The moment I stepped out of the hotel, a reflex smile transformed my face.
Pure blue sky with a gentle warming winter sun. I started walking towards the historical center without a particular aim. The streets here are clean but sometimes broken or irregular. I found this imperfection somehow pleasant. Two thoughts came to my mind. The first was what Marika once said in the streets of Milan; “when there is less order in the street, I feel comfortable when everything is perfect I feel pressure to be perfect as well”. I also remember the code that I have read in my teenage; “chaos breeds life..order creates habit”.
When you live long enough in countries with impeccable order like Germany and Switzerland, you forget how the situation in the rest of the world is. But this perfection somehow becomes the norm and you only notice what goes wrong. If the world around you is full of broken and irregular, you become more tolerant.
It is a calm Sunday morning, the street are quite but studded with street-food stalls. I didn’t trust my immune system yet. I need a couple of days before I completely dive in.
Many cafes are serving breakfast for tables on the streets. No inside seating due to Corona. Although I have already had breakfast in the hotel, I needed to re-live some sense of normality! I went for a second breakfast with a small came, a cappuccino and some fun rays. At that moment, I needed nothing else!
I spend the day walking around Mexico City. Moving between plazas and different neighborhoods. I enjoyed particularly the architecture in the historical center. The city is also very clean, even in small poor neighborhoods. My wake was quiet eventful, a group of young girls practicing dancing on the street. Homeless people occupied some main street and filled it with tents, a police raid with motorbikes on street vendors while those just disappeared intwo seconds beforehand..based on an alarming whistle from an informing watchman. This reminded me of Egypt where you are guaranteed to witness some action if you hang out in the street long enough. Chaos breeds life again.
They agreed to dance for you guys!
It is Valentine’s day. Here it is not just loves day but also friendship day “dia del amor y la amistad”. The streets were full of lovers holding hands and sometimes matching T-shirts. Families went to the streets with children and everyone is eating tacos! I ate a couple of meals and hoped that pork was not part of my meals. Not sure since my Spanish is barely enough for survival.
The COVID measurs are strict he and people are conformant. Everyone is wearing a mask even in the fresh air in the street. I only saw a couple of people without a mask. When entering restaurant, they put disinfectant gel in your hand. This gel smells disgusting mostly. One restaurants with spraying people even. Like spraying their clothes. One guy even turned around and they sprayed his ass which left me perplexed.
They also measure your temperature with this thermometer gun.i came to know that my average body temperature was 36! One guy measured me, when I asked how much, he said 33! Fair enough. It reminded me of the guy at the door of the COVID test center in Zurich who asked me if I was in contact with risk groups like kindergartens or nursery homes.I said “worse, I am a doctor and work with COVID patients” this left him somehow confuse and my answer had no consequences! Many of us just follow clear orders literally!
I decided to leave Mexico City for the moment and discover the rest later with Marika. I took the evening bus then to Puebla which seems to be an exciting destination with interesting stories.
I woke up tired after a long shift yesterday.. quickly packed my tiny backpack and headed to get an antigen COVID test before my flight.
Despite all the lockdowns, the restrictions and the blanket of sadness that has descended upon us, I have decided to travel again. It is dangerous indeed. It might be slightly irresponsible. But what is life without living? I guess this last sentence summarizes many of my opinions, also my advices to my patients.
I write these words on my first leg flight to Mexico. A new adventure I am very much looking forward to. I promised myself to indulge it into pleasures of the taste without counting calories.. I would like to re-establish my forgotten relationship with the sun.. and I hope to be enriched by meaningful encounters with special people.
For this trip, I have very few plans for two weeks. The first week I will be on my own discovering what life throws in my direction. The second week I will be joined by my beautiful and special lady Marika. Having received some insider travel tips from my good friend Aldo, I am excited.
