November 18

I woke up early with a stomach ache, followed by a bad case of diarrhea, which lasted for a long time. The Nepalese Kitchen apparently got me this time. Around 8 AM I got a knock on the door. It was a man from the reception desk telling me that I had a phone call. I hurried down, and found that it was Lal. He told me that today was not Saturday after all, but Friday, and that I should go back to Happy Adventure Trekking, where we bought the plane tickets, to have them get me a trekking permit, unless I wanted to stand in line myself at the immigration office and save the agent's service charge. I didn't tell Lal I wasn't feeling well.

Since I was not well, I didn't go immediately, but got cleaned up and took down the laundry I had hung on a rope across the bathroom last night. Then I took an Immodium and prepared to go out, since I hadn't had diarrhea in over an hour. However, Lal came to my door before I was ready to go. I told him I had been sick, and had not been to the trekking agency yet. He offered to get the permit for me, which would cost $43, including the Annapurna Conservation Area fee. The price goes up after the fourth week of trekking. I gave him my passport and some travelers checks, including a somewhat frayed one I had been carrying in a pouch during the last trek. He said he might have trouble with that one, but took it anyway. He said he would meet me here at 5 PM with my permit, and take me to dinner at his home. He said I should be prepared to pay him for the trek at that time, and hoped that I was feeling better by then.

I was hungry now, and went to the German Bakery for a croissant, cinnamon roll, and coffee. Then I returned to my room to write postcards (the ones I bought in Gokyo) to my parents, brother, and the Canoe and Hiking Club. I also sent one to my doctor, who had requested one, telling him how the trek went. I mailed them at Pilgrim's Bookstore, where I also bought a couple maps.

Communist Victory Celebration

Patan

Snake Man

After lunch, I walked around a bit, and came upon a man who apparently was a snake charmer, surrounded by a large group of school children. He had a cobra in a basket, which he occasionally picked up and walked around with, and a number of mysterious objects spread out across the ground. A partner kept the circle in front of him clear. The man shouted a lot in Nepali. His partner sometimes grabbed the snake also, and used it to enlarge the circle when spectators came too close.

I looked around the old palace, which was being restored. A golden door in one of its courtyards appeared to have intestines draped across it. I took a picture and sat down to change film. Then I walked around the square some more, and photographed a colorful holy man with a trident sitting next to a Garuda statue in front of the palace. I was careful he wasn't looking at me, since I thought he might ask for money. Then I noticed that my leather camera case was missing. Remembering that I had removed it to change film, I went back to the intestinal door in the palace, where I found my case.

I climbed to a rooftop cafe on the other end of the square, only for the view, and got my best pictures of the entire square. Then I walked down some side streets, finding temples here and there, and large Communist banners. After several hours in Patan, I got an auto-rickshaw to take me back to Kathmandu's Durbar Square for 80 Rs. On the way back, we ran into a bigger Communist victory parade in Kathmandu, and were delayed a long time while it passed. I stopped at the house of Kumari, the living goddess, briefly, but she was not there. People were selling photos of her in front of the doorway. I saw a monkey climbing on the temples, and walked back to the hotel in time to meet Lal for dinner.

In my room, he gave me my trekking permit, and I started to write out $300 in traveler's checks to pay for the trek. He gave me back the frayed traveler's check from this morning, and said he could not use it, but I could use it at a bank. As I was filling out the traveler's checks, the lights went out for a scheduled power outage, and the generator did not come on immediately, so we decided to finish this back at his home. His cousin was waiting outside in an auto-rickshaw, and as the sun set, he took us on a wild ride to the Bodhnath area, far across town, where Lal lives. Bodhnath was featured in the film The Little Buddha, which I saw this summer.

We stopped to pick up a cake at a small store, and then left the main streets and drove out across a dark field toward a small cluster of concrete buildings. His apartment building was constructed like many in Nepal. It was probably not very old, but looked hastily constructed and barely finished. In front of it, reinforcing bars protruded from the tops of concrete pillars, as they do in buildings all over town. Lal had a corner room on the first floor. There was at least one floor above. His room was a plain, unpainted concrete cubical with large windows with thin green curtains on two walls and a high ceiling. The concrete floor was bare except for a small straw mat, where his wife sat. His three children, aged two through eight, were also present, as was his cousin. Later, Lal's brother-in-law would arrive as well. Only Lal and I wore shoes in the room. The others left their sandals outside the door.

The room was furnished with two single beds, separated by a narrow table with a Disney towel over it. Lal and I sat on opposite beds to eat at the table, while the others sat on the floor. The room was lit with a single dim, bare bulb above the door, and was unheated. There were low shelves along the wall by the door with cooking equipment, including a small kerosene stove and water bottles. There was no running water. Clothes hung on hooks along the wall over the bed, and there was a poster of Shiva over one and a Nepali calendar over the other, plus several smaller pictures of Hindu gods. A cabinet between the beds contained a stereo, and Lal put on tapes: first Nepali pop, and then an American folk singer.

Lal brought out two plates of food which had been warming on the stove. Each contained a large mound of noodles, cheese, chicken and vegetables, served over a pancake. He gave one plate to me, and divided the other between everyone else. I had way too much food, considering that my stomach still didn't feel very well, but the casserole-type dish was tasty, and I ate more than half. Lal also had several bottles of San Miguel Beer, and made sure my glass stayed full. There was also a plate of warm, greasy overcooked potato chips, probably freshly made. He apologized that they had not come out as well as he hoped. I ate only a few.

After I had had enough, Lal brought out the cake, whose icing read `Happy Day Cake'. It was very dry and sweet, with a cream icing that had the odd taste typical of Nepalese milk. I washed it down with some beer. I could only eat a small slice before I started to get a stomach ache. When I finished it, Lal cut me a bigger slice, and got out his photos. While looking for them, he came upon a torn thangka, a kind of Tibetan Buddhist painting, which he gave to me. He told me a friend of his painted it, and that it was not very good, and was torn, but that he wanted me to have it. He promised to send me a better one someday.

Lal is very proud of his photos, and he has a large stack which people gave him from all the previous trips he guided. I promised to send him some as well. He went through the photos, showing me many of his friends from various treks. As I continued to eat the cake, I started to feel sick, and Lal showed me to the bathroom upstairs. It had a cistern of water in a front room, and a squat toilet in back. I wished I had thought to bring toilet paper. I felt like I needed to go home, so I told Lal this when I went back downstairs. I had to finish signing the traveler's checks so Lal could change them before the trek, and did so quickly. He was sorry I had to leave so quickly, and asked me to take a group picture before I went. As usual, I had both my cameras with me. Then Lal's cousin drove us quickly, and somewhat recklessly, back to my hotel room. I didn't sleep very well tonight.

Copyright Scott A. Yost, 1994. All rights reserved.