Anthony MarrisWell, most of you probably already have heard that Kathmandu was kind of a bust. Long story short, I had some trouble finding something to do during the day- that is to say- I found nothing to do during the day. So I packed up and left. However, I really did have some fun and met some great people here and there. One thing that I really want to write about is this experience I had in the wee hours of the morning on one of my last days there:
One of my more subdued nights in town yielded a couple of interesting new friends. I was sitting on the roof with my guitar minding my own business when I heard some voices coming up the stairs. They belonged to a couple of fellow travelers- Michelle from Ireland and Tal (?) from Israel. It took a few days to get to know them, but I’m glad that I took the time to do so. The interesting part, though, came a few nights after when Tal caught me going up the stairs into the guest house and invited me to join him for dinner. To be honest, I felt a little awkward because we hadn’t really had a lot to talk about when we spent any time together before, but I put that aside and had a seat. After a while we transferred the conversation upstairs to his room, listening to music and such, and started talking about our travels.
Turns out he spent eight months traveling through India on a Royal Enfield motorcycle, something I’d really like to do on my next trip. The great thing was that his stories led to a conversation about the concept of freedom (being free to go where and when you want, to start and stop, to speed down a hill from a high mountain pass, etc.) and after that we had no trouble keeping the conversation going.
After some time, he suggested a trip down to the street for chai. My first thought was that there couldn’t possibly be a place open that late to just order a chai. The only restaurants that stay open past 12 are the ones that double as nightclubs and bars. But I figured he knew what he was doing so I agreed (this is where the story gets good). Across the street there’s a restaurant, scratch that, an alleyway, no… a hole in the wall run by three or four brothers each with a really unfortunate set of circumstances to contend with (various mental handicaps and orphaned very young, mainly).
So we’re sitting on these old plastic chairs and drinking chai, and Tal starts talking to the kids that run the shop. It’s just basic conversation, but it makes them really happy that he’s not just drinking in silence like me. Seeing this kind of interaction is really more inspiring than you can imagine. Traveling generally consists of just passing through a place, but I could tell that Tal really wanted to enrich his experience. After a while, I decided to step out of comfort zone a little bit: One of the kids, the second oldest, I think, about 13, has a kind of toy guitar that he’s using to play some of those riffs that we all learn (”Smoke on the Water”, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, “Wish You Were Here”), and he kept offering it to me and asking me to play a song. I finally took it and taught him how to play “Wonderwall.” I’ve seen a lot of happy kids in my time, but I swear I’ve never seen one so happy as he was when I was teaching him the chords to that song. There’s really no way to describe how happy that made me in turn.
I guess the whole thing kind of taught me that you have to search for things like that. It’s easy to meet locals when you travel, but for the most part the interactions consist of “Which country?” “America.” “Amrika! Good country! How long you been in Nepal?” “Two weeks.” “You go trekking?” “No, not for me.” It’s okay; I won’t knock it. But where you find real people and real interaction is in the holes in the wall. And those don’t just jump out at you.
Following the chai shop we went to get chapatti at another “hole in the wall” in the form of a fairly corpulent woman in her mid-40s or so grilling rolls and meat right on the street at about three in the morning. The hilarious thing was that there was a cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she made the food. At several points she also thought it time to have a jolly spit onto the street beside her. I’ve met so many travelers that would have been grossed out enough not to eat the stuff she cooked, but all Tal and I said when we got our food was “Cheers!”
In other news, I got into Calcutta three days ago, and I’m really glad I made plans to stay for a couple of months. It’s fantastic here. There are book stalls everywhere I look, delicious Bengali food, hardly any rats bigger than your average cat wandering around the guest house, and weather is at least bearable. I’m also meeting loads of really friendly people and playing a lot of poker.
What’s so incredible though, is all of the volunteer opportunities available here. I just returned from my first day at Prem Dan, a home for handicapped men and women, mostly directly from the street. The work day is short and surprisingly light, with breakfast at the Mother Teresa’s “Motherhouse” 7, laundry at 8, washing the walkway with those ridiculously inefficient Indian brooms at 9, chai break at 10, and then serving lunch and washing dishes from 11 until noon or so. There’s an afternoon shift as well, from 3 to 5:30, but I’m told that people rarely want to do both shifts after a few days.
I’ll be honest. I’m not religious, and certainly not Catholic, so the prospect of working with the Missionaries of Charity seemed a little daunting to me at first, especially considering some of the things I’ve heard about Mother Teresa and how her staunch stance on a lot of controversial issues interfered with some of the physical (as opposed to spiritual) healing that could otherwise have been done through her organizations. What I found when I got there, however, was a group of extremely dedicated and equally good-hearted people not looking for Karma, but just to do a little bit of good in the world. Apart from some effigies of Jesus and Mother Teresa that are hanging around, there’s very little in the way of religious paraphernalia and nothing at all in the way of religious coercion. Despite how the philosophy might have begun, the volunteers are there for one purpose, and the beliefs of any individual never come into play if you don’t want them to.
All in all, I had a really amazing time. The other volunteers are literally from every corner of the world, and they’re all really friendly (I even got to practice my Spanish). I can’t imagine a better place to spend my days. What’s interesting is that I signed up for and thought I was going to the home for the Destitute and Dying, the place I visited once before, but I got on the wrong bus and ended up at Prem Dan instead. Even though it was a mistake, I think I’ll stay. It’s funny how just a few hours can really attach you to a place. I really can’t wait to go back tomorrow, even though it means waking up at 6AM.
So I’m surviving, and I’m weaning myself onto the tap water (it hasn’t made me sick thus far), and I’m actually considering extending my stay here. It’s true that I haven’t been here for long, but I really do feel like I’m someplace where I can belong, at least for a while.
Pictures to follow once I take some
Peace,
Anthony
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