Well I flew out of Kathmandu on April 29 on the long flight to London via Bangkok (which actually makes the journey longer and further). When I arrived in Bangkok I realised how long it might take me to adjust to modern technology, the western pace and the luxuries that we have on a daily basis that we tend to take for granted. The first thing that blew my mind was the sensor activated hand basins in the toilets at the airport. Only two weeks early I was washing my laundry under the pump. The realisation of the difference of the quality of life was overwhelming. This continued on in London where I was regularly over-stimulated and needed to seek out some quiet time somewhere to cope.

I caught up with Emma at her home in Blackheath. A massive, what seems like half mansion which she shares with several other girls. Blackheath is walking distance from Greenwich and a short train ride to Charing Cross Railway Station at Trafalgar Square. The housemates were great, and nearly all of them were teachers in London. 

Through a stroke of luck and coincidence, I managed to catch up with Katrina who I worked and traveled in the US with in 2003 (at the same Summer Camp I am working at this year). It was great catching up over lunch and talking about travels and mutual friends. Katrina had visited Australia in 2005 and I visited London in 2006 so it has been quite a while since we have caught up.

On my way to meet up with Katrina, my sister Evonne called with the news of Mum's scooter accident which came as a bit of a shock. We Skyped when she got back from the hospital and seemed to be in high spirits despite looking like she went ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

During the days I would do my own thing: sight seeing etc, and at night I would catch up with Emma and Rhiannon. Rhiannon is living in Stratford near the Olympic Stadium a bit further out but not that far from Emma's. Both girls are working as teachers; seem to be doing well but told stories of the accountability measures in place. Inspectors visiting their classrooms, principals checking their correction and their students’ homework schedule. The reprimands in place to ensure that teachers are working to an appropriate standard seemed overwhelming. Both said they were looking for alternative jobs as teachers (or not) but it is difficult finding work that pays well enough to fit the lifestyle they are looking for. Either way they are enjoying their time in London and seem to be keeping well and in Rhiannon's case entertained.

We went on a Harry Potter walking tour which included Gringotts, Diagon Alley, Platform 9 3/4 and various other places of interest or which provided Joanne Rowling with the inspiration behind the locations of her stories. We also visited Brighton for my beach fix and checkout a few things around there, which made for a nice day out. The beach was a pebble one which was most disappointing.

I spent a day in Oxford checking out the University College and went on an Oxfam walking tour there. Again Harry Potter got a mention, as the Christ Church Cathedral was the set for the Hogwarts' Great Hall in all the Harry Potter movies. It was an interesting time to be in Oxford as several students had final exams and were partying up after they had finished. I saw some students in their Oxford gowns completely egged and flour bombed and staggering the streets with their open bottles of champagne in hand.

From there I headed to Dublin on a BMI flight out of Heathrow. I met up with Brendan also from Camp in 2003 in Dublin and I stayed at his parent’s house in Lexilip, a village in the suburbs of Dublin. It was nice to stay in a home rather than share accommodation or a hostel. It was great and his parents are also real Irish characters and are lovely people. I went to the local doctor there who was equally as comical for my pre employment medical, which I must post to the US today.

I went on a four day Paddywagon tour of South Western Ireland, which included the towns of Killarney, Cork and Dingle. We visited the Blarney castle and kissed the Blarney Stone, which is probably the biggest con ever by the way. We toured the Dingle peninsula which reminded me of the Great Ocean Road and earlier the Cliffs of Mohar which was magnificent. The tour also took me to the Guinness brewery, which provided some spectacular views of city of Dublin. Then Brendan and I were just in pubs for the rest of the time once I got back.

Ireland along with the UK, are in recession. Katrina told me of the situation in her workplace and the climate that people were required to work in in the UK. The Olympics development probably created some jobs and disguised the recession in London. In Ireland though, pubs have closed indefinitely people in their 20-30s are nowhere to be seen because they cannot afford to spent money either that or they have moved overseas in search of work and better working conditions. Signs of the recession are everywhere. Spaniards are moving here in droves in search of low paid work. Spain has a 25% unemployment rate.

Off to Canada tomorrow. Some Candadians have convinced me to see Ottawa. So the agenda is Montreal, Quebec City, Ottawa and then Toronto. From there I fly to NYC on the 8th of June and then start at the Camp next day.

Less than a month and I will be back at camp.

