No Christmas in Chitwan / Hanging on For Dear Life

Thursday, Dec. 11, 9:58PM
Narayanaghad, Nepal
Song: Do You Close Your Eyes, The Smashing Pumpkins

Lazy Pups

Today we went to the big city, and reflecting on it and the general atmosphere around here, it's not December, nor is it Christmas. Most everyone here is Hindu or Buddhist, and in contrast to America, where everyone, regardless of creed, can soft of enjoy Christmas as a holiday, Nobody here does. Not a shred of Christmas to be found. This may sound delightful to some of you! I certainly felt that it might be cool to get away from it. But it's a bit weird. (Gingerbread, boo hoo.)

In other news, we Somehow skipped out on doing farm labour for the last two days. Yesterday after breakfast and laundry we went to do Internet. As my fourth grade Social Studies teacher Mrs. Lawrence would have said, doing internet from a village of a developing country is like taking the slow boat to China. After three hours of click and wait, peppered by a couple outages, we got back at the farm with enough daylight to plant a couple rows of sunflower seeds in our newly weeded garden. Wwoof! (And boy were we tired, from all that internet tedium! Ironically, we really were.) Today, over breakfast we were making plans for tomorrow's Elephant-riding Safari and realized we didn't have the requisite 1500 rupees apiece, so our host Balarm insisted we hop on the next bus to town. An hour later (there's Much waiting when it involves the gypsy bus) we were atop our trusty steed, zig-zagging the long way on country roads ride-em-cowboy-style, 2 hours at least, through every village between Chitwan and Narayanaghad. Our only business was to use the ATM and pick up some sweets. In under an hour we withdrew many rupees, then we waited an hour, and were on our way home with a big box of sweets from a yummmy looking bakery to share with the family tonight at our much-anticipated screening of The Jungle Book. There had to be 75-80 of us in and Atop the tiny metal shuttle (I named her Tetanus) which would have legally carried only 25 people in the US. Actually, Tetanus wouldn't be legal in the US any way you slice it. (Cara has the must-share pic!)

[ Cara's pic: us clinging on top of the rusty barrel-o-monkeys for 2 hours ]

The ride home was freakin' Craaayzee! It took longer, we were a lot less comfortable, bootys ached, as did our clenched-for-dear-life knuckles. Also it was scary to watch for oncoming branches and low-hanging power lines in the thick foggy darkness. (The signal for 'look out' for passengers behind us was "Aggggggggh!") We got home at 7:30, inhaled our warm delicious dal, rice and Soy meat -- Chitwan Ama is a culinary genius -- 8 of us piled into our room for the movie, and we all fell asleep. Oh, the worst was that our yummy sweets got left on top of the bus! (Ahem, wasn't me.) But woe was.

Tomorrow on Safari will make 3 consecutive days of labor-less WWOOFing. (There go the crazy choir of dogs again! They always surprise me with their thunderous preamble.) We all feel really bad that we're not doing much work here. But I honestly just don't think there's much to be done here right now. Today we were going to weed another plot, go to a neighbor's and pick some coffee beans, and set-them up to become sprouts in the nursery-to-be. Depending on how much weeding, it wasn't going to be that big a day anyhow. Well there's always Saturday!

Babe hit it right on the head when he sung La la la, la la la, la la la, la laaaa! Merry Christmas from Nepal! (Imagination required.)
 

To Protect and Serve the Queen

Song: Dew In June, Howie B; I Love You, I Do by I Love You Airlines

(Queen Bee)

We've decided to stay here on the farm for 5 days, which will give us about 2 weeks to bike out to India, taking a road that traces the south edge of the country for 2/3 the length of Nepal. We could choose a closer border crossing into India, (like 1/10 the distance away), but we'd rather travel the long distance towards central India in Nepal where it's cleaner and more stress-free than India.

Today we settled back into farm life, waking up just before tea time, and then Balarm gave us a proper tour of the property. His main field crops this time of year are mustard seed, maiz, and wheat grass, but foremost he's a bee farmer, with about 40-50 hives buzzing full tilt all day. So now, in addition to spiders, flies, beetles and ants, I'm getting used to living in a bee's world. Pradeep showed me the Queen bee in one of the hives, who's job it is to lay eggs, most of whom become her workers. If a new queen is born they kill her, so as not to confuse the bees, who's only focus is serving Her. No matter what bug I find at any turn, I won't hurt or kill it, as it's an integral part of the wild ecosystem which perfectly maintains itself, and which allows me this blissful experience in nature, away from anything resembling a city or a factory farm. This farm, like Surya's, barely has any tools. Nepali goodness!

