ABC Trek Part III

5/19
ABC to Jhinu Danda

View in the morning from ABC (sorry for the choppy photoshop).

The sun trying to climb up the mountain.

The view on the way down from ABC.

What a fantastic morning! Not a cloud in the air. It was below freezing this morning as some struggled to get up or stay outside. I was guilty of the former. As Andy set off early, I aimed to reach Jhinu Danda, a site near a hot spring, before dusk. There were a lot of happy moments on this trek. I saw a fat, fuzzy monkey. I didn't notice it till it ran away from me. That's what happens when you're only focusing on the road directly in front of you (I was picking up litter from the top down to Chhomrong, so I'll let that be my excuse). As it swung in the trees, I caught a glimpse of a white furry face (found out it was a langur later). At that time a local boy was walking behind me, heading to Chhomrong to get supplies for a tea house above. He trailed me for a bit though he could have passed me easily. I picked some more strawberries and even offered them to him. He kindly rejected the offer and instead helped pick them for me.

The local boy. 

At Bamboo, where I stopped for lunch, I ended up dumping like three tablespoons of paprika on my fried rice because someone left the cap loose. I ended up drinking my entire liter of water and walking the remainder of the day with inflamed lips and esophagus. When I got to Chomrong at 5, I decided to grab my big backpack while ridding of my smaller one and continuing to Jhinu. Good thing the trek was only down. I felt so much better trekking without the front pack. I don't think we are meant to trek with them...lesson learned. I got to Jhinu before dark and went to the hot spring right after dropping my things off. It was about an hour round trip but it felt great to have made it. The hot spring pools there weren't as hot as I expected, maybe a max of 30°C/85°F or so but I felt like I was back in New Zealand with Han again, just me and a Korean guy.

The map at all sites. This one was at Bamboo.

5/20
Jhinu Danda to Tolka

The view from Jhinu. 

The next morning, I was expecting to hike the rest of the way to town but ran into a lot of rain, worms and leeches. The first round of rain, I was just going to tough it out as there were no tea houses nearby and stopping in the jungle would mean being attacked by leeches (which I did get one here that I had originally thought to have been a big mosquito). When I got to Landruk, I took a rain break for half an hour watching snotty nosed kids, carrying around little backpacks, pretending to go to school.

The kids playing school.

They wore a knitted hood and ran around in the rain, and the girl would scream for her mom when she couldn't find something. Venturing back out in the rain, I increased my pace and even began running when I saw the amount of worms and leeches, though I couldn't and didn't care to differentiate. I remember in Elementary school, I used to grab a hold of my walking partners and jump over the worms to avoid stepping on them. I still have a phobia of them but don't want to kill them. So I was tip toe running past them thinking the whole time, "stay away from me," while mumbling "eww" the whole way. At one point, I started getting mad at the chickens and birds for not doing their job.

The view along the way.

Eventually, I stopped in Tolkha/Tolka for a breather, just in time for it to rain again. I ordered some Nepali milk tea, and for the first time, it tasted like real milk was used versus powdered milk. I was determined to keep on going though, so I walked out only to get as far as the last tea house in Tolka. There, at the Sunrise Tourist Guesthouse, the family spoke surprising good English. The mom convinced to stay by saying I would not have to pay the lodge fee, only the food (which is common on the lower parts of the mountain, just ask), and if I walked further from her tea house, it would be the beginning of deeper jungle land. There I would find lots of leeches awaiting me and more rain to come. Sold! I confirmed her statement by asking a Chinese couple that passed through if they had seen any leeches. The guy had in fact been attacked by three and they were both carrying their supply of salt in their hand for quick access. Since this was one of the minor stops, I spent the night alone there with the family. On the plus side, I got to learn Nepalese language, cooking and mountain culture from them. The mom's replacement for rice was dhido, boiled millet flour. There was no chewing involved here, just swallowing after dipping chunks of it in the curry. The dad would always enjoy a cup of raksi before his dhal bhat. If you try this on the mountain, you'll never know the alcohol percentage, just know that it will be strong. Their curry was the most unique so far. It contained the usual potato and the unusual wild mushroom and cilantro. Delicious!

The father preparing the curry. 

5/21-22
Tolka to Phedi/Pokhara
I began the morning with real Gurung bread (tastes like funnel cake without the powdered sugar and shaped like a wide donut).

Gurung bread.

I walked, well more like sprinted, to Deurali thinking the leeches were hot on my tail. On the way to Pothana, I saw some monkeys again. Not sure what species they were since they were a bit far to tell but they looked more brown than fluffy like a langur. When I was checking my way with a buffalo herder, he directly asked me for 100 Rs. I shook my head in disapproval and walked away. On the way, just when I spotted another raspberry bush, Andy caught up with me. He hadn't noticed any of them along the way. Hoping for no leeches, we enjoyed another delicious snack. The hope was in vain though because I felt a leech on my ankle. I swiftly pulled out my salt and dumped it on the ugly blood-sucker. They leave a reddish-blue mark and after a couple of day, it forms an itchy, pussy bump like an insect bite. Revolting! Never let your guard down and never stop moving fast when there are leeches.

View of Pokhara in the distance just before reaching the bottom.

By the time we reached the bottom, we were just so happy to be finished. Clean clothes and not so ridiculous food prices were among the things we were looking forward to. Normally, I would do the laundry by hand but couldn't be bothered. So many little things that I miss about home. Off to Chitwan/Megauhli tomorrow to begin my volunteer on an eco-farm.

ABC Trek Part II

5/16
Tadapani to Chhomrong

Before sunrise on Tadapani.

No sunrise again, but a great view. Clear enough for the peaks to pop out before the clouds shrouded everything just before sunrise. Today, no chest pains, but now horrible back aches near my right shoulder blade. Oh blah! Luckily, Kevin, one of the HK guys, offered me some patches. I must be 60 I thought but who cares, cooling relief. I parted ways with all of them as they headed to Ghangruk (or Ghandruk) and I to Chhomrong. Took it slow for the back but luckily a mainly decent day. On the way, I even found wild strawberries.

Small but delicious wild strawberries.

Unluckily, I'm almost out of memory. I quickly switched it to a lower picture quality, which didn't last me to Chhomrong anyway. I met a Canadian, Andy, along the way who had just done the circuit in 14 days. This intense guy, Andy, from Canada had trekked from Ghorepani this morning. He pushed me to go faster as I wanted to keep up. Realized from chatting with him that my backache was probably heavily due to the water bottles that I carried on he right side of my front backpack. So ready to dump all my bags away! Drizzles kept coming and going and showers the last 30 mins of the way to Chhomrong. They have computers there, so finally a place to empty my memory card!

A tea house along the way with a storm brewing behind the mountain.

5/17
Chhomrong to Deurali

Good morning Chhomrong!

We got up early and set off by 7. The original plan was to head only to Himalaya but along the way, many people recommended Deurali, which would only be another hour away. We collected another member, Fabian, from Germany along the way. He was originally speeding pass us but stopped for a tea and joined us when he caught up. We let him in on our secret snack: strawberries.

Andy, left, and Fabian, right, with their new  walking sticks.

The walk was great from Sinua and on because of the lack of livestock. No more manure smell the whole way! When we arrived at Himalaya, Fabian met a guy that lived in the same small town as him and only three streets away. I also met the LA guy, Daniel, that I had met on the bus to Nayapul. Small world on this mountain. Off to Deurali with some drizzles. The path turned more rocky with beautiful mountains and waterfalls engulfing us.

View along the way to Deurali.

At the teahouse, we met a group of conservation volunteers, who had come up from Ghandruk. An international combination of USA, Holland, and Germany. They were playing a**hole which inspired us to play cards as well. The night ended with Chinese poker :).

 A man 'shaving'.

5/18
Deurali to Annapurna Base Camp

View before the clouds roll in.

Today was the first later start day, especially since I didn't pry myself from bed till 7. I was so glad to have left my big bag in Chhomrong. It made hiking up the mountain, where the air continually gets thinner, incredibly easier. Granted I still felt my breathing short considerably from MBC to ABC (imagine only walking but your breathing is the same as when you've been running). There were some beautiful butterflies and birds along the way. Andy was especially excited as a biologist who did field studies involving butterflies.

Following Andy's lead of taking butterfly photos.

When we finally reached ABC, I was so ecstatic. I had doubts when I had those chest pains. I couldn't believe how short acclimating lasts. Early in the afternoon, the clouds started clearing for some great views of the mountain. They coaxed me out of my warm reading spot to take some pictures. Hopefully it'll be clear in the morning for sunrise.

View from base camp when I got out of my warm spot.

ABC Trek Part I of III

5/13
Nayapul to Ulleri
Bus to Nayapul. Informed by a local that the conductor charged me too much for the fare while an older Nepali woman kept slapping him to hush him. I laughed and said I know. Not much I can do there. Still traveling with a cold. Worst thing and I popped all of my throat drops early on. In hindsight, definitely packed way too much.

View from the beginning

This porter was carrying almost three trekkers backpacks and was kicking my a** up the mountain.

Out of the food that I had packed, the batch of bananas luckily had to be finished early due to the hot sun and me leaning against my bag without thinking. Started strong though until it began raining. Waited it out for about 15 min until it started again 5 min later for an hour. I started feeling really cold and couldn't stop shivering all night, even after a hot shower. Plus side, met 2 sisters from NY,Lilly and Jessy. They laughed with me in my exasperation to get people to believe I'm from the US. Slept early but ended up waking up sweating. Rolled back to bed after peeling a layer to wake up sweating even more. At least my nose didn't feel as stuffed.

5/14
Ulleri to Ghorepani

The view in the morning.

This day was rough because I could feel every gram that I packed too much of. At that moment I just wanted to engulf all the food I ate and donate some clothes to the villagers. That or throw my pack away. Good thing today was a lot cooler than yesterday. I went through over 2 liters of water the first and only one today.

Typical orderly Nepali kitchen on the trek.

It was a slow and steady day for sure with a lot more breaks. I transformed into a tortoise if you will. Two minutes before I reached my destination it started raining again. Not knowing this, I waited it out again for an hour in a mountain grocery shop. Napped for a bit until I woke up to the family enjoying tea over Nepali music. Then they began peeling bamboo shoots.

The family peeling bamboo.

Thinking the girl in the family might be able to use some of my unwanted clothes, I asked if they wanted them. Confused at first but explaining that I packed too much as a solo traveler, they seemed eager to take it off my hands. Just in time for the rain to dwindle as well. I set off feeling slightly lighter and very thankful. Poon Hill early tomorrow for sunrise but looking forward to the hot spring on the way down from Annapurna Base Camp (ABC). This trek was named after me, an American Born Chinese :P.

View from Ghorepani.

5/15
Ghorepani to Tadapani
It began raining hard around 3 AM but before that I was already up from chest pain. Took some pain killers and laid back down for the time before my alarm. While climbing, I started getting sharp stomach pains, which was not a good sign for the rest of the day. Sunrise ended up a dud because of the cloudy weather.

Before sunrise on Poon Hill.

The sun peeking through the clouds on Poon Hill.

When I got around to leaving, I told myself to take it slow and steady. It ended up being a really slow day. I took an unusual amount of breaks. I felt as though I couldn't breathe at all and any slight movement would trigger a heart attack. One of the girls, Jessy, told me she had felt similar issues except the stomachaches, as did other travelers I talked to along the way. Okay so I'm not going mad nor experiencing a major health issue. However, I'm sad that acclimating to high elevations don't last very long. Eventually, the hike went downhill more and it became better. As a solo traveler, a lot of the other trekkers cheer you on. It really helped me through the day. Of course it rained today. I kept walking when it started with the rain jacket draped over my pack.

Along the way, before the rain.

It wasn't as bad with the trees as your cover but I stopped under a big rock as it came down harder. It didn't last too long and I reached Tadapani in about the same time I waited out the rain (~30 min). After a shower, I decided to play Chinese poker with the Hong Kong boys and Lilly, while Jessy was eagerly trying to finish her book. It began hailing for a bit, which was exciting. Met a German friend, Peter, that night as well as he showed us his Everest flight photos. Early to bed, early to rise to try and catch the sun again.

Pokhara

5/11-5/12

Alas, I have caught a cold, maybe throw in some allergies too. I always found it impossible to happen in such hot weather but mother nature will teach you differently. It made the bus ride to Pokhara insufferable. When it stopped for lunch, I laid there a bit longer but woke up to a locked bus. Feeling suffocated, I found a way out by climbing out the back window to the ladder. The remainder of the way to Pokhara, I dreamt of laying on a pad on top of the bus. Of course, sleep never comes so I sat there shooting questioning looks of "are we there yet" to the driver and his assistant. 

On the road to Pokhara.

At the bus stop, the usual crowd of hotel hawkers awaits the tourists. Not knowing where I'm going but wanting to avoid the advertisers, I headed in the direction of the taxis. Along the way, a guy on a scooter offered a room and a ride to check it out. He was telling me he could help me organize what I wanted to do as he was still trying to promote his hotel. He suggested an itinerary for me and offered to drive me around as long as I covered the petrol. Normally, I wouldn't accept as I travel extreme budget but thinking in the local's shoes, I know all their actions are for their livelihood. I find myself still looking for a bargain but not hassling as harshly. Besides, sometimes paying for convenience is so worth it. Coincidentally, his name is Dhaka, the same as the capital of Bangladesh.

The blind flute player.

I went with Dhaka to a Nepali club, with outrageously priced drinks (compared to the normal foreigner prices), for some Nepali music and dance. The whole place had poor acoustics and lighting but an awesome, blind flute player. On the way back to his house, we were stopped by police checking licenses. Apparently, a large number of people drive illegally and if caught, are imprisoned or fined heavily.

The next day was an early rise: 4:30 to head to Sarangkot for sunrise. The outline of the mountains in the back before the break of dawn is mystical. Unfortunately, the clouds masked the sun but the panoramic view of the city was worth getting out of bed. On the way back before a nap, we stopped at another temple. I was surprised to see kids blessing other people; not a pandit yet but not sure what to call them.

From the top of Sarangot.

The remainder of the day consisted of a visit to Devi's Falls, getting my TIMS card and trekking permit, and walks around the Fewa Lake. I noticed many shops advertising women empowerment during my walk. One of them was for Nepalese handicraft. It was like watching an olden time Chinese drama live. They make very nice products and I think they deliver globally. Their site: www.nepalesewomenskill.com.

Weaving.

 Another nice surprise during my walk was a fellow at a restaurant that started guessing which country I came from. When I told him to close his eyes and listen to what I was saying, he immediately guessed correctly. I should try that trick more often.

Tomorrow I will begin my Annapurna Base Camp trek. I've heard rumors of overpriced food and internet. Therefore, updates will come after ten days or so when I get back to Pokhara. The plan is to start at Nayapul, go up to Ghorepani, Poon Hill, Chomrong, Base Camp, and them back down along the river, stopping by the hot spring at Jhinu Danda. See you then. For now, please share :).

Namaste Kathmandu

5/9-5/10

First things first, the American Embassy. I had met a tour organizer, Bikram, who helped me get around. Originally, he tried to convince me to book a tour with him. Later, I learned that he was looking for a business partner or even someone to help in with his site. I offered to do the latter, started, but I think he thought better of it. I obviously don't go well with business since travelling shouldn't be about the money. I'm glad he was honest with me with the prices in the end (for the most part), for his advice for going around Kathmandu, and for introducing me to another Naruto fanatic from the French part of Switzerland, Elian.



Kathmandu Darbar Square

Elian accompanied me the rest of the day and the next to Darbar Square, Monkey Temple, Pashupatinats Hindu Temple, and Nagarkot. Darbar Square, also known as Freakish Street in the 1970s, seemed like the heart of the city. As we walked out of the square, we walked along the river. Now this river was shocking. It wasn't just an unpleasant feast for the eyes; the smell was enough to make your lungs collapse. Here I thought Kathmandu was cleaner than other Asian cities as I watched the shopkeepers vigorously sweeping the streets and splashing water to settle the dust. Boy was I fooled. All the trash gets funneled to the river where many people still fish, and water buffalo and birds still feed. Poverty, pollution, corruption, and trash...so many issues to deal with.

At the Monkey Temple, I had to deal with more mosquitoes. As I stood very still for a long exposure shot, my elbows got chewed. So sad since the picture didn't come out anyways. Elian pinched me but still laughed on calling me his bug repellant (probably the fourth time I've been crowed that vehement title). If you wish to see interesting interactions between monkeys and stray dogs, be sure to put this temple on your bucket list Oh yeah, another issue for Asian countries, stray animals.

The next day, we hired a scooter and went to two of the four planned places. Besides starting late, we stopped every 20 minutes or less to ask for directions (road signs are next to non-existent here). At Pashupatinats, the largest Hindu temple in Nepal, we witnessed endless cremations. The corpse was blessed, washed (feet and mouth), redressed in white and orange (symbolizing purity and holiness), old clothes tossed into river, blessed and set alight from the mouth. If you would like to know about the long process, click here.

The family going around the cremation site three times before setting the body down to be set on fire.

We also met two different types of Sardu's. The first ones were colorfully painted, sitting there waiting for you to pay them to take pictures. The second was still learning to become Sardu, devoting every day to learning the way. He called the first ones fictitious, or their appearance is that of a Sardu but if you peel the exterior, the interior is not. As our guide around the temple put it, Nepal has three main religions: Hinduism, Buddhism, and Tourism. Many of the citizens have adopted the last one to fund their material desires.

Already running low on time to catch the sunset at Nagakot, we headed straight there. However, mistaking the sunset to be around six, we sat down for a late lunch after arriving at five. When we finished our meal, a local corrected us. Our only consolation was that the skies were cloudy anyways. The promised view of the mountain ranges were not visible that day either. On a clear day, it would have been an jaw-dropping view. Oh well, c'est la vie.

To Kathmandu

5/7-5/8

After arriving back at my couchsurfing host's residence in Dhaka, I took a warm to hot shower to wash away the chill from the rain, remembering how a luxury it is to have this function. Normally, I'm more than thrilled to jump into a cold shower in this heat and humidity. Only in South and Southeast Asia, well Australia too sometimes haha, where I miss the cold dearly. Bring back the never summer of Colorado :).

The rainy season in Bangladesh seems to have arrived a month early. Eusuf mentioned it was due to climate change which has also caused the majority of the rain to shift to Chittagong versus Sylhet. The rain seems to think I still want to shower when I walk out as well. When I stop to have a tea, the weather is clear. However, when I start walking again, the sky crys it heart out. I'm so sure I'll catch a cold by tomorrow. Ahh, I just wanted to buy my ticket to Nepal from the United Airways ticketing office. Is it too much to ask to leave your country? At least the night ended well with "Silver Lining's Playbook". Great movie by the way for those who haven't watched it yet.

After getting to the airport, I had spent every last taka I had; almost as though I had never been to Bangladesh at all. I think I spent in these two weeks-ish an average Bangldeshi earns in a year. It's a crazy skewed scale. It reminds me how lucky I am to have a bank account. Anyways, on the flight, I encountered a strange flight attendant. She got unreasonably mad at me for using the toilet at the front of the bus since the back had a queue. Well, that woke me up from my sleep walk. Note to self: never fly United Airways again.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived in Kathmandu was the weather: much cooler and less humid.  I love this place already. When I got into town and walked around, I have to say I could package everything in the shops and take them home with me. Their two native cuisines appear to be Dal Bat (all you can eat rice, dal, vegetables, and a meat if you chose one) and Mo Mo (dumplings usually with a chili/curry tomato blended sauce).