Having fullfilled the requirements of the transit in Amsterdam ( 2 negative COVID Tests; one PCR within the last 72 hours and one negative antigen test within the last 4 hours), It is comforting to know that all co-passengers are probably COVID-free. It is impressive how we adapted to this new shitty situation to the degree that we forgot how normal life looked like. I bet you are like me feeling strange when you see a movie and two people come too close face to face, or shake hands. Anyway, I am going to get a taste of another aspect of life in the pandemic, traveling.
Long flights are boring. I would always prefer many connections rather than one long flight, even though it imposes a higher risk of missing a connection. At least I would move more and have more input. I landed in Mexico City Airport. Crossing the immigration control was smooth and friendly and ended with “welcome in Mexico” from the officer. Me being a holder of an Egyptian passport, it’s not trivial to move between countries. The airport and the metro stations were very clean. I don’t know why this is surprising.. I guess in this trip as well I would be confronting my prejudices. The two metro stations that I saw were interesting. One was almost an exhibition about space, physics, history of the humanity and origin of the universe. They even had multiple diagram explaining the LHC and Higgs boson. The other station had a lot of art paintings and photography of graffitis. The people in the metro seemed to be regular tired citizens. Looking at their hands you could see they had manual jobs. In Arabic we say “Time has eaten and drank on him” or some like this. Which means he has undergone many time- and weather induced transformations, increasing entropy
So that the regular guy understands physics
I went directly to the hotel hoping for a moderate jetlag and not having to try pills. Tomorrow I will think about a plan for tomorrow. Good night for me, morning for most of you.
He overfilled my plate with an exaggerated portion of meat and salad. He was generous, for no reason other than sympathy for another dark-skinned foreigner who had experienced the unwelcoming looks of the locals on the first walk in town. – “How much?” thinking that was worth a bit more than the usual 5 euros. – “Let’s make it 3 euros”. I raised an eyebrow and wondered “Thanks!” – “Good for you that you are leaving this town tomorrow” He wasn’t allowed to leave for some years. – “Hopefully you will leave soon, too!” **** A great amount of peace.. I am happy I have left that town.. Spreads of green fields with lines of almost perfectly spaced trees.. forests of half naked tall and thin trees crowded with their bare knees to yield black darkness.. and my mind wondering in this train about the point where the east gives way to the west.. where civilization and tolerance are more..
After a surprisingly not very tiring 6 hours bus ride, we arrived to Siem Reap. During my last trip in Asia, Cambodia was one of the most remarkable places I have visited in how different it was. This is why I recommended it to Morad when we were planning our trip. I usually don’t see everything. I leave some things to see if I ever come back to the same place. It is also a training for me to be in peace with “missing out”. You know the term FOMO? Fear of missing out. Sibylle, my friend, keeps saying: “Oh, you missed a great evening”. It is OK. I am aware I can’t have all the pleasures in the world. I needed to be in peace with this.
Our first itinerary in Siem Reap was the floating village which is some kilometers out of the city. We needed to buy tickets for a boat to take us to the village and back. The guy selling the ticket was the only unfriendly person we met in Cambodia so far. While we were on the counter, Morad told me “I don’t like this guy” in a voice that he heard and was surprised. I then told him directly “we don’t like you! you are the only unfriendly guy we met in Cambodia”. The guy was with minimal reactions. Then we asked a girl on the counter beside him if we could buy the tickets from her and did an unusual transaction where we gave her the money, she gave to him. He gave her the ticket, she gave it to us. At the end, there was no change in the outcome. But he was a “smug” as Morad says.
On the boat, we had a younger-looking 31 years old “Paul” as a guide and a nameless boat driver with one eye that he rested often by sleeping while driving the boat. Morad was asking me if this casual sleep-driving was ok in this part of the world. Paul gave us a historical and cultural account on the floating village. It is a poor place. Everything in this village is floating over the river; The houses, the orphanage/school, a church, a temple, a place for celebrations, etc. It is a community mostly working with fishing from the nearby lake. Paul himself was/is a fisherman but works now in tourism because he knows a bit of English. He told us a sad story about him losing his parents in a Typhoon hitting the lake in 2011, losing his wife (i didn’t understand how) and having his 5-years old child being put in the orphanage since he had problem with drinking (Paul, not the child).
