Working the Tourists in Kathmandu - Nepal

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Working the Tourists in Kathmandu
Nepal
On my trip around the world, one of my favorite destinations was Kathmandu, Nepal. I was traveling with Gulf Air from London to Kathmandu via Bahrain, Saudi Arabia. If you're traveling with Gulf Air, be sure you re-confirm your flight or else they'll cancel your ticket. I had trouble getting through to confirm but finally managed it. Lucky me. In the check-in line at London's Heathrow airport, a looped tape played about confirming three days prior to a flight to avoid its cancellation. The women working for Gulf Air had on unusual costumes reminiscent of "I Dream of Jeannie."

I don't have any complaints about Gulf Air. The seats were comfortable and there were television screens on the back of the seats. The lay over in Bahrain was interesting. It was the first airport I've seen that had prayer rooms. Unfortunately, the connection to Kathmandu was delayed by about four hours. That meant that I'd be into Kathmandu around midnight. I was afraid the place where I'd made reservations, The Kathmandu Guest House would give my room away thinking I wasn't going to show up.

Getting into Kathmandu airport was an experience. There was a bit of chaos as the tourists scrambled for the proper forms to complete in order to enter the country and purchase a visa. I got the exact amount of the visa purchase price in U.S. dollars, which helped expedite my entry.

I hadn't arranged a ride to the Kathmandu Guest House ahead of time because I thought I'd arrive in town much earlier in the evening. I was afraid there wouldn't be any transportation available at midnight. The reality was the absolute opposite. There was a throng of people outside the airport, all shouting at the same time. Most were yelling, "Taxi, Miss! Taxi, Miss!"

The guidebook suggested only accepting rides from drivers with bona fide cabs and working meters, but to verify this among all the yelling people would have been a formidable task. I ended up nodding "Yes" to a man who yelled louder than the rest. He went to carry my bags for me, and another man tried to grab them and was bumped away by my guy. We walked through a bunch of parked cars to a private car.

It turned out my driver didn't own a taxi at all. We got in, and I told him to take me to the Kathmandu Guest House. He asked if I'd booked there because he had a friend with a nice hotel. I said yes, I'd booked, and we started out. I tried to put on the seat belt, but it wouldn't pull out. The man said, "Seat belt, no problem. No problem." I assumed he meant that the seat belt didn't work and I should not worry about wearing one. I truly wish I could have worn one when I saw the gaping potholes in the roads. It was worse than New Jersey. He dodged them the best he could.

The man continued to talk rapidly in heavily accented English. He seemed to be indicating points of interest along the way, which I couldn't see in the dark. Every once in a while he'd say, "I will be your guide the entire time you are here in Kathmandu." No matter how many times I told him I didn't think I'd need a guide, he reiterated that he'd be my guide. I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, so I stopped trying to convince him.

When we got to the Kathmandu Guest House, the driver came in with me and insisted he get my room number, so he could come pick me up every day. He was very insistent and leaned over the counter to be sure to get my room number, but the Kathmandu Guest House had given my room away, and they were completely full. They said they might have a free room the next morning.

All I could think to do was have this driver take me to his friend's hotel for one night. We got there, and the gate was closed. He honked his horn so much, I thought he probably woke the entire neighborhood. Someone finally came out to open the gate. The hotel lobby looked OK, but as we went up some stairs toward the rooms, an overpowering stench of mildew hit my nose. It was difficult to get the driver to leave.

He sat in my room with a very happy countenance, assured he'd gotten himself a job as guide for my five-day stay. He asked when he should pick me up in the morning, and without thinking, I said, "Um, nine?" He looked kind of sourly at that suggestion, so I quickly said, "Ten, eleven?" He agreed to eleven. I realized my best plan was to set a late hour to meet him and sneak off to the Kathmandu Guest House before he returned the next day.

I struggled out of the mildewy sheets the next morning at nine and left. The hotel clerk who checked me in the night before and knew my driver, gave me a wild look as he saw me leaving so early without waiting for my "guide," but he really couldn't say anything as there was a nice woman proprietor helping me check out.

The sight of Kathmandu in the sunlight was glorious. It was bustling and noisy, and the shops displayed beautiful crafts in bright colors. Two cab drivers fought briefly over who would take me to the Kathmandu House Guest, and as I got into the one that I'd seen first, I noticed what the other cabbie had been saying. The cab I was in had a broken meter, one of the things that guide books warned me about. I didn't care. After the persistent man in the private car the night before, I was glad to have made my escape. The price of the cab was less than the starting price of just getting into a New York City cab.

Someone had checked out of the Kathmandu Guest House that morning. For 25 dollars a night, I got a room with a private bath overlooking a small garden. There was even a writing desk and closet. It was clean with no smell of mildew. Hooray! I took a shower first – my last one was two days earlier. I made sure not to let the water get near my mouth, using an antibacterial lotion afterward.

