As I begin my fourth week in the metropolis of Kathmandu, I am finding that fun can be everywhere. So here goes with some of my giggles.


1. Rating the spitting.  As I share my walk to and from the monastery with one or another of our volunteers, we give a rating of 1 to 10 (10 being masterful!) of the native hawking, snorking and resultant spitting. Reached as high as a 9 so far.


2. Bargaining. Normally this is something I have always hated to do when holidaying. However, there is no doubt that here in the Thamel District of Kathmandu (the popular tourist area) there is a two-tier pricing system.  One for the native Napali and one for pale skinned tourist targets.

The shopkeepers love it and I have taken to keeping it fun and teasing. Here is what works best for me…”I’m just a poor volunteer english teacher, here to teach the monks and I don’t have much money.”  Works every time and it’s true!  They give me their last price and I respond with MY last price and a deal is struck.


3.Getting a Massage. Just walking in to a spa (word used lightly) you can be seen immediately.  A young man at the front desk where I had my second massage led me into the massage area and told me where I could put my clothes etc. Not seeing any other staff around I asked him who was going to give me my massage. 

 “Me”, he replied. 

To myself I said, “No way are you  getting your hands on my bod” while aloud I made it clear, “Nope, I want a woman.”

“No worries, very professional”, was his response.

Eyeball to eyeball I stared at him and said one word, “Woman.”

He made a beeline for the phone and called a woman masseur to come in and she arrived within 10 minutes.


4. Walking in the Rain. Love the looks I get while walking to the monastery in my rain gear which consists of neon orange rain boots (purchased at home for $5), a pearlized pink rain poncho and a multi-coloured umbrella.  Oh yes, and I also sing along to my iPod.  Hmm, maybe that’s what caused the stares.


5. Seeing how many smiles I can get. The Nepali tend to look down or away as you approach on the street.  I look directly at them and if they glance my way I give a great big smile and a cheery “Namaste!”. 

You should see their faces change!  Suddenly there are creases of smiles, toothy grins, sparkling eyes and a returned “Namaste”.  Sometimes I smile and nod and I will get the same back. 


6.Welcoming Monkeys to School. Check out video.


7. Climbing.  Last Saturday, two Aussie volunteers Charmaine and Rachel along with myself and guide Ganesh climbed to Jamicho, a temple (Jamicho) on the top of a mountain in the Naranjan Forestry Reserve.

We climbed 3000 feet within 3 hours and 45 minutes.  So steep that steps were carved out of the earth for much of the way.  Lots of dead leaves to make footing slippery.  I bought a back pack to haul my water and lunch in and found it caused my centre of gravity to be more than slightly off kilter, and the dang thing was heavy!

To this moment I don’t know from where I found the moxy to keep on going to the top.  I was definitely “Lag Along Lynn”. Mind you, Char aND Rach are in their 20’s and Ganesh can lope up the mountains like a goat.

How can one little person sweat out so much water!  My hair looked like I had just stepped out of the shower and rivulets of salty excretions ran into my stinging eyes constantly. But hey, it was only 1 1/2 hours getting down and I only fell twice! I drank at least 3 lt of water but had no need for the loo until back home!

So worth the view from the top!  The entire Kathmandu valley spread out before us. 


It was the following day that my second massage was crucially necessary.  I started with a very stong desire to descend the hotel stairs on my butt, then shuffled, groaned and agonized my way to the spa. Upon seeing a flight of stairs that needed negotiating at the spa,it was only by Herculean mental effort that I forced my screaming leg muscles to function for one more time.


8.  A Day at the Himalayan Buddhist Meditation Centre. Irish Peter and I registered for this whole day experience which started with a yoga practice that left me needing a nap and it was only 9 AM!  A combination of aerobics and yoga at a pace reserved for race horses.

A wonderful vegetarian breakfast was then served in the garden after which we gathered for a 2 hour fascinating talk with a senior monk who took us through some of the basics of Buddhism.

Another fabulous meal for lunch again in the garden.  A DVD was next, then tea break and another Monkly presentation. Tea again and an hour of meditation instruction and practice.  The day ended at 6PM.


