g adventures Nepal

Nepal: Mt. Everest Flight and Bhaktapur

Posted March 13, 2018 by carol.fletcher@rocketmail.com

Everest and Bhaktapur

The morning after arriving in Kathmandu, we had one final activity planned with most of our G Adventures group tour. We were going on a scenic flight to see Mount Everest and the mighty Himalayas. And we’d spend another couple of hours with the last two of our group, wandering Thamel and riding out to see Bhaktapur.

Mount Everest and the Kathmandu Airport

Along the trip, our G Adventures guide, Khush, talked about the majestic Himalayas and Mount Everest. “Everest is growing. If you want to climb, you must go now,” he said.

Currently at 29,029 feet–nearly five-and-a-half miles above sea level–Everest grows about a half-inch taller each year as the Indian and Asian tectonic plates continue to collide, squeezing and pushing the Himalayas up. At the summit of Everest, there is no step higher in the world. I will never climb Everest. But I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see it. We got up pre-dawn and arrived at the busy airport before coffee.

There was some confusion at the ticket counter. Mistakenly, our group had been split onto two different flights. As we sorted it out, we heard screaming from above–a family of monkeys yelled at each other in the rafters of the airport. Finally, with tickets in hand, we wandered in a sleepy gaggle over to a shop for coffee and snacks. We had about an hour to wait for our flight.

March 12, 2018: Sunrise at KTM, Kathmandu's Tribhuvan International Airport. Nepal. — *March 12, 2018: Sunrise at KTM, Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan International Airport. Nepal.*

Go Time!

As we sat with our coffees and cookies, Bryan headed to the bathroom. Suddenly, after only about 15 minutes, we were called to board. I ran through the airport towards the men’s bathroom. Thankfully, I saw him exiting on the other side of the big room, screamed his name, and he came running.

We showed our tickets, boarded a bus, and were transported out across the tarmac at dawn. It was foggy, hazy, pink. We stopped at a small, pointy-nosed, green and white, two-propellor plane, and began exiting, only to be turned back to the bus. The plane was not ready? The airport wasn’t ready? The fog? It was unclear. But we sat for only five minutes, and then were signaled to exit the bus and board the Yeti plane.

Without further ado, we belted ourselves in–window seats for all!–and the plane began taxiing. The Yeti stewardesses walked the aisle with baskets, offering us cotton balls and hard candy before take-off.

Hello Himalayas!

Within minutes, we were high above Kathmandu, and rising above the fog. We could see snow-capped mountains in the distance. Soon, mountains were all around, oh-so-close to the plane windows. The stewardesses began pointing out the windows on the port side of the plane. We would each be signaled to go for our turn in the cockpit!

In the cockpit, I was blinded by the field of mountains ahead, glistening in the morning sun. The Himalayas! Majestic. Massive. Mysterious. Mind-blowing. Snow-covered peaks, broken by sheer rock sides, dark crevices, deep valleys, and ridges as sharp as knives. I was mesmerized. Already, the stewardess was tapping me on the back, my cockpit time was nearly up. Oh no! I hadn’t even taken a photograph yet! I leaned down between the pilots. “There are many mountains! Which one is Everest?!” I wanted to be sure. The pilot made a V, pointed to the left finger, and said in English, “On right, with trail.” Of course! Instantly I saw Everest, toying with the jet stream like a kid sticking a finger in a water hose. A trail of blowing snow smokes off the top almost continuously. I took three shots from the cockpit before my turn was over.

Mt. Everest in the distance. Flight over the Himalayas. Nepal. — *From the cockpit. Mt. Everest in the distance, with the banner cloud. Flight over the Himalayas. Nepal.*

Mt. Everest--with the wind trail of blowing snow--in the distance. Flight over the Himalayas. Nepal. — After we turned back towards Kathmandu, I got my closest view of Mt. Everest from my seat. The summit sticks into the jet stream, making a near continuous trail of blowing snow. Flight over the Himalayas. Nepal.

Flying over the top of the world, Himalayas, Nepal. — *Flying over the top of the world. The Himalayas, Nepal.*

The 75-minute flight included a champagne toast as we headed back to Kathmandu. We were on top of the world!

