There are some easy ways to find post about my trip to Asia. At the bottom of this page are links to the most commented articles, and on the side bar there are links to different categories. Click on a country to see all the posts from that country.

I am currently in Alaska, working for CouchSurfing.com and will be here for the rest of the summer! Enjoy looking around the blog!

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You won the book. Congratulations. You can thank Excel and its =RAND()*100 function. I haven’t actually put it all together yet, as the final photo count hovers around 6,500 and it takes some pairing down, but it will be done in the near future.

For everyone else, they will be on sale soon should you want to actually purchase one. (more details when it is done)

Here is my challenge to you: For the next few days, keep a tally of every NEW person you share a moment with – be it a meal, a conversation in line, a ride, a room, a bed, whatever. Just the people you actually get to know a little bit about. Not the person who stares at their shoes in the elevator while you both stick iPods in your ears and pretend you are actually alone inside of a mirrored moving cube. Keep track of every new person you would now consider to be an acquaintance.

Post your findings here after a day or so, and I will do the same. I think it will be interesting to see how location, job and habits contribute to a person’s sphere of influence.

I will try to post pictures if i can get them. Otherwise look here to see a few: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rovinglight/422717101/

Up early the next morning, I showered until the hot water woke me up, then threw the last of my things in to my 45 liter bag, trying to sort through what was clean and dirty as if it mattered. The bag, which used to be a white and green Sierra Highland Bag, is now a semi brown / gray semblance of something once in much better shape when I bought it from REI clearance in 2005. The internal frame, which started off as a curved, ergonomically correct, flat metal support beam, is now a wooden dowel. The outer clips which hold ski or hiking poles are ripped off. The internal backing is coming undone, and the padding is all gone from the straps.

Still, it is holding up remarkably well considering what I have put it through over the years. I slung it over my back once more, fastening the waist strap around and pulling it tight. I picked up my fake NorthFace backpack and put it on backwards, as if I was carrying a child in front of me. Standard backpacker style. I am actually able to carry quite a bit of stuff this way, even if I wish I didn’t have to. At this point I am carrying around gifts from all over, and an assortment of random trinkets and things I have picked up along the way. Chopsticks from Vietnam, silk scarves from the local families in Nepal, a broken digital camera from Thailand, and a hammock that I used to sleep on the beach in Mue Ne and am planning on using at the beaches in the next week. I also had a shoulder bag I purchased just to hold some of this stuff. It is neon orange, made of a rubberized plastic, and waterproof. Great for rock climbing gear back home.

I walked outside – looking like some awkwardly balanced turtle carrying its home on its back, and started the trudge to find a taxi. I still had not seen anyone awake. The volunteer house is not right in the center of things, but it is pretty close. I flagged a guy down and worked out the price for the taxi. Since gas (sorry, PETROL for the rest of the world) is expensive here the prices are a little inflated.

I was unprepared for what I saw at the airport. Let me preface this with a very short explanation of the current political situation in Nepal: NOT GOOD.

There are general elections coming up on the 10^th, and the country is shut down from today (April 7^th) to April 12^th, when the ballots will have been counted. People are returning home to their birth places to vote, and there is a notable attitude of tension. The opposing party, the Maoists, have essentially said that they refuse to lose this election, and yesterday they injured 70 people, killed 12, and kidnapped one of the main party (NC – Nepali Congress) candidates. Two bombs were set off in the city, but they were considered minor by recent standards. 500 Maoists surrounded a section of houses where candidates lived and attempted to set them on fire. A week ago, riots caused the destruction of a police building by arson. There are routine police check points everywhere, and rumors that all road transportation is going to be shut down to curb roadside attacks. Rumors are also floating around the closing of borders to India. Today might have been the last day I could have left Nepal, I just didn’t know it.

The airport was a mad house. It is small, very small. I remember going to Peachtree Dekalb airport with my dad when I was a kid and watching the planes take off and land there. Just little local planes, flying from Atlanta to Athens, or Alabama. This international airport was like that, except it had been quickly, cheaply, and completely without thought to aesthetics, been turned into Nepal’s gateway to the rest of the world. People of all nationalities were leaving the country. Many westerners who were hoping to avoid the potential fallout from the election, Nepalies who had enough money to leave for a while, and resident Asians of other nationalities were headed back to India, Thailand, China, and all other destinations. I saw a few people who were obviously getting on an escalator for the first time in their lives. The hesitant stumble step before they regain their balance on the moving steps gave it away, and the look of awe as they are carried up to the next level of the building. People leaving a country is normal, but to have so many people crowded around, frantic to make sure they made one of the few flights out was nerve racking. The atmosphere was not one of expectant travelers anxious about arriving at their next destination, it was a palpable “Get me the hell out of here before the shit hits the fan.”