9. Teaching Monks.  Let it be known, that 6 to 10 year old boys are rambunctious, noisy, punch each other, yell, run, ignore you and otherwise truly test their teachers whether they wear monk’s robes or not.  Love them? Yes. Do they have angel faces? Yes. Control 20 of them in a class for an hour? No.

But a-ha! I am older, wiser and trickier.  I divide them into 3 groups.  One group gets a pile of crayons, felt markers and colouring books. The other group gets a fascinating picture book to explore and the final group gets  a stack of Scrabble tiles and me.  We read a simple story and have one monklette at a time spell new words with the tiles as they learn what it means.  After 15 minutes (the extent of their attention spans) we change groups and then change again one more time before the class is over and we form our ‘goodbye circle’.

Just wait until I bring them “Shreck” on my computer to watch tomorrow! Dollars to donuts their attention span magically expands to the whole hour!  We will have to watch  it over 2 classes and I’ll bet all will be in position and quiet for the start of the second installment.


10. Garbage Strikes.  I suppose this doesn’t really qualify as ‘funny’, but when you think of it, the fact that at least 6 different factions have to agree on a solution, it could be verrrry long.  In the meantime, one comes across heaps of garbage piled in various areas providing food for dogs, rats, flies and the resultant stink just adds to the soup of olfactory assaults.


11. Beggars Tactics. Soft-hearted foreigners beware.  I’ve already told you about the street kids begging for food money which they use to buy glue to sniff.  Next we have mothers with babes in arms beseeching you for milk.  You should have seen the look on one tourist’s face when she bought milk powder in the store for one such mother and a few seconds later the mother sold it back to the store for money!  No doubt the stores are in kahoots and make their bit of profit too.

One will undoubtedly come across some men who have obvious deformities with their feet or legs and they crawl about the sidewalks in tourist sections begging.  It can be very heart tugging until you ask yourself how does he get to this spot every day?  There are no living quarters.  Then you see one riding in a rickshaw on the way to his ‘sidewalk job’.

Then their is the young person who will walk beside you and ask “Hello Madam, where are you from?” Early in the game I made the mistake of responding and he immediately said “Ottawa is your capital city”.  I was a bit taken aback and he followed with “Ask me any country and I can tell you the capital city”.  Many of my fellow volunteers got caught with this same young man and he actually can tell you correctly.  No one could stump him!  Then, of course, he asks you for money for his ‘performance’.

I must say, beggars, shopkeepers, taxi and rickshaw drivers, etc. are all very polite in their approaches.  It is always with a “Hello madam, excuse me madam, do you remember me madam” as a preface. One day instead of ‘madam’ I got ‘Mother’.  I must have been having an ‘old-looking’ day!



12. Pilgrims Read ‘n Feed. My favorite store!  Two floors of books, Nepali treasures and a veggie restaurant. I keep buying things for my monk students in the way of books, etc. because they have so little.



13. Shreck for the Monklettes. The delighted, fully focused and absorbed faces were a treat to see when I played the movie ‘Shreck’ for my younger class!



14. Electricity. We volunteers could make some good gambling money if we started a daily pool for the time(s) the electricity goes off. I’ve had many a cold-water shower in the dark. And I really couldn’t care less anymore.



15. Riding a Rickshaw. A bumpy ride of course, but the rickshaw owner pulls his ‘carriage’ with his bicycle and the rider gets a bit of a breeze and a good looksee at passing interests.  Great in the rain and very inexpensive.



16. Nasal treats. My highly assaulted smelling capacity became aware of a slight, strange wafting playing around the edges of my nostrils during the walk to the monastery one morning. A memory of ‘pleasant’ awakened when the fragrance intensified. Then a brain memory cell flashed the word ‘JASMINE’ in flashing neon lights!  Yes, from somewhere the phenomenal scent of jasmine traced by on a wayward breeze. Heaven!



