My Soggy Safari

My luck with the weather finally ran out. I had been skirting around Asia’s monsoon season all through Southeast Asia but the rains finally caught up with me here in Nepal and most forcefully while visiting Royal Chitwan National Park where I was on a 3-day safari.Our canoe ride down the Rapti river was a complete washout. Buckets of rain poured down on me and four Chinese tourists who were wiggling around so much in our already unsteady vessel I thought our dugout canoe was definitely going to go bottoms up- And although I decided to take a little dip into the Nile last year in Uganda, we had seen a crocodile in this river on the previous day and I was not interested in another close encounter.

Our “jungle walk” was more like a jungle swim sloshing through shin deep water in elephant grass that stood 6 feet tall and was swarming with leeches. The highlight of the walk was seeing some Rhino poo-which was extremely exciting as you can imagine. Did you know Rhino’s relieve themselves in the same exact spot and that they drop about 20 kilos every time they have to go! Anyway, we then trudged over to an elephant-breeding center and used cookies to entice a sweet baby elephant to join us cuckoo tourists out in the pouring rain so we could feed him.

My favorite part of the safari was definitely the afternoon elephant ride through the actual national park. The rains eased up enough to make it an enjoyable ride through some pretty intense jungle. It was really amazing watching our elephant “work” as it cleared small trees from the path with ease. We found a sleeping rhino under the brush and our guide steered the elephant directly towards it in order to flush it out into the field for a better view. Being at a safe vantage point from on top of the elephant we were able to get very close to the big male rhino who seemed kind of annoyed we woke him up and soon stormed off, in a full sprint, in the opposite direction. I was really hoping we would spot a tiger on the safari but alas the illusive Bengal remained hidden- we did see some deer, birds and wild boar- but I’m pretty sure the tiger would have been a little more exciting.

Although my safari ended up being sort of a bust the little town of Chitwan was an exceptional place and I really enjoyed just hanging out with the local Tharu’s. I spent some time taking photos of the young boys who were fishing and swimming in the crocodile infested river and befriended some of the teenage girls who proudly showed me their homes made of dirt and cow dung. It’s hard to explain but the town had a very special feeling to it. Women would sift through dried corn on the street as men would ride by in horse drawn wooden carts and at the same time an elephant would come walking down the small dirt street without anyone batting an eyelash. The rains might have kept the animals hidden but discovering the people who live among them was well worth the trip.

Nepal

The journey from Vietnam to Katmandu, Nepal was quite a whirlwind. I spent three days traveling through four countries (Vietnam, Thailand, Bangladesh, Nepal)- was up and down in airplanes 5 times and went through 8 different custom checkpoints! But I arrived safe and sound in an environment completely different than Southeast Asia. Walking the streets of Katmandu is a sensory overload- the new sights, smells and sounds was as overwhelming as it was exciting.

The streets of Thamel, the section of the city where I was staying, are tiny, muddy mazes overflowing with people, miniature taxis and men try to pedal their 3-wheeled rickshaws through the chaos. There are tiny wooden storefronts painted with Coca-cola or Pepsi logos, spice sellers guarding their colorful mounds of powder and shops filled with trekking equipment and scarves made of cashmere or yak wool.

Women shop and mingle through the streets dressed in lavish sari’s all the colors of the rainbow- standing out like rays of sunshine- against the brown dirty streets. Teenage boys in Brittney Spears tee shirts- from back when she was still beautiful- try to look tough flirting with girls walking by and bright-eyed schoolgirls, in pig tails tied up with ribbons and tiny studs in their noses, giggle excitedly at the chance to practice their English on a westerner.

Wandering through the city I would occasionally encounter a “Holy Man” dressed in a bright orange robe who would trap me, chanted something over my head while holding a yellow carnation then smudged a red dot on my forehead for good luck before proceeding to demand a hefty donation. I’m not one to shun somebody who wants to give me some good luck but I had to start refusing these men who for some reason only want to give their “good luck” to tourists with seemingly big pockets.

Walking through the many temples in Durbar Square was a great afternoon as I admired the intricate designs of the chiseled wooden facades and blushed at the explicit karma sutra depictions that were everywhere. There are also numerous Buddhist stupas to visit all over the city. The white temples are decorated with the all seeing blue eyes of Buddha looking out over Katmandu from all four corners of the temple and they are dripping in technicolor prayer flags that look like spider webs crisscrossing through the courtyards sky. The air is filled with chanting streaming through the open windows of nearby Tibetan Monasteries where little boy monks pray and clank away on instruments creating a wonderful spiritual ruckus.

I really enjoyed the Nepali people. They are warm, friendly and don’t try to rip you off too bad. But the best part of their culture was seeing the men just as busy as the women. While traveling through east Africa last year I was totally disgusted by the bulk of the men because of how idle they were and how it was the women who bore the burden of all the work. But here in Nepal there was no job too small or frivilous for the men. They sold fruit on the sides of the tiny streets, gave other men a clean shave on the sidewalk and the small sherpas, bowlegged and bulging with leg muscles, would carry anything from couches to refrigerators on their backs!