There is only one terminal, and there are only two lines to get to it. One for women, and one for men. I saw very few women. After passing through the security gate I was subjected to my third full body pat down since entering the airport. Put your hands out to the side, spread your feet, and explain every lump, bump, and package in your pockets. Sometimes they waved me through because I was a foreigner, sometimes not.

Sexually Segregated Lines (The one on the right which is empty, is for women)
I am currently on the plane, half way to Bangkok, and I can’t help but think – What if I was still there? Could I leave? Would I leave? Part of me wants to stay and photograph what is about to happen, for better or for worse. To write about it, explain to the rest of the world how this country of 17 million could collapse into civil war in the next week if things go just wrong enough. Families are divided on who they want to win. Many say let the Maoists win, so the violence will stop. What state is a country in when that becomes justification for electing a government? Elect the ones causing the problem so they will stop causing it? Maoists base their governing philosophy on that of Mao Zedong. His methods were shown to falter then, and have little, if any bearing on an emerging economic society now. Granted, the Maoist politicians have promised full reform in the next 10 years, but what are the chances they stay in power that long? I think they will quickly realize that running a country isn’t as exciting as taking it over, and all the 15 to 18-year-olds who are the main force behind the party will slowly disappear back into the hills.

Technorati Tags: Nepal,Maoists,political unrest,violence

On Saturday when Grant and Brandon flew back to Bangkok, the rest of the group went across town to paint a room and a playground, but I stayed around the house to work on some web stuff while I had an open internet connection.

On Saturday night David, a Polish Couchsurfer whose name I failed to remember, and myself took Arjun and his family out to dinner. His two cousins, who are both about 22 and pretty cute, came with us. One of the girls is studying English in school, but didn’t let on how much she could understand until halfway through dinner. We had told them to choose any restaurant they wanted, as long as we did not have dal baht. They choose Indian food, so we went to Zaickas which has been my default restaurant of choice since Tommy and Chris introduced me to it. It is cheap, good, and fast. We ordered a tableful of food. So much that we didn’t room for all the plates and dishes and bowls of curry and naan. We gorged ourselves for the better part of two hours. Seven people with momo appetizers, tandori chicken, keema nan –which are like really good soft tacos that you dip in cheesy curry – spring rolls, fried rice, and sodas. Total bill: about $18 USD.

I said farewell to Arjun’s family, knowing I would see him again when I went back to work on his site the next day.

The next day turned out to be one of the best in Kathmandu. We had eight or nine of the kids from one of the volunteer homes over to have them make prayer flags. These children had a blast, and so did we. Sadly, I have to admit that my drawing skills are miserable. On a computer, great, fine, I can do what I want to. On construction paper with markers and Crayola knockoffs, I pale in comparison to even a seven-year-old. They stayed for a few hours then left, and we went into Thamel, the tourist section, to get some shopping done. I needed some gear and Jesi needed a water bottle. We had dinner at the house, and I left to help Arjun for the last time in person. I didn’t get as much done as I had hoped, but I will be able to upload everything from Bangkok with a good Internet connection.

After some initial confusion about payment, we were sat down and given a small presentation on how if we did anything wrong we would either become unable to reproduce, or we would face mortal peril. All five of us ended up in the same weight category (70kg to 100kg – I weigh in at just over 75kg, which I never knew) so we were all on the bridge together. This means no photos from jump one. I did the bungee jump, which was a lot of fun, and an incredible rush.

They asked us if we wanted to do a second jump for much cheaper, and we said sure, so three of us signed up to do the canyon swing. This is a 160 meter drop followed by a 180 km/h swing for a few seconds. I talked the guy into letting me hook in at the back so I could swing like super man. This was essentially a base jump with a cord instead of a parachute. When I jumped off, the cord hit my leg, and I freaked out in mid air, flailing around like a spasmatic animal. We got video of that, so check it out when I am finally able to upload it. The bungee was form perfect, and looked graceful, but they wanted $35 for the video of it, which isn’t cool.

The house has wi-fi and is truly amazing. Five floors, two hang out rooms and a kitchen, a two level roof balcony, and a ton of books and movies.  I am in heaven. I have been spending my days helping Arjun with his site and getting some stuff taken care of online.