 

The orphanage itself is a two-room hut built of mud over bamboo foundations like many of the buildings around here. It is a hot box during the day as a result of its uninsulated tin roof. inside it is a bare concrete floor. It is managed by the "Mummy", her real name Santa (pronounced Sunta) and her mother lives there too. It is at the end of the main street meaning tourists regularly pass on foot, by jeep, on pony carts or on ox drawn hay carts. Either way it is a good spot to be and occasionally tourists drop in to give the children stationary, lollies, food or packs of cards.

Recently the orphanage was given a TV by a wealthy family from Kathmandu. So the children are now able to watch free Indian cable. The mother and Dolman love the Hindi soaps which is painful for the rest of us. We entertain ourselves silently while pulling expressions of tragedy, romance, grief and despair as revelations in the plot unravel.

The orphanage children and the mother are Christian but their denomination is not clear. I think it might actually be a made up form of Christianity. No religious ceremony marked the Easter weekend.

There are four children at the orphanage. Suslia who featured in the first video has returned to her family recently. The boys share a bed and the girls sleep share a bed and sleep across it rather than lengthways. The beds each have  mosquito net and all the children sleep in the one room. The mother and grandmother sleep in the other room where the meals are prepared.

Dolman is in class 5 and is 10 years old. Her parents are both alive but cannot afford to keep her. To my knowledge she is an only child. Dolman’s father became blind as an adult and could not provide his family with an income. She is a resourceful and independent child. Dolman has not taken to me like the other children have, but I think as a result of her age and experience in the orphanage she knows not to get too close to the volunteers. I think she realizes that it is easier to say goodbye if you keep your distance. When the others aren’t around she is happy to come and hold my hand or give me a hug though. Dolman’s totem is the butterfly.

Sara is an adorable girl of 9 years old and just graduated into cClass 3 at school. She is the one pulling the “It won’t happen overnight, but it will happen” pose in the video as she washes her hair. Both her parents are alive and she has an older and younger brother. The father abandonded the family and her mother could not afford to keep the family afloat financially and with the three children she opted to give her daughter away as a result. It is not uncommon to shaft the girls because it is the boys who bring in the income when they are older. It doesn't pay to be a girl in Nepal. Despite this she is one of the most active and fun kids to be around and is always disappointed when I leave. She is a poser and often fights to hold my hand when we walk to the Rhino statue in the middle of the village. Sara’s animal totem is the monkey.

B, like Sara had his father abandon the family and was placed in an orphanage. I found out yesterday that his younger sister will soon join him at the orphanage. He also has a massive scar running from his left temple doen behind his ear to the top of his neck. I haven’t ask how he got the scar. The scar is as wide as my little finger and his hair doesn’t grow in it. B had the opportunity to go and visit his extended family for about 5 days. Immediately before and after that experience, his behaviour changed. He became solemn, easily upset and quiet all day. He often sat with his head on my legs drawing figures of 8 on my knees with his fingers, not saying anything. He became solemn, easily upset and quiet all day. He often sat with his head on my legs drawing figures of 8 on my knees with his fingers, not saying anything. He is probably the most clingy out of all the children, likes to whisper and is in constant need of physical contact. 

Finally, Ishak is the only true orphan at the orphanage. He has extended family but he is more or less on his own. He is in class 5 and is turning 12 this year. He uses his English a lot, trying to explain what happening in the Hindi programs or the significance of a festival. He is a character, loves an audience and pulls out this crazy little dance when he gets excited. He makes silly noises at me with open arms and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. He like all children is extremely ticklish and has the funniest giggle and the broadest grin of well looked after teeth. He bosses the other kids around partly because he is older and being male. He loves wrestling and is definitely a fighter not a lover. He is an architect of mischief and gets away scot free most of the time.  Reminding me of the donkey out of Shrek, he was given the Donkey totem.

As you saw in the video, the children bathe under the well pump. There is no private bathroom and this pump is also shared with all the neighbours and is their drinking water supply. The children are all incredibly resourceful having observed 9 year olds washing their own laundry by hand under the pump and hanging it on the trees to dry.

The boys, like all boys, are mischievous and skipped Church today to swim in the river unsupervised which caused a great deal of despair and they copped a beating for it.

Being with such a small group of children and building such strong relationships will make It incredibly difficult on Sunday when it is time for me to leave.