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Breakout the popcorn and settle in for entertainment!  Remember, this post was written, but not posted prior to the recent published post so they are kind of backwards as to the dates of their occurrence.  Enjoy!! 
It’s time to venture out.  Our coordinator, Chris, takes us for a lesson on how to maneuver the streets of the Thamel district of Nepal and at the same time shows us some important locations we may need or want to use during our stay.  Best thing he did was provide us with a street map as we were so confused and turned around within the first 10 minutes I felt like hanging on to his shirt tail so I didn’t lose him in the crowd.
First stop and foremost, the medical pharmacy that doubles as a doctor and medicine dispensary.  Simply sling your cut foot on the counter, he takes a look, treats it and gives medicine if needed and you are on your way. They are very good at treating and recognizing the various intestinal problems us foreigners are prone to get.  Listen to Chris on this video giving our new group of volunteers the “It’s not whether, but when you will fall prey” lecture.  (I finally figured out how to post videos!)
Next video is Thamel Chowk (pronounced ‘choke’) and very aptly named.  These chowks are intersections wherein as many as 6 streets can come together. No traffic control and remember ALL traffic, wheeled or on foot, fights for a few inches of progress at a time.  This one is not too bad at the moment, but I have seen them come to a complete gridlock wherein nothing moves, no one will give in and the only movement there is, is a flurry of fists hitting horns. Madness.
The following day Chris takes new volunteers to their placements for teaching.  It appears ‘Boston’ Michael and I will teach in the Bouddha district and we travel there by cab and walk a fair distance thereafter.  Part of that walk is on this video:


My Monastery is up first.  There has been a change of boss monk and things are very vague as to when I am to start or if I am to start. Seems the person we were to talk with is not there even though he said he would be during a phone call that morning. Very common in Nepal. Appointment? Maybe, maybe not.  We leave that hang and go on to Michael’s monastery.  Again person to talk to is not there.  Home again, home again jiggity jog.
After seeing the local public transit (and I use that word veryloosely), I immediately panic when Chris tells me this is the means I will use to get to and from the monastery.  There isn’t room for a shadow on this dilapidated tin can on worn wheels and I am claustrophobic!!  Result?  Chris has now decided to see if he can get me a placement in the Swayambhu area which is walkable and next day he takes me and ‘Irish’ Peter on this ‘walkable’ saunter. Gawd help me.  It feels like 7 to 10 km but I learn later it is only 5, mostly uphill.
Along the way is this daunting staircase. 55 (count ’em) stairs almost perpendicular to the street. The lure is a breeze and a beautiful Jacaranda tree at the top.  First day I needed 2 rest stops, second day 1 rest stop and third day I made it all the way to the top!  Mind you I have bandaids on 6 blisters not to mention the sprained toe done on the first day in class when I smashed it into a chair leg. No shoes worn in class. Still having a challenge with posting pics but will show you the one of the stairs when I fix this.
Walking in Kathmandu.  One must keep looking down for potholes and unmentionables on the street and, one must keep looking ahead, sideways and behind all at the same time or risk being walked over, body checked and at least losing a limb to some form of motorized smog belcher. Then we must also be looking for landmarks to stay on course. I tell you, if I manage to keep both ankles intact I’ll be celebrating. 


Final upshot, I will buddy teach two classes with Peter while Tamsin Lama tries to find me a placement.  Swayambhu area has many monasteries.


The next day we are on our own.  News flash…both Peter and I are direction challenged. More than once we pass the same landmark twice and cross the disgusting river (doubles as a landfill), but we handle it with fits of hysterical laughter.  What else can you do when it is 35 C and the humidity has you wishing you could buy clothes made of absorbent diaper fabric?  I drink 3 to 4 lts of bottled water per day with little urgency for the loo.


More about the bridge over which we must travel to and from class.  I can’t even describe this river, so you must wait for the picture.  As you look at it, imagine limburger cheese, sweaty feet, rotting carcasses, an overfilled outhouse and any other unearthly stink you can think of and mix it all together.  It’s too far to hold my breath so the next best thing is to cover my mouth and nose with a tissue and mouth-breathe. Even the locals are covering faces.  I am told that after a month of monsoon it runs clear, clean and much higher.  Where everything goes I don’t know and do I even want to?


What makes all this worthwhile??? Take a look at Peter and me in the classroom. Monklettes sit on the floor so teacher finds her or himself on the floor much of the time as well. So eager to learn, so attentive, so appreciative. We just love these kids!



On the second day Tamsin Lama invites Peter and I to join in the Puja (pronounced Pooshuh), a ceremony in the Buddhist temple.  Awesome!  No headgear for women necessary.  We are shown how to do the obeisance (three positions of the prayer held hands, then kneel and place forehead on the floor – do this three times).  Now we sit on the floor against the wall during chanting, bells, horns, drums, tea drinking and walking around the temple altar holding incense.  We can take pictures or video without flash, so enjoy!