The tour included a visit to crocodile farm and a catfish farm where locals used the crocodile skin and the catfish meat to make a living. The crocodile looked like statues. They were still, on top of each other and with open mouths that we thought they were plastic until some of them moved.
The rest of that day was chilling and enjoying the local food. We had a Cambodian BBQ dinner where they bring you a metal bucket of flaming coal and put it in some hole in the table. They serve then 7 kinds of raw meet, vegetables, noodles and rice. We had beef, chicken, ducks, shark, squid, frog and kangaroo. You then cook them yourself!
yum yum
Unfortunately Morad does not party, otherwise I would have hit the dance floor where that latino music is coming. We went to the hotel and prepared for the next day. Where Morad and I had different programs. I have seen Angkor Wat before. So I decided to chill for that day and go to a nice cafe where I could work on some projects I have been putting off for a long time. Morad went to discover Angkor Wat and wrote his story:
Morad says:
” Siem Reap is mostly a modest town except for one particular street. The modesty starts with the hotels breakfast and its coffee, the coffee was abysmal. We joked a little on how a country famous of coffee production, doesn’t have the culture of drinking “good coffee”, however, maybe they find it good! Today we split again, Adham is going to take care of checking out form the hotel, work somewhere on something while I go on a tour in the rightfully famous Angkor Wat temple(s). Adham has been there before and told me if there is a must see in this country, it is these temples!
I hired a tuk tuk for the day, after “negotiations”, we had a deal. Not being the most social animal, I realized at our first stop (to buy my ticket) that I don’t even know the wanker’s name. Tey, was my driver. Like almost everyone here, very friendly, smiling a lot and has a laid back attitude. Some of the people here are suspiciously nice/kind, you know, so nice that you question how genuine it is! We drove through the countryside for a few kilometers to the north, the first temple Angkor Wat is an impressive huge group of buildings. To have an idea, the first temple alone is bigger than the actual town Siem Reap!! I wander how much effort, time, mastery and suffering were put into making this place! It’s boiling hot, many people but I think much less than a “usual” day. I needed a few seconds to get to a tower that typically takes a 30 minute queuing! Plenty of people taking pictures, many “professional” photoshoots in the gardens and many couples visiting together. I just walked about not committing to the visit path, my ears catches the odd “fun fact” from local guides giving tours. The atmosphere reminds me of that of the pyramids a little. I left to the second temple, Angkor Thom, the one with the smiley faces. Much much smaller in itself, but I would say it is my favorite. It has that extra attention to details. Everything is a bit more tidy and elaborate. Less people.. better for me. My ears catches some of these info. Germany renovated these stairs.. Japan renovated that floor..etc. Good to see wealthy countries supporting beauty and culture!
We moved on to the next temples which I skimmed through like an “ok” book. They look similar, less fascinating but still nice. It seems that very few people do make it to the last temple. Around all temples, there are dozens of children selling water, clothes,..etc, dozens of tuk tuks.. by the look of it, almost everyone in this town is making their living off these temples and the tourists.
I told Tey we are done, lets go home, he was happy, we didn’t take very long. He was happier when I told him to drop me at the same place where we met, there he hangs out with his other tuk tuk friends. I had some snacks from the supermarket, as similar as I could find to what I had in Taiwan years ago. Then walked my way through the killing heat to find Adham in the Pub Street. He was working on his laptop in a pub and the whole sitting made him look like a drug lord in Cuba, so rich he just does organization from some restaurant in an oven hot backstreet. We chess..”
