Crikey!

So what do VSO vols do in their spare time? Seems like, if you're one of the townies, you spend a lot of time eating and socializing. Even a metropolitan centre like Kathmandu doesn't have too much to offer in terms of other leisure alternatives, but we try to mix it up occasionally.

A few weekends back Peter and Rosemary hosted a Murder Mystery, which was a great laugh. I had to go as Peking Tom, your stereotypical outback Aussie. Strange thing is that I didn't have to change my daily wardrobe all that much to pull off a very convincing Aussie look. The accent was painful, though.


Other activites include the rare trip to the Kereoke bar in Thamel. I haven't been but I'm not shy of the microphone, as anyone from the Canada Corps training may recall. If not, then this may jog your memory:

"you know where you are?
you're in the jungle baby!
you're gonna dieeeee!

ohhh
ohhh
oohhh-ahhhhhhhhh!!!!"

and of course, VSO being what it is, there's at least one going away party a month. I suppose my own is coming up soon.

Still, dining out is the activity of choice. There's plenty of places to check out around town, Japanese, Thai, Korean, Italian, cheap, expensive.

Last night, Ciara and I went out to one of the more posh places in town, an amazing hotel called Dwarikas. We happened to be sitting in the courtyard when none other than the American Ambassador, Mr. Moriarty (not Professor), walked in and proceded to do a meet and greet with some delegation right in front of us.

Turns out there's a Senator Specter in town and I guess Dwarikas is a good enough place to host members of the American Senate. So there you go. And you thought VSOs spent their time sleeping on grass mats, catching malaria and slowly going nuts. (that's not VSO silly, that's Peace Corps!)

back from the Himalyas

48 emails later (down to a modest 39 once the spam emails were filtered out)...

holy cow, i'm out of touch for ten days and i come back to a war in the middle east and a tsunami in Indonesia.

Langtang was absolutely amazing. We basically climbed three kilometers into the sky in three days, puttered about and then raced down. We played with Yaks, got altitude sickness (headaches mostly), pet baby goats, saw glaciers and peaks higher than anyplace in Canada. Also got ridiculous discounts because it was the off-season and we could speak Nepali. And while Ciara learned how to make Tibetan bread, Owen and I climbed to about 5000 meters, went screefing (controlled falling), climbed a peak and then ran down a mountainside like lunatics.

One day of note, on the way down we took the 'scenic' route to this one town we were trying to get to. Apparently this route isn't even used by the Tibetans/Tamang/Nepalis that live up there. That would explains why there were so many leeches on the path.

Ciara got one first, and being the concerned bfriend that i am, I immediately pulled out the camera to video the effects of pouring the alchoholic handwash on it (which works brilliantly on ticks and leeches, i might add. a must for any outdoor trekking from now on). once we had hers off, Owen noticed one in his boot, and then i noticed another in mine. We were now officially in leech territory.

we DEETed up, tucked in our socks, put on trousers but still had to stop ever five minutes to knock/scrape them off our boots. you could see them creeping over leaves and through the undergrowth towards us. we found them on our ankles, arms, legs, in our boots, sucking from our necks and backs. one almost dropped down my buttcrack when Ciara was getting it off of me. that would've been great.

happily enough this only happened on the second-to-last day. and those bloody little marks will heal in time (leeches use an anti-coagulant so their bites bleed a lot: the ankle of one of Owen's socks was soaked in blood). and in exchange, we get a great story out of it! right? (and perhaps some time in counselling for the nightmares and the insistent feeling that I can feel a leech crawling up my leg, right now)

anyway, leeches aside, i've posted some photos here.

ps - i changed Ciara's picture because her mom thought she looked a 'little under the weather'. considering she'd spend the week with two gung-ho canadians who insisted on carrying their own packs, running up and down mountains, getting up at 5:30 because it was so beautiful outside, braving leeches, washouts and altitude sickness, i think 'a little under the weather' is an understatement...

off trekking

Owen Lee, a friend of mine from the Maldives, has just tripped into town from India. He's been puttering around since his work with Mercycorps in Darfur came to an end.

Anyway he, Ciara and I are going off to Langtang for a little trek. It's gonna be great. We leave tomorrow and it's been a mad race to finish up what projects I have, get the gear we need and everything else. Of course it's monsoon season, there's leeches, etc but I'm finally hitting the Himalayas after nine months of being in Nepal. Yeow!

things i learned from the world cup

- Football (Soccer) is willing to sacrifice accurate officiating for the sake of uninterrupted play.

This stands out in stark contrast to, say, hockey, where the NHL is willing to spend more time analyzing video replays and have officiating powows than actually play the game. Or Ultimate, which is willing to sacrifice playing time in order for everyone and their pet to air their views about possible fouls, the time of day, etc and in the end allow the most persuasive and stubborn person to have their way.

-there is a magical spray all football teams have, that, when applied, will miraculously heal any team member's wounds: no matter how superficial or imaginary. Even if they've been rolling on the ground for five minutes, clutching at their eyes and screaming for a priest to perform the final rites because some horrible brute of a defender happened to wave a hand within feet, possibly inches of their face, all it takes is this spray and they will bounce off the stretcher (blinded people need stretchers, too) and be back in the game able to compete at an international level.

This spray doesn't exist for hockey players because they actually get injured.

Neither does it exist for ultimate players, because it doesn't make sense to dive in a game with no referees.

-Of all the finalists, the Croatian Team had the ugliest jerseys imaginable

-England's team isn't as good as they think it is

-Nepali people are very passionate about other nations' football teams. so much so I actually saw tears on a nepali's face last night when italy won. tears.

Summer, wha?

I've had a few emails in the last few days from back on the Wet Coast about how beautiful things are and wishing me a happy summer.What?

It's a little hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that summer has only just arrived back home, as it's been searing hot here for months. Before I even went to Thailand things were hot. And Nepal doesn't actually have four seasons, it has five (more possibly, depending on who you talk to). My poor confused Canadian biorhythms have unconsciously been anticipating fall and winter (oh glorious cold) for many weeks now. However, the hot season is only just sizzling to an end and now the long awaited monsoons are beginning.

That means hot and humid. The monsoons may be late, but they're definitely here. Yesterday, as I was leaving my flat in Pattan it was just beginning to spit a little. Hmm, I thought, I'll put on my biking poncho just in case the rain gets any heavier. As I crossed the Baghamati Bridge the full downpour hit.

The ponchos don't work.

It's a twenty minute ride up to Lazimpat. By the time I reached about halfway, around Putalisadak, I was soaked to the bone. All layers underneath the completely superfluous poncho layer were drenched, my trousers were about ten pounds heavier, my iPod was freaking out, going loud then soft, skipping songs.

I mentioned before that the route up from Pattan is uphill. Yesterday it was upstream. I was biking up a frikking muddy river, with every turn of the crank my feet (with my kickass Xmen shoes!!!) were plunged underwater. By this point cars had stopped because they couldn't see anything- so that was one positive: the ubiquitous, ugly traffic got washed away along with everything else.

I kept going because I was already drenched. It was a little scary because I couldn't see the actual road: I had one hand up to shield my eyes and the other gripping for dear life in case I blindly hit one of those small impact craters euphemistically called 'potholes'. Not only that there are actual, huge gaps along the sides of the road: for sewage, presuambly. I've hit one before, once is enough, because those gaps are actually big enough to swallow a bike's front tire.

Anyway, I made it to Lazimpat drenched to the bone but got a warm shower out of it. And the iPod survived. So have a great summer everyone back home! Enjoy your tepid seasons.