First Few Days

Nepal 2011

Sunday February 27, 2011

3:17 AM

What time is it? Apparently, it’s 8:19 here, but to me it feels like a bad call night. Trip over was relatively uneventful with the exception of an 11 yr old boy with a headache. Luckily, there were two MGH physicians on board. Unluckily, there was no otoscope to take a look in his ear that seemed to hurt.  Airlines seem to put more of an emphasis on ACLS meds than evaluation and treatment of pediatric otitis. Alas, I think he’ll live. Both the family and crew seemed very appreciative of our help, and when I woke up from one of my very short naps there was a bottle of Robert Johnson Chardonnay at my feet. Not being much of a white wine drinker I passed it along to the passenger next to me, who seemed pleased with the good fortune. 

There was a beautiful sunrise over the UK as we pulled into Heathrow.  The airport here is enormous. There is a large duty-free mall in the terminal that would get Charlotte pretty excited, and, So far, the only picture I have taken is of the Jimmy Choo storefront to show her. 1 leg down, 2 to go. 

8:06 PM

Ok, I’m switching over to local time here in Bahrain. I think the bad call night analogy was appropriate but my general ill feeling has progressed to a level more reminiscent of a mild hangover. I’m definitely dehydrated and a little hungry but my system is seriously out of whack right now. The flight here was fine - far from a full flight so I could actually stretch out a little bit. This allowed for sleeping the majority of the flight with the exception of the pasta dinner that was served at 9:00AM local time and 4AM my time. Didn’t really feel right but probably would have had a beer been served with it. 

Charlotte and I just attempted our first international Skype call. Apparently the internet here is a bit slow because there was a serious delay during our conversation and I couldn’t see her face for the majority. I hope this isn’t a harbinger for future Skype difficulty. I really have my hopes up for using to communicate. 

Leaving this AM was seriously difficult. Much more so , than I had originally anticipated. Our good-bye on the sidewalk outside of Logan was so brief and sudden. It’s probably for the best, because any longer and I think it would have been harder to leave. I’m getting more soft and emotional in my old age. 

Bahrain is an interesting place. Maybe it’s because I’m in the airport and there is much more cultural mixing here, but this place feels very westernized. I’ve been sitting in a Costa Coffee Co. for the last few minutes where I ate some sort of hard cheese/tamponade sandwich and have been listening to US Top 40 music. Seems strange in comparison to the women next to me jamming away in Arabic and wearing burkas. 

Monday Feb 28, 2011

12:10  AM 

After feeling pretty good for a while after my cheese sandwich, I’m feeling rough again. I bought a delicious chocolate brownie (tasted like Toblerone in a slightly more cake-like format) just so I could  get a bottle of water with it. The dessert just hasn’t picked me up the way I had hoped. The exchange rate here is pretty poor but prices don’t seem too far off from the standard airport gouging in the states. 

Also contributing to my ever worsening travel hangover is the difficulty I’m having changing my return flight. The closest yet came here just a little while ago. With the help of Farah, the local arabic gate administrator, who likes my first name (William),  I found out that it will only cost $600 to vacate Nepal 7 days earlier than originally intended. Farah did go far out of her way to assist me despite the hoards of people from Malaysia, who were arriving to find that they had missed their connection and wouldn’t have another one until tomorrow. Her bright white smile and fingers dripping with diamonds  reminded of the wealth that I suspect is pretty common around here. 

Just another hour and a half to go ‘til boarding for Kathmandu....  Never mind.....flight delayed. Make that two and a half.

12:10  AM 

Maybe it’s sleep deprivation, but suddenly paying $600 dollars to avoid spending an extra week in Kathmandu by myself makes a whole lot of sense. Of course, that isn’t counting the whatever extra it’s going to take to get me from London back home. Women in giant, baggy burkas with only their eyes exposed are also starting to look attractive, so I suspect that my thought processes are very, very muddled right now. Here’s hoping the hospital will cover the flight change. It is all in the name of research.....right?

5:28 AM

Nice sunrise from the plane this morning. Looking down outside (Somewhere over Northern India?) it looks like a wasteland. Reminds me of flying over the Grand Canyon region or Southern Utah. The   plane is surprisingly full, and most of the passengers appear to be late 20-40 yo Nepali males. None of them speak English, so I haven’t been able to ascertain from where they are returning. There also appear to be a fair number of trekkers, judging by the zip-off hiking pants, backpacks and fleece jackets, most of whom are speaking European languages. The French lessons paid off when the crew brought around our visa applications. I didn’t have a pen and the couple didn’t know how to answer the questions. Between their broken English and my very broken French we were able to get the forms completed. 