The Guest House provided boiled/filtered water free for the guests, as well as internet service, money exchange, tour purchases in the lobby, a restaurant, a gift shop that sold stamps, among other things. It was also located off the main street down a driveway which rendered it peacefully quiet. I will definitely stay there again on my next visit to Kathmandu.

My guide book recommended KC's Restaurant for reliable food made only with boiled/filtered water. I ended up going there every night. The pizza and the brown rice with peanut sauce were really great.

At the end of my five-day visit, I would be off to Hong Kong via Bangkok on Royal Nepal Airlines. I was told I must visit the airlines office in Kathmandu in order to have my ticket re-confirmed before going to the airport. I decided to get that out of the way first and took a fun ride in a motorized pedi-cab to the office. I believe the motorized pedi-cabs are the chief reason for the bad air pollution in the city because they spew the most horrid black exhaust out of their tail pipes.

After a half hour of standing in the wrong line, then 15 minutes in the correct line (there were no signs or personnel available to tell one where to line up), I got my airline ticket validated and re-confirmed.

The city is somewhat small, therefore I was able to walk to almost all of my destinations. I started with the closest stuppas (temples) and worked my way out. The best was the Swayambhunath Stuppa which the locals dubbed the "Monkey Temple" because of the macaque monkeys that live on the grounds. I thought I could walk there, but I quickly lost my way as many streets are unmarked. An older man with a bicycle pedi-cab saw me looking at my map and convinced me that I'd be better off riding.

I am glad I did take him up on the ride, because as we went a bit farther we saw a dead dog by the side of the road. It looked as though maybe it'd been poisoned. I was relieved I didn't have to walk by it, then I was even more glad as we then passed a pile of dead dogs, then another pile and another. I must have seen about 35 dead dogs. If they were exterminated for the sake of public safety, why weren't they removed from the side of the road? They were put in very neat piles only, as if awaiting the trash collector.

The bicycle pedi-cab driver let me off at the steep hill that led to the Monkey Temple. On the walk up, I encountered two boys who ran up to me with their hands outstretched saying, "Hello. Hello." I showed them some money and promised it to them if they'd pose for a photo.They obliged and ran off with the money and bought chewing gum from a local merchant.

The climb to the top of the hill and the steps up to the temple had me out of breath, but the view was spectacular. I could see the entire Kathmandu valley from up there. The monkeys were milling about looking for food. The babies were really cute. I traded my plastic gorilla key chain to a small boy who asked for it, in exchange for him posing for a photo.

One evening I was not hungry enough for a full dinner, so I decided to go to the local bakery for a croissant. As I went to enter, three boys jumped out in front of me and frantically said, "Hello! Hello!" and pointed inside the bakery. I asked them, "Do you want me to get you something?" They ran to the corner of the bakery window and pointed at the chocolate eclairs saying, "Hello! Hello!" One boy held up three fingers. I said OK and went in. I took up a tray and tongs and went to the eclairs.

The boys were outside the window watching my every move as I put the eclairs onto the tray. They jumped up and down in jubilation with their hands in the air as I put the third one on the tray. It was one of the most priceless things I've ever seen. I took my croissant out of the bag and handed over the eclairs and with one more, "Hello! Hello!" they ran down the street. I ate my croissant as I walked and I found them sitting in front of a closed shop front, eating. They continued to say, "Hello! Hello!" over and over as I passed by until I was out of earshot.

On my last day, I was walking down the street and a young boy asked, "Where are you from, ma'am?" I said, "The U.S.", and he said, "Washington, D.C. is the capitol of the U.S. Ask me any country, any country, and I'll be able to tell you the capital." I told him I didn't know the capitals of countries, so I wouldn't know if he was correct or not.

He then told me he wasn't going to ask for money but for a box of powdered milk that would feed his family for a month. I didn't have too much Nepalese currency left, but I didn't think a box of powdered milk would be expensive. Well, I didn't know how huge the box would be. It was the size of a large box of detergent and cost about the equivalent of 12 American dollars. I exchanged more money.

A few minutes later another boy came up to me and asked the same question. I'd only had a suspicion about the first boy, but the second confirmed that this was some sort of scam. When I told him I wasn't interested, he walked away disappointed, in search of a new tourist.

There is an airport exit tax that is paid in Nepalese currency, so I advise saving some money for this. The airlines won't let you check in without the tax-paid receipt.

On the plane, the pilot told us that we could see Everest. There were many tall peaks that topped the clouds. I was glad I'd been able to see Everest briefly, even if I wasn't sure which peak it was. The couple sitting next to me had taken three trips in a small plane around Everest, but each time they paid nothing for the flight because the visibility was about zero. They were pleased to see it from the commercial flight.

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