So April has arrived marking my last month in Nepal. So for an update of where I am and what I am doing follows. A lot has happened since my last blog post. So I will be brief.

I am in Sauraha. A small village north of the Chitwan National park which eventually borders with India. As I have said before, it is the home of the animals of Kipling's The Jungle Book which dwell on the other side of the river. The village is protected by an electiric fence but leaves me wondering where we stand when the power is cut daily. To my knowledge the animals have not ventured into the village during my time here and after the Jungle Safari experience, I hope it stays that way. I will remain in Sauraha until about three or four days before I leave Nepal.

My day is as follows:

Get up sometime. Walk to the orphanage around 730am. 9:30 leave the orphanage for the hotel for dahl bhat about 10. Dahl bhat takes about 5 minutes and a litre and a half of water. Across the street to the "library" for the Womens Empowerment Project which is scheduled for 11 but happens whenever. Finish there at 2 and head back to the Volunteer House for my "siesta" during the hottest part of the day. Return to the orphanage whenever, usually about 4:30/5pm after the hut with the tin roof cools down. Return to the hotel for dahl bhat at 8pm unless the children are cranky or I am invited to stay for a meal. Home by 8:30 unless I go to the library or the hotel to exploit the wireless internet, sometimes just for something to do, especially if the power is out at the hotel.

I intend to use my time at the WEP to set up a basic micro financing business where the women use produce nail art for tourists, forcing them to use and practice their English doing something that they enjoy. Initially they would do it for free using the nail polish i have purchased for them, but when their skill increase, they will ask for a tip or fee which will go toward more nail polish and tools.

At the moment there are 5 women involved. I teach them basic English while they design nails on paper. I chose nail art because there is a market for it here, and I needed a project which would encourage them to turn up to classes. Wish me luck.

I will post photos of some of the results. They seem interested enough.

Next week I intend to go to Pokhara for about 4 days and my sightseeing in Nepal will be complete for this trip anyway. Then back to Sauraha, return to Kathmandu, visit Chobhar and the school again (at their request :) ) and then off to the UK which will be extremely expensive comparatively. This is still TBC if not straight through to Dublin.

Happy Earth Hour and I will blog soon about the orphanage providing it allows me to post! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now one thing that you need to know about Chobhar is that there is no running water. all the water has to be collected from the village pumps and then carted back to the houses. When the water ran out in the houses during Holi, people then turned to the vermillion powder and people would rub it into each others faces and hair.

Shortly after, some of the men from the village began to beat drums and sing together which triggered the beginnings of a procession down to the local hindu temple down by the river at the bottom of the hill. As we walked, more people joined the procession. I came across Devid, one of my class 8s whose black and white face paint was so detailed and immaculate that he could have passed as a member of the 70s band KISS.

It was interesting to see how the older students were gettting into the festival and the work they all put into their face paint, and how protective they were of it. It didn't stop Devid coming to me and Happy Holi-ing me with vermillion powder though.

 

The procession reached the temple about 30 minutes later. Pumps along the way provided welcome refreshing water for those who weren't saturated already and plastics would fly through the air hitting random targets. The temple was crowded, the red children continues to drain the temple's water supply.

 

We would have been there for an hour amongst the colour, the music and the mayhem.

Well I have been stuck in Kathmandu for three days now. I was supposed to go to Pokhara last Thursday (it's Sunday now) for about 5 days of tours and sightseeing. The office received a phone call explaining there was mail for me to be collected. We arranged for the mail depot to stay open (it was almost closing time) and zipped across the city to collect it. When we arrived there it was closed. Dang it!

I had been waiting for two items to come to Australia by post. The first was an incredibly important form processed by the US consulate in Canberra which is required to obtain a US J1 work visa, which has been in the pipeline since before Christmas. The other is a package of toys I'd purchased in Australia to give to whoever I felt was worthy in the village. My time in the village was over and the mail still hadn't arrived.

Anyway, on Friday I made the trip across town to collect the mail, this time on the back of a scooter. The pollution and dust in Kathmandu causes me some respiratory difficulties violently and often if I'm not cautious. Passengers don't require helmets (by law), so there was visor to protect me from the wind. I just wrapped my scarf over my face like a bandit or ninja and that usually serves me well.

The mail service there is a mess (no surprises there). The package I'd received contained the gifts rather than the visa form which meant that I would need to make a special trip back from Chitwan or Pokhara at the drop of a hat, a some six hour drive by rickety bus.