The closer we get to Nepal the more anxious I become. Mainly 3 things are bothering me: 1) Is someone from the HRA going to meet me to help get me to the hotel? 2) Am I going to be able to negotiate my enormous bags through the airport, customs, etc? 3) Are the customs people going to confiscate my research meds?. I’m supposed to enter the country under a tourist visa and then apply for the work visa later, but it’s pretty hard to disguise two bags full of pills and a bunch of research forms. I guess if I have to choose between having difficulty obtaining my visa or being arrested for smuggling “drugs”, I choose the former.

Mountains outside are getting bigger and land a little greener. Must be getting close...

Tuesday Mar 1, 2011

4:28 AM

I stayed awake as long as I possibly could yesterday after arriving but that only got me to about 4PM. After 12.5 hours of sleep I’m feeling pretty good, except it’s o’dark thirty outside and wandering the streets of Kathmandu alone at this hour doesn’t seem like a great idea. 

Yesterday afternoon’s events went much smoother than I had anticipated. Customs consists of a guy checking your bag tags with you receipt to make sure you aren’t taking someone else’s bags out of the airport. That in combination with applying for my visa took about 15 minutes. Transportation was smooth as well, thanks to the HRA rep who met me at the airport. I am so thankful for that because by the time I arrived I was so tired I couldn’t remember where I was going.

Driving to the hotel was a bit of an adventure. It’s just like the pictures of SE Asia that you see on TV - a combination of motorcycles, pedestrians, rickshaws, small cars and small trucks all seemingly converging on the exact same narrow piece of pavement in an effort to get to their destination. Most of the motorcyclists and many pedestrians wear masks to help filter out the exhaust. There are definitely not emission laws here, which results in smog so thick it’s almost difficult to see the horizon from in town. 

After throwing my bags down in the Hotel Marshyangdi and firing off a few emails to let the homefront know I’ve arrived fully intact, I decided to try to make my way over to the HRA office to check in. The directions I had been given consisted of: “Go straight down this road, then a little left, then a little right and you’re there”. Maybe fatigue interfered with my understanding but once out on the road, it was clear I was not going to get close. I walked around for maybe an hour then realized that the chances of me getting very lost were far greater than the possibility of finding the office. Walking down one street I found myself boxed in by several men in long orange gowns. One reached in a bucket, dipped his finger, and placed a bright red smudge on the center of my forehead. Despite my efforts to duck, I found myself dotted. Then came their chants of “money, money, money”. I reached in my pocket and gave them a coin, feeling like such a tourist. After walking a few more blocks it occurred to me that I hadn’t acquired any coins in Nepal, so I probably gave them a Bahrain Dinar....oops. At that point I knew my stealth tourist skills were not working and it was time to return to my island of safety at the hotel. Back at the hotel, I made it three sentences into my book on basic spoken Nepali before I passed out cold. 

Now I’m looking forward to a fresh new day. So far this morning I’ve managed to write a little journal entry, do a little stretching and my morning crunches. Too bad my room is so small that there  is no way to practice yoga. What I really want to do is run, just waiting for the sun to come up. 

Tuesday Mar 1, 2011

7:41AM

After a few hours of dinner and drinks last night, the group seems to be coming together pretty well. Too bad they’re all going to Manang and I’m going to Pheriche. However, There is still the mystery of Bill who,  apparently, no one has heard from. Maybe I’ll be holding down the Pheriche aid post solo. 

We decided to have dinner at a local place called Rumdoodle, which is the title of a British parody about mountaineers who “accidentally” climb to the summit of the 40,000 and 1/2 ft peak of the same name. It is a tradition for Everest climbers to party here and write their names on the walls after reaching their objective. You definitely get the impression that people throw down here on the right occasion. On this Tuesday night it was pretty slow, however. Food was good and the company better. Unfortunately, due to my jet lag I was fading fast around 8PM, or maybe it was my standard 8PM drowsiness. I think I’m almost on the schedule here, th0ugh.

This morning, I got up early in an attempt to catch the soft morning light for some good pictures. Light turned out ok, but when you’re the only westerner on the streets in the morning, you get completely inundated with requests from passersby to ride in their rickshaw or taxi. “Monkey gardens? Temples?” they ask over and over. Even though I tried explaining repeatedly and slowly that I’m walking and don’t need a ride, there would soon be a gathering of drivers competing with each other for the business of a non-buying customer.The result for me was a handful of poorly focused, hastily taken shots. Back to the hotel to eat breakfast and review my Nepali lessons.