Walk in Kathmandu’s Durbar Square

Rachel, Marion, and Khush had left early that day for home (without going to see Everest). The remaining ten of us ate brunch together at Gaia and walked into Durbar Square in the late morning.

This is another thing I enjoy with a good group of travelers, wandering together, but separate. We followed one another in a long strand through the crowded Kathmandu streets. The instigator led us, following a map to Durbar Square. Naturally, the photographers brought up the rear. But we were in visual contact with each other, smiling, nodding, indicating things to see, turns to make. I love this. This independent but shared experience, the camaraderie.

Carrying parcels on the streets of Kathmandu. Nepal. — *Head down, leaning into a headband to carry a load of vegetables through the streets of Kathmandu. Nepal.*

*Red iron work temple door in Durbar Square, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

A temple / stupa near Kathmandu's Durbar Square. Nepal. — *A temple / stupa near Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. Nepal.*

*Bicycle rickshaws wait for patrons. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*The 4-way test of the things we think, say, or do. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Sarees displayed for sale. Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Sarees displayed for sale, among wires. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

The Living Goddess

*The 3-year-old Living Goddess of Nepal lives behind that door. Kathmandu.*

We found the Royal Palace of the Living Goddess, and entered the small courtyard. The Living Goddess, or Kumari, is a young girl picked from obscurity to be worshipped until she reaches puberty.

Eligible girls are from a select caste. She must be in excellent health and must not have lost any teeth. Next, she must exhibit the 32 perfections of a goddess, including “Eyelashes like a cow, very black hair and eyes, a voice clear like a duck’s, and tiny feet and hands.” Her horoscope is considered. Next, her fearlessness and serenity is tested by placing her alone overnight in a room with the severed heads of sacrificed animals. Once a girl meets the criteria and passes the tests, they deem her the embodiment of the goddess and she walks into the palace. It is the last time her feet will touch the ground until she reaches puberty and leaves the palace. During the time the girl represents the goddess, she is carried everywhere.

It is considered very good luck to even glimpse the Kumari looking from the palace windows. At meetings with her, it is auspicious if she is “silent and impassive”. Once the girl reaches puberty, she is retired and the process begins to find a new Kumari. The current Living Goddess was only three-years-old when she was installed in 2017.

A singing bowl

I’ve always loved the singing bowls used in yoga and meditation classes. And I decided to find one while in Nepal.

I stepped into a shop looking for the perfect bowl–a deep tone, not shiny, and a hearty size. The shopkeeper demonstrated how to get sound with a pestle pressed against the outside rim of the bowl, and brought bowl after bowl to sing for me. At last, a rather plain and dark one resonated low and smooth. The sound vibration continued for more than two minutes as we stood silent, listening, smiling.

This bowl was made from nine metals, copper and tin (the bell metals), plus gold, silver, mercury, iron, nickel, zinc, and lead. It had been hand-hammered for its distinct sound, said to be the echoed chants of the monk who made the bowl. The shopkeeper placed the bowl on my palm and handed me the wooden pestle. He demonstrated a flat palm (like safely offering an apple to a horse), pushed my jacket sleeve up my wrist, and motioned for me to give it sound. With his patient instruction, on the third try the bowl came to life. A powerful vibration began on my palm; I felt it before I heard the deep, clear sound growing stronger.

Singing bowls Om Supreme Bud Handicrafts, Kathmandu, Nepal. — *I found my 9-metal singing bowl here. This gentleman is a kind, helpful, and incredibly patient shopkeeper. Om Supreme Bud Handicrafts, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Hindu prayer beads, made from the Bodhi tree. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

The plane crash

In the afternoon, the remaining four of us returned to the hotel to find out that a plane had crashed at Kathmandu’s airport. Forty-nine people were dead. BS-211 had been approaching from Bangladesh and turned the wrong way. Air traffic cleared the runways as the pilot seemed disoriented, nearly flying into the Nepal Airlines hanger and the air traffic control tower. But in a few moments, the plane crashed on open land near the runways, immediately catching on fire from spilled fuel. Miraculously 22 of the 71 passengers survived.

Six of our group were at the airport at the time, waiting for flights home. Thankfully, no one on the ground was injured. Our group only had to deal with was the long delay to reopen the runways, and the small airport ran out of food.

