Mr Sam meets Mr Mike!

Following another delightful and hair-raising bus ride we left behind the serenity and rurality of Pokhara for the dust and fumes of Narayangard, the reluctance for departing tempered only by the excitement of getting to see Mike in action at school! The transition was completed by checking in to the highly inappropriately named Royal Rest House - I still bear the bedbug scars...

After a day of rediscovering the joys of TV ( the guilty pleasures of The OC eased our adjustment...) we set off for the Chitwan National Park, slightly apprehensive as our guidebook was filled with stories of parties of tourists being attacked by tigers and charged by rhinos. Suffice to say the phrase "health and safety" hasn't yet reached Nepal.

Where everyone else from Pokhara had bought a package deal that saw them dropped off from the bus into the heart of the park and then ferried around from restaurant to canoe to jeep, Hiren and I proudly arranged everything by ourselves, much to the shock of our fellow trekkers from Pokhara who were aghast when we alighted from the bus in the middle of Narayangard while they sallied on towards the park - we're getting the hang of this travelling lark! For a few moments we nearly regreted the decision to be fully independent as spoilt by the luxuries of Pokhara which is geared up fully for tourists we found ourselves plunged into a town where virtually no-one speaks English; all the signs were in Hindi and the locals stared in amazement to see a white person walking down the street. After locating our hotel and negotiating an upgrade room (yes, bedbugs was an upgrade, as was the change in faeces and blood on the sheets in the dungeon they initially placed us in to merely being smeared across the walls in our final room...) we then caught a local bus to Saurath much to the amusement of the daily travellers and then hired a rickshaw to take us to the park entrance (this did however involve jumping off the cardboard carpeted and walled rickshaw every time there was a slight incline and pushing the contraption until the driver stopped wheezing!)

However, once in the park we resorted back to being shameless tourists immediately booking into the elephant bathing and safari jeep activities. When the elephant turned up to 'pick' us up we weren't quite prepared for the lurching amble through the town to get to the waterhole. Hiren pointblank refused to get on leaving me to negotiate the bambino alone...this required stretching my arms as wide as their little armspan reaches and grabbing hold of the elephant's ears and dragging them together across its eyes, then tapping its trunk with my foot at which sign it rolled its trunk out for me and I staggered up its nozzle using its ears to pull myself up its trunk and over its head and then performing a highly inelegant 180 degree manoeuvre so that I was sat astride its neck with my feet behind its ears. Our elephant had no "saddle" so I was forced to grip on with pincer like groins as I rolled from one side to the other with the guide holding onto me before I got the hang of it while Hiren smirked with laughter on the ground below especially when the elephant decided to raise its trunk and sneeze all over me....

We got to the waterhole (eventually) and then I had one of the most bizarre and incredible experiences whereby the guide directed the elephant into the water and before I knew what was happening had rolled over crushing me between its body and the bottom of the river! I managed to escape and then helped join in the "bathing" in order to keep the elephant cool - pretty difficult to keep the whole surface area of a several tonned beast continually wet! The guide then proceeded to begin a game of raising the elephant to its legs and then making it flop onto its side into the water - without fail, I guessed wrongly each time the elephant fell so that while the guide remained astride of her upturned belly I was gasping to pry myself from being crushed into the riverbed while simultaneously trying to avoid the boulder like elephant poohs that were drifting about in the water. Apparently the aim of the 'game' is to roll yourself across the elephant as it falls so that you move from a seated position on its neck to standing on its belly - an achievement I finally managed right at the end. The whole time this is going on the elephant fills its trunk with water and douses you as it sprays it over its head so that you can't see a thing. I spent about 20 minutes in the waterhole with my guide and the elephant while Hiren remained on terra firma and the crowd of tourists watched in amusement and cheered my struggles! The size and yet gentility of the elephant is impossible to comprehend and she certainly knew what she was doing when she dropped me in the water and sprayed me with her trunk. It was an immense bonding session and I was most upset at the end when we had to get out and say goodbye to her...

Just about had enough time to grab some lunch before our safari jeep which filled me with more anxiety than the elephant given Mike had told me the previous day that he had to climb a tree to escape an rhinocerous when he had been the previous weekend. Fortunately the only rhino we say was quite content in its mudbath, the crocodiles were being hand-reared in the breeding centre for release back into the wild and the only tiger was safely penned in after its man-eating mother had been captured, though the canoe-crossing of the river added an otherwordly feel to the excursion, as if you are leaving behind all civilisation and entering a lost world. The ride was a four hour trek through the forest, carving our way through grass twice the height of the jeep so that I felt like I was in Jurassic Park and that at any moment a T-rex would burst out of the undergrowth and start chasing our vehicle.

