Characters >> Kamal

Kamal was our guide on our recent trip to Langtang and the Gosaikunda. Kamal is one of the most relaxed people I have ever met and a truly skilled, ingenious and resourceful human being.


Before becoming a guide, Kamal went to work (as many Nepali's do) abroad. He hoped to make enough money to send home to his wife so they could live a good life. He signed a contract, and had to pay a fee to the agent for finding him the work, along with his airfare, visas etc. He went with a bunch of other guys all committed to the same thing. They were going to be labourers on a worksite to build a new hospital in Saudi Arabia.

On arrival however, they were forced to sign new contracts, for less than half the pay and poorer conditions than they were expecting. Working it for a few weeks it became clear that Kamal was not going to be making enough money to feed himself, let alone send money home to his wife. He decided to take control.

He started making whiskey and rakshi and selling it on the black market. "I just buy the water bottles, refill them with rakshi, and no one know". Although he probably didn't make mint, he was doing well for himself and was happy that he was able to send money home. I can't remember how long he was at it. His biggest comcern seemed to be getting caught for working illegally, not for selling alcohol. Apparently he got away with that rather easily. "Oh, I am new here, I didn't know". I don't exactly buy that part, but that's how he tells it.

Eventually, that is what he got busted for. He was thrown in jail, and from what I have read, getting a trial or even someone to pay attention to you can be very difficult. "So I grew long beard, very long - I didn't like it". "I tell everyone that I am Muslim, I am not, but they called me the Nepali Muslim! The guys in there looked after me". He made money selling cigarettes and other things people needed (the Morgan Freeman of the Shawshank Redemption) - i have always wondered how someone goes about getting stuff to sell inside a jail, but he didn't really explain. He was still able to send money home apparently, and made more money on the inside than he did selling booze.

After three months, he was released and hightailed it back to Nepal and his wife Laxmi. He worked as a porter and using his ability to raise the best out of any situation worked his way to being a guide and now seems to live quite a comfortable life. He is very proud that his wife runs their tea shop and makes enough bank to look after the daily things while he makes enough money for school fees and books for their beautiful children. He and Laxmi make an odd couple, as they are from different castes, and he constantly fights a battle for acknowledgement with her father. Probably part of the reason he ventured abroad to try and make money.

I've been meaning to tell this story for ages, but was out at their tea shop today and it all came flooding back to me. His daughter Kiran tried to tell me a story, but there were far too many gods for me to keep up with, and she quickly gave up. She did tell a joke that she was very proud of, "there was a patient who loved a nurse. And then the patient gave the nurse an apple. But the doctor also loved her. But the nurse not know the men love with her. And then she asked why the patient gave her apple. He said, 'an apple today make the doctor go away'".

Langtang by Camera

[took us 6 hours to realise that the driver didn't know there was supposed to be oil in the car]

[I guess there'll be no hot water this morning then?]

[no child, its my camera]

[playing in snow, i never get tired of it]

[Himalayas - word]

[mastered the hill of death]

[Kamal thought he'd check in on the wife and kids]

[still slightly delerious from the hill of death, hair's so long!]

[Jojo pretends to be unimpressed, those aren't clouds kids...]

[in a pathetic attempt to dry my clothes i hang them from the back of my pack during the day...it doesn't work]

[Krishna and Subas borrow our sunnies to avoid snow blindness]

[Clint surveys the Gosaikunda]

[there aren't words]

[our highest point, 4600m - Gosaikunda Pass]

[view from 4600m - Surya Peak ~5000]

To ABC - in a Nutshell

It's rather difficult to wrap up an amazing 14 day trip in a single post, but I'm going to do my best.

Day 1 - Riding - Kathmandu to Mugling

• Plan: Get up super early (ie 5 o'clock), beat the traffic get in as much as possible while it is still cool in the morning.
• Actual course of events: at midnight, am still up frantically trying to work out how to make all the stuff fit into my bag. Question whether 7 pairs of underwear is too many, decide to toss the Rubik's cube and second book. Actually depart at 6.30 after a sleep in, a breakfast disaster and managed to lose a waterbottle before making it to Patan (2 km).
• Traffic bustling, took a wrong turn in a part of Kathmandu I have never seen, almost die from pollution and contemplate the weight of my pack and the potential that I might have bitten off quite a bit more than I could chew.
• By 8 am, made some distance but weather sweltering. Smile, wave and laugh at buses passing me by with boys sitting on the roof and waving.
• Make friends with guys on a passing motorbike, only to catch them just after lunch and go for a swim together in the Trishuli River. Start to freak out as they point out they don't actually know how to swim. Realise this is the kind of thing you can only do when travelling alone, as if I were in a group not only would I have not met the boys, but probably not have jumped into a river.
  
• Swearing at the heat and my bum - which was screaming in agony at this point - roll into Mugling, a truck stop town, with nothing but dust, yelling children and a broken fan in my room.

Day 2 - Riding - Mugling to Pokhara.

• Down some panadol to quell the aching pain in the muscles and bones that I didn't even know existed in my nether regions.
  
