Our jungle adventure is now over–yesterday we took the long bus ride to Pokhara. We much prefer Pokhara over Kathmandu so far…it’s still busy but more spread out and quieter, and walking through the streets is less scary (there are actual sidewalks in places!!!). Our hotel is off the main drag too…we both got around 12 hours of sleep last night (much needed)!
Almost every night here, I dream of home (or even better–returning home and all that excitment and reunitement). It’s actually the ideal situation: I spend my days here in Nepal, but every night I am at home with you guys.
Now to report on Sauraha, Chitwan. The climate there is much different than what we’ve become accustomed too…cool moist jungle air, though very hazy–the local Tharu people are ALWAYS burning stuff. Random piles of fire and garbage and smoke everywhere.
We took many “rides” in and around Chitwan, and explaining in the order of rides we took is probably a pretty effective way of describing it.
The first was our long ride in a small taxi from Kathmandu to Chitwan. Pretty typical: LOTS TO LOOK AT. Packs of scrappy dogs, piles of thin filmy burning garbage of every material, children walking in their brightly colored school uniforms. And, of all things, semis. The cargo trucks here seem much more loved: they’re all beautifully painted on all sides, with decorative borders around the windshields, and sparkle with tinsel and streamers and tassels. And most charming of all, each one has something written on its bumper, funny things like: Rasta Killer, Rock On!!, Road of the King, King of the Road, Megadeth, First Time on the Road, Bad Boy, Sexy Road, Oh My God Open Heart, Big Boss, Don’t Kiss Me, etc. etc.
We waited for a jeep upon arriving at the gate, and in typical Nepali fashion, it never arrived. We were introduced to our replacement ride: a carriage pulled by a tiny, bony horse. So off we bumped down the rocky dirt road, tensing every muscle in our bodies in attempt to bind ourselves to the carriage (and not get dramatically thrown out of it) as the driver urged the horse on with his commands…”Hut! Huy!” A few days later we rode by ox-cart, which was unexpectedly less bumpy.
We were given a day-by-day plan of our stay in Chitwan, with planned activities. This type of planned, touristy schedule is usually something I despise and avoid, but there weren’t a terrible amount of tourists there and we were on our own for most of it, so it was more than tolerable.
Our second day in Chitwan, more “rides”. A lurching ride in a 65-year-old WW2 Russian jeep to the river. The river there, by the way, reminded us so much of the Sacramento River! Similar vegetation and shores. From there we got in our dugout canoe (it’s unbelievable that they carve those boats from one solid log) and road low, drifting and shifting down the river and looking at wildlife. Birds of course were my focus: wild peacocks, spectacularly turquoise iridescent kingfishers (White-throated), a hornbill, bulbuls, herons. We also saw many crocodiles…breathtaking, glossy, healthy, ENORMOUS crocodiles, far superior to any I’ve seen in captivity. Just gorgeous.
This whole time, elephants (captive ones) are just wandering around shuttling people everywhere. Elephants are so magnificent, although I had a hard time with them being captive. They’re chained to posts by a spiky chain around one foot, not given access to water sometimes, and by visiting the museum near the Breeding Center, I learned about the horrifying training techniques. Lots of chains and exposure to flame to desensitize them.
We also witnessed the elephant baths, where tourists sometimes climb in with them for a plunging bath in the river atop an elephant. I was a little tempted, but the day after (when I had the opportunity) I decided against it…I couldn’t bear to be another person forcing that animal to do something.
Later on day two was our ride through the jungle on our elephant (controlled by his trainer, an older grey-haired man with glasses, Pops thought he looked like a professor. He was delighted when we spoke Nepali to him, bragging to all the other trainers.). We embarked onto the elephant’s back, each straddling the corner post of a square wooden platform topped with a mattressy blanket for dubious comfort. Elephants are strange to ride. I expected it to be smoother. We rocked back and forth, clambering through the fields and forest. (The next day we both had bruises on inner arms and legs from clinging on.) Our elephant was a little upset at times too, emitting a low, vibrating growl. It also grabbed and pulled at vegetation along the way with its trunk, demonstrating its impressive strength.
We rode through fields of high grass…really high. Higher than the elephant, higher than us atop the elephant. Stiff serrated grasses topped with feathery purple plumes. Sometimes he’d steer us straight through the thick of it, forcing us to duck and hide our faces and get covered with fluffy plant bits. We saw some other groups, all heading in the same vague direction, towards and through a moister, cooler, jungle that came to a clearing. In this clearing was a rhinocerous.
CHAOS! All the tourist-laden elephants now, chasing around this rhino, circling it. Thankfully, the rhino didn’t seem distressed. Just mildly annoyed at getting cut off and blocked by these elephants when he’s just snackin’.
Despite all the madness, I really did enjoy seeing that guy in his natural habitat (y’all know, I’m a huge natural habitat fan). Rhinos are so strange and fascinating! The thick leathery skin, broad body, the horn…and there he is, in this jungley wild meadow. I felt like I was in a different geological era, seeing him and the wild crocs on the same day. Such huge animals in relatively wild places…it felt very prehistoric.
We also went to an exhibition of traditional Tharu dance which was very neat. The men are the only dancers (even when a woman is called for in the story the dance tells, they use a man dressed as one). The most interesting to me was the stick dancing. It’s violent, rhythmic and mechanical, the men moving in a circle with a stick in each hand, banging it against the ones the others hold at a precise moment. It is something that must be rehearsed like crazy…if the timing is a little off, the stick could come down and crack the skull of a friend.
So in all, Chitwan was great and we enjoyed it thorougly. For the quietness, strange Californiaesque familiarity, and real village life. Mud houses, giant round haystacks with roof-like tops, lovely, lovely children. A nice break from being in these cities (although as I said before, this one is pleasant). We can see Machhupuchare from our hotel room window! We’re going to start discussing our trekking options tomorow.