Today we weeded the front yard so we can plant sunflower seeds tomorrow. Man was it overgrown! And guess what tools we used... that's right, hands. We did some major bushwacking, man! We also had a hoe and a curved blade to help. I so wish we took before and after pics, but we had no idea how much ground we'd cover. We started with a small plot next to the water pump, and before you knew it 5 hours had passed and we did the whole front yard.

(Ho's hard at work.)

As one would expect of farm life, it's chock full of fun with animals. Squatting like a Nepali I watched the three buffalo do there thing (which is Chewing) for 45 minutes. The calf, so pretty and awkward, has a little piggy face (maybe I'm projecting, having watched Babe movies 3 times in 3 weeks) is really shy but let me pet her a little. Bonnie got real close with the neighbor's sheep (letting her play ventriloquist with his mount, no resistance whatsoever), and of course a few cool goats kept us laughing all day. Also quite charming is the choir of countless dogs who howl all night long in these parts. It's nuts. They don't keep me up or freak me out, but boy do they get riled up come bedtime!

Other highlights of the day include identifying fruit trees by tasting their leaves (mmm mango!), riding a random old crappy bike with Cara on the back sidesaddle, chasing Congo the cat all around with my videocam, my outdoor shower (I love it), eating the most amazing Dal in my life (it's like chickpea soup that is served with every meal but never ceases to amaze), the daughters singing to us during dinner, getting my hair braided by the youngin', hearing all about the Nepali funeral (and cremation) Pradeep attended today, reading the Future of Food article in Wired, getting my butt beat by Jamie in Checkers, and watching Shrek 2 with the whole family and neighbors in our tiny room before bed.

That's all the exciting news from Chitwan! And tomorrow, power outages-willing, we'll hit up the internet place so I can tell you all about it! Love and love, Anthony

Climbing Mountains to get to the Lowlands

Climbing Mountains to get to the Lowlands
Monday Dec. 8, 10:07PM
Sucranada, a village near Chitwan, Nepal

Song: "After Class" by Atlas Sound on Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Not Feel

Today we pushed it, 80km (twice the distance we did each of the last two days!) The first 30 or so were hard, up and down rolling hills on a dusty narrow broken mountain road. Then, all of a sudden, it flattened out, like we were on a plateau. It was weird to be biking in Nepal without going either up or down a hill. As the mountains faded into the background behind us, we were cruising fast on level ground, and the vegetation changed radically to more temperate, sprawling forest, and I could imagine THIS to be the home of all the wildlife I've heard about. A saw some monkeys in the road, and only imagined far-off sounds of elephants and tigers. Suddenly we were going trough the very large and kinda dumpy city of Naranghar (Nepal's 2nd largest city to Kathmandu).

Happy Cow, aka Cowface

(The Bhattari family farm guest house. We shared the room on the left.)

We heard the farm was another 10-15km beyond the city.... 40km later down the bumpiest-ass crap country road (I was really cursing) we arrived at the Balarm Bhattarai House, Balarm being the man of the house, Pradeep his son (20) and Pradicha (13) and Pramila (16) his daughters. From what we could tell in the sunset, the farm is beauiful, but as we were exhausted we skipped the tour and hit the showers. After unpacking and dinner we sat around on the stoop of our newly-completed guest quarters and got to know each other. Cara guided us all through some yoga stretches. Pradeep narrated a photo album filled with past guests, Nepali traditional ceremonies, and photos from a Safari we'll go on in the National Park we're actually in right now! If we were here 2 days earlier, we would have attended an Elephant festival in which they play elephant polo! And we got the low-down on some of the national dress (and those cool caps that the men wear). Many guests in the guestbook were sporting traditional Nepali dress... wonder if we'll be around for any special occasions!

They also have a tiny cat named Conga, who looks just like the one from last night in the classroom. We actually saw a few more cats today, and I'm going to make a generalization that they all look pretty much the same: light-colored, tiny and skinny, with large ears. I would never have guessed Conga was a mother 3 times over. Anyway I'm happy to have a kitty around.