We got back so late from the safari that the only mode of transport home was a motorbike with the driver, Hiren and I all squashed onto the saddle tearing down a road that makes Orchard Valley look like a steamrolled Centre Court clinging on for dear life - my groins took 3 days to recover before I could walk as if I didn't have a barrel between my legs.

Because we are with different airlines Hiren left Narayangard earlier and as he made his way to Bangkok I was invited to stay with Mike's host family. It's strange to think that all those years ago when Matt, The Ginge, Fk and I were at school and would meet up in The Swan and chat to the new Gurkha barman that I would end up staying in the barman's parents' house! Purna and Padar are absolutely lovely and live in a beautiful three storey pagoda type building a million miles in all senses from the Royal Rest House so that I felt like I was royalty during my stay. They are unbelievably philanthropic assisting in every part of the community and are proud founding members of the local Lions branch and have even "donated" the bottom floor of their house to several families, including two incredibly cheeky boys called Lucky and Baba who wreak havoc, stopping only when Padar gives them the glare!

It was brilliant to see Mike again and on his behalf and in his defence to all those who have written/emailed wondering whether they would ever hear from him he works six days a week and on his day off and evenings is fought over by the locals about who will host him so that he hasn't had a chance to get to the internet cafe or the post office (which is highly dodgy, though he has received his banana boxer shorts Pomme - hilariously, the package arrived at the house and Purna brought into the school and gave it to Mike as he was having a meeting with the Principal who insisted he opened it there and then and was apparently taken aback by what Mike unearthed which we have been joking is similar to the "rock" present in A Bug's Life so that the Nepalese probably think it's some kind of quaint English custom!) However, I can reassure everyone that he is fine and absolutely loving his time. I haven't seen him so chirpy and enthused since Newmarket and he is literally adored by the whole community. The Principal defers to him on every matter to the extent that Mike interviews all prospective teachers for the school and on his recommendation or not they are given the job! He also sits in to observe other lessons given by teachers to provide feedback and as well as teaching his own classes has to give the teachers lessons in English pronunciation! The teachers are all similar in age to him and there's a great camaraderie between them all and plenty of socialising. In addition, Purna's home is an open house to the community (and Purna a leading figure who sits on every committee) and so every spare second Mike is being whisked away by visitors to have the honour of feeding him in their house.

I was invited for one day into the school where I sat in on Mike's lessons. He has been assigned teaching of the exquisitely named "English Delights" class! As in Belize, English is divided into Grammar and Creative classes though in Nepal they call the creative side Delights! Mike takes the 11-14 year olds in preparation for their exams and has to get them to read, write and discuss poems and short stories. While I was there he had them in stitches with his chalkboard drawings and theatrical mimes of the Wizard of Oz and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! Even the other teachers on their free periods sit in on his classes to learn.

Having said all that the school is demanding; it's extremely hot and long hours six days a week - Mike is dragged in before and kept in after school as well by the Principal who seeks his opinion on everything. But Mike is enjoying the promotion in responsibility from being a TA to planning his classes and marking work and really feels like he's making a difference. I was really proud to see how brilliant he was in the school and how he is looked up to by everyone - he can even converse in Nepalese! My sole contribution however seemed to serve as a distraction as the kids mobbed me unable to comprehend how I could be older yet smaller than my brother and why I was not yet married at the ancient age of 23!

Purna has a fantastic all round balcony on the top floor of his house so we spent the evenings sitting up on the verandah watching the sun set, eating dal bhat and catching up on all the news while planning our trip around the Philippines, Malaysia and Thailand when he has finished at the school.

On my last night we were taken on a surprise visit (on Purna's motorbicyle, by which time I had mastered the art of clinging on when squashed together!) by Purna and the Principal to the Grace Church orphanage school . It's a tiny little builidng, home to about 20 children, who we were introduced to and taken to their church. They sat us down and we listened to them singing hymns, one of which was one we sang back in Belize which wrenched the nostalgia up several more gears! It was such a shock to suddenly come across a Christian church and was one of those special moments where you see the children lighting up as they sing and encourage you to join in and clap along and make you feel at home. After weeks of being away from such an environment both of us were really glad of the opportunity to stay awhile with them in their little church. They also, bizarrely, have a drum kit and so Mike, inititally worried that he might have "lost it" was soon in his element thumping away!!

The following day I assumed I was being given a lift to the Kathmandu bus station by Purna only to find our van hijacked by the local members of his Lions' Club and that Mike and I were being whisked away to the inaugural opening of a new village daycare centre as guests of honour! The project has been managed by an incredible Dutch lady called Reinike who has singlehandedly seen the erection of the building despite all the difficulties of trying to establish something in a country where apathy rules and who burst into tears when the ribbon was cut and she was asked to make a speech. She said dealing with the disinterest and politics of the Nepalese way of life (whereby the men hadn't lifted a finger to build the centre for the women and babies of this village yet flocked to the opening ceremony and pompously delivered speech after speech) that to see what she had begun to think was an impossible dream finally realised was almost too much for her. This centre will allow the babies of the community to stay there from 10-3 and thereby allow the women to go out into the fields and help with the farming, thus improving the money made on the plots of land and increasing the quality of living in this remote village. The children were gorgeous and loved the balloons and lollies provided them and we happily passed away a lunchtime playing with them and meeting the mothers. It was the perfect way to leave Narayangard.

I then caught a bus to Kathmandu where I had one night spent wandering around the brilliant Thamel district window shopping, eating pastries again and listening to the live music in all the bars. The following morning I forced myself up at 6.30am to do a three-hour walking tour of the city to catch all the sights before I left. Somehow, I managed to navigate my way around in spite of the map I had bearing no resemblance to the labyrinth of alleyways that make up the city. Kathmandu is a bizarre mix of amazing temples and shrines around every corner which are centuries old yet used to dry washing and hang fruit to be sold! I was fortunate to conduct my tour on a Saturday, the holy day of the week, and found myself packed down narrow walkways with women carrying plates of incense and spices to lay at the temples and spent many a quiet moment lingering outside various temple steps listening to the chanting prayers. Kathmandu is unique in that Hindus and Buddhists worship at and in the same temples; this religious tolerance is remarkably refreshing after having encountered many of the less desirable attributes of religious practices since I've been here.

Made it back to my hot-waterless room at the Marco Polo Guest House, stopping off to buy some earphones for my ipod (an omission in the package sent via Mike!) before catching the plane to Singapore and sleeping overnight in the airport waiting for my connecting flight to Thailand to meet up with Hiren in Bangkok and resume our adventures!!

Nepal is an incredibly beautiful country (the schoolchildren are all patriotically taught how their country proudly hosts the world's largest mountain range, reciting the eight of the ten highest peaks that reside in Nepal with beaming smiles) and its people are a happy, smiling, peaceful nation who don't have much but offer it all. Residing in Pokhara and Kathmandu it is easy to forget that 80% of the country live in rural, mostly hillside villages, far below the poverty line. Nepal has the world's third highest infant mortality rate and the highest rate of maternal deaths, principally because the remote villages have no medical, or educative, personnel. I read a despairing article in the Himalayan Times whereby the journalist successfully argued that all of the country's educated people work either in the two main cities, enticed by the luxuries of regular electricity and hot water, or go abroad to work in order to send money home leaving the vast majority of the country's rural population without the most basic necessities and existing in a cycle that shows no signs of change. Fortunately, many of these hillside villages are now getting together to install their own hydroelectricity (the government shows no interest in instilling electricity for them in the hills) and are getting together to form co-operative farming efforts which is boosting sales and efficiency and so with the newly elected government, and the work of Mike!!!, perhaps there is some hope after all.

FAVOURITE PLACE: Purna and Padar's house!! Sitting on top of my elephant!
FAVOURITE FOOD: Fresh cucumbers, hurrah, and the small, sweet bananas.
WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS: The cheeky children at the school that wandered into our room at all hours of the day; hanging out with Mike on the verandah as the sun sets and putting the world to rights!; watching the locals playing finger-snooker, caroun, outside their shopfronts in the heat of the day.
WHAT I'M NOT GOING TO MISS: The way all drivers use their horns for every possible occasion, whether to signify their presence on the road, their plan to overtake or their communication with other drivers...especially at 5 in the morning!; Chicken biryani's packed with cashew nuts; bedbugs...
MOST BIZARRE: Purna's father-in-law asking Mike and I if our mother had been drinking when pregnant with Mike and that's why he had pointed ears and webbed toes?
WHAT I'VE READ: 'Closing Time' by Joseph Heller (a weighty tome and disappointing sequel to Catch 22 that has forever ruined my love for Yossarian and is sadly devoid of the brilliant one-liners and hilarious events that leap from every page of its prequel...)
FAVOURITE QUOTEs: "Man without imagination is like a bird without wings", "A man without books is like a body without a soul" (Cicero)