Pokhara: Day 1

We had a few days of downtime last week when the PAHS students were writing their Haemopoetic Block exams so Mike, Kiley and I decided to go to Pokhara for 3 days. We had heard many great things about this sub-metropolis from students who are from Pokhara, from friends of ours who had travelled there, and from Bishnu, a colleague and friend of our HealthTrek Nepal mentor Carol-Ann Didi, so it was a natural choice for our mini-vacation.  

Pokhara is about 90 miles from Kathmandu, as the crow flies, and there are two ways of getting there: a 25 minute flight or a 6 hour bus ride. We opted for the former, and chose Buddha Airlines as our chariot over the breathtaking mountains of Nepal. As we waited to board in Kathmandu, Mike (he’s given me consent to tell you, and will blog about this later!) developed a serious bout of gastroenteritis. Needless to say we were all a bit on edge until we arrived safely at our hotel, the Fishtail Lodge. At that point, the Kiley and I were able to procure some ciprofloxacin and oral rehydration salts, and Mike started feeling better within hours.

The Fishtail Lodge is located on Lake Phewa, the second largest lake in Nepal. To get to the Lodge, you have to cross the lake on the Nepali version of a Seabus. To a Vancouverite, the Seabus is a large, motorized ferry that sails between downtown and the North Shore, across the Burrard Inlet. To a Nepali, the Seabus consists of planks of wood nailed together and secured to large floating former oil barrels, covered by a sheet metal roof for the rainy season. It is powered by a person who physically pulls the boat across the lake, back and forth, for 24 hours a day. Perhaps it wouldn’t be feasible in Vancouver, but I enjoyed the latter because it was more serene and more environmentally friendly.  

                        

I spent the first day walking around Lakeside, a somewhat touristy, somewhat “hippy” part of town, filled with artisan shops and charming cafes, all amidst the thick smell of Nag Champa incense and the snow-peaked Annapurna Mountains. If you know me at all, I bet you could guess that I loved it! I wandered down the street to warm shouts of “Namaste!” (the beautiful Nepali greeting which means “The light in me honours the light in you”) from merchants and other passersby, and sometimes even the endearing but clearly untrue (given my sweaty, post-travelling appearance) “Kumari!” (goddess) from the occasional over-zealous vendor.

Since we got to Nepal, I’ve had my sights on the colourful saris worn by many of the women. So it is no surprise that I was lured into a sari shop when rich reds and dazzling purples caught my eye. I picked out 3 or 4 potentials and asked the seamstress if I could try them on. Though she didn’t speak much English and I speak almost no Nepali (yet!), she motioned to one of her 3 daughters in the shop to take me to the changing room. I followed her through a narrow, cinder-block corridor to a room that turns out wasn’t a changing room at all, but a 12’ x 12’ space outfitted with two beds, a hot plate, some clothing, a TV and some dishes. This was where the family of 6 lived. (I learned later from a Nepali man I met that rent is so high along Lakeside that people opt to live in their stores.) When I entered, a man who must’ve been the seamstress’s husband scooped up their young son and scurried out the back door, as their daughter drew the shades and left me alone. 2 of the saris fit perfectly, as if they were made for me. In Nepal it is common, and expected, to barter when you’re buying something, so the seamstress and I haggled a bit, smiling the whole time. For $5500 Nepalese Rupees (about $75 USD), I became the proud owner of a gold sari with crimson flowers and a blue one with hunter green and silver embroidery.

I carried on down the street, dodging cows and stray dogs, until I got to a grassy field near the lake. There was so much going on around me – teenagers playing soccer, children swimming in the lake, tourists chattering excitedly about the sights, construction workers building houses – but I had the most peaceful sit down as the sun lowered to the horizon…