I can already tell, this family is so cool. It's ridiculous and hard to get over that we can just travel around, help out a bit, but basically be treated as family and get shown around. It's just so... foreign! I mean the concept of being so friendly to strangers. People rule. I never thought traveling could be so easy, at least in regards to feeling welcome, and safe, and so well looked-after. It's truly an inspiration on how I want to live my life, not as a guest but as a host. Well both, as you can't have one without the other! I want to be more open, and learn not to distrust every stranger I meet... that's bad culture! Brotherhood of all (wo)men! Hey, where'd that soap box come from?

Anyway I'm super-duper beat, but psyched that we might get on the internet tomorrow so I can finish uploading some of these pictures! Or at least I'll try. Love from Chitwan, Anthony

We part ways with heavy hearts

(last night's sunset)

Song: In a beautiful place out in the country (Boards of Canada)

Sad! Our last night at the farm. We all really love it here, and as every signatory in the guest book can attest to from the years the Adikari's have had their open home/farm, this place feels like a home you never want to leave. And for that reason we have repeatedly extended our stay form 3 nights to over a week. Tonight I was the bad guy, because folks were talking about staying another night (again, 5th night in a row) and I said "No, let's just get on with it!" I'm probably the biggest wuss of the group when it comes to long-distance biking, but I've been mentally preparing for the long haul and I just want to start already. (Do I sound defensive?)

Really, though, this place rules. If anyone wants to volunteer on a farm and get to know Nepali people, I'd definitely recommend it here. My cohorts only went to one farm before I arrived, and on that farm they didn't even have to work (that farm was a big machine with day laborers, albeit an organic one). This place is the real deal, and I think everyone wanted to stay because, for the first time on the whole trip, it's the all-around most pleasant, beautiful, stress-free, friendly, warm, communal, open and loving environment we've found. Plus, there are tigers! Today's breaking news over morning tea was that last night a small tiger killed two goats down the road, and the store by the school house got robbed for 6000 rupees by some punk kids! And I thought all Nepali's were so sweet! The Adikari's are appalled at kids these days. (FYI, 6k rupees is about $80, but that's a lot of dough around here.)

The Adikari House is also a focal point of the region's farming community, as it's the "Pulping Center" and growers and harvesters from all over the mountain bring their coffee beans here for weighing and processing. (Surya sells all the beans on behalf of the whole mountain to Everest Coffee, who brings them to market in Japan.) Throughout the day farmers drop off their daily harvest, or sometimes it's their children passing through on their way to school (which is just up the road). It's been really nice to become part of the community instead of passers-through, as many neighbors and people in the neighborhood see us every day, and we all interface with them regularly. The kids jump on and hang all over us like family, too. Yesterday , Cara got a makeover by the girls next door. Today, we washed our clothes and hair with Bimela, the neighbor's 11-year old daughter. Today, after tuning up my bike, I took a ride down the street (with a 4-year old on sitting on my back rack). Not to mention the 11 guests who are currently staying here at the house with a common interest and widespread origins -- our great web of purpose is expanded and fortified.

Tomorrow at 9am, with our 4 bikes and 20 bags, we will board the decorated bus that comes down our road once a day, so we don't kill ourselves getting off this mountain. (Yesterday my crazy friends took a bike ride a short ways down the mountain, without luggage -- I passed without hesitation -- and all 3 fell off and suffered minor injuries due to the untamed terrain.) I have a feeling we will be riding on top of the bus, which is exciting! I've heard nothing but Fun! (On a safety note, and I know this sounds terrible, but in the event of an accident, like falling off a cliff, which is always a concern when riding these mountain-traversing third-world buses, at least we can jump off instead of tumbling down trapped like sardines.) Our morning descent will only be a short trip, 30 minutes to the bottom, and it'll be slow-going. Also, if you're reading this, I made it OK!, (as I'm typing all this stuff from the least 8 days offline, posted from the safety somewhere in wild beautiful Nepal.) Next stop, after maybe 3 days of biking, is Royal Chitwan National Park! (where all the postcards of huge Bengali tigers and doing it originate.) As we say maybe a hundred times a day and night, Namaste!

Or for a good old fashioned good night: Subayatri!