Bhaktapur and the Earthquake Damage

One more of our group left for home, and the final three of us took a taxi to Bhaktapur, a World Heritage Site with a Golden Gate and the 55-Window Palace. The site was badly damaged in an April 2015 7.9 earthquake.

The town of Bhaktapur sits on what once was the main caravan trade route between Tibet and India. In ancient times it was a rich and prosperous town. Known for the palaces, intricate wood windows and carvings, yogurt, and pottery, the town is a fascinating place to wander.

The Golden Gate opens to the Royal Palace’s inner courtyard, a once vast compound until a 1934 earthquake leveled all but a few of its 99 courtyards. Even more walls fell in the 2015 quake. We walked around the complex, admiring the intricate buildings and the diligent re-construction going on. The alleyways and plazas offer many things to see. I think I could have sat around all day, just watching the world go by.

A traditional temple in Bhaktapur, Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Intricate wooden doors in Bhaktapur, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

In Courtyard pool in Bhaktapur. Nepal, Kathmandu. — *In a courtyard pool in Bhaktapur. Nepal, Kathmandu.*

*Streets of Bhaktapur. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Friends. Bhaktapur Square. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Holding back the walls. Bhaktapur, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Broomstick and doorway. Bhaktapur. Nepal.*

*Reconstructing a temple after the April 2015 earthquake. Bhaktapur. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Reconstruction in Bhaktapur. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*The Golden Gate. Bhaktapur, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Bhaktapur Temple, bottom. Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Bhaktapur Temple, steps. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Bricks stacked and organized for reconstruction. Bhaktapur, Nepal, Kathmandu.*

In Bhaktapur's main square. Kathmandu, Nepal. — *In Bhaktapur’s main square. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

A sunny mandala of marigolds and daisies. Kathmandu, Nepal.

And then, there were two

The next day, it was back to just us two. We had a final few days in Kathmandu, before continuing on an around-the-world trip of a lifetime.

Thank you for reading

Select photos are available on Etsy.

Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

Nepal: The Road to Kathmandu

Posted March 11, 2018 by carol.fletcher@rocketmail.com

The road to Kathmandu

After a couple of days in Pokhara, it was time to move on. Kathmandu was the next and final destination for our G Adventures group tour. Seven in our 12-person group decided to fly from Pokhara to Kathmandu. Traffic is notoriously bad on the road through the valley, and the eight-hour drive would leave them little time to see Kathmandu since they had early flights home the next day.

*Our G Adventures Group all together in our Nepal bus for the last time.*

Only five of us, and all of the luggage, on the road to Kathmandu. — *Only five of us, and all of the luggage, were on the bus to Kathmandu, so there was room to stretch out. Here, Bryan, Sophie, and Russ make use of the middle jump seats.*

In Pokhara, we filled up on the hotel’s breakfast of fried potatoes with curry masala (with…is that coriander?), plus hard-boiled eggs, and coffee. And then we loaded up the bus bound for Kathmandu. We dropped the five Brits, the Canadian, and the New Yorker at the Pokhara airport, and the remaining five of us, plus Khush, got back in the bus with ALL the luggage to make the day-long ride to Kathmandu.

There was enough room now for each of us to lay down across a row of seats for a snooze if we’d wanted to. I chose to sit and watch Nepal go by. We stopped for gasoline at a one-pump station (an unmarked pump that sat nearly in the road), bathroom breaks, a little walk to shake our legs, and to buy some oranges, chips, and coffee. Back in the bus, and onward, upward.

Big Scenery, Little Moments

I don’t know what it is about these bus rides, I love them. I could ride forever, watching the world go by. It’s like a movie. Big scenery and little moments glimpsed, in a never-ending stream. I sat, camera-ready, mesmerized by the view.

Was that a bus stop or a stupa? Laundry or prayer flags? Kids walked to school in uniforms–girls in dark skirts to their knees, knee socks, sweaters, and long braids with the biggest, crispest, most perfectly white ribbons. Two boys threw stones at a flinching cow who continued picking in a trash pile. Four people and a dog all stood with their hands (or front paws) on a balcony railing–all looking in the same direction with curiosity. A seamstress sat high above the road working her sewing machine–her work station open to the breeze, the view and the dust.

