London to Freetown

Life in Nepal: a list

So I return to my list of the basics of life in Nepal.  I have left the crazy tourist trap of Thamel in Kathmandu.  A seven hour micro bus ride has landed me in pokhara from where I continue.

Wildlife: I need to first return to wildlife and make a confession or two.  Yesterday in my rented room in the holyland guest house pokhara I stood on a very large cockroach.  I then ensured the cockroach was dead by beating it with my shoe.  Luckily there were no budhists around to watch my display of hatred toward the crunchy cockroach.    

Two weeks ago ambling down the street I came upon a very cute looking goat and three men.  One of the men carried a machete.   Before I knew it the goat was being placated pre sacrifice.  The goat had its head chopped off.  There was a lot of blood. Apparently  meat does not grow in packaging in supermarkets: I know  this will be a shock to other city dwellers like myself.  This has made me think about things.  I think I cried when I watched chicken run, I definitely cried at watership down and bambi and yet here I was, I could have saved the cute goat but I didn’t.  Indeed I even ate goat in a village the next day.  My provisional conclusion is that the movies I watched are pretty stupid, how can I care about a goat and what people eat in Nepal when there is so much else wrong in the world.  The sacrifice was fast, the goat didn’t have time to cry or get distressed and it fed a family welcoming a loved one home.

Weather: monsoon season has started.  I am either hot or wet.  On the plus side the monsoon makes the super polluted Kathmandu air more bearable.  On the down side there is a lot more nasty stuff floating around in the water that your food might be washed in: watch out bellies.

Food.  Back in Pokhara I have returned to the scene of eggogate where I suffered the worst bout of food poisoning in history.  I felt like I had to return to the restaurant to face my demons head on, and because off season there was  no  where else  open for me to write my blog and drink a coke, obviously I’d never eat here again.    

Approximately three weeks ago, myself and a friend had attended at food poisoning restaurant for some breakfast.  We both selected an egg option which seemed ok at the time.  Sadly four hours later still sitting in the same restaurant, but joined by an ex- major with some Gurkha research  info, the unfortunate symptons began.   I recall excusing myself from the major at least two times to acquaint myself better and better with the hole in the ground, ‘fragrant’ smelling bathroom.  The major must have thought I was uninterested in his gurkha information and in the end I had to confess to feeling just a little unwell and making my way back to my room.  This I succeeded in doing but by now in a little more pain I thought perhaps a doctor might be an idea.   I still had my London head on- doctors don’t make house visits as the hotel staff informed me, ‘they are too busy at the hospital’.  I was taken to Fewa emergency room Pokhara.   At this point the pain renders me less than choosy but upon arrival at the ER room I am not  convinced that it is an actual ER room.  The small building is mostly  chaotic and very dirty.  The antiquated trolley didn’t look like it would stay upright if I sat on it.  But it did.  A number of different men then took turns prodding my stomach- I deduced they must be doctors, though there was no white coat.  An iv was inserted and injections followed.  I’ve no idea what and no one explained.  Still I felt slightly better and was anyway distracted by the number of seriously ill people around me.  A very elderly woman with endless family members  saying goodbye.  An unconscious young man carried in, a dented motorbike helmet following.  I worried at the lack of modern medical equipment I’m used to seeing.  

There were a limited number of nurses at the hospital.  As my accompanying guest house owner informed me its up to the family to care for their loved ones in hospital, to bring them food, to collect the medicines prescribed.  And so Nirmal who had brought me to the ER had to stay in the hospital with me overnight, sleep on a bench, collect water for me to drink and call the Dr when the IV kept on blocking.  I am touched by the way people, family members care for each other here. 

This makes the hospital, lacking in equipment, and maybe staff, somehow look more inviting.  I am discharged the next day, fully recovered, I think the Drs and staff are amazing.  Waiting outside for a taxi home I am approached by one of the ubiquitous street children and asked for money for food.  There is no free hospital treatment in Nepal, for those alone in society they don’t get brought to the hospital at all.   A street child hurt or injured will most times be left.   

Anyway  anyway . Lunch time, where’s that waiter, I feel like an omelette.