“Adham, wake up! Let’s go to the cable car”.. Morad and I got ready quickly before 9 and went to the street to look for a quick breakfast, checked out and went on our way to the cable car and Big Buddha, or namely Ngong Ping and Tian Tan :). It was a long ride with the Metro and then a long queue waiting for the tickets. When Morad gets bored waiting, he starts punching me in the back. He is passionate about boxing. This was an ice breaker for two american guys in the line, James and Dani, we started chatting. The cable car ride was gorgeous. Around 25 minutes to the hills where the big Buddha sits 😀 I have a photo from the internet for you since we don’t have any better.
Stolen from the internet. It was a bit cloudy bit still gorgeous
In the hill, we met James and Dani again by accident. They are friends since 45 years and now they are traveling together. They stopped here on the way to Bali. James is married to another man since 28 years. They live in NYC and we had such a short but nice encounter. We exchanged contacts. It is a pity that afterwards we fly out.
Dani, Morad, James and Adham
We didn’t have much time to go up and say hi to big Buddha.. instead, we took somephotos and headed back to the cable car, experienced more rudeness from some taxi drivers and then took the bus to the airport. It was all last minute that we had to run in the airport to catch the flight. We made it to the gate a few minutes before the scheduled take off. Then the plane was delayed on the runway for 45 minutes. Normal, no?
It is the national cambodian Lanmei. Morad asked me if it was something like Ryanair since they didn’t serve us even a glass of water in more than two hours. The crew was very nice though. We tried to catch some sleep and landed nicely in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. My memories from 4 years ago were that it is a very poor country. Most of the smart people were killed by the Khmer rouge in the 1990s. A couple of MILLION people were executed. A sad story that still lives in the lives of many cambodians. Crossing the borders was smooth, the airport surprised me by having some really beautiful and modern corners. A taxi ride to our hotel costed $15. On the way you could see minor girls riding motorbikes and seemed to be discussing their nail polish. Put your eyes on the road, girl!! It was a huge contrast between Hong Kong people and Cambodians. Even after few encounters, the people in Cambodia were so polite, so friendly and nice. The taxi driver was very nice and we cracked a couple of jokes and laughed together. The hotel is cheap and great. We sat on the skybar on the roof for a couple of chess games and nice drinks. A few european chicks are also in the hotel but nothing good enough to mobilise our flirting tricks and put them into action. Tomorrow will be a relaxing day for me and maybe more discovery for Morad.
Cambodia is a Kingdom. Its people are Khmer. Which is the ethnicity of around 97% of the people. They are mostly buddhist. The Khmer language is “The language with the most letters is Khmer (Cambodian), with 74 (including some without any current use). According to Guinness Book of World Records, 1995, the Khmer alphabet is the largest alphabet in the world. It consists of 33 consonants, 23 vowels and 12 independent vowels.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khmer_alphabet In the next few days, I shall try to learn these letters or at least to write my name in Khmer.
A bad sleep, we needed coffee. In a local restaurant we got some bakery and toasts. Locals were having the same food they would have for lunch or dinner. It is just the same food and they ate it anytime. Or so it seemed. After breakfast we went to look for coffee 😀 it seems that we repeat meals twice in a conflict between trying the local food and getting satisfied with meals.
A long walk, a ferry ride to another island, a stroll in the turtle-shaped convention center, going to Ocean’s Park but not going inside because it is too expensive and not worth it, going to Stanely market and finding it disappointing, Morad wanting to try snake soup but the shop was closed, Tattoo art gallery that was supposed to be open from 6 to 8 but the gallery itself closes at 7, a Jazz bar that was too loud and crowded for a pleasant experience. It was a day full of us trying to do things and not getting the destinations reached.. however, the journey was more interesting.. Our walks to these places exposed us to many small new things dispersed here and there. Alongside a lot of time for talking. Today, Morad and I had a loooooot of conversations. I am writing this post now at 1:30 after a long conversation for the past two hours or more. We discussed our perspectives on love and relationships, on different countries and cultures we have been exposed to and about different plans and dreams.