The road to Kathmandu was rough. Construction, potholes, crooked, and up, up, up. A reminder that we were close to the top of the world. A reminder that this area is earthquake prone. They were still patching damage from a massive quake in 2015.

Sad Cargo

And then we saw a disturbing sight: buffalos tied by their tails and noses, and stuffed into a small truck like sardines for travel on these rough, crooked roads. They could barely move without pulling their noses, tails, or stepping on one another as they shifted from the truck’s motion on the switchbacked and potholed road.

Our driver eventually found an opportunity to pass this sad cargo, these suffering oxen. And as we passed, I could see their eyes shift–they couldn’t turn their heads–to look at our purple bus. Because I couldn’t do anything to help them, I was ashamed to meet their eyes. What cruelty humans inflict on others’ lives.

*A cargo of oxen tied by their tails and noses. On the road to Kathmandu, Nepal.*

To the Heavens

Seeing the oxen dampened my mood. No matter where one goes in the world, there is cruelty and inhumane treatment of animals. Here we were going up, up, up, seemingly to the heavens. And in those moments, I hoped, wished, and prayed so hard that karma exists, and that hell is real and for the people who destroy the earth, harm the environment, hurt each other, and turn animals into a product to eat, wear, or entertain.

As we got higher and higher on this dusty road, the bus went slower and slower. A combination of the steep elevation and the traffic, as we neared Kathmandu.

Reaching the top of mountain, as we near Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Reaching the top of the mountain road, and stopped in traffic, as we near Kathmandu, Nepal. The winding road is visible in the hazy valley,*

The Road to Kathmandu

We crested the mountain and entered another valley. A storm was gathering, a dark cloud sitting on top of us, light coming around the edges close to the ground. The under-construction roads were dusty, muting the colors. This eerie and beautiful dust-diffused light, the stop-and-start bus, headlights and red taillights, and gusting wind made the entry to Kathmandu seem like we were entering a magical realm.

*A school bus on the outskirts of Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Traffic dark sky Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Traffic under dark clouds as we enter Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Traffic and Storm coming. Kathmandu Nepal. — *Storm coming. Kathmandu Nepal.*

*Traffic cop on a pedestal in the middle of the intersection. Kathmandu, Nepal.*

The Story of Swayambhunath Stupa

Along the ride, Khush had been telling us the story of the Swayambhunath Stupa (aka the Monkey Temple) in Kathmandu.

Two thousand years ago, a single lotus flower bloomed in the middle of a lake that filled the Kathmandu Valley. The bodhisattva Manjusri wanted the flower. He cut a gorge in the lake with his sword, draining it. But the magic lotus flower came to rest on top of a mountain and became the stupa. He cut the mountain to get the magic lotus. He cut his long hair which became trees, and his lice became the many monkeys that still haunt the site.

It is said that if you go clockwise around the stupa, ringing the bells and spinning the prayer wheels, that your wish will calculate a thousand times more. As we slowly moved into Kathmandu, I weighed what I wanted to wish that needed that kind of wish rocket-booster.

*Arriving at the Monkey Temple (Swayambhunath Stupa), Kathmandu, Nepal.*

The Heavens Open at the Monkey Temple

Our bus brought us to Swayambhunath Stupa, the Monkey Temple, via the back way (we’d learn later that this side had far fewer steps–the main entrance has 365 incredibly steep steps). The sky was dark as we climbed out, grabbing rain jackets and umbrellas just in case. Minutes later standing in front of the nearly empty stupa, monkeys screamed at each other over a bit of food, and nearly knocked us over scrambling onto a stupa. And the first drops of a very hard rain thundered down.

We raced under an alcove with a handful of tourists and watched others–humans, dogs, monkeys–seek cover. There was a smell of rain, incense, and the little oil and candle flames still flickering in the grottos.

Despite the heavy rain, Carina and I made a run for it. We made our clockwise navigation, arms sticking out from beneath useless umbrellas, hands spinning each of the prayer wheels, ringing the bells between, and whisper chanting our wishes like mantras as we splashed all the way around the stupa. Of course, we were soaked. Dripping. And that was one of the best, most vivid, happy times on the entire trip. Isn’t it funny how the imperfect moments become the most perfect memories?

Let’s hope the rain added a little something extra special for our wishes.