I received an email saying the FedEx envelope containing the form will be arriving on Sunday, meaning that I will need to hang round again until then.

I have mentioned the Holi festival before, explaining that it was a festival of throwing colour and water on people. It is a Hindu festival which I have since learned reflects a legend which loosely runs along the line of one god worshipped another god instead of his father. Consequently the father god sought revenge on his child god and the god he worshipped. There is something about the child god sitting on another gods lap and catching on fire. Confused yet? Welcome to my world!

The first signs of Holi emerged on March 1, a week earlier than the actual festival. The students had been buying "plastics", opened ended plastic bags which they twist closed and then throw at people. The concrete block which has an awesome view over Kathmandu (which I mention in previous blogs) creates the perfect vantage point for saturating anyone coming up the path. The students are an incredible shot and there are a few times where they have landed their plastics right in front of me. I look up and see them grinning through the long grass further up the hill. 9s and 10s and perhaps a couple of stray 8s are the usual suspects. Never did they actually get me though. I'm not sure what I would have done if they had. Probably just search for them on the 7th of March.

I woke up to squeals and splashes in the street outside my window at 7am. Sachika came into my room soaked through at 730. She had wet vermillion powder on her face, in her hair and down one side of her clothes. Happy Holi she squealed and ran away. The rest of the family were up on the "terrace" watching the comical festivities below. I got changed into the boardies and T-Shirt that I had prepared the night before and clambered up the stairs to the third floor terrace. I was immediately shot with a disappointing water pistol among screams of "Happy Holi!". Then unknowingly, the next door neighbour and skipped from one roof to the next with a massive bucket of water and poured it from the roof top. Soaked through by 8am. With Sanju, Sachika and myself on the terrace, we saturated the kids and adults running around the street below, whilst consistently copping friendly fire.

I filled a few plastic with water and headed out the front door on to the street. Initially no-one was sure whether to get me or not, so I ventured through the temple to see what was happening there. The candles were lit and older people had left offerings to Buddha. This was peculiar because Holi is a Hindu festival, so I was convinced they were taking shelter from the pending madness on a nice warm day. Shortly after the other volunteers arrived: Achuta (from the US) and Danielle (from South Africa), and later Mandy (from the Netherlands) arrived to join the festivities and remained dry for two seconds.

By now it was like a show down from an old western. Second storey shutters would fly open a hand full of vermillion powder would fall sky staining skin, hair and clothes a brilliant red, then the shutters would close as quickly as they had opened, but only long enough for you to see the toothy grin of the perpetrator. Water from balloons, plastics and buckets fell from the sky until you could not be any wetter and the drips from your squelching clothes stained the stone path a dark orange. It was during this time that the I came across my grade 6s. One of which hit me with a bucket of water. Needless to say that I got him back spectacularly when I picked him up off the ground and used him as a human shield. This is also when I was gloriously soaked by a little old lady who threw a bucket load from the 5th floor roof top that nearly decked me. As far as the grade 6s go, the ice had broken and I was fair game after that. Seeing me bolt around the temple with 7 or 8 twelve year olds in hot pursuit armed with water cannons and plastics was not an uncommon sight.

By midday we ventured inside and cracked open the powdered paint that I purchased in Kathmandu on the weekend. Pink, red, yellow and green with four small containers of gold and silver sparkle paint. Because my entire head was know bright red I had to wash and dry my face so the paint would stick. Eventually, Sachika's hand prints were on my cheeks. One silver and one gold. I put some pink power on the top of my head and then some green. I deliberately stuck my head out of the front door. Took about three water bombs to the head in 30 seconds and the powder turned to paint and I looked like an Easter egg.

This is a blend of several events over the last fortnight. Usually I finish a blog on a Monday and anything new makes the blog the following week. This one is a little mixed up. I've put the dates in and hope it makes sense.

Today (21/2) I was teaching year 8 whose theme this year has been electricity, which I have found to be a really boring topic (or it has been presented that way in the text book at least). Today was different however. Smoke came billowing into out class room like the place was on fire. We shut the shutters but black smoke was visibly gushing through the aeration vents above each of the window. Students tied there scarves and beanies around their faces and I just shook my head in disbelief! It turns out the Grade 6 teacher was away so the class was asked to weed the embankment behind the year 8 classroom and to burn the rubbish. Students did this more or less unsupervised. A different world indeed! We bailed, abandoning the class room and played a game in the middle road because it was the only place we had space to run around. Another successful lesson in Nepali land.