Hong Kong with the turtle-shaped Convention Center Morad showing his not-so-special plastic bagWaiting for Morad to use the toilette in a cultural center
It has been only three days.. but somehow it is tiring that in general, the interactions with the locals here have been deprived of manners. No greetings, and if we start, they are rarely responded to. Same with a friendly smile. It is as if we are two different species or two different “things”. Well, actually as Morad says, by observing them with each other, this seems to be a cultural thing.. people bump into each other in the crowded subway and then separate again without any words of pardon or sorry. Like particles bombarding around and separating to go into their ways again. Somehow this lack of beauty in human interaction dries my soul. I realised again how important eye-contact is to me. The little decorations of our days in form of “good morning”, “thank you”, “have a nice day”, and “good luck”. We had many transactions here but most of them were dry and forgettable. Well, we discussed this manner with Vincent and Cheng a couple of nights ago, do men and women flirt in the street or approach each other? the answer was No. This is highly unlikely and it is not in the culture. You never talk to people who are not your friends or acquaintances. Everybody is focused on their way or their phone. Morad wondered why is the body language so minimal? Could it be the that the language is so strong that they need little support of hand or body gestures?
Meanwhile, we saw an italian girl talking in the phone facing the door of the subway. She was talking to her friends and seeing her reflections and using a full-programmed body language that you would think her friend is running outside the subway (dangerous! nobody does that). We still have a few days in Asia.. let’s see how our impressions will develop.
There is a certain charm in signs in a new country. Morad is photographing many of them. In particular we found this sign “no spitting” at the elevator. I find it interesting when there are many other sections in two languages but the “no spitting” part is also specially written in Urdu. Directed message?
Mama, where is dad? he is in jail for not buckling up in the bus:
hmm..
Tomorrow we fly to Cambodia, it is my second visit. I plan to revisit a couple of things and discover new things with Morad. I never thought I would visit Cambodia again.. but here we are, four years later! You can relive my last Asia trip in 2014 through this link: http://adham.elshahabi.com/blog/category/travel-diaries/asia-2014/
Here are some of the photos that Morad took. He posts most of the pictures in his instagram stories:
https://www.instagram.com/moradsays/
Landed in Hong Kong after a looong trip. Globalisation makes many airports look similar. While other passengers crossed the immigration smoothly and quickly, we had our “you-are-an-arab” welcome by having the officers close their offices and accompany us another area that seemed reserved for passengers with different shades of brown-skin. Nonetheless, the officers were extremely polite. We had to wait a bit while they checked all the documents and prepared what seemed to be the smallest Visa/entry permit in the world. Morad busied himself with tinder during our waiting. I sat beside him observing his swiping finger that moved to the left in a semi-automatic movement. Welcome to Asia! Left.. left.. left.. Seemed like he was swiping with the same girl to the left in different outfits.
Permit to enter Hong Kong
We checked in our hotel in the 28th floor. We hurried up downstairs (:D) to meet Morad’s friend Nelson who flew from Taiwan to meet us. They first met in Taiwan in 2011 and then a couple of times in Europe. Nelson brought his friend Cheng who met his own friend Vincent in the street and brought him along. After greetings and introductions they took us to a restaurant in the 7th floor in some building. We would have never been in such a place using tripadvisor.
Nice conversations over dinner. Nelson is passionate about aviation, Vincent about animals and Cheng about life. They explained to us a lot of things about Hong Kong and Taiwan, the differences with China and some cultural aspects about life and love. The food was delicious, specially a fish cooked with sweet and sour sauce. The table had also shrimps, duck, chicken, jellyfish and shark fins soup (!) which seemed like a celebration of human domination of other earth animals. Check this video 😀
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctPdITtFXFE
Vincent, Cheng, Morad, Adham and NelsonVincent, Morad, Adham, Nelson and Cheng 😀
After dinner, we bid the guys farewell, went to the hotel bar for a drink and chess and a happy night sleep.