Things I love about farm life in Nepal (in no particular order):

/ > Hands. All I can say is hands. Magic hands do it all - harvesting juicy red coffee beans one by one, pulling coffee tree branches down low to get high-up beans, removing thousands of fermenting rinds off of harder-to-peel beans, scooping wet slimy beans into buckets, carrying buckets down to the water source, scooping water out of the well, washing each half bucket of beans ten times and stirring them clean (of course, with your hands), spreading a sea of coffee beans out to dry, and piling mounds of them up for safe keeping again at night, climbing trees, weeding gardens, washing dishes, pots, cups, sweeping the dirt ground, washing buckets out for their next use (and they have many), scrubbing and rinsing clothes, getting peas and lentils out of their pods, squeezing hundreds of lemons, peeling oranges, feeding the orange rinds to the momma goat, milking the buffalo, picking radishes. Washing your hands. If you're Nepali, eating your food (without utensils.) Today Chris came back from a day trip to Pokhara with a rake for Surya. Can this possibly change everything? (I doubt it.)

/ > Carrying stuff on your back (or head). There's no fancy machines or conveyor belts or trucks or tractors or elevators or pulleys moving things up and down the hills. There are women and Americans loading up buckets and jugs and carrying them in baskets on our backs, held up by a rope with a headband on the front to secure with your forehead.

/ > Tea time (twice a day).

/ > Nap time (if I need it or have time to kill.)

/ > There's only ONE farm tool in this whole place that uses electricity: the de-pulper. I'm not sure if that's the name or just what I imagined it was called. It takes the rind off the coffee beans. That's the one thing I'm glad we have, or de-pulping would take a looong time. There's aren't even hand-crank devices. Weeding is done with a curved blade. A man comes down the street plucking his single string on the cotton weaving device he carries that looks like a musical instrument, advertising his service -- spinning cotton. The day before we got here they got a rice cooker. Besides light bulbs not much else requires electricity. That's especially good because there isn't electricity for 1/2 the day anyhow. When we need to charge our cameras and computers Surya just unplugs his flat screen and wi-fi router... just kidding.

(foreground: a pile of whole coffee; midground: the coffee de-pulping machine)

/ > Star-gazing, at least for a little while every night. And sunsets -- a great time to take a walk.

/ > Spiders and their webs. In Pokhara, while we were waiting for our Thanksgiving tempura to be served, we were standing up in our shoe-less booth to watch the spiders weaving their webs in the paper lamp above the table. Each of the four tassels hanging from the corners formed a curved-in spine for a big web, each with a nail-sized spider sitting in the middle. Our waiter asked if we enjoyed watching the spiders "making their home". Yes, we did very much. And I especially enjoy that the spiders are at home, in just about every room in Nepal that I've been in, going about their lives, living together with their mountain people. They come in all sizes, and I wouldn't dream of killing them or disturbing their homes (unless they're blocking a nice cluster of juicy red coffee beans during harvest.)

My bedfellow

/ > The bee box in our bedroom above the buffalo. Midday, while we're out doing our chores, hundreds of bees are flying in and out of their bee home in our window. There's another one right in front of 'the library', or shared bookshelf in the hallway in front of everyone else's rooms. I'm not worried at all about them, and I doubt they think much of me.

/ > Cows in the street. Just munching away, or drinking from a puddle by one of the watering holes. Some have hilarious voices, like the baby calf who sounds half frog, and crack me up.

/ > School children everywhere, especially around 3PM. The other day I was carrying baskets with my head and I passed by a couple dozen of them. Some boys say "Hello!" like little parrots and others laugh at my uncharacteristic role of a white boy with french braids and two flowers in his hair doing the women's work, and when you make eye contact with the girls they press their hands together saying "Namaste", then turn away giggling like, well, school girls.

The baby goats. I already wrote about them, but they're just like Kids! (bu dum bom ba!) So playful, excitedly scrambling and hopping around with all four legs at once, loving to jump on each other and you! If you bend down, they'll jump on your back. Or your lap. And eat your hair. At three weeks old they still only drink from Maa, but they seize those nipples with ferocity (to get the milk flowing again) and the boy is already trying to mount the girl one. Supposedly he's been doing it since 10 days old! They're a riot. Today while we were peeling beans they were jumping on everyones backs so Ama put a backet over them with a rock on top. They just went to sleep. And Bonnie had one in her arms, and with his legs all folded like origami he fell right asleep, out cold! Ama thought he was dead, and was sticking her finger in its mouth to see if he'd suckle. Nope! So funny! Kids!

/ > Dal Bhat (translated Lentils & Rice). Usually accompanied by a vegetable curry (right now it's the seasonal potatoes and cauliflower,) and another season vegetable (like stewed greens or a little chutney and pickle). It's our two meals a day, and the two meals of pretty much every Nepali person. Ama changes it up just a little every day. Yesterday Ama made Roti, flat bread. The night before, pigeon peas in the curry! Today, Chris brought us each a samosa from Pokhara! Today's stewed greens tasted more delicious than ever, as she let me watch her cook them, and I could taste the garden tomatoes I never knew were in there, and the onion, and mustard oil.