On another note, Sanju asked me to go see a free Nepali concert last Friday (17/2). It was walking distance from the office. There were big name Nepali acts performing (whatever that means) and a large crowd of mostly men were present when we arrived. The first act was a woman who everyone seemed to know, and the vertically challenged mosh pit sprung to life to a song that wasn't particularly 'mosh appropriate'. There was also some crowd surfing. There was a heavy police presence each dressed in riot gear and carrying a wooden clubs. Random I thought.

The music stopped and the female vocalist was spotlighted standing in front of a large banner saying Concert for Light! Then in Nepali she was screaming into the microphone waving her arms all around. It reminded me of Hitler's speech to the Hitler Youth at Nuremberg!, a short film I'd show my year 11s. Crazy, passionate and I couldn't under stand a word of it!

Then it dawned on me. This was a political protest using celebrities to activate the public in protest of the lack of progress made in achieving consistent electricity. It explained the riot police too.

Now everyone from KRudd and SmartTraveller through to Lonely Planet will tell you not to be seen at these things because when they get out of hand, they get out of hand fast. Excusing myself because of the cold, I returned to Thamel and went out for tea with the new volunteers who only arrived that afternoon. Nothing violent became of the protest.

Week 4 in Nepal had arrived with yet another must see festival on Friday and Saturday (24 & 25/2). Every 5 years the monk responsible for each monastery in the Patan district including Chobhar retire, a new one is appointed and the "congregation" bring a Buddha decorated by the "congregation" to the big temple in Patan for worship and offerings. The village folk make the pilgrimage to Patan (a village absorbed now by Kathmandu) to honour Buddha. We (Sam, Sanju and I along with new arrival Achuta, an Indian-American (Indian as in India)) went along to check it out. I smashed my head on a doorway hard enough to bleed but not be concussed, which became the topic of conversation every time I sat down. That is the only time when I'm short enough for the local people to see it. I'm okay, it's just the price you pay being taller than the average Sanjeev. It was worth a look but these religious festivals are getting old, but since they are so important and valued by the local crew, then I am happy to grin and bear it, a bit like the split scalp.

I had my first trip into Thamel (21/2), the tourist quadrant of Kathmandu, on the back of a motorcycle. Weaving our way down unsealed roads with unmarked homemade speed bumps, pot holes the size of garbage bin lids and scattering cows, goats and a variety of poultry in every direction. I had my laundry bag wedged in between Rabin the English teacher and me, and my daypack on my back with the tripod hanging off the side, we zipped through the Kathmandu like a plane in a storm. I just thought I would hang on, keep my feet off the ground even if I thought we were going to fall, and shut my eyes on the scary bits. In hindsight, there was a motorcycle trip in Sapa, Vietnam a couple of years ago which was more terrifying. A bunch of piglets sprinted across the track then and nearly sent me off the edge of a significant drop off. We made it needless to say.

I went on a mountain flight on the Saturday morning which was awesome. The photos are on my Facebook page. I'm white water rafting next weekend. Only 6 rapids but it will get me out of Kathmandu for the day making it worth the trip anyway.

There was a teachers strike on Sunday (26/2) so there was no school. I returned from Thamel on Monday morning only to find that the strike continued for an extra day. It was actually really good because the Chobhar kids had no plans and came and asked me to play their simple games. I don't often see the kids out and about in the village. After school they have to do their homework while there is power and light and then they stay home when it's dark. I've made a video of the kids playing games then.

Finally, the school kids are running a muck and throwing water at each other (teachers, sound familiar). March 7 marks the Holi festival. You may have seen on An Idiot Abroad (India) where the idiot was randomly targeted with coloured tikka power (the powder used to make the Indian 'dots') and water, and your skin is painted. The kids are pumped for it and anyone outside (and inside with a clear line of sight from outside) are potential targets, consenting or not. I should still be in the village for that one and I'm hoping the other volunteers can make it to Chobhar too. Look out. As the largest moving target in the village I suspect I'll be fair and popular game.

As far as the rhyme and reason for the festival goes, I haven't a clue. Everyone just jumps to talking about the fun stuff.