Within a week Tamsin Lama tells me I can teach a class in the same monastery.  The class is Little Ones and I start right now!  I am transported immediately from the familiarity of our buddy class to another room to be greeted by 5 to 10-year-old’s and I have no idea what to do with them, I’m not prepared.  Then I see their big brown eyes and expectant grins and I immediately drop onto the floor with them and we have a great time for the next hour.  No doubt….I’m in love!


Here is one of my earliest joys…Little Shessy lives on the top floor of the hotel with a family who are part of the staff.  A cross between a polar bear cub and a teddy bear this wee one covers me with puppy kisses and I suddenly my world is upright again.




It gets even better!  More next time. 


Please put your comments, messages and any questions on the ‘comments’ page by clicking the ‘About’ tab above.  They are also sent to my email box so I won’t miss any.



Teacher Lynn






















One thing is certain about life…much as we plan, there is always something around the corner that could knock your plans askew.  Such as this…..I simply cannot solve the problem of not being able to get my videos and pictures onto this blog!!! GGrrrr!



I have a blog entry all typed and ready to go.  All that was left was to upload the pics and videos.  No go.  SO, that being said, I am going to continue to work on that and in the meantime I can at least send you more news and your vivid imaginations can visualize to the max.


 I’m up to my eyebrows in monklettes!  I have two classes in the mornings after I have sweated and puffed my way uphill for most of 5K to the monastery lugging my school books and feeling like a pack mule.  On arrival I am soaking wet and my face is the colour of a profoundly embarassed tomato from the heat and exertion. I’m celebrating today (just starting my third week in Nepal) because I actually had my very first bandaid-less day for my feet!


Irish Peter and I teach at the same monastery (Sangye Goling Gompa) at the same times.  I start out earlier than peter because I like to stroll while Peter strides.  He is tall and lanky (built like my son, Dan and younger than him).  We walk back to the hotel together and discuss our classes, what worked, what didn’t and what was hilariously funny that day.


The monklettes all have colds and barking coughs (change of season from dry to wet) so Irish Peter and Boston Mike both got colds.  I haven’t and the only reason I can give is that I use a hand sanitizer at least 6 to 10 times during every class and keep my hands off my face. 


 My first class is 6 to 9 year olds.  Soooo cute in their little monk robes. They see me coming and hoop and holler “Good morning, namaste” and run into the classroom, set up my chair and tiny table, turn on the ceiling fan (bless them!) and sit cross-legged on the floor in anticipation. Anywhere from 16 to 26 can be in the class.  Completely uncontrollable!  When finished an exercise in their scribblers, they yell ‘finished!’ and swarm me trying to get their book into my hands first to get the much coveted drawing of a star from teacher. All the while hollering ‘Lynn, Lynn, Lynn!’ until I take their book.



After that class and two aspirin, I make my way to an older class of 15, 16, 17 year olds and the change is like rain to sun.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the wee ones. Again, someone runs and gets the board eraser wet, cleans off the board, another dries it and we are off. This class is ready for very basic grammar and is anywhere from 12 to 30+ on any given day.



There is one thing that makes teaching monks a bit different.  They learn all their Buddhist teachings and prayers by repetition memorization.  Thinking for themselves is a foreign concept and sometimes feels like giving birth, just to get a conceptualized answer or response! But we are getting there what with my antics, funny faces and cajoling. They are a great group too.


School aside, I think I’ll share with you some of the things I would never get used to if I lived here until I am a hundred.


1. Spitting.  Everyone spits on the streets! It is considered very normal.  In fact, if they see a foreigner blowing into a tissue they are repulsed by it!  Picture this….a very lovely woman dressed in  a beautiful sari is walking toward you and you are full of admiration.  Then you begin to hear a sound akin to an old junker trying to rev it’s worn out motor.  You look around wondering what this noise is and where it is emanating from.  As she comes closer you realize this lovely woman is the source and you think she must be in distress until she finishes with a drawn out ‘haawwk’ and promptly deposits half a lung at your feet.  Thus the local warning to newby’s “Watch out for the oysters on the streets”.