(Dhal bhat)

/ > Listening to my iPod before bed while writing in my journal, listening to an Out Hud song named "Dear Mr. Bush, There are Over 100 Words for Shit and Only 1 for Music. Fuck you, Out Hud". It's two beautiful worlds coming together, East and West. Is my real home back East, or back West? I feel at home here too. I love missing all the things I love about life in NY. Like ice cream and soy milk, tacos, avocados, and un-chicken patties. And my whole entire family. And my darling friends and special lady. And my precious spoiled and handsome turtle! And the Holidays. We were talking about making ginger bread houses today and I got a warm tingle in my heart. I've never been without the Holidays before! Twinkle lights, christmas specials, egg nog, decorations, the family tree chop, bloody marys and horseradish dip! It's so wonderful to miss it all, because the emotion is all positive, I can appreciate it unadulterated, and it will be even sweeter next time!

Wow, midnight already! And I'm getting up to watch the sun rise over the southern ridge of the Annapuras this morning! Baaaaaaaaah!

Baboo still going strong.

Yesterday I was a little out of it, my appetite small and my body (and especially my back) fatigued from the last couple days of pushing it (the bikes up the mountain, and from Day 1 of farm labor.) Surya and Ama were a both a bit concerned about me, but sometimes you just need a day to recuperate, and they understood. I took a nap mid-afternoon and spent numerous parts of the day lying on my back. Today I felt 100% again and had a blast. Even washing the beans was fun. This chore involves carrying buckets of slimy, semi-fermented beans Nepali-style on our backs to the well (on foot, down and up a hill, using baskets supported by your head) to be washed. I was dreading doing this again, as my first day I had tired back and legs. It's brilliant that the chores rotate from day to day, keeping things interesting and giving your body a break. But I definitely do like the hard work, and pushing myself. Like with the biking, it's a beautiful thing to find peace in potentially grueling work, by just accepting it, letting-go of any negative thoughts, and thinking nice things.

After washing the beans and tea time, all of us 'guests' took a walk to hang out by the big tree on the hill. We hung out and climbed the tree for a long while, while the light changed form daytime to dusk, then came home for dinner. After our meal a ghost seized us! It came out from the dark bushes a screaming, lunging specter covered in straw, with a gas mask and gargantuan radish penis. In a creepy voice it asked for food and he also said "give me pen", a joke as all the kids in these parts ask you for a pen (because it's easy to say). I found out later that the ghost was none other than our friend Gary, acting out an elaborate idea thought up by the women juicing lemons this afternoon. Ama had been feeling sick for the last few days and was walking with Gary down the road when a man felt her pulse and told her that she'd be well off making a food offering. Whether of not the show did the trick, it was hilarious, so moving, in-fact, that Cara peed herself! LOL.

One more day here at Surya Presad Adikari House will make five, and then we are bound for Royal Chitwan. It's gonna be a lot of biking from here on out, with a week or two in-between to enjoy the sights of Agra, Rajasthan, and who knows where else our Indian friends will take us on our Jeep journey to Goa. Funny, though, with all the biking we're still looking at another whole month in Nepal before we even set foot in crazy India.

I can't believe how fast time is going-by. Happy December, everyone!

Baboo reporting from Surya Presad Adikari Farm.

This is Baboo, your Nepalese farmer correspondent! (aka Anthony) It is now our third night on the farm, and the women we all call Ama (or Mom) are now calling me Baboo, which means boy. But when they say it, I feel like family. Back to the family in a moment.

Getting here was crazy. We enjoyed a nice, mostly downhill bike ride out of Pokharato Begnas lake about 10km away. The next 12km was HELL. Granted, it was so awesomely beautiful, but damn, just the first uphill alone had me and Jamey stopping 3 times to get up it (and he doesn't stop), it was hot, Cara was feeling dizzy... we went up up up up up like this for a while, all around the mountain, and then it became a dirt and gravel and rock road -- so hard to bike up, let alone at the steepest incline we've seen yet. My odometer only counts time when you're actually moving, and by the end of our 7 hour ride we'd only been moving for 2 hours and 20 minutes. We had stop stop about every 30 seconds of 'riding'/(falling). I'm not sure if it was the best or worst part, but every person we asked about the farm told us it was 30 minutes, or 20 minutes, or 2 hours, or 1 hour... it just kept changing, so we never knew how far away it was. I've come to understand after 2 weeks here that people's sense of time and distance is terrible, so it's best to just plan on things taking 3x longer than best case.