A quick thanks to those who contacted me via Facebook regarding the unfortunate and untimely passing of young Tom Karras. I read about the train accident online in the Herald-Sun on Sunday, which was really early in the piece. He was named in tribute among several reader comments. After stalking a few Facebook pages I learned that he had to belong to the Karras family formerly of Warrnambool, and younger brother of Amelia - Life Member and superstar of my patrol team. :'(

Thinking of you and your family Meils, x

Today is Wednesday 22nd of February 2012 and marks the end of my third week here in Nepal. It is also the first day of the Tibetan New Year although most monasteries aren't partaking in their regular festivities, as a result of a significant member of the Buddhist hierarchy having passed away this year. The school is closed again today to mark the holiday and the students have their second day off this week. I went to visit the local monastery again and visited the child nuns. The first time I visited I thought they were boys but on a second visit I noticed their pink sandals with bows and ribbons. Despite their footwear, the nuns still look and sound like boys. Monday was Shiva Ratri Day where Hindus pay homage to Shiva, the God of destruction who along with Brahma and Vishnu form the top 3 Hindu gods. There were mile long lines to visit temples where Shiva has said to have visited in an Earthly form while some women fast all day and children set up road blocks to collect money for firewood. In some weird way it reminded me of trick or treating! Children light small bonfires in the streets and the smoke fills the city for days. It is either that or the marijuana being smoked by adult men across the country which clearly scented the air from the early hours of the morning. I went into a restaurant at 7pm and the staff were rolling the puff on the front counter. It is the only day of the year where the normally banned substance is loosely permitted (or rather ignored by the police). I met the three new volunteers last Friday. There are two blokes, Volker and Alex from Germany who are volunteering at a monastery in Kathmandu for 4 weeks and Danielle from Capetown, South Africa who is here for 3 months. I was so pleased to finally meet people doing something similar to me. Sam from Belgium arrived in Nepal about 2 weeks before me is due to leave on Friday. He is very casual and I enjoyed his company last Friday which was the first time I met him, it is a shame that he has to go so soon. Having met these volunteers I was surprised at how much advice I was able to give them about Nepal having only been here for two weeks at that stage. It boosted my confidence and awareness in knowing how much I was getting out of this experience. I was able to accomplish a lot over the course of the long weekend. I lost my Warrnambool SLSC jumper at the laundry, never to be seen again. The compensation was a discount on my next wash which equates to about $4 here which is a significant discount in Nepali terms. I couldn't bankrupt the poor little dude. Besides, I purchased two The North Face polar fleeces for just under $20. They are probably imitations but they keep me warm. I returned to Durbhar Square and the Monkey Temple on Saturday to do some filming. It was a clear day and I was hoping for a better view of the Himalayas and was quite proud of myself making the way there entirely on foot without a map. I was conned into getting a henna tattoo at Durbar Square which remains on the back of my right hand 5 days later. The mountains were magnificent from the Monkey Temple and the excursion was definitely worth it. When I go to Thamel, which is the tourist quarter of Kathmandu, I purchase pirated DVDs for about $1 each. When I return to Chobhar, Sanju and his brothers crowd around my laptop to watch the DVDs. Both the house and the office don't have DVD players and the house doesn't even have a TV. I charge the laptop up to 100% each day and they watch a DVD on battery once the power goes off. So far we have watched Abduction, Gullivers Travels, Rio and the Iron Lady. I also purchased the Disney version of the Jungle Book realising the names of the animals are in Hindi and are transferable to Nepali. Unfortunately it turns out I had bought a blank disc. So I might try again next week. It looks as though I have 2 more weeks volunteering at this school before exams begin. I have been asked to stay and supervise the exams but I suggested that I go sight seeing in Pokhara during that week and move onto a different project at the Chitwan National Park. I can volunteer in an orphanage, a school or at the environmental project where elephant dung is turned into paper. I'm thinking about mixing it all up. I realise that it is important that I don't spent too much time teaching this year because I need a break from that, as much as I do enjoy it. Schools been difficult this week with the public holidays, the kids minds have been elsewhere. Old Macdonald had a Farm was a great hit with the Grade 6s. I could hear their EIEIOs as they walk past my house after school yesterday which I have to admit was really nice. I have booked a mountain flight on Saturday to checkout the Himalayas by air. It is an hour long flight and cost me about $170. With no real intention of trekking, it looks like this will be the closest I'll get in the time that is available. But having said that, you never really know.