Good morning, it is the 11th of October. We woke up and saw the view. Hong Kong downtown is composed of many thin and tall buildings. Like a pack of toothpicks. We found a place for breakfast and got an unusual combination of eggs, chicken breasts and toast plus the coffee that was unexpectedly good. After a short stroll around the city we went to meet Nelson again. This time he introduced us to Saravanan from Malaysia who introduced us all to Marco (from Taiwan). They both work in Cathy Pacific Airlines as flight attendants. They have planed to takes us to eat a local food called “Dim Sum”. Since Morad and I don’t eat Pork, they figured out that a good place for us to try the local food was the a local Mosque :D. We loved how these guys just took us where we can eat even without asking us about our preferences or if it was ok for us. Relaxingly rightly assuming trust. Again, great food with great people. We were exposed to fun stories from the lives of flight attendants as well as hearing about different aspects of living in Hong Kong as a foreigner. After lunch and a stroll, Nelson took us with the bus to The Peak. A small shopping mall on top of a hill overlooking the islands with a great view over most of Hong Kong. Nelson works in a pharmacy that belongs to his family and is a very relaxed and smart guy. Warm-hearted. I found it entertaining that he met his girlfriend in a bread-baking course 😀 he has now a basic license to make bread. Cool, no?
The view from The Peak, one of these buildings was our hotel.
Nelson had to catch his flight back, we had to change the hotel. After staying the first night in a fancy hotel we moved to a much much much less fancy guest house. The fun started by the comic creature which I believe was a woman at the checkin desk. (S)he communicated to us that we will be sharing a 130 cm bed and that this is a “Standard double room” that we booked. Her not so enthusiastic assistent took us to the room that is probably the smallest room I have ever seen in my life. Morad could touch two opposing walls while standing in the middle. However, the room had an airconditioning, a fan, a hair dryer, a fridge, a small bathroom and even a clock (that does not work). Morad said that we will manage somehow!
Morad is excited about the room
It is dinner time and Morad wants to try exotic food! We walked to the Temple street where you find many stalls for handcraft and very dirty looking restaurants. I bought a new chess set (I collect those) and we chose a restaurant dirty enough to feel the local experience. We tried to chose the table but the old Hong Kongi (or Hongi) lady insisted we sit in a particular table. No problem. Morad ordered fried frog legs. I ordered Fish lips Congee (which is like a soup) or something. Us pointing at the english name of the order was the last of our meaningful communication in that place. The followup questions where not possible to understand nor to seek further explanations in sign language. Morad said “Well, whatever will come, we will eat it. Probably we will never know what we ate anyway”. Indeed, came the first dish, we were not sure if it was the fish lips since I imagined a bowl of lips ready to kiss. What came instead was one big fish head with some skull parts and some soft parts. At the beginning we couldn’t tell it was a fish. Morad thought it was the frog. It didn’t make since since there was one hard shell of bone which couldn’t fit any anatomical part of a frog. Unless it was the shoulder plate of some huge frog which I wouldn’t guess it lives in China :D. The second dish came and it was obvious that it is some creatures legs. So everything was sorted. It was delicious. Not as froggy as it sounds. We ate this strange combination, paid, and left to look for a real dinner 😀
L
Vincent has told me that foot massage is something there. I should be looking for a foot logo. If the foot logo has a smily, that means you can get some sexual massage as well. We went for the non-smily foot, well plus the head, which turned to be a great relaxing and sometimes painful experience. After the massage I felt somehow strange and wondered if the masseur used some reflexology secret tricks to change who I am and play in my personality. I was nonetheless relaxed.
We decided to end the day in a steak restaurant. It was a much earned end for the day. I ordered a mix grill which included beef, a prawn and a pigeon, extending the list of my consumed animals in the last 24 hours.
Now we are both in the room preparing to sleep in the 130cm bed and looking for accommodations in the next days with an eye more attentive to details!
I didn’t know the word “Memorandum”. Morad suggested it as a title for our travel diