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Its been a week since we’ve returned from the trek and since I’ve written. After a day in Pokhara, we took a “microbus†(a large van in the US) to Kathmandu. Microbuses generally take 4-5 hours (since they don’t stop), but our trip lasted 9 hours thanks to tons of traffic. It was a bad start to our stay in Kathmandu.
As much as I looked forward to this city, I’m pretty disappointed. That kind of sums up my feelings about Nepal too, minus the trek. But Joylani points out to me that we came to Nepal to trek and that experience far exceeded our expectations. And for that I’m grateful and happy. On the other hand, Kathmandu has greatly fallen short of my expectations. Perhaps my expectations were too high. Istanbul was an incredible city, so I assumed that perhaps the other end of the so-called “Hippie Overland Trail,†of 60’s and 70’s fame, would be equally enthralling. Instead, I found one of the most polluted and touristy places I’ve ever been. Although relatively small with only 750,000 inhabitants, it was one of the most polluted cities I’ve ever visited. The fumes from traffic-choked alleys and constant road construction left me consistently coughing and nauseous. The other thing was that its overly touristy. I’m not just referring to the tourist district of Thamel, but the entire city. The main attraction in town is Durbar Square, a collection of buildings several hundred years old set in the middle of the city. Despite being a major thoroughfare and a public square for Nepalis, foreigners are charged to enter or even transit through the square. Not to see anything, just to be in the square. I was trying to imagine tourist police patrolling for foreigners in NY’s Times Square or SF’s Union Square, trying to make them pay. We were also asked to pay at the nicknamed “Monkey Temple,†despite the fact that it’s a religious site and Nepali’s can enter freely. Not only that, but the temple was filled with stalls selling the same junk you can buy in town. Even walking around in non-touristy areas, we couldn’t even buy fruit as Joylani was quoted ridiculous prices (higher than the US even). I don’t mind paying or paying a little more than locals, but Nepal’s really rubbed us both the wrong way. Why should we pay to transit through a public space? Why should we pay ten times the regular price for fruit? Why should we pay for things that are free for Nepalis? Again, it’s the seemingly widespread mentality of “lets leech off the foreigners†that bothers me. The thought of ‘lets provide good product/service and profit from it’ is substituted with “the foreigners are coming for the mountains, lets leech off them as much as possible while they’re here.â€
 touristy Thamel
Durbar SquareÂ
Nepal had its positive aspects too. The trek was amazing. Trekking in Nepal is even worth dealing with all the other crap I’ve just written about. Kathmandu even had its redeeming qualities. Despite having a relatively short history, Kathmandu looks like an old city with lots of old buildings and antiquated (in a good way) architecture and artwork. Going back to my Istanbul allusion, Istanbul has about 1500 years on Kathmandu as a major city, but Kathmandu looks older is many respects. Lastly, many travelers we’ve met on this trip have commented on how Nepal is like India, but nicer. I can see what they mean- there’s less litter everywhere, most buildings have toilets, its not as crazy, and people seem pretty friendly. And its touristyness has resulted in plenty of good restaurants offering international fare. Those things have been nice, but I’ll have to end this somewhat negative meandering post by saying I’m not too sad that we’ll be leaving Kathmandu tonight.
Today I tried something new without knowing it: buffalo curds. They came with my muesli as an afternoon snack. The appearance was a little bit thicker than normal curds and the taste was awful yet intriguing. It was part yogurt, part smoked salmonish flavor, part I have no idea what. My hunger and curiosity compelled me to finish them even though my mind told me “this is going to make you sick.†Much farting ensued. In other food news, we’ve been seeing lots of tomato trees. I don’t know if they’re actually tomatos, but what it looks like is a bunch of Roma tomatoes hanging off a fig tree. The tomato tree reminds me of a summer when my dad decided to grow tomatos. Instead of planting one or two, I think he planted seven or eight in the backyard. He watered them faithfully every day, which unfortunately led to their demise. The overwatering caused black fungus on the leaves. Fortunately, we were still able to eat some good tomatoes that summer, and Dad, those tomato trees reminded me of you. Back to the curds, they were homemade. How does one make curds you ask? Well, first the animal is milked; in this case, a buffalo. Then the milk is boiled for things such as tea, etc. (I learned this from the hotel owner’s son). The milk that’s left over is put in a pot, which is put on a shelf in the kitchen, where it curdifies at room temperature for a couple days until it is served to guests like me. I believe that most of the curd we’ve had on this trip is from cows, even though those have had a wide variety of tastes from your average plain yoghurt to a delicately sweet and icy tasting curd to more watery. And then there’s buffalo curd; thick, heavy, and with hints of smoked salmon- who knew? Buffalos.