We left the museum and found our way to some caves that were in the area. The first one had a power strip with lights running down the middle of it, but they were all broken and we used our flashlights. At the entrance, we were met by a gang of five children whose hands began to find their way into our pockets when we left the light outside and entered the darkness. The Australian quite forcefully lifted one of them into the wall with his elbow, and they stopped trying to pick pocket us, but they still begged for money. I eventually gave them a total of five rupees to get them to piss off, but they still followed us around.

We left this cave area and walked about half a kilometer to the next one, where there were supposed to be bats. Bats there were. Thousands of them. We crawled through the cave for about 45 minutes before attempting to head to a temple. We got separated in traffic and I never saw him again. I found what I thought was the road to the temple, and got lost in the back roads of Nepal. I soon gave up on finding the temple and decided to just see how far the roads would take me into the farmland. I soon had to give up because the roads deteriorated into ruddy pot holes that the Bajaj cruiser wasn’t meant to take.

I spent that night in Pokara, then said goodbye to the Germans before driving south along the most twisty road I have ever seen. I was headed to Lumbini, the birth place of Buddha. Getting there was an adventure. The road was small, and on the map looked to be a pretty direct shot all the way down. 160 km it said. In reality the road doubled back on itself, spun around the mountain and down through valleys, crossing streams on old bridges where signs read: Warning, bridge damaged. One vehicle at a time. Makes you feel safe. The views were stunning as I have never seen a region like this. The mountains come up out of nowhere, and continue to rise until you have to strain your neck to see the tops.

The most challenging aspect of this part of the trip was simply focusing on the driving. This is not the relaxing cruising that I am used to. Here, going 80km an hour is a death wish. Very often, like every 20 minutes, I would come around a curve and find that the road was gone. Just gone. Landslides happen all the time, and they just clear the road off the side of the mountain. I would slowly make my way across these slides, picking out paths worn by trucks or other bikers. The thing was, every time I came around a curve, I was just as likely to find a cow, duck, child, truck, dog or a pothole the size of a VW bus as I was to find usable road. I quickly started taking turns very slowly.

I finally made it to Lumbini, and for the first time in a long time, checked into a Lonely Planet recommended guest house. There were only four in this “town” of a few hundred people, and three of them are mentioned in Lonely Planet. I was stressed, worn out, but extremely happy to be there. The last part of the ride had been brilliant because the terrain transformed from the mountains to the plains. I was able to drive in one direction for hours, just looking at the animals grazing in the fields and the crops growing beside me. Lumbini is about 15 kilometers from India, and I seriously considered illegally hopping the border for a night, but was talked out of it by the off chance I wouldn’t be able to get back in due to the border patrols. The approach reminded me of the ride into Hilton Head Island, SC. It was lined with trees on both sides, and they had vines and/or moss hanging down from them.

That night I borrowed a bicycle from the guy who ran the guest house and toured the Lumbini Development Area for a little while. This area is a walled in part of land that extends for miles around the actual site of Buddha’s birth. It has been developed by the Japanese Buddhists and is pretty incredible in terms of scale. There are maybe 15 meditation centers and monasteries rising above the skyline, and a giant pagoda at one end of this rectangle. It was a very peaceful place to be at sunset and in that time when the light is fading and the day winds down. After the stress of the motorcycle ride that day, I enjoyed the languid pace of the bicycle. I didn’t see any other westerners in this area, other than one guy I bumped into at the guest house. I had a simple dinner of fried rice, and went to bed early.

I have been waking up at obnoxious hours because I have been going to bed so early. 5:45 – 6:30 is not unusual. After waiting for the guesthouse guy to wake up, I had some breakfast and rented a bike again to see the actual site where Buddha was born. It is surrounded by trees with prayer flags, and ruins from buildings created in 300 B.C. I don’t think I have ever seen anything so old. The morning passed quickly, just me on the bicycle exploring this area.

I was going to stay the night again, but saw all I needed to, and set off for Chitwan National Park. It was an easy ride, and I was there by 1:00pm. In this country, there are so few paved highways, that if you find one heading the way you want to go, it means you are on the right road, since there is only one in the region. This one was flat, but passed through interesting forests and fields, with a good little mountain pass in the middle to break up the ride.