Vegetable Dal Bat



Vegetable Mo Mo

Chittagong

5/4-5/6

After boarding the train, we ran into one of Tapas' collegues, Eusuf. I ended up tagging along with him and his guest from Bulgaria, Pavlo. We all walked quickly to find a hotel as the rain was only going to come harder. By the time we had all checked in and freshened up, the streets were covered in several inches of rain. Eusuf ordered food from the reception where it would be easy for one of the men wearing a lungi and no shoes to pick up our food while we waited it out in the candlelight. I suggested that we visit the District Commissioners office tonight to get a permit for the Hill Tracts, since I had been in contact with him already. When we arrived, the office turned out to be his residence. The private secretary was so friendly and we got the permit faster than you could say pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Later, I went to a cybercafe to empty my photos and update my blog, but was interrupted by another power outage. When I checked it on Pavlo's Mac, the pictures didn't show up again. As a photographer, Pavlo said it could be due to the sensitivity of card readers to operating systems and other factors. So back to the cybercafe later to retrieve the photos from the software again. Hopefully, Nepal sells the CF cards so that I won't have to deal with this problem again


The dimly lit classroom on the floor.

The other friend and son praying in the CNG.

The next morning we went to Rangamati, one of the Hill Tract areas, hopefully avoiding all of the riots planned for that day. Eusuf had planned a boat trip around the artificial lake that would take us to the different tribes and temples. The trip was cut short very quickly due to more rain. So we decided to head back to the main land. Luckily, the rain did stop at one point which allowed us to walk around and meet the locals. It didn't take very long before we had an army of kids following us, willing us to take their photos. The gem of the trip was a school we stumbled upon in someone's home. The teacher taught English, Arabic, Hindi and other subjects to a group of kids sitting on the floor. The floor, which served as their seat and desk, was dimly lit by one light. There was no chalkboard and the walls were covered in old newspapers. Everything about this situation reminded me of a book I am currently reading called "Three Cups of Tea". It is these situations that make it so hard to choose only one cause to fight for but also makes us more compassionate to help.

On my way back to Chittagong, the bus stopped halfway and almost everyone stepped out to watch the TV. I knew it could only be the riot that had their undivided attention. Two hours later, everyone emptied the bus, or came back for their belongings and left again. I spun my head around, looking confused but deducted that the bus would not be moving any further. One woman holding a young child came back on the bus and handed me her phone saying "husband". I took it and he said "if you want to get to Chittagong tonight, take the CNG with my wife. Okay? You understand?". So I followed her off the bus, joining her other friend and son. All of us hopped into the back of a CNG, while the driver and another male friend of theirs sat in the front. The CNG went in the other direction, which I was assumed was heading towards smaller roads that led to the city. After driving
around for two hours or so, and making numerous stops to ask other drivers coming from the other direction of the situation, we parked with the rain cover drawn. The guys in the front left to scope it out while I sat in the back watching police cars drive by. If I attempted to take a photo, the ladies would quickly motion for me not to move. They sat praying and pulling their dupatta closer to hide their face when we heard what sounded like drums beating. They asked me about my religion and I got an idea they were afraid because the Muslims would attack them for being Buddhists. After remembering that they had an extra kameez and dupatta, they rushed me to put them on and cover my face as well. When it was safe to move again, we finally arrived outside of the city center a little before midnight. Their husbands, that came to meet them, greeted me. The husband that I had spoke to on the phone offered me a ride on his motorcycle back to my hotel. So a 2.5 bus ride turned into an eight hour ordeal. I found out the extremists had blocked the Chittagong-Rangamati road and the fighting had continued long into the night, especially in the capital (check out the article by clicking here), hence the delay.

The next morning, I found out there would not be any services running to Dhaka yet so I went to check out a shipyard Eusuf recommended. TaraTari Shipyard turned out to be a French NGO, aimed at improving the stability and durability of Bangladeshi boats, and supporting the community through various projects. If anyone is looking to do some volunteering in this field, I'm sure they would love to hear from you. Greg, my guide, also took me around a jute mill nearby. After repetitive promises of no photography, a guard finally accompanied us in. I couldn't say I've heard of it until now but have seen them in the form of a gunny sack. It was quite fascinatining seeing the factory at work. It was very dark and reminded me of a scene from an old movie. Half of the mill was no longer in operation so the machines sat there collecting further dust upon the thick two inches. Many of the weavers were older men and the ones spinning included some children. Upon seeing us, the children tailed us without being reprimanded. Before entering, Greg and I were discussing the humanitarian issue of child labor. Is it better for them to have this task and earn some money for their family, or is it better for them to run around the streets begging? Either way, we both argreed neither is a desirable picture but neither is the root of the problem.

