Pokhara

Pokhara is a little town next to a lake, which makes the base for people wanting to head out to trek in the Annapurna region of the Himalayas. On a clear day you can see the snow covered peaks in the distance. May however, the time I was there, is perhaps not the time of year to come if that is what you’re coming to see. During my week or so in Pokhara the sky was only clear enough on one of the days to be able to see the mountains. It was an extremely beautiful day!

The journey from Kathmandu to Pokhara past through beautiful tree covered mountains, rice fields, banana trees, little villages, rather a lot of marijuana plants, and also a yak being hacked into pieces with it’s head already decapitated and lying a few feet away from it’s body. A good meal for some was probably getting close! I didn’t really remember anything from when I passed through this way before. May be this was at least in part because then it was the middle of winter, where as this time it was well on it’s way towards summer and the rainy season. The one place I did remember, and for some reason in quite a lot of detail, was the block of toilets at the placed we stopped for lunch. I happily took myself off to crouch over the very same squat toilet I’d used five years before. And what a lovely experience it was too.

My first few days in Pokhara were spent with Arjun – a friend I’d made on my journey here last time. He took me to his family home where is mother very kindly made us lots of tasty food. I met their family pets who were a great big angry buffalo and her rather anxious little baby. I did try to politely great them, but the baby was too terrified and if I went within a few feet of them the mother banged her horns so hard against the wooden pole holding up their shelter that had she kept going I’m pretty sure she could have had the whole thing down. I have found buffalos in general to not be the most affectionate of animals. They just plod along staring vacantly ahead showing no interest at all in you unless it’s to get further away. They do seem not to mind their owners though.

After I’d been given buffalo milk in varying stages, from milk produced earlier that day, to milk that was by now cheesy buttery stuff, Arjun’s mum milked the mother buffalo again and gave me some of the fresh milk to try. The first lot of milk she’d given me, although only a few hours old, already tasted a little bit sour. The fresh milk though was absolutely delicious. It was so creamy and really not a lot different to fresh cow’s milk.

We visited some other members of Arjun’s family, who lived in a tiny village just outside of Pokhara. I was taken off to the local temple by a group of children. The temple was locked but the children all touched the step and then their heads, so I did the same, and then they rang the bell hanging above the temple door. I’ve always rather fancied ringing the bell at Hindu temples, but not really knowing the significance of it or whether it’s the sort of thing that’s acceptable to do as a none Hindu, I’ve never done it. This time though all the children wanted me to and so I did.

On another day we visited the Japanese Peace Pagoda – one of many built by the Japanese around the world. It was situated high up on the top of one of the surrounding hills. From the top you could look down over the lake and across Pokhara. It was fun trying to work out where I was staying and other places I knew. Really though we were too high up for me to recognise anything. And whilst Arjun is from Pokhara, the main town and the tourist area where I was staying are really quite different places so he wasn’t able to help me all that much.

Nepal is a place where striking and protesting is something people seem to feel passionately about. Last time I was here the Maoist supporters had the whole place at a stand still as they protested about the government in power at the time. This time around the Maoist party were themselves in power and so those who were against them were now protesting and demanding everyone else to strike too. No vehicles were allowed to be out on the roads and this was mostly fully obeyed (unless their drivers were very brave or very rich) and none of the shops and restaurants were  meant to be open (again unless their owners were very brave or very rich). People who broke the strike and had not pre arranged to do so through some sort of financial agreement, risked having their vehicles and businesses physically destroyed.

As a tourist passing through, the effects of this for me were actually quite nice. I was not in a hurry to leave and so the complete lack of public transport wasn’t an issue. As the streets were empty of vehicles, everyone was out playing ball games and cycling and having fun with their friends. Although the shops and restaurants weren’t really ‘open’, if they had their shutters only half down, you knew they would let you in and so you could still go and eat and drink. A friend I’d made in Sikkim in India was here at the same time as me, so we had a nice few days just relaxing and catching up. She was working in an orphanage, so I spent some time playing with the very sweet children there too.