd set off down the road the previous day, but seen no sign of it. It's about 25minutes walk they said - follow the 'motor road'. I guessed that was the wider track I had seen descending into the valley, ut it was growing a bit cooler, so off I went, accompanied by a few children, including two girls I'd met the previous day - 'we have a club, we collect money for all those little children - like that one - who don't have handkerchiefs!' They obviously haven't collected much yet. After a while they pointed out a man who was walking in the same direction and said he was going to the silk farm. They called him and he said I could go along with him. There were no more signs and I wouldn't have found the place, but it was just off the 'motor road'. Having seen the mulberry bushes, containers with silk worms at various stages and the cocoon spinning sheds, I was just in time for the bus (very welcome, but I couldn't believe the bus would get up the road we had just walked down). There was only one passenger, a teacher going home to Bandipur (private schools are open). He was very friendly, as were the two lads who were working as conductor and conductor's mate. As we reached a hairpin bend, the driver stopped, one of the lads jumped off and started whistling for the driver to back (I knew it). When this happened for the third time, the teacher suggested we got off and walked - he took me the short way (cutting off the hairpins by scrambling up the paths between) and although the bus did overtake us once, we left it stuck again. He said this happened nearly every day.
Next morning I was up with the sun (but not the heat) and off to the view point, where there was not very much to see, but the changing colours are still magical and the peace and quiet of the village was hardly disturbed.
After breakfast down to the valley on the first jeep at 8am. Thinking it might be busy, I was there by 7.40 - only 9 adults, several sacks and a little boy sitting on them (by the time we set off he was asleep,propped up by the sacks and prevented from falling by the sheer numbers in the vehicle).As young men arrived,they were directed to the roof - four pairs of legs swung over the windscreen and goodness know how many were round the sides- the only man inside was a delightful old(?) man who travelled on to KTM with me-the young women stood on the tail gate (four when we started and others joined on the way down), there were six of us sitting on each of the seats along the side and to complete the group was the young woman sitting on the floor with a baby and two cockerels. The birds were remarkably quiet until the baby started pulling their feathers, but we did all arrive in one piece.
Very quickly finding a bus going to KTM, I was given a front seat with the old man from Bandipur. At 9am as we were ready to set off, we were told to get on another bus - still a front seat which meant I could take a few photos along this well travelled road - this is approaching the bridge across the Trisuli river where the road to the Terai turns south.
Shortly after arriving at Manakaamana (Nepal's only cable car - up to a temple) a person I recognised from Dumre got on and had words with the driver. Several women on the bus started arguing (I was getting the message -we had to change buses). It was obviously somethng to do with the original change, which maybe shouldn't have happened (bus company competition!)for the driver of bus no 3 was our original driver. The main complaint was altough the bus was larger, there were not enough seats - being the foreigner, though, I was squashed into the front, where a cheerful Tamang woman made a bit of room for me and told me she was getting off next stop. When the next stop came, other people left the bus and there was a seat in the main body of the bus. But the fun wasn't over.
A white micro bus tried to overtake on several occasions and when it eventually succeeded, almost caused a pile up by cutting in very sharply in front of our bus. The horn was played long and hard and a couple of very smart young men from the back of the bus came down and spoke to the conductor. Mobile phones appeared, there was a piece of paper with numbers on and it turned out there had been some sort of incident before the microbus overtook us, which these young men had seen and they had noted the number, which they were now relaying to the police.
At a police post just before we started climbing up to the valley rim, the bus was flagged down and there was the microbus - under arrest. Our driver, the conductor, the two young men and half the passengers got off and there were some arms waving threateningly before the main players disappeared inside.
It was a very long, hot, eventful journey and I was so pleased to collapse on the bed at PGH. The cold was now in control and except for the conference meeting and a visit to the new VSO office in Patan (very smart)I spent most of the time on the bed, drinking endless bottles of water and beginning to rattle with medication.
While I was in Patan, though, I did have a wander round Durbar Square and spotted a crowd dancing to a traditional band - further investigation showed it was the procession of Rato Machchendrenath (a red image brought out for a month-long journey round Patan to encourage the monsoon to come). The idol rides around on a very tall chariot covered in branches and hauled by teams of men. Last year I saw the seto (white) version in Kathmandu, but that was static. This was leaning precariously to the right and men were pulling on ropes from the rooftops at the other side of the road, to try to return it to ann upright position.
I didn't stay around to see the outcome, but I read in the paper yesterday that the journey has been postponed because there have been found to be faults in the construction of the chariot, causing it to list to the right! This is considered very inauspicious - last year the Kathmandu version was held up because of the curfews, now Patan's talisman is having problems.
I had a very quick journey back to Hetauda (3 hours 15 minutes)via the reservoir road, on Tuesday, but it could have been much slower as traffic out of the valley along that road was held up while the King (the PM says we should just call him Gyanendra)went to give a sacrifice at the temple at Dakshinkali. Everyone else was celebrating the first new Democracy Day, but the date was right for the royal couple to go to the temple, so off they went with an armed escort and police and soldiers lining the road (we saw them, but noone knew why, possibly thinking there may be many people (Maoists) coming into the valley for the celebrations)and an army band which played the (banned) national Anthem and fired a 21 gun salute. Who gave the army permission? It seems it was the person in charge of the army - Defence Minister (and PM) GP Koirala! There's no wonder the parties are falling out - it really is an inauspicious time.
Althogh I missed it completely because there's no point in going to the bazaar when it's closed on Saturday, there was a chakkajam and transport strike in Hetauda yesterday-Maoists stopping Nepali Congress members going to a big meeting in Birgunj. The PM was supposed to be going, but decided against it.
This seems to be where we came in - blocked roads in town. The Maoist second-in-command has said today that if a republic hasn't been declared by the third week in May, indefinite peaceful agitation will begin again. That's the week after the conerence - I don't fancy being stuck in KTM again, but it would be better than being stuck in the office - I went back to work today (flu like symptoms just about disappeared, nose still running-it may soon be the only thing that is!)and there was noone there - I'll try again tomorrow, but the next two days are holidays, so they aren't likely to return for one day. I was going to the Resource Centre this afternoon to see if the RP was there, but it seems there's a national volleyball tournament being held at the school and had I been able to get through the demonstrators outside the Municipal Buildings (don't know what their grumble was) I would have had to fight my way through spectators - I don't think I would have been there if I was the RP!
Since we have so many holidays over here, I can understand why some Nepalis expect the UK to celebrate at every possible excuse too. This banner was stretched across the road near the PGH and the British Embassy last weekend -it says it's from 'the cleaner of Nepal' so I hope you enjoyed the national day last Saturday, even if you didn't know it.
