Return to Pokhara

.

Where to begin?

The place, the project, the people... my week in Jumla was a wonderful and inspiring experience.

I am writing from Pokhara. We returned last night after a long drive from Nepalganj. The eleven hour journey in a private car was absolute luxury compared to the bus we were supposed to get. We had gotten up at 4am to make it to the bus stand at 5. Bags on the roof and seats at the front, we were settled in for the long haul. As is the norm, the bus dillied and dallied, going round the block picking up passengers, the conductor leaning out of the doorway chiming to people on the corner "Pokhara, Pokhara, Pokhara". We went to the main chowk, and then doubled back to the bus stand. And then again, back and forth, the driver and conductor, jumping out at various stages, changing roles and animatedly chatting to people milling in the street, until we eventually came to rest where we started and the engine shut down. This wasn't looking good.

There had been a strike the previous day, but we had been told it was only one day. I guess there were still negotiations going on, and although the conductor assured us that the bus would go at some point, there was no guarantee when that might be. This time, however, it was not a Maoist strike, but the transport union and only affecting that region. So we were stuck, in the dusty bustle of Nepalganj as the oppressive heat of the day began to take its hold - and it was only 6am. We weighed up the options, whilst having chia (tea) and omlettes from a charming stall adjacent to where our bus was parked; a place I had fatefully commented on that morning before we boarded the bus, that it seemed like the sort of place you could sit for hours and watch the world go by. I must watch what I say, I thought, as we sat there wondering what we were going to do. We finally decided to get a private car. Although incredibly expensive in Nepali terms (Rs 12,000 - about £120), it was cheaper than flying to Kathmandu ($92 each) and getting a micro (minivan) to Pokhara. My travelling companions were Archana, the project coordinator for the training and Hasodevi, a nine year old girl who we were bringing back to Pokhara to the children's home that EWN (Empowering Women of Nepal) run. She will live in the home and go to a local school for the next ten years. After seeing her settle in and meet her new family of excited little girls, I set off down the road back to Bishnu Lodge and my little Pokhara family.

More on Hasodevi at some point soon.

Today, I went for my swim in the lake and it was as though I hadn't been away. But I had. Jumla is another world, a taste of Nepal from the past (except for the mobile phones) and an experience that I will never forget.

Which is lucky as I have run out of time now.
.