Circumnavigating the Swayambhunath Stupa in the pouring rain, Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Circumnavigating the Swayambhunath Stupa in the rain, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Spinning the prayer wheels around the Swayambhunath Stupa, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Carina photographing me, photographing her…Hiding under a ledge in the pouring rain. Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Dogs scurry to shelter as the rain pours down at the Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Dogs scurry to shelter as the rain comes down. Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*The Swayambhunath Stupa, aka the Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Candles stay lit, despite the buckets of rain at Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal. — *Candles at Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

*Dogs clean up inside the stupa as the rain pours down at the Monkey Temple, Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Rain, Rain, Rain

After our circumnavigation, we ducked into a grotto, and–small world–met some of the others from our group who’d arrived in Kathmandu this morning. We waited together with the dogs in this little cave-like room that smelled of burning candles, smoke, rain, wet dog, sweat, dankness, and mountain air. But it was dry, and filled with laughing, happy people.

The rain hammered down, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. We still had to get back to the bus. After about 20 minutes, we gathered our perseverance and ran laughing out into the rain. The steps we’d come up had become a raging river waterfall, gushing against our calves and flooding our shoes as we hustled down. We splished, splashed, and squished dripping into the bus, quickly fogging up the windows. We shed wet outer layers as the driver cranked the heat to dry us off.

First evening in Kathmandu, Last evening as a group

*Saying goodbye to Khush at the Fuji Hotel in Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Not long after, the bus pulled up in Thamel, a tourist neighborhood in Kathmandu. We said goodbye to the two Nepalese bus pilots and dashed through the rain and wet alleys to get to the hotel.

We checked into the Fuji Hotel and changed into warm, dry clothes. Meeting in the lobby about an hour later, we decided to go across the street to Fusion Kitchen for our final dinner as a group. What an amazing group of people! The G Adventures tour was the perfect itinerary. Our guide, Khush, was the perfect host–knowledgeable, kind, attending to our every question/need, and fun to spend time with. And our group–a unique combination of people who shared a sense of adventure–was the icing on the cake. We could not have asked for a better group tour.

*Last G Adventures Group Dinner in Kathmandu, Nepal.*

Thank you for reading

Select photos are available on Etsy.

Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

Nepal: Barauli Homestay and Chitwan National Park

Posted March 9, 2018 by carol.fletcher@rocketmail.com

Bryan and I were on our way around the world, and for the India and Nepal portion of our trip, we traveled with G Adventures. Part of the G Adventures Nepal itinerary was a Barauli Community Homestay, near the Chitwan National Park. We’d read some reviews of other homestays, and weren’t excited about this type of accommodation. While staying with locals would be lovely if you knew them, we’d read reviews of some homestays that were not great: one guy telling of a crying grandmother sleeping on a corner cot while he was given a bedroom, and another tale of a couple split up to stay with different families. We headed into this location with a bit of reluctance and a mantra of “it’s only two nights”.

So what is a Homestay and why does G Adventures do them?

Barauli is home to the Tharu people, a small indigenous group near the Chitwan National Park. While the park is popular for its wildlife, the Tharu people never enjoyed the benefits of tourism. Limited opportunities for the community led to poaching and deforestation in the park as a means of income. G Adventures and their non-profit arm, Planeterra, worked with the community to build cabins and host tourists, giving the Tharu people a piece of the tourism economy. The homestay program provides job opportunities in the region, and gives travelers a place to stay.

Arriving in Barauli

After about five hours on the road from Lumbini, we pulled into the Barauli Community.

The village women greeted us, standing in rows, beautiful in their traditional white dresses over velvet tops, and carrying pots of flowers on their heads. They welcomed us with smiles, flowers, and vermilion-colored blessing dots thumbed gently on our foreheads. Inside the community room, they served us fresh juice drinks while sorting out our room assignments.

We were surprised to learn that we were not staying with families in their homes. The village has 14 mud cottages for the homestay program. Our cottage, named “Tika”, was clean, spacious, and had a western-style toilet and a great shower. Mosquito nets hung from the ceilings over both of the queen-sized beds, beds which sat about a foot away from the wall. Ah…that was because there were spiders in the loo. We definitely would be using the net!