When I got back to Chittagong, the buses had started running again. I got a seat beside a lady that was eager to have a female neighbor. She turned out to be very bossy and chatty. She only spoke Bangla but would drag me around insisting things. I couldn't even pee without her yelling and pounding on my door to instruct me to do something. Nice person, but pushy. Glad to have gotten to Dhaka in one piece though.

Srimangal

5/2-5/3

My two days in Srimangal were packed of activities. The first day consisted of a visit to a Tea Estate, a Lotus Lake, the Khasia Village, a pineapple farm, lunch and an easy walk through the Lawachera Natonal park with another traveler, Mark, and our guide, Tapas. As we walked through the estate, Tapas mentioned that Srimongal is also known as the city of two leaves and one bud. This is what the pickers look for as they collect the leaves. The pickers aim to collect about 24 kg a day. Each kg is worth two taka, which is less than three cents. So a long day of work in the heat will earn them less than a dollar. Every kg they pick above 24 is worth one taka. The pay is so poor, the locals don't participate. The work is given to women shipped from Asam and Urrisam parts of India. The tour today ended with a roof truck ride to the national park and Khasia village. In the park, we found some phayres leaf monkeys and endangered orange bellied black squirrels. It looks as though I took a million pictures of trees but if you spy closely, you'll spot the arboreal creatures. The Khasia village was the base for bettle nut production. The leaves and nuts are grown, harvested and packaged here. The nut is equivalent to chewing tobacco. It's chopped, placed on a bettle leaf, topped with tobacco and lime, and chewed.

The next day was a serene boat ride around a wetland past lots of rice paddies. The people catch fish, crabs, collect medicinal herbs and harvest lotus fruit from the wetland. The best was getting away from the honking in the cities. After sending Mark (nicknamed by a local as "a golden smile as ageless as the sun") off on his delayed train with his black market purchased ticket, Tapas invited me to his home for dinner. If I didn't get out of the capital, I would never have met the real Bangladeshis: hospitable, kind and curious. 對事不對人：it's unfortunate I had to go through the passport ordeal but the people in this country are very special. Before Srimongal, I would never have considered returning to this country but now I'm not totally against it. Tapas, especially, is an amazing character. I was to take the 11:24 train tonight. Since Mark's was late, we already foretold mine would be too. However, we never imagined the extent to which it would be delayed. By the time it pulled in, it was nearly half past six the next morning and he had waited with me every minute of the night. What did we do those seven hours? We chatted about various things, drank lots of tea, sang songs and I mimicked this shop keeper's Bangla when we took shelter in his shop from the pouring rain. One chat that will stick with me was about identity. He would see me argue with locals who were determined I was from Japan, China, or Korea. Anywhere but USA really. He said they mean well even if they aren't smiling and they don't know I would get so upset. He advised me to be patient and explain about my whole background. They would understand and if not, don't take it to heart.

One other person I wanted to mention was this kid I met at the train station. He first came up to me when I was purchasing my ticket the afternoon I arrived in this city. He spoke surprising good and fast English. He was telling me a story about how his family could only afford one child in school and that child was his sister. He worked to help fund his sister and wanted me to give money to his cause. His story seemed so well-rehearsed, I didn't believe it. I met him again when Tapas and I sent Mark off. Tapas told us the same story and other details. His father is generally intoxicated and the poor kid has polio. He learned English from Tapas and also picked it up from all the foreigners coming in by train. He's always in the station selling different things. That night he was selling cold bottled drinks, yelling it out as he walked back and forth along the train. This kid is only twelve and he's obviously not the only one suffering. The poverty riddling the country leaves me completely speechless. What can I do to help long term? Should I believe every kid that walks up to me? If I do and it is a scam, am I perpetuating the problem? 