Before arriving in Nepal I only had one thing on my adgenda- to see Mt. Everest. I wasn’t into doing any kind off long trek to the base camp or anything, I just wanted to see the darn thing! The plan was to take a nice relaxing 1 hour mountain flight over the Himilayas. However, after talking to a bunch of other travelers and doing some research I became enthralled with the idea of reaching base camp and experiencing at least a tiny bit of what so many people have suffered through before me. Unfortunately my timing in Nepal couldn’t have been worse. I arrived at the height of their monsoon season and all flights to Lukla, the small mountain town where you begin the trek, were cancelled. I waited for over a week, went back and forth to the airport several times and finally had to give up my hopes for reaching base camp. Sadly, the miserable weather even grounded the mountain flights so I couldn’t go back to my original plan. It was a pretty big let down coming all the way to Nepal and not getting to at least see Everest. I’m a pretty stubborn person and if I say I’m going to do something there is very little that can stop me. The monsoon may have won this time but Nepal is a place I would have liked to come back to anyway- now I only have more of an incentive.

The Sa Pa Life and Dog For Dinner

Reaching Vietnam’s northern mountain town of Sa Pa was like taking a much need breath of fresh air- literally. No more of Hanoi’s exhaust and pollution- just clean mountain air surrounded by a place of immaculate beauty. I had originally planned on only staying for 3 days in lovely Sa Pa and ended up lingering for 8 soaking up the relaxing life of the hill tribes.

My days were filled with wonderfully strenuous hikes through the most stunning countryside I have seen in Southeast Asia. I loved watching the small tribal boys, that couldn’t have been more than 9-years-old, herd enormous water buffalo around their land- the massive beasts obeying their tiny masters dutifully. Or observing the women, knee deep in mud, working the rice paddies flooded in golden sunlight. Each day I would stumbling upon breathtaking views, as I got lost on several occasions, looking for remote villages to explore and I couldn’t help but to stare at the tiny, old, wrinkled ladies carrying impossibly heavy loads on their backs up the steep trails, slick with red clay.

Visiting the town’s popular street market was a routine excursion and always entertaining. Livestock would be herded down the main street while the women try to sell their handmade goods decorated with colorful, intricate designs.

There are around 8 different tribes that reside in the mountains surrounding Sa Pa. I became closest with women from the H-Mong tribe. Women from this tribe wear huge, heavy necklaces, several large hoop earrings in each ear and they wrap their waist length hair around their heads- wearing it like a crown. Most marry at the age of fifteen and many have one or two children in tow before they reach twenty. Their arms and hands are generally stained indigo from dying their handmade clothes- something that looked almost like a uniform because everyone wore the same exact thing- and they are tiny! For the first time in my life I felt tall- like a giant actually- walking next to these fiercely strong, little women who barely reached the shoulders of my 5’3” frame.

One wonderful afternoon I befriended a pint-sized girl from the this tribe who took me to her home a mere 8 miles away. 10-year-old Maya walked with ease, never once slowed down or took a break and carried a basket on her back that had to have weighed about 20 pounds. When we reached her home- a wooden shack nested into a cluster of bamboo trees with a million dollar view- I couldn’t wait to sit down and rest my weary legs while she proceeded to race around the house cooking me lunch!

I found it terribly interesting that these hill tribes don’t consider themselves Vietnamese. Being so secluded and holding on so strongly to their rather ancient ways and traditions, I would have to agree- they were definitely different than the Vietnamese I had encountered in the rest of the country. They were a lot more welcoming, a lot more friendly and although they would hassle me to buy things from them- “no” actually worked as an answer and it wasn’t held against me. But what was most surprising was that these people who look so traditional, so primitive-like they haven’t changed in the last 100 years- spoke English very well!!

In addition to my daily wanderings it was incredibly gratifying to sleep in an environment where I wasn’t covered in sweat as I tried to get a good nights rest. Curling up beneath a cozy comforter was something, at the time, I didn’t realize how much I missed. It rained almost daily for an hour or two usually in the morning washing away all my guilt as I slept in late trying to recover from my strenuous journey though the rest of the country.

Anyway, it became sort of a joke among myself and a few people I had been traveling with when we saw something strange or unusual- we would laugh and say that you really see something new everyday… well here in Sa Pa I was out for one of my daily walks and watched a man put a skinned dog into a big pot of water- presumably their dinner. I had heard about the Vietnamese’s strange culinary tastes but I also heard dog has been off the menu for some time now. I almost vomited on the spot and began a fearful account of every meat dish I had eaten in Sa Pa- praying that this house wasn’t supplying the local restaurants with their special meat. I try really hard not to judge these different cultures I come in contact with but seriously- EEEEUUUWWWW!!!! No Fido fillets for me please!

It was so nice to end my time in Vietnam in the town of Sa Pa. Everyday, walking through such breathtaking scenery and among these peaceful people was an invigorating experience. I am always so amazed- well more like impressed- when I come across people who have the modern world knocking on their door and they refuse to answer. They appear perfectly content to live the way their great grandmothers did and although through our eyes they appear primitive I can’t help but feel a little envious of their undying pride.