NePaL by KaReN Kaede
Luxury five star hotels, international gourmet cuisine, designer brands and a passport to visit almost every major city in the world--the perfect life of a flight attendant. (or so it seems on the outside)
Quick to drop our luggage at hotel check-ins, the after touch-down routine is to shop the house down at our favourite haunts. After hearing my plans of a trip to Asia’s mountainous Nepal and Bhutan, my colleagues’ responses varied from ‘Oh...that’s nice...’, to ‘Hm, and where exactly is that again?’. Because this is not what we do. Given a chance, we drag empty bags to all too familiar shopping streets in Hong Kong, Seoul, Tokyo or Taiwan just to return home with a heavier bag, a frustrated credit card, and a lighter LV wallet. That’s possibly why it surprises even me to find Jermaine, Michelle and I queueing for a visa at Tribuvhan International Airport in Kathmandu.
When I exit most arrival halls, a luggage van with the airline crest is waiting with a large printed signage heralding our arrival.
Instead, there was something refreshing about the scene of my young guide Mr Tenzeeng Sherpa and his private car waiting eagerly with a handwritten signage, and flower garlands as a welcome gesture.
This is Nepal, there is no need for a rigid itinerary. In a concoction of the blazing afternoon sun, awkward introductory conversations, and cars honking on the road to Durbar Square, our senses were fed by the experience of the streets of Thamel.
Here, a woman selling her wares, there someone negotiating the price of fruit, in the corner shopkeepers squinting in the afternoon sun waiting for someone to buy their woven scarves and carpets...
It felt so surreal--sitting at the mod designed Flavours rooftop cafe, sipping Yarchagumba Tea, watching a lady praying in devotion, and taking in the beauty of Bouddhanath in the setting sun. The large painted Buddha Eyes seem to will you into peace, and though the streets were busy, it feels as though noise and strife can’t touch you at all. And at that moment when I fell in love, Nepal seemed to have even more in stored for me.
We stood in front of one Club Paradise, while our guide negotiated the cover charge for us. It was Day Two, and only the beginning of my experience in Pokhara. We were tired after a 5 hour drive from Kathmandu, but friends are made with drinks in hand. There was bonding and dancing, and I found a glimpse of Nepali culture between the cultural dinner dance and modern club scene in front of me.
Early morning scenes went like this: a warm shower, then loading up with magic creams and lotions. Black shorts, a ghastly-coloured backpack and awful hair was about the maximum I could take. We are city girls and we could not abandon daily grooming routines. I believe it is a girl’s daily ritual to prepare herself for the day ahead. But I swear, nothing could have prepared me for the day of adventure ahead.
Tenzeeng very kindly boated us across the river to where we should begin our short hike up to the World Peace Stupa. The calm Phewa Lake will have you singing Moon River like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The Temple was a magnificent reward for our poorly-exercised hearts and panting breaths. A scooter and two bicycles later we were at Devi’s Fall, where a little boy volunteered himself as our tour guide. Bat-caving was expected. But bat-cave-hopping was not really in my expectations. We went from Devi’s Fall to Mahendra Cave, Bat Cave, and Gupteswor Cave. In each cave I think we discovered a little more. We learnt of the Shiva linga, a Hindu phallic structure that represented God Shiva, speaking of life and fertility. In another cave, we learnt how bad we were at the concept of handholds and footholds when it came to climbing rocks, and I personally had to put aside my gripping claustrophobia or fall to a tragic death. At a third, I was amused at how our torchlight could literally light the path for the entire cave-full of other strangers, who followed us for no other reason. At the end of the day, I know I will not forget the little guide singing a wide-lipped version of the traditional Nepali song, ‘Resham Firiri’ and clapping his hands along.
On Day Four I found myself in a van full of Caucasians, feeling like we were three Asian freaks brought to circus exhibitionism or something. We were on the way to Sarangkot with our paragliding ‘pilots’, as they were called, and upon introduction, I wondered if any of them really knew where our tiny little country of origin was. A little bit of waiting, putting on some gear, running off the cliff, and we were in the air! I gasped, I don’t know what from, surprise at my lack of anxiety or the beauty of the experience of floating in the air. The weather let us down, the haze blurring the beautiful mountainous view I had imagined. Instead, I sat back and let my Swiss pilot explain the idea of paragliding, tried my hand at the controls, followed the eagles for a bit and ah well, got a feel of it all.
It was a slow day. We also visited the Mountaineering Museum, where we wow-ed at the exhibits of mountain stones, flora and fauna as well as pictures of the Himalayan Giants. Later, while searching for a good view of the sunset, we took a long walk, appreciating the farming life and natural sights. As if to enhance the sentimentality of the evening, a carrom board appeared to remind us of the times the three of us would play in our childhood. So we did, until we hitchhiked on a minivan going back to the main part of Pokhara. Souvenir shopping, dinner, drinks and a live band later, we called it a night.
I know it’s a cheap shot. But the following morning as we abandoned our battered shoes to tell the tale of our adventures, we left Pokhara feeling a teensy little prouder that we’d stepped out of the duvet of our five star bed, and got a little more out of life.
A couple of hours later, we stirred from our lazy slumber in the car, and were back at our hotel in Kathmandu. It was a strange sense of dejavu. Our trip had not yet been completed, but going back to the very first hotel we stayed brought mixed feelings of excitement like the beginning of the trip, and a little bittersweet knowledge that we were coming to the end of our little holiday.
On the afternoon of the very day we visited the Syambhunath, or the Monkey Temple, believed to have appeared out of nothing by the local Bhuddhists. The top of the temple offers an all-encompassing view of the city of Kathmandu. In the evening, we were very honoured to be treated to our guide’s Sherpa hospitality at his very own home. It was one thing to be led around by a local, who showed you the local sights and local food, but it was certainly another thing, to be treated as a dear friend in a local residence. Home cooked meals have always been good, if not better, and I have to say, their home-brewed cordyceps-infused whiskey proved to be of top shelf quality. (I am a whiskey drinker, and this is really no exaggeration!)
I remember the morning of our departure was dreadfully cold. The car pulled up to the domestic terminal, and I half-jumped, half-shivered to the building, despite the protection of my Made-In-Nepal poncho. We got on the Yeti Airlines plane with much excitement and secured front row seats. Each passenger had been assigned a window seat to provide each of us with a clear view of the mountain tour. The first ten minutes was a huge disappointment. I was beginning to think, ‘That’s it? That’s the magnificent view of the world’s highest peaks I’m supposed to see?’. In my mind, I was already planning my next trip back so that I could check ‘item number 3: see Mount Everest’ off my bucket list.
Alas, my trip was not all wasted. The hugely photographed celebrities of the Himalayan Range came into view, poised and stunning like those of Hollywood on the red carpet. The flight attendant very kindly introduced the peaks to us, and invited us into the cockpit for an exclusive view. I felt like I could trade a day of my job for hers.
The Everest flight was an extremely poignant ending to my trip. Seeing the mountain ranges reminded me why I was here. I had found a little peace of mind. I had found a little perspective, having put my insignificant position next to the World’s Highest Mountain. I felt extremely lucky in my little place. I felt like I understood a little how I wanted to live my life. Yes, the word is awe, thank you very much.