I got to Chitwan, and instead of finding a place to stay, I walked around till I found a good group of people, struck up a conversation, and ended up staying at the same place they were. One was American, two were Canadian, and the others were from Germany and England. The seven of them had been in Tibet when all hell broke loose, and they were stuck together in a hostel there for two and a half days. They have been traveling together ever since. One of them, a guy named Ken, had one of the photos he took on the front page of the New York Times, because they were the only people who were able to get photos out the day it occurred.

I hit it off with them (two of the guys were spending a few months goofing off before law school), and we spent the afternoon planning out our trek for the next day. We decided on a two day, one night trek in the jungle to try to see some rhinos, tigers and whatnot. We canoed down the river, past crocs and birds, before pulling up on the shore in the middle of nowhere. The trekking turned out to be walking along jeep trails for the most part, staying very quite and hoping to see wildlife. The forest was burning, apparently it is a yearly event , and this was actually very cool to experience. We would crest a hill and see the flames licking across the path ahead of us. This would force us to head off into the brush to get around it, and we ended up seeing a rhino and bear who were moving slowly away from the flames. Some wild boars as well.

After a time, the walking became monotonous as we were passed by a few jeeps who scared the wildlife away. It was not my idea of fun. I made it about 15 kilometers before I gave up and paid some guys on a Jeep to take me back. This group was all Nepalis, and they were drinking beer and having their own little party on the back of the jeep. Totally different atmosphere than the silence out guides had tried to impose, but I actually saw more wildlife in my two hours with the jeep than I did in the seven I spent walking. All told I saw three rhinos, a bear, some bison, a jungle cat (like a small puma), some magnificent stags, and a lot of birds and crocs.

When I got back to camp, I ran into two of the German girls who I had met in Pokara, and we spent the evening hanging out and eating dinner. I had a better time this time because we were all speaking English, and it made my life easier.

The next morning I checked out, and came back to Kathmandu, where I stopped by Arjun’s house on the way in. I met up with a guy from South Africa who is staying with him, and also a guy from Germany. We spent the night relaxing and watching the movie “Into the Wild”. Creepy how much I identified with the movie. I had read the book a long time ago, but the move was much more dramatic, and it gave Chris (the main character) a mush more personified role. I have applied to Couch Surfing to work for the collective in Alaska this summer, and if it happens, will be really setting off.

I have a week here, and will help finish Arjun’s site before I go bungee jumping and head out back to Thailand.

I took the Privati Highway from Kathmandu to Pokara, which is 225 km. I split the trip up and went to a town called Gorka, the home of the last first Shah, and rode up to the temple there. When I got to the top, they took my camera and wanted my shoes because they have (may) leather on them, and this was a Hindu holy site. The ground was covered in the feathers and blood stains from the animals they sacrifice there, so I showed them my shoes and convinced them that the leather was fake. I have no idea if it is real suede or not.

I spent the night there, goofing off with the 11-year-old who worked in the guest house and the guy who runs it. The 11-year-old went through all my stuff, enthralled with everything, and even offered me his life savings, about 400 rupees (USD $7) for my iPod. I said no, and he was upset, but he settled for a ride around town on the back of my motorcycle, yelling to all his friends he saw. The owner and I spent the night playing chess and discussing Nepali politics. Nepali politics are screwed to say the least. As I understand it the elections that are coming up on April 11th are the deciding factor on the stability of the country. He has four sons; two of them joined the army, and two joined the Maoists. They are now fighting each other.

This morning, I woke up early, had a mediocre breakfast at the guest house, and headed out. I stopped in a historic town called Bandipur, which I had heard was beautiful, but when I realized that the main thing to do in this area is to walk in the hills I decided to beg off it. My left knee still lets me know it has not forgiven me for taking it along to Everest. The town reminded me of Laung Prabong, which was the historic city in Laos, in that it had many overweight, older package tourists. I had a chocolate milkshake, walked the main bazaar, and headed out. On the upside, the road there was devoid of traffic, narrow, curvy and steep. Lots of fun both up and down.

Tommy and Chris, the German’s, had told me about the guest house they stayed at in Pokara, and I found it soon after I arrived. They were here with about 15 other German’s in the medical program, and about 10 of them are still here. I showed up and was told by Harry, they guy who owns it, that it was full. I asked him if he knew Chris and Tommy, and he immediately gave me a room he had been holding for a guy from India. I spent the afternoon hanging out in the garden, reading my book and listening to conversations I could not understand because they were in German.

As soon as I can upload some photos I will. I will stay here for tonight and tomorrow night, and then head off to Chitwan Park to see some rhinos and elephants on a safari.

-Ben