A very close shave

There's been a change of plan.  I was supposed to be in Vipassana right now 3/4 way through 10 days of silence (no reading/writing/speaking/eye contact).  However, I was so sick when I arrived that I couldn't even fill in the form (two attempts to write my name below and it's still not my handwriting!).  Two days later and I was in hospital.  It all happened for a very very good reason :)

Here's how it all happened.....

+ Why listening to Dr Who is a bad idea

+ How I know when I'm sick

+ Nepalese Elephant porn

+ I have lunch with the mayor 

+ Shopping.....back to India

When I finished my last blog I was feeling pretty rough.  I'd had a chest infection for one month and in my yogi way had tried to battle it with honey, ginger and Vit C.  I'll stick to the alternative meds for prevention and chemical nukes for treatment in the future.  What I hadn't done was rest or go to the doc which resulted in it getting worse and combined with some food poisoning meant that I turned up at Vipassana looking like I was on the way to a methadone clinic.  Everyone was there wearing loose fitting summer clothes with big happy smiles.  I was there wearing all my layers, soaked in sweat with my hoody up as I couldn't stand the noise.  I couldn't stand the noise at the vipassana reception, the quietest reception you will ever go to.  I had taken some medical advice, I'd called Dr WHO (see prev post) and he had advised me to get some nukes from the local pharma.  Nukes which clearly weren't working.

Two days later, I found myself on the floor of the toilet, shaking with a chill, with my head over a bucket.  I decided to finally seek proper medical advice.  I went to the local international hospital and knew just how sick I was when I didn't flirt with a single nurse.  What I had wasn't that serious but I needed a day on IV to get me on the road to recovery.  I had chest and bowel infections and Dr WHO had misdiagnosed me on the phone and suggested something that made matters worse.  It was my fault.  I had pleaded in broken english with Dr WHO for something that would be a quick fix so that I could do Vipassana.  There was no quick fix.  

After the IV, Nepalese Momos was my diet for the last week :)

So I had 10 days on my hands in Kathmandu.  5 days to recover with a thermometer in my mouth.  I actually loved the downtime, indulging in the 'opposite of vipassana' with movie marathons, facebook overdose and long overdue chats with friends on skype.  It also meant I could catch up on really exciting things like tax returns, job applications, flights, visas.  And THAT is where I realised that it had all happened for a reason.

Indian visas are complicated.  I have had visas for countries in all continents and never come across such a cumbersome senseless process.  If you are a UK citizen they make this even more painful by charging nearly twice the price of most other passport holders.  My visa application process is becoming a problem as I've gone from tourist visa to employment visa back to tourist.  It appears although I've been helping out in the country they don't want me back.  Had I been in Vipassana I would not have been able to complete all the additional requests from the Indian embassy.  Not being in Vipassana also meant I got to say a proper goodbye to a lurvely Galway Gal I'd met out the week before.  It does, all happen for a reason ;)

So I'm now still in Kathmandu.  The embassy have my passport and I cannot leave until it's fixed.  If India were not so amazing, I would have ignored it and chosen to spend more time elsewhere but where I'm staying is full of people waiting for their passport for that very reason.  It is worth the wait.  

I'm now bored silly of Kathmandu.  I've met some very cool peops but despite being a quiet place in the mountains it is still a capital city.  And unlike the lovely Indian mountain resorts like Rishikesh, Kathmandu is not about yoga and peace it's about trekking and partying.  More like Cusco, a little Ibiza in the mountains.

The one thing it does have is shopping.  Being the closest big town to Everest base camp this is a trekkers delight for technical equipment.  There's a lot of fake stuff here but even that is top quality.  And if you are a fan of Hindu Deities, Buddha or mala beads then this is paradise.

Nepalese sellers are softly spoken in comparison to their Indian counterparts.  The only annoyance is the sarangi sellers.  A small nepalise folk music instrument which they will play right up next to your ear.  It's a poor cousin to the guitars I used to make at toddler group out of tuppawear and rubberband when I was 5.

