Arriving in Nepal

I didn't have internet for a couple of days, so "A Day in Delhi," below, should be read before this one.

On Wednesday, Santosh took me to the airport and I met Claire’s friend Antonio there and we flew to Kathmandu on an Indian line called Jet Airways. They seem to have taken their lessons from the flight protocols of the 1970s, with some unique twists. A full size plane, four flight attendants, and first they passed out beer to everyone who wanted it, then a lime drink to everyone else. I thought we were done, since it was a two-hour flight, but then they passed out lunch: Indian vegetarian in real dishes with real silverware. It was very important to them that everyone was fed—they even woke people up to eat, and checked on whether it was liked or not. They spoke English even to each other. I don’t think I had understood well enough how much English saturated India as an official language. Even people like Santosh, who have not spent much time at all in first-language English countries like the U.S. or U.K., speak English like natives. Some of the radio stations are even in English, and it appears to be a language that allows communication between different linguistic groups in the country.

Warning for people traveling to Nepal for the wedding: Bring with you a passport photo! I will say that again: BRING A PASSPORT PHOTO. Because when you arrive, the first thing you do is to fill out forms requesting a visa. It’s not automatic. Where it says “address in Nepal,” “Kathmandu” is sufficient, no problem, but if you don’t BRING A PASSPORT PHOTO you then have to go to the money exchange to get Nepali rupees (you feel very rich: $20 buys almost 2000 rupees, given in a bunch of colorful bills), then you go to the photo booth to get your picture taken and printed.

Then you stand in line and go through the visa procurement process, which costs money, which CANNOT be paid in rupees, so don’t change all your money at once. You can get cash later at an ATM. Then if you are like us, by the time you get through all this, your luggage is already off the belt and sitting in the far corner. A man will grab your cart and want to help you with your luggage, but he will want a tip afterward, and one bill is not enough, but you can act dumb. I didn’t have to act. Then you go out where everyone is waiting. Claire and Dilli Padu and his driver met us there and drove us through Kathmandu to the tourist district, Tamel, where Claire’s apartment is.

Kathmandu is much smaller and less congested and noisy than Delhi (except for the band that entertains the neighborhood every night till 11:00), and many buildings are freshly painted. The streets are narrow and full of motorcycles, bicycle rickshaws, and cars, and there are hardly any sidewalks, so walking is an active sport. Claire is on the fourth (fifth) floor of an apartment building. We visited with Dilli for awhile, then began to get situated, and then went up on the roof to get oriented, then went for a walk through the city as evening came. Claire stopped in various stores, visited in Nepali everywhere, introduced her mother and friend, and bought a few things here and there. Then the lights went out and we made our way in the dark, lighted by the stores that had generators. We bought vegetables at the little vegetable market in the dark. The merchants, who were sitting on the pavement behind their produce, weighed it out with old double scales and weights. A pound of onions cost 13 rupees or about 18 cents. A pound of tomatoes, not much more.

We came back and had dinner with Dilli Mama and her daughter Erika. We were very tired by then and the lights were still out, so they gave us some LED lights plugged into some kind of rechargeable box, and we went up to bed. There are timed blackouts to conserve power. Today the electricity will be off for three hours in the afternoon and a couple of hours in the evening. Everyone just adjusts. In the middle of the night Claire heard the frig going back on, so she got up and turned on the fan.

This morning I got my first lesson in clothes washing in the bathroom which, like the bathroom in Delhi, doubles as a shower, with a squeegee and drain. This one has not only faucets but also a showerhead. I washed clothes in a bucket, rinsed them a couple or three times, then carried them to the roof to hang on the line. It is a time-consuming operation. You don’t want to get your clothes too dirty or leave them to accumulate. But while I was hanging them out, a woman came up and started to teach me how to name my clothes in Nepali. She was amazed that we say the Nepali word for shirt, "shirt."

Everyone here is extremely friendly, I think at least partly because Claire has made so many friends. The Nepali culture in general seems kind and generous, gentle and good humored. We feel very well cared for. Tonight Claire and I are going sari shopping, so that will be another adventure.