I had the opportunity on Saturday 11th of February, to visit the Narayanhiti Palace, home of the last royal family of Nepal. Now some of you might remember that the Nepalese Royal Family came to an unexpected and grizzly end. The entire family was massacred in the meeting hall behind the palace, allegedly by a member of the family who eventually turned the gun on himself. Now conversations with various Nepalese people reveal that they aren't necessarily disappointed about seeing an end to the monarchy, but they are also convinced that there may have been more to the massacre than meets the eye (although most won't say much more than that). The massacre is in living memory and was the first monarchy to collapse in the 21st Century, with the event taking place on June 1st 2001.

This is where the historian takes a step back and the fiction writer emerges on cue. Could the son (I think it was the son) have been an innocent victim and not the perpetrator after all? and a third party seeking a republic have committed the crime? The building the massacre took place in was immediately demolished once the funerals had taken place, which causes many Nepalese to wonder if there was something to hide from public knowledge. Many people have conceded since that life was simpler under the monarchy and things actually got done faster, but none are prepared to admit that they would prefer to have a monarchy.

Interestingly, I'm often asked about the 1999 republic referendum in Australia. People here cannot believe that at the end of the 20th Century, Australians would be prepared to maintain a monarchy.

Anyway, the palace was fascinating. It carried a 1970's decor with old school radios and a strange colour of pastel paint. Heads of antelope, alligators and rhinos adorned the walls while the skins of bears, panthers and tigers stretched out across the floor with their glassy eyes still in their heads. The only royal residence that I have visit that comes remotely close to this is that of the King of Rock. If you replace the animal skins with shag carpet and the rhino heads with gold records you more or less had a palatial Graceland. The decor is especially strange because we are talking about 2001, proving that Nepal is running about 40 years behind the western world.

The gardens were poorly maintained with overgrown lawns and scum filled fountains. The foundations of the massacre building clearly evident and the spots where each family member was gunned down is clearly labelled. One of the crown princes escaped, only to be gunned down on the garden bridge leading into the back of the palace. The bullet holes were clearly evident in the palace wall and in case someone missed the some 10 holes in the wall, there were proud signs on the path pointing them out so you don't miss it.

After I visited the Garden of Dreams, a well to do palatial garden (much more palatial than the ones at the palace) where you can just hangout, read a book and there is also the opportunity to have a meal here even though it is one of the most classy and expensive places in Kathmandu. The Nepalese here are in suits, which suggest that most Nepalese will not see inside the walls. I should mention that it is a work in progress. The government is still converting the palace into a museum. I shouldn't be too critical.

The rest of this day involved collecting my laundry, dinner, Internet and being hassled by drug pushers in Thamel. I must look like the type that would choose to eat magic mushrooms because I got offered them five times on my walk back as opposed to only being asked twice to purchase hash.

At some stage I will post my 366 project which is of course, is a work in progress.

Valentines Day had arrived. While it is not celebrated in Nepal, but it is discussed so I themed my lessons here on it.

I explained the history of the day, patron sainthood and linked St Valentine as the patron saint of lovers to St Nicholas, patron saint of children. They could understand the similarity which surprised me. I discussed how in Christianity there is one god but several saints like angels responsible for overseeing our daily lives. I explained Cupid as an invisible naked flying baby that go around shooting people and making them fall in love. I think that covers it. Students spent the day replacing the "Good Morning sir" with "Happy Valentine's Day sir".

On another note I visited the monastery again yesterday and met the child monks. Except they weren't monks, they were nuns. It is an all female monastery and the children, despite their appearance really do look like boys. The nuns monastery is not far from my house in Chobhar and I think visit there once a week just for something to do. There is also a great view from the steps out the front over the valley. The monastery is the only place where I run into westerners too. There is a philanthropist in Nepal wanting to expand the monastery to cater for more nuns. There were three American women and one New Zealander who have been to Nepal several times and return home to fundraise for the monastery development. I have to admit, it was nice to see some westerners in the village and have a quick chat.

It's now Tuesday night and I've another wedding party to go to. I'm looking forward to getting on to the Internet on Friday to see what the responses to my last blog were. I'm in the process of researching a scenic flight through the Himalayas which I might book on Saturday for the Saturday after and am trying to map out out the remainder of my time in Nepal. I'm here until May 1 but I would like to lock in my time volunteering in Chitwan and Pokhara soon and then plan some tours.