• Swear at why I thought this might have been a good idea.
• Come around the side of a mountain, look up to curse Life, The Universe and Everything, to be smacked in the face by the most amazing view of the mountains watching over me as I ride. Remembered again THAT is exactly why I was riding and why I wanted to do it alone.
• Wonder why I haven't seen a single bus, taxi or truck all day.
  
• Reached Pokhara University with a sigh of relief only to discover it is another 10 km to go.
• Discover it another 10 km to get to my colleague's wife's house to deposit bicycle. Get there to also discover the magical Nepali equation that cultural differences multiplied by married woman, white man and adding sweaty, sunburnt and dirty condition meant it too much to expect a nice cup of tea.
• Found out there was a nationwide strike meaning no buses etc, and that I would have to walk the 15 km to my hotel.
• Hitched 2 seperate rides with motorbikes, the latter taking me to his home for a cup of tea where I found myself trying to convince him that I would rather stay in a hotel overnight although his hospitality was very much appreciated.

Day 1 - Hiking - Pokhara to Phedi and Pothana

• Rain, bueaucratic nonsense, bad directions and a ride on the roof of a bus found me leaving Phedi at about noon.
• Met Bruce - insane hippie man from NZ, "locked up by Sir Joh under the Vagrant's Act". Using a golf club as a walking stick. Up what I thought to be one of the most collossal staircases ever created I found myself refilling with water in the tiny one shop town of Damphus.
• There a towering American from Delaware called Bryan appeared in front of me and enquired if I was going to ABC (Annapurna Base Camp). After replying in the affirmative we became travelling buddies.
• Asserting to share a room to lower costs, the young boy (about 9) at the second lodge we came to in Pothana dropped the price from 200R to 50R before we even started bargaining. Boy ran around for us all night, more than excited to do anything imaginable for us. I have a strong feeling he would have hiked up the mountain and taken the photos for me had I asked him to.
  
• Continually smacked in the gob by images of Machupucharre (Fishtail mountain)
  

Day 2 - Hiking - Pothana to Jhinu

• It's all uphill baby.
  
• Survived leech attack.
• Bathed in the hot springs while creepy old man watched on and smiled contentedly. He hand signalled that I should wring out my underwear to dry off "no ladies, no problem". Elected to wear wet undies back to lodge.
• So close to mountains that we can't see them. Literally "can't see the mountains for the trees".
• Not a fan of squat toilets - particularly when cold and legs tired from exercise..
  

Day 3 - Hiking - Jhinu to Dovan

• As we passed Chomrong (where my theory on the stairs of Phedi where laid to waste [in a rather uncomfortable sticky and smelly way]) the road from Ghorepani joine dus and became that much more busy.
• A couple of Dutchmen walked past us in the other direction - no bags - assumed they had a porter (sad looking Nepali that carries immense weights up the hill). 10 minutes - no porter - tried to communicate to Bryan - "I wonder where the dutchmen's porter is" - misinterpretation due to waterfall.- thought I asked "have you heard of Dutchmen's Porter?" - acknowledged that that was a pretty cool name for a band - and thus the travelling "Dutchmen's Porter" was born.
  
• From that moment onwards whenever we crested a massive hill you could hear the cry "Dutchmen's Porter" with much posing like rock stars and we would pound fists as the Americans are so fond of doing.
• Stairs up and down from Chomrong started playing agony on my knee.
  

Day 4 - Doban to Machupucharre Base Camp (spelling alters based on altitude sickness, age of map, amount of beer consumed and which sign you are looking at)

• Starting to feel the cold.
• Made it by 1pm, at lunch and qould have contemplated the beauty of the mountains, if we could have seen more than 10m through the fog.
• Billions of sheep that sound like humans imitating sheep.
• Now at an altitude of more than 3800m, but have hiked higher tdue to up and downness of the road on the way (at times fearing we might end up back in the ocean).
• Met Cloe, the insane Belgian who had made it from Chomrong to MBC in a day.
  

Day 5 - MBC to ABC

• 4am wake up
  
• Bryan without enough clothes - wore everything he owned and two blankets, almost died from cold*
• Climb to ABC for sunrise and breakfast.
  
• Many photos with loud obnoxious Australians, Cloe, Bryan and passing Norwegian group who seemed to have no idea they continued to walk in on everyone's photos.
• Enjoyed fantastic breakfast with beer and a rising sun.
• Moment ruined by being asked to move to make way for Norwegian group (that apparently all need to sit at the same table regardless of the fact that with a group of 20 people, you can't talk to them all anyway)
• Resolved to be dark at confrontational to all future group travellers.
• Determined to touch some snow - climbed up a major rock fall - much to the digust of aforementioned knee. Almost made it (about 200-300m above ABC)- decided I liked life too much. Got some beautiful fresh and freezing water. Climbed back down - also to disgust of knee.

