Habibindia 14: Face massage and changing the plan

25.03.2017, Kathmandu, Nepal

My days in Nepal are counted. Today I leave Pokhara to do rafting in a river between Pokhara and Kathmandu. I went for an early morning stroll around 8:30 where I enjoyed watching shops opening and sellers putting out their stands and prepare for the day. It was the sunniest day since I arrived to Pokhara and I could finally see the Fishtail (Machapuchare) mountain from the street. It was there in the horizon like a nice painting hanging in your room that you often stop and contemplate its beauty.
I stopped for a hair cut close to the hotel. I look a bit like a monkey and could use some grooming. The barber was on the way to the hotel and he often eye-contacted me in the last few days which made me insecure about my hair. As if I heard him saying “when are you coming to fix this?”
He was young in his mid-twenties. I was relatively shocked when he said that his wife is now 19 and they have a 5 years old child! He married her when she was 12. They have two kids now. This woman could be a grandmother at the age of 30 and a grand-grandmother at 45. anyway… He gave me a nice haircut and talked me into having face mask and massage. Then he put some creams on my face that smelled local, you know what I mean. He then started rubbing my face with his fingers which I found to be a bit too intimate compared to what I am used to in Europe. His fingers occasionally went inside my mouth or eyes. He lacked precision in these movements and seemed as if he is painting a solid wall. He then started a long procedure of face and head massage that I felt was impressive. The guy had a technique. He didn’t just massage my head, instead, he made different hand shapes and used them to sometimes hammer my head.. sometimes massage my eyeball.. he even tried to somehow de-wrinkle my forehead.. and at times, I heard sounds of his hands cracking. I even had the near-death experience when he fucking cracked my neck! How could you even do that in a barbershop? I left the shop after almost an hour and felt like a new man. You don’t usually get this treatment in Europe. At least not for that price. It was, again, a skill, a craftsmanship that is fading away from the modern societies.

I then had to leave Pokhara with a personal driver (i know, luxury). He felt so cool in himself that he didn’t speak to me at all. He drove the skoda so fast and, in my perception, dangerously, that every turn and every move was a life-threatening event. Either for us or for other road participants. In Nepal, there are unexplained things on the road. Why are there a group of young guys discussing something on the road? Why is there a blind man walking with his stick on the road? Why is there a guy taking a nap on the road? A truck just stopped in the lane and the guy is cleaning the windshield? All of this is happening on an already-dangerous zigzag road in the mountain. I kept watching out of the window and never grew bored. There was always something new to see and wonder about.

After two hours, the driver dropped me at a bridge and said “you know the way? just go left after the bridge”. I carried my backpack and walked over the bridge and got lost a bit till I arrived to the resort. The view from the bridge was amazing! I enjoyed looking right and left while crossing the bridge and entertained the idea that I will stay here for one night. I already planed to wake up early to watch the Sunrise.

Although this is just a photo from the internet of the bridge, there was actually a person carrying such a big sack crossing in front of me.

Another photo stolen from this blog: http://www.everestuncensored.org/anbu-khaireni-manakamana-kurintar/

At the resort, a Nepali guy welcomed me and spoke a bit of Arabic. More than half the Nepali people I talked to have worked in the gulf and spoke a bit of broken Arabic. He pretended that he knew my reservation and checked me into a room. They also had cottages and tents for lower budgets. We had a small chit-chat and I had lunch with the people who just finished rafting. Most of them were Nepali and they seemed to have had a lot of fun. Meanwhile, Summit tried to contact me and informed me that I went to the wrong resort and that a guide will come and pick me up to take me to the right place in 5 to 10 minutes. An hour has passed. The place I waited in became very empty and not fun. Electricity was out so I also didn’t have internet since a few hours. I read and read and read until I got tired. Summit called me again and apologised. “The guide will come in 5 to 10 minutes”. He said again. Half an hour later, I was pissed off. This was not fun anymore and I was not looking forward to staying there nor to do rafting nor to anything. I felt an urge to leave this place. It was getting darker and I knew it would be sometime before I arrive to Kathmandu. But it didn’t matter. I wanted to leave this place. I walked back on the bridge and found a few people who sat on the road and appeared to appoint themselves in a job where they stop local buses. They did for me! I took a local bus to Kathmandu and was happy to get out of there.

The bus was a paradox of high and low technologies. It had outlets for electricity, a decent big TV screen, a bottle of water in front of each seat that were also reclinable. However, the over-all status of the bus seemed to belong to the last decade. Specially how it roared when we drove uphill. The bus was like a dying elephant. But the road between Pokhara and Kathmandu was also not easy. Although it was only 200km, it needed at least 6 hours if there was no traffic. Despite all that, the driver was impersonating a Fast and Furious role and didn’t break on these mountain curves. I looked to my left side and saw only 50 centimeters between us and a cliff then the river where I was supposed to raft and I was very confident that this was way more dangerous than rafting. Everybody else on board seemed relaxed so I decided to leave life in the hand of God.

The passengers argued on what movie to watch, a Hindi movie or a Nepali movie? But it was shorter than a couple deciding on a movie night. We ended up watching a hindi movie dubbed with Nepali so I didn’t understand anything! But I didn’t need to. You know, Hindi movies are exaggerated but this one was something that my brain couldn’t process nor classify. Was this even science fiction? The reason they chose a character with a big belly to be a super-strong man was unclear for me. They seemed to focus on his moustache as a sign of his manhood and an excuse of the unspeakable things he did to his attackers. Well, if you grow up watching these movies, you could have a distorted view of reality and of how life works! However, I found the movie entertaining with the amounts of “Oh shit” and “What the fuck” that I kept repeating in my head. It made my bus trip lighter and shorter.

I arrived to Kathmandu around 4 hours later and chose a good hotel for the next two days. I needed to treat myself well after the frustration of the day. I guess in general, I wanted to relax and enjoy the last few days of my trip. I was sleeping in the Royal Penguin Hotel!

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