But was truly beautiful country. I need to remind myself to savor the landscape, because from what I gather Nepal is so much prettier than India, so you take the good (views) with the bad (hills) and appreciate the accomplishment that hardcore biking to hard-to-reach places brings. We saw flocks of cows, goats and sheep, met some really nice dogs, I saw my third cat (they're so few), and *best* of all kids accompanied us for the last 5km or so, which was the slowest-going, hardest and steepest part. We were hurting, and sometimes they helped push us, but more so they kinda bothered [me at least], ceaselessly asking for a pen or a shirt or sweets or some money. It wasn't without it's laughs and cute stuff, but yeah, kids. They like squeezing our brakes, and one girl kept unzipping our bags. And of course it was impossible to shake them, until, when they were 'helping' Jamey up the hill they steered him into a wall.

Alas, after the whole day literally pushing our bikes up a mountain, we arrived at the Surya Presad Adikari House, a family-run coffee farm. And boy was it worth it. (Yes, Jamey, despite all my bitching, it was totally worth it.) The home is made of earth, meaning it's basically packed dirt, some of it's painted over (like the walls), but they keep it clean. Surya and Serivasti (Ama), the heads of the farm and household, are warm and caring hosts. They already had a full house of 6 volunteers: Gary Field, an early 40's Aussie who has been living in India for the last 3 years; Chris and Maha, another mature Aussie and his Pakistani wife; Xavier, the 22yr old French Geography student with Krishna ponytail (I still need to ask about that); Colin and Chach, 25 and 27 west coasters (SF, Portland). With the addition of the 4 of us, it became an especially full house, 12 in residence and another 2-3 women who work here daily. The dynamic is superb, and we all get along well and have plenty of time to share and learn from each other.

Since the moment we arrived, everyone has treated us like family. It's a pleasure to work in exchange for a great place to learn, first-hand, a bit more about what Nepali life is like, to be graciously included in all aspects of this home, as well as the in-depth coffee education. From the first night, I felt comfortable taking my shoes off and climbing into the small kitchen which was already full of 7 or so people, to sit and keep warm by the wood burning earth stove, and chat while Ama cooks dinner. We don't have to get up too early, and instead of being told what to do we just kind of jump in and help, be it taking the husks off the coffee beans, spreading them out to dry, running around the steep hillside jungle picking beans (and oranges), weeding, carrying buckets of beans down to the well to be washed... it never feels like we're being worked too hard, there are plenty of breaks for tea or coffee, or to play with the baby goats. They are so funny! At 3 weeks old they are so playful and the hop around and love to jump on our backs. Today, we did a human and goat pyramid, with Surya and Ama on the 2nd-to-top tier, and the 2 baby goats on top! It's so relaxed and fun and awesome. It's one thing to bike ride past all these farms, but it's so great to live here at one and see how it works, how the people do things the way they've done it for decades (and probably centuries), unaffected by the industrial revolution. Also it's pesticide-free, everything we are eating is grown here on the farm -- even the buffalo's milk in my coffee!

I've always wondered what it would be like to farm, get my hands really dirty, live a different life. It's blissful. And so is the star-gazing! Except for a few dots of light in the hillside, it's completely dark at night, and way up and out here it's not polluted at all. I think we all really love it, and so we've asked if we can stay a couple more nights. Plotting out the rest of the month, we're opting to skip the farm east of Kathmandu (even though it sounds amazing), and instead we'll be biking to Chitwan National Reserve (where we'll see tigers and elephants and work on another farm,) before we bike 500km all the way along the south of Nepal before the end of the year. We're meeting up with our Indian friends near the Indian/Nepali border, who will drive us in a Jeep to a bunch of sites and all the way to Goa, where we'll begin our 4-6 week bike journey down to Karala. We're doing the 500km in Nepal opposed to India as it'll be relatively flat, Nepal is prettier, and from the group's first month experience, it's so much more relaxed here in Nepal. India is a love/hate experience for practically everyone I've ever spoke to about it, but Nepal is just love/love. It's 8PM, and it's time for B-E-D!

Signing off, your Baboo.