*Not really

The return trip has many lovely anecdotes, including a deaf man with a marijuana tree, a bald man with gum boots, some codeine pill popping, a running Frenchman, some Israelis (one of whom walked a little like Frankenstein or the BFG), mountains peeling like bananas and the second most beautiful view of the whole trek covered by inpenetrable clouds. But I believe that's enough for now.

Hashing the Field

I'm getting behind in my adventures. Two weekends ago, Katherine (my little insane trekking buddy) and I tripped to Nagarjun Forest (where incidentally, I have since found out the ex-king [how can you be an 'ex-king?] is in exile in a cottage [that probably more resembles a palace]).
Is was a 5 k walk to get to the entrance, 10 k's to the 'summit' and back and another 5 k back home - because it seems we were either too emotionally or intellectually disabled by this point to barter with a taxi driver for a realistic fare home. Looking back upon that moment, 5 km really is probably worth $6, still, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger (or at the least sore, which generally makes you feel like you've acheived something).

Just after we had arrived at the entrance to the forest, and potentially naively handed over Katherine's only ID to the Armed Policeman (not that he had a gun, that's just the term for the service) it started to rain. Not to be put off at yet another reminder that this is not the right time of year to be going walking in Nepal we donned out next to useless raincoats and started up the hill on what some people might call a track* (see footnote).

Within 10 minutes we looked like drowned rats, but we by the time we reached the top, the worst of the rain had passed, we had de-leeched, killed about 40 bazillion mosquitoes and had (again) a most exquisite view of Kathmandu (that's 3 weeks running for me folks!). Eww icky leeches...

The Buddhist stupa at the top is apparently a common pilgrimage point for Buddhists around the world. We wouldn't really know except for the signs because apparently they got the memo about not trekking in the monsoon...

Needless to say we hiked back down, which was pretty, slippery and fun although a little less wet (but twice as exhausting) but there is more to tell you of the last week, so I shall continue.

On Thursday at approximately 3.29pm (i knock off at 3.30) I was asked if I would like to go on a field trip to Nuwakot on Friday. "FIELD TRIP!" was my instant excited response, but to be responsible and follow the rules, I had to ask, "where are we going?, how are we getting there, where are we staying?" etc. The response was, "well if you don't want to come..."

Quickly I arranged for approval and before I knew it found myself outside Hotel Shangri-La waiting for the car to pick me up at 6.30 am Friday morning. We drove for 2-3 hours, along the side of a hill allowing buses and the like to pass us on seemingly tiny one-lane roads. Constantly pausing for me to get a good photo, and trying to teach me Nepali and explaining what exactly it was we were going to do in Nuwakot all at the same time, the 5 of us (Menoj [the driver], Mohan [the counterpart], Bhoj Raj [the self-appointed Rob assistant, regardless of whether he wants one or not], and guy who's name can't be remembered and now too much time has passed for Rob to ask]) made our way to the town of Trishuli.

There we spent an entire day teaching Female Community Health Volunteers about how to recognise the signs of childhood blindess so they could go back to their villages, screen children and send them on to the Community Eye Centre in Trishuli. Some of them had travelled more than 5 hours on foot to be there. Of course, I assume this is what happened because the entire day, and all the handouts were in Nepali. "How obvious" you might say, well its not so obvious when a chunk of the women were actually illiterate. It could have been in Swahili for all they knew.

The night we stayed at a "5 star resort" according to Whatzisname "haha I make joke" where the mattresses were like rocks lying on a bed of rock. The food and beer was unbelievable though, and we ate by candlight as the hydroelectric power station above the town didn't seem to be on the clock 24/7. We shared an 8 bed dorm and they tried to make me more comfortable by putting one rock mattress on top of another. The boys (Menoj, Whatzisname and Bhoj Raj) acted like it was a 14 year old slumber party and wouldn't let me sleep. My Mp3 player and rubik's cube were the hit of the party. [I was sitting there twitching as they destroyed 2 hours of work on that damn Rubik's cube, but I did love to see them so excited].

Our return to Kathmandu was an adventure, as large portions of the road we took to get to Trishuli had been washed away overnight. Every man and his spade was out on the road trying to help out insane motorists (like ourselves) to get through. So I can add a spot of road maintenance to the list of achievements in Nepal.

After returning, I met up with Avi, who I had foolishly agreed to go 'hashing' with. Some of you may have heard of the "Hash House Harriers". Well, the Himalayan chapter of the club describe themselves as a drinking club with a walking problem. Before I knew it, I was back at Nagarjun Forest running up a hill on all fours, in the most non-eco-friendly trekking experience of my life, following random shouts of "on-on" which I took to mean that someone had found the trail we should be on. There was a moment where we had to jump a brick wall, when someone said "I think we're meant to pay to be in here, I think the ex-king lives in here" the serious reply was, "yeah, if you see an Armed Police officer carrying a rifle, run faster".

I'm putting hashing on my list of 10 most awesome experiences in my life, I shall see if I can keep up the momentum when I meet them all again next week!

* Of course, you would only call it a track if you were descended from mountain goats and had some kind of miraculous glue shoe that allows you to stay on it.