Friday, 28 June 2013

Post 2: Kathmandu


Friday 14

Kathmandu is quickly growing on me. Once you get over the filth and the dust, which strangely doesn't take long, there is a lot to like. The traffic is delightfully chaotic and liberating - as far as any of us can discern, there are no formal traffic rules. Signal lights are rare, with major intersections more likely to be controlled by a signalman, at least during peak times. Footpaths too, are all but nonexistent, meaning the narrow streets are shared by pedestrians, cars, rickshaws, motorbikes, bikes, and the ubiquitous dogs. Carnage and mayhem is avoided due to a level of courtesy and patience so unlike the attitude of drivers at home. As a front seat passenger today, I instinctively hollered at a van driver who had indicated to turn but carried on straight across the front of our van, almost causing a collision. Our driver looked at me in obvious surprise, "Well he did indicate to turn", I mumbled. "We do things a little differently at home".

Some of our crew headed out on their bikes into this vehicular and biological maelstrom this morning, including Catriona in her low slung trike. By all accounts they managed admirably, despite Catriona tipping over twice and Anita ending up entangled in the dust with a motor scooter. Rather than risk wrecking my trike, I chose instead to take my first shower since leaving home....bliss. Actually, the mornings ride was so fraught with danger that we are seriously considering beginning our first scheduled ride, the day after tomorrow, on the outskirts of the city rather than from our hotel.

Our present lodgings are in a gated compound that exists as an oasis in the middle of the surrounding chaos. Within this space is our hotel and its gardens, and several tourism-related operations, including the cycle tour company catering to the Catwalk team. Outside the gates is a crush of souvenir shops, supermarkets, book stores, money changers, and eateries. In a nearby alley there is a barbers shop and now all the lads are sporting number ones or twos; you could now be forgiven for assuming we are raising money for cancer research. After my cut I also opted for a shave with a cut-throat razor, which I enjoyed so much i think I'll go back for another. Amy bravely got a cut too, and we are all impressed, if somewhat surprised, at the end result.

My bum has become a frequent topic of conversation and, somewhat to my embarrassment,
the subject of numerous photographs. We are all determined that I will be fit to fly to Tibet and ride, and the photographs are for the purpose of measuring improvement. Tonight the team doctor, who has only recently joined us, asked if he might examine my skin. I helpfully offered to show him the pictures but he advised me to "keep those for your album". I assume from this that he prefers to see the real thing. Amy is now talking of hosting an exhibition of these photographs on our return.

This afternoon we visited the Nepal spinal rehabilitation center. A surprisingly functional operation,  though despite this, outcomes for the spinal injured in Nepal are pretty grim - up to a third of patients are dead within two years of returning to their communities. Looking through the acute admissions ward, I was struck by a sense of hopelessness. Knowing the level of investment it has taken to provide me with a worthwhile quality of life, the chances of the same for people who are given the equivalent of ten New Zealand dollars a month, seem remote. Nevertheless, the team running the clinic are passionate and working to improve the future of spinal care in Nepal.


A tough future ahead for this recent tetraplegic

Monday 17

The last few days here in Kathmandu have been quite something. Saturday was quiet enough for me as I opted to have a rest day rather than go site seeing. It was raining and my bum was still very painful to sit on. In the evening we attended a Nepalese cultural dinner and performance. It was somewhat Interesting but, as with any such thing, felt contrived. Mike livened it up somewhat with a drunken but enthusiastic haka during the traditional dance lesson.

Later that evening, as Amy and I were navigating down the steep concrete ramp from our hotel room, I fell forward (with some assistance from Amy it must be said) breaking my fall with my head before coming to rest in the rain at the bottom of the slope.. The loud crack my head made on contact gave Amy a fright and she screamed, drawing a crowd of Nepalese porters and waiters to my side. As I tried to compose myself and sit up, hands kept pulling at my arms knocking me off balance. This caused me to bark, "somebody keep these idiots away from me", which had the desired result. I now have several grazes, a bursitis on my elbow, and a lump on my head to go with my sore arse. Perfect...not quite actually, there was more to come.

The next day we headed out for our first whole team ride. I got little more than a couple of hundred meters before realising the sensor for my power assist hub wasn't working. Back through the rickshaws and motor scooters to the workshop for a worrisome 15 minutes as we tried in vain to get it fixed. Thankfully we got it sorted and soon caught up to the pack. As the unions had called a general strike, the streets were relatively sane. The unions seem to wield a fair amount of power - they announced, among other measures, that they would be cutting power to the prime ministers residence. Power and other services are very unreliable and the unions wanted the minister to experience a little of the frustration felt by regular citizens.

Never could figure out the wiring

After a break for lunch and sightseeing at Nepal's eighth century cultural capital - I forget the name and can't be bothered searching for it - we ascended an approximately 15 km hill to our accommodation for the night. The views and the hotel were worth the climb but it is for the diarrhea that a number of us will remember it most fondly. Scot, mike, and penny were afflicted that night and the next day, while my own misery was delayed until later in the afternoon. I'm not feeling quite so magnanimous toward the Nepalese way of life as I was a couple of days ago.

Every time a camera came out the larger of these girls would immediately arrange a pose. We were asked not to give money but what the hell.



 
Another professional beggar, though I suspect his options are limited




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