Our cabin, "Tika", at the Barauli Homestay near Chitwan National Park. — *Our cabin, “Tika”, at the Barauli Community Homestay near Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

Our room, "Tika", at the Barauli Homestay in Nepal. — *Our room, “Tika”, at the Barauli Community Homestay in Nepal.*

Mosquito netting hanging over our beds in our Barauli Homestay, Nepal. — *Hand painting, colorful curtains, and mosquito netting hanging over our beds in our Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Walking Tour

After getting situated, we went on a little tour of the area. Bryan joined the bike ride group, and the photographers among us walked. We walked for over an hour down dirt roads, accompanied by a few curious and friendly dogs. We passed farms, cows (or “buffs” as Khush said), fields of crops, mud houses, and so many smiling people.

As we neared the river and sunset, we smelled marijuana. A large patch grew along the side of the road. And yes, we stopped and picked a little. 🙂

Both the biking and walking groups ended up at the river in time for sunset. Our escort dogs chased hundreds of tiny frogs out of ponds on the beach. Women from the village brought us hot masala tea and cookies. We shared tea biscuit cookie bites with the dogs, posed for a few photos with some locals, and enjoyed the sunset.

Afternoon, walking the cows home. Barauli, Nepal. — *Afternoon, walking the cows home. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Kids running to see us. Barauli, Nepal. — *Kids running to see us. Near Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Ox taking a dip while his shepherd boy waits. Barauli, Nepal. — *Ox taking a dip while his shepherd waits. Near the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Cow tethered through the nose. Barauli, Nepal. — *Poor cow, tethered through the nose. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

A dog on the Gandaki-Narayani-Rapti river system, Chitwan National Park, Nepal. — *A dog on the Gandaki-Narayani-Rapti river system, Near the Barauli Community Homestay in Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

*Sunset on the Gandaki-Narayani-Rapti river system, Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

Cows converse. Riding back to our homestay at dusk. Barauli, Nepal. — *Cows converse. Riding back to the Barauli Community Homestay at dusk, Nepal.*

Fields at sunset. Barauli, Nepal. — *Fields at sunset. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Panorama sunset on a pond. Barauli, Nepal. — *Panorama sunset on a pond. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Village Dance

In the evening, the village women demonstrated three traditional dances. Popcorn sat in decorative baskets between chairs arranged in a semi-circle. The Tharu ladies jingled from bells on their ankles and jewelry in their hair. They wore velvet tops under pristinely white dresses and had little purses tied to their hips. The women gathered in a line while someone explained the dances they would do–one dance included long sticks and the whacking and shielding represented defense. Dance number two used two short sticks and celebrated the harvest. The final dance was one we were pulled into, joining a big circle and trying not to look like fools imitating the ladies’ graceful movements.

Little Tharu man. Baby at Barauli, Nepal. — *Little Tharu man. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

*The Tharu women dance for us. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Drummers and Clappers. Barauli Homestay, Nepal. — *The musicians. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

After the performance and dancing, we ate dinner together in the community room–another delicious Nepalese Thali set, yum! And in this quiet rural place, we played cards until bedtime. We slept like babies that night under our mosquito net—exhausted and dusty, somewhere in the middle of Nepal.

A morning walk

I woke up before dawn and went out on our porch. A rooster tried to rally in the distance. I heard nothing else. A grand silence. It was a painful hour or so for this early riser waiting for coffee. But my, what peace. Later, after coffee, breakfast, and wifi in the main building, we took another walk through the village. Highlights this time: four-day-old baby goats, not much bigger than our hands. A silent parakeet in a tiny cage stared at me from a farmhouse porch, surely asking me to open his cage. I hate seeing any animal in a cage, but find it particularly cruel to cage a bird. I will see that bird’s eyes forever.

Khush had been suggesting we hold our laundry until we got to the homestay, as they could use the income. When we came back from the walk, all of our laundry hung on the dusty road to our room.