2. Flying water.  As you dodge traffic and other pedestrians, watch for oysters, doggie do, etc., be ready for a bucket of dirty water to be flung out a shop doorway into the street.


3.  Street children. Due greatly to the political mess in Nepal, many young children (boys) come into Kathmandu to be safe from being kidnapped by the Maoist soldiers in their villages.  They find there is no way to make income and live on the streets.  They  become hooked as glue sniffers and beg for money. We must never give them any and if you give them anything else they will simply sell it for cash to buy glue.


You see these filthy children sleeping on the street on filthy old blankets and most times are cuddled with stray dogs.


4. And that brings me to the street dogs.  My first day walking to the monastery I arrived in tears.  Diseased and injured stray dogs are aplenty. Rabies is known in Nepal so we must not approach or touch them.  But as I look in their eyes I see such misery.  So I have taken not to looking in their eyes and simply give them love and blessings as I pass.


On the other hand there are many pet dogs I see on leashes and others with collars that show they belong to someone. They are as loved and well cared for as those in our western culture.  We have one in our hotel that belongs to a staff family which lives in the hotel.  Her name is Shessy, she looks like a cross between a tiny polar bear cub and a teddy bear.  A pure white fluff ball with bright eyes with whom I have fallen madly in love.  I can hardly wait until I can send you her picture.


5. Horn honking.  Constant, varied squawking.  Absolutely no traffic control in the way of signs or lights.  Honking is considered polite because they are letting you know that they are coming and if you don’t get out of the way be prepared to be road kill.  I am about to buy my own damn horn and blast people and vehicles out of MY way!


This past weekend, Irish Peter and I attended an all-day retreat at the Himalayan Buddhist Meditation Centre.  A quiet oasis just 5 minutes from our hotel, hidden away down a side street.  We did an hour of yoga, were served a wonderful breakfast in a quiet garden, listened to a venerable monk speak on Buddhism, were served a lovely lunch, watched a DVD, had a tea break, another talk by the monk, another tea break, then a meditation practice. A long, but wonderful day from 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM.


This weekend I will finally get out of the city into the real Nepal.  Myself, Courtenay & Rachel (two Aussie volunteers who have just arrived) Irish Peter and our guide, Ganesh, are going on a day trek into a forest reserve and hike to the top of a ‘rise’ which will take about 3 1/2 hours and return (2 1/2 hours). The following weekend we are taking 3 days to go to Pokhara (a must-see I am told), 6 hours by native bus (ho  boy!). I will definitely visit the Peace Pagoda among many other things while there. I will tell you all about these excursions in a future blog.


I shall keep working on the visuals. Stay with me here!


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Last time I left you stranded at the Kathmandu airport with me. Let’s see how we made out.


Wheeling my baggage cart out of the airport I was immediately swarmed by ‘helpful’ taxi drivers.  I kept saying someone was meeting me but as time kept passing with no Chris, they once again offered ‘help’.  Actually one of them recognized the ‘i to i’ company name I kept saying and offered to phone Chris for me.


This was my introduction to the Nepalese mobile phone system.  Most of the conversation consisted of “Hello? Hello? Hello?” only to learn that we were unable to contact Chris. LSS (long story short) I got into a cab which had a slight resemblance to a vehicle, with a driver who insisted he knew where the Student Guest House was and brought his friend to ‘assist’ and off we went.


Two minutes into the journey and the words “Whose great idea was THIS?!” reverberated repeatedly in my brain. If you have any romantic notions of the city of Kathmandu nestled in the heart of the majestic Himalayas, I may ruin them for you…..momentarily.


Roads:  My head hit the roof of the taxi more than once as we made our way over broken, pot-holed pavement, dirt, rocks, gravel piles, pedestrians, motorcycles, bicycles, cars, buses and rickshaws. No sidewalks make the roads fair game for all.  The honking of horns, considered polite as it is a warning you are getting run into if you don’t move, is a constant cachaphony. Add to that the fact that the average width of a road is about two Smart cars wide.





I’m thinking we are driving all the way to Tibet and that I’m at the total mercy of this driver when he stopped dead in the middle of all this chaos, says ‘wait’ and disappears.  Five minutes later, during which I had panicked thoughts gerbil-wheeling in my mind, he reappeared with Chris! Somehow his wife had understood some words through the static of the mobile phone call and he went to the hotel to wait for me.  Suddenly I am a five year old who has lost mommy in the supermarket when she miraculously appears through a throng of people’s legs.  I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath for an hour until I saw him and exhaled!