Being a little party town there are also plenty of dealers around.  The one different kind of dealer you get here is Tiger Balm dealers.  You get guys poking out of dark alleys saying "hey my friend do you want some tiger balm.....it's good stuff."   Apparently it's an aphrodisiac.  I prefer Barry White and a glass of wine.  I did (remember I was bedridden for a week so had some time.....) google 'Tiger Balm aphrodisiac' and it seems women like the smell as it reminds them of a changing room full of men.   I'd LOVE to meet the women who completed that yahoo answers forum.

Just to mention the contrast to shopping in India. Customer service in India is bad.  You are assured good customer service in the 5* hotels but in most activities you'll be lucky if you get eye contact.  One thing that is changing that is supermarkets in India.  I'm a fan of buying local produce from local markets but at least the supermarket chains are introducing good service.  Whereas the market usually 1) charge me a special 'white lanky bloke' price and 2) cough all over my change.

   

This was my local supermarket in Karol Bagh.  Maximising use of the merchandise space.  Note that maximise is different from optimise......I couldn't get down the aisle. 

My local supermarket loved me.  The manager would always come over and shake the hand of the pale man in his shop, emanating me to Hollywood star status among his staff.  I was also the only person I ever saw who got let in with any bag (they take them off you for security) by the guard on the door.  Good job they don't know just how many cadburys cream eggs I used to nick from my local news agents as a kid ;)

Like anything in India, you always expect the unordinary to happen.  90% of the time I shopped in my local supermarket Bollywood music blared out of the speakers and my dizzy creative mind would imagine turning a corner to see all the staff among the barrels of rice busting out a Bollywood dance routine.  The only time I ever saw them animated to music was when Guns and Roses on the speakers.  The song was 'Crazy'.  Not the best song to learn English from ;)

Payment in India is also quite special.  PIN machines are a new concept and they often ask you for your PIN number as opposed to asking you to enter it.  When you do enter it, unlike the western world where we all look away, in India you get a little audience.  I like to play with this by saying four random numbers (not my PIN) totally confusing their English and hopefully keeping my cards are safe :)

Moving from Ireland to India is a bit of a culture shock re. booze.  And for someone who is a fan of fine wines I might as well be living at sea.  I got excited a few weeks ago when in Bangalore I saw a shop sign saying 'More than Wine & Cheese'.  Once I got closer I realised it was a trap and that like all alcohol shops in India it resembled a methadone clinic with the only alcohol being cheap spirits in brown bags.  Apart from in the more cosmopolitan urban areas alcohol is kept out of sight in India.  

Back to my boredom in Kathmandu.  I decided that although I had to stay here at the beck and call of the Indian embassy I could still head off to random places on the bus.  For 20 cents you can hop on a local bus for a few hours to one of many local gems.  My fav so far have been Bhaktapur and Dulikhel.  Travelling alone on the local buses, my favourite question from the locals was "Do you not have any friends?".  Quite the upgrade from the Indian introduction of "Are you married?"

Life gets boring in Kathmandu...

The bus isn't always the best option....

Durbar Square, Bhaktapur

 

If Carlsberg made temples...

Erotic Elephant temple in Bhaktapur.  Do not try this at home.

Owing to this being low season, I found myself as one of a handful of tourists on my trip to Dulikhel.  No-one spoke any English at a restaurant so they summoned a man wearing a suit from an office nearby.  This was the first person I'd seen in Nepal with an iPhone, more importantly he had white socks to go with his pressed suit and shiney shoes.  This gentleman, the town mayor, ended up having lunch with me and showing me around his enchanting village.  A village with some of the best views of the himalayas in Nepal and owing to the monsoon, alot of cloud cover whilst I was there.

I should be out of here in a few days.  Heading to Pokhara for some yoga, trekking and mountain biking. Then, pending landslides, down to Lumbini to see the birthplace of Buddha.  I'm then heading to Thailand for a month of yoga and tantra workshops in Koh Phangan (not the knackersville side of the island....the blissville side).  Happy Dayz.

Prayer Wheels outside Swayambhunath