Khush telling us about Nepal on a morning walk in Barauli. — *Khush telling us about Nepal on a morning walk in Barauli Community Homestay.*

Green house and door. Rural Barauli, Nepal. — *Typical house and door. Rural Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Goats and sheets. Barauli, Nepal. — *Goats and laundry. Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Our laundry hanging to dry in the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal. — *Our tour group’s laundry hanging to dry in the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Safari in Chitwan National Park

Later in the day, we went for a safari ride in Chitwan National Park. The park is known for rhinos, a variety of birds, and Bengal tigers (!). We loaded into a very high truck, open on top with seats and roll-bars. In this hummer-jeep safari truck, we went off the main road, crashing through a creek, before following a bumpy trail through grasslands. A local wildlife expert accompanied us, and he whacked a stick on the truck to signal the driver to stop when he spotted something. Because of his sharp eyes, we saw colorful birds high in the trees, peacocks showing off on the ground, a giant white crocodile across the river, monkeys screaming at us from above. We stopped several times to climb out and walk, first at a ghat and later at a watch tower. After a few hours, we headed back to the homestay.

*Looking for wildlife on the Gandaki-Narayani-Rapti river system. Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

*Bird crossing a long road in the Chitwan National Park. Nepal.*

Serendipity

But Emily realized she’d lost her watch. First, we searched the truck. Nothing. The watch was important to her and expensive, so we turned the truck around to go back to the river for a look. Luckily, she spotted her watch glinting in the tall grass not far from where we turned around. Khush hopped out to get it. Only then did we see big safari action…an elephant was coming our way!

An Elephant and a Rhinoceros

This elephant carried three adults and a child, and crossed the trail right in front of us. They were on the trail of a one-horned rhinoceros, who was close by. Our truck driver stopped and cut the engine. We could hear the rhino chewing in the high grass next to us…just the sounds of the rhino chewing, a distant bird calling, our fidgety movements, and an elephant breathing. The “driver” led the elephant into the grass, to flush out the rhino, getting dangerously close. The rhino ran from the grass, and we saw him across the trail ahead of us–still chewing, and now breathing heavily.

As the rhino moved on, the elephant stopped close to the truck. His trunk busily picked stems, rolling them up into his mouth. Another eye I’ll remember forever–his giant golden-brown eye was the size of my hand. His skin like leather, wrinkled and creased, faded all shades of gray with a peep of delicate baby pink in some places. And I felt sorry for him. Elephants are social, they need their families, their matriarchs. They remember. And here atop him sat three pasty-white tourists and a driver, urging him to chase a rhino. Animals are not here for our amusement. Please don’t ride the animals. Just don’t.

*Grassland plains in the Chitwan National Park. Nepal.*

Tourists on an elephant. Chitwan National Park. Nepal. — *Please don’t ride elephants. Tourists hang on as the driver runs the elephant into the tall grass to flush out a one-horned rhinoceros. Chitwan National Park. Nepal.*

A one-horned rhino in Chitwan National Park, Nepal. — *A one-horned rhinoceros in Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

The Smiling Nepalese

When we left Chitwan National Park that night, riding high-up in an open-air jeep, kids ran to the road from fields and houses, waving and screaming “BYE!!!” at the tops of their lungs. Our group vigorously waved and screamed “Bye!!!” back. This went on for miles and miles. Such beautiful, friendly people. What great fun!

"BYE!" Children scream and wave, near Chitwan National Park, Nepal. — *“BYE!” Children scream and wave, near Chitwan National Park, Nepal.*

Soccer field, kids yelling "bye!". Near Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal. — *Soccer field, kids yelling “bye!” Near Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Boy and mom on bike red coat Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal. — *Sharing the bike and the road to the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

*Sunset and a motorcycle in the dust of the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

*Boys saying goodbye at the Barauli Community Homestay, Nepal.*

Thank you for reading

Select photos are available on Etsy.

Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

Everest and Bhaktapur

Mount Everest and the Kathmandu Airport

Go Time!

Hello Himalayas!

Walk in Kathmandu’s Durbar Square

The Living Goddess

A singing bowl

The plane crash

Bhaktapur and the Earthquake Damage

And then, there were two

Thank you for reading

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

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The road to Kathmandu

Big Scenery, Little Moments

Sad Cargo

To the Heavens

The Road to Kathmandu

The Story of Swayambhunath Stupa

The Heavens Open at the Monkey Temple

Rain, Rain, Rain

First evening in Kathmandu, Last evening as a group

Thank you for reading

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

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So what is a Homestay and why does G Adventures do them?

Arriving in Barauli

Walking Tour

Village Dance

A morning walk

Safari in Chitwan National Park

Serendipity

An Elephant and a Rhinoceros

The Smiling Nepalese

Thank you for reading

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

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