Dust:  It is not chemical pollution that covers the city in a haze that climbs hundreds of feet into the air, its dust.  Most roads are not paved within the city and none outside the city.  Then there is the lack of rain for months.  Many people wear masks. I have yet to see a mountain through this haze!





I'll never complain about my electricity bill again!

I'll never complain about my electricity bill again!





Smells:  Is there a word to describe the mixed soup of every odor imaginable?  I’ll work on that one.


My Accommodation:  Up three flights of marble stairs Chris and I struggle with my luggage. Not much point in elevators in a country that has no electricity half of the time. I walk into a room that is best described by yourself as you watch the attached video. 






What you don’t see is my room key, a skeleton key from a couple of centuries ago.  In the ensuing days I learn that it will only work when I use my left hand (??), cross my eyes, bite my tongue and pray.  A last ditch solution is to either run down the three flights to get Suresh on the desk or holler for him down the stairs and ask for help. Either one works and I’ve taken to hollering. I realize I must never have to get into my room in a hurry for the bathroom!


I am warned that it takes 3 to 5 minutes for hot water to reach the third floor. Handy tip as I wanted nothing more than a shower. The bathroom IS the shower.  Everything gets cleaned…me and the sink and the toilet and the floor and the walls.  After which I grab my hair dryer and attempt to turn the knob from 110 to 220 volts…no dice.  Now what am I going to do?  I have brought a small screwdriver for another purpose and low and behold it is the right one and the right size to take my blow dryer apart, get the knob in the right place, put it back together again and find it works!  Aren’t you proud of me DB??


I try very hard to make it to dinner with some of the other i to i volunteers from Australia, Switzerland, Boston, England and Ireland, but by 4 PM I collapse into bed and sleep for 15 hours.




The next morning the world begins to become upright again, my balance is restored and with it my good old optimism.  As with everything in life, we can make it hard or we can make it easy and it all begins with how we think.  My choice is made and suddenly everything looks different.  See just how different with my next post!


Monkey Family


Here’s a preview:









A View of Kathmandu

A View of Kathmandu

Kelowna to Calgary, Calgary to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Delhi, Delhi to Kathmandu.  I roughly figure 36 hours on the move.


But let me go back a couple of days. A few moments of panic occurred when a wayward nut set a goal to loosen a crown on one of my molars just 2 days before departure. The thought of a toothache in Kathmandu sent me frantically dialing my dentist and begging to the point of offering a kidney in order to be seen immediately.  Bless her kidney-loving heart, I was in the ‘chair’ next afternoon. Turns out the tooth fractured below the gum line and crown had to be removed. 


The good news is because I had already had a root canal in said tooth, it could remain as is until my return when it will have to be extracted and a bridge installed.  Much as I am grateful to my Canadian dentist, the difference between her cost ($3,500) and my Mexican dentist ($500), my business will go well south of the border next winter when we migrate to Yuma.


Back to flying.  Great start from Kelowna as I sat on the airport floor removing one suitcase out of the other and split the contents between the two all in full view of fellow travelers.  Seems my smart idea caused an overweight problem in the baggage rules.  I tried to explain that I weighed much less than the average passenger which made up for the overage of my suitcase-inside-suitcase brainwave, but the unsmiling face had no sense of humor.


On to the second lap.  The Air Canada aircraft was a new model.  A TV screen in front of each passenger allowed us to choose our own movies, TV shows, audio, etc.  Watched three movies, “The Reader”, “Hotel for Dogs”, “Taken”. Honest, I did try to cat nap but was not successful thus the marathon of movies. I’d have given my other kidney for one of those sleeping pods in the first class area!


 No problems getting around the Frankfurt airport to the Lufthansa departure gates except for the security screening wherein they had a more than particular interest in my travel digital clock which necessitated me being taken to a private area where they examined it further, decided it wasn’t a leftover mine from WW2 and sent me on my way.