Hit the Road

4/30-5/1

These two days ran together with all the traveling on buses. I even ventured to take a bus in Dhaka city to the bus station (couldn't leave feeling the city had beaten my adventurous spirit). The 30th was left to meeting people from the window. It was particularly interesting when I tried to order food. Since the local bus to Sylhet makes frequent stops, there were numerous people always running onto the bus trying to sell you something. There were also shops outside doing their own thing. I tried ordering from one of these. Lots of laughter and confusing hand signals later, I got a rice cake. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what I was ordering but at least it was fresh off the griddle. I even met a Bangladesh Pom on the last leg of the journey. Martin and his friend helped me find my hotel in a jiffy.

The first was a more jammed packed day. I woke up to lots of shouting outside. The first thing that came to mind was a riot, or hartal, since it would be easier to gather members on a holiday. Later I realized that they were just demonstrations in celebration of International Worker's Day, compliments of those way back in Chicago. It was quite fun taking pictures of this since the audience cheers you on and this journalist for "New Nation" newspaper, Jamal, dragged me along with him. Boy did I gain a whole new respect for journalists!

 Morning in Sylhet was followed by a bus ride to Srimangal, city of beauty (Sri-) and peace (-mangal). It definitely had both of those elements if you head out towards the Nilkantha Tea Barn. This shop, across the street from the Finlay Tea Estate, has the famed seven-layered tea. Highly over-rated though pretty. If we all think about it, to make the distinct layers, you'll need differing densities. What do you add to tea to make it more dense? Sugar. By the time I reached the last three layers, it was over. All I could care for was some water. I was in good company as we all laughed about the sugar water. This family decided to invite me to their house so I told them I would go if time permitted. On my walk back, I caught a ride on a motorcycle and passed a sign that said Green Leaf Guesthouse and Eco-tours. My best decision yet to walk back and check it out. It turned out to be run by the highly recommended tour guide in Lonely Planet, Tapas (Ta-peoosh) Dash. I discussed some options with him and even got an antiseptic cream recommendation, Savlon, for all my growing number of bites that now look more like chicken pox. A kid, Jahid, started chatting with me and even walked out with me. I asked him what's a good restaurant and he walked with me to it to continue practicing his English. When I asked if he wanted to join me for dinner, it turns outs it means an offer to pay as well. Not much, but irked that it was possibly the most expensive place I've been to in Bangladesh so far. I've got to be careful of what I say to sly kids behind a beaming smile.

By the time I got back to my dingy room, a storm had started. I took some pictures with some of the kids working in the hotel cheering me on. Fun times until I had to take a candle-lit shower with a non-working shower head. No electricity for the night so no fan, which means more mosquitoes and no sleep. Glorious.

Lost and Found

4/29/13

Noteworthy events of the day: I got my limited passport in the afternoon and then a call from the embassy in the evening that someone had found my stolen passport! Ahhh, brilliant. Not enough words can describe all of my feelings but I've settled on thinking I've applied for a passport 2.25 years early. So who found it and where? Zahi-Dul, a newspaper chief found it on the streets in Chittagong, which lies in the south of Dhaka, around 260 km away. The complete details will probably be a mystery forever since I understood about 50% of our phone conversation. He asked for my address and said he would arrange for a courier to send it. He even called me back when I texted it to him but forgot to put the area, Gulshan-2, in it. There was a series of thanking from each end but no mention of remuneration. Somehow I feel I will be asked for it some point. Am I too cynical? Anyhow, Chris' roommate, Benedikt, couldn't stop laughing when I received the call. Smh! What else can you do right? I'm just in a constant state of stupor and disbelief in this city. Maybe I should start clicking my shoes and see if I wake up back in NY.

Last event to note is the extraction software for the flash drive worked! Well, for the most part. Some pictures came up with sections of gray. Those are most likely corrupted forever. In addition, I got pictures that weren't even mine, but you could tell this guy loved self-portraits...and Mountain Dew hehe.