Third lap. What was good about Lufthansa? Let’s see….I know, stainless steel cutlery, no snapping plastic forks. Not so good was the fact that I was now spoiled and did not have my own TV.  The passenger list was mostly of Indian ethnicity, understandable as we were on our way to Delhi.  Is it just Indian children or was I plain lucky?  One wee 2 year old darling had the face of an angel and the scream of train wheels executing an emergency braking on the tracks and he was obviously in love with his own voice. For six hours! Seems he was not the only one as we were eventually serenaded by a Delhi Boy’s Choir at full volume near the end of the flight. In spite of this I did manage some catnapping mainly because I had earplugs and had already seen the movie.


Now I’m losing track of time.  The meal, when served, could have been breakfast, lunch or dinner for all I knew, but with all the racket going on I ordered a gin and tonic anyway.  Here’s the difference between an Air Canada G&T and a Lufthansa G&T. No cute little miniature bottle on Luft.  It’s premixed and served with the remaining tonic in the can. Said can was Liliputian in size.  First sip and my tongue went into paralysis while fire exited my nostrils. Definitely no skimping on the gin!  No wonder I finally got some shuteye.


But back to that meal…Chicken Teriyaki and rice.  A sauce over the rice resembled the colour of urine and contained what appeared to be corn and coconut (aghhh!).  Don’t eat the yellow sauce!  Nice chunk of Camembert cheese on the side though.


Arrived Delhi at 2:00 am local time and it was still 34 degrees C. Here is where I have to collect my luggage and make my way to departures and Jet Airlines to check it in.  First, due to Swine flu we have to go through a ‘medical´ clearance. Everyone mobs this poor little guy in his scrubs and masque who is handing out the forms.  Answer the questions on said form, line up at a counter, someone stamps it and it’s on we go. 


Having reached the Jet Airlines counter it is now about 2:30 am and I am greatly looking forward to dropping off the two checked suitcases but find the counter is closed.  Dilemma #1: I’m alone¸ I have a baggage cart that won’t fit through the doorway of the washroom and can’t leave it unattended. Dilemma #2:  I am hot and dying of thirst and have no Indian rupees with which to buy water.  I sit, I wait, I wander dragging my cart around like a bag lady.  I find a money changing booth and am able to get my water.  Oh, did I mention the Indian soldiers walking around with their nasty looking guns?


The Jet counter finally opens up at 5:30 am. In line I strike up a conversation with a couple of other Canadians going to Nepal to volunteer at a medical clinic and an Aussie doctor living in the Philippines. The four of us pass the time while inching our way to the counter.  I place my two suitcases on the baggage weigh-in and am told I am only allowed one piece of baggage. I now picture myself sitting on the Delhi airport floor putting one suitcase inside the other and repacking once again.  However after a discussion including the words ‘thirty hours’, ‘volunteer’, ‘six weeks’ and a third kidney if I had one, the agent accepted my two bags.


Flight is delayed an hour and I have time to do a wash up and a change of clothes in the bathroom at last.  Wander to a coffee counter, a Starbucks knockoff, and figuring I now have to stay awake, order a coffee and confidently hand over my Indian rupees.  Seems they do not have change for that particular denomination and they give me my coffee free! Now why couldn’t the ticket agent be that nice?  Security…again.  The ladies walk through a separate security archway from the men and are then escorted to a screened off area where a female agent gets rather too acquainted with my body parts as she uses her beep wand and her hands to frisk me. All because my watch set off the alarm.  Then another agent removes everything from my carry-on and minutely examines them for 5 minutes.


Arrive in Nepal during a torrential rainstorm.  The first rain in 7 months. Again a Medical check-in, complete an entrance form if you can find one in English and complete a Nepalese Visa form.  Line up at the money exchange, line up at the Visa counter to pay for your Visa ($100 US).  Then line up at the Visa inspection and acceptance counter.  Note you pay for your Visa before you know if you are accepted or rejected!  My turn and I cannot find my passport picture for the Visa.  By this time I am starting to really feel the jet lag and just put my head on the counter while they figure out what to do. I’m the last passenger and alone at the counter.  Eventually they give me the go sign and I find the baggage pickup, grab a cart and race out to find my Coordinator who is picking me up.  He has gone thinking I had somehow missed the flight.


Picture this:  Little ol’ me stranded at the airport in Nepal hanging onto all my worldly goods, jet lagged and abandoned.  Stay tuned for the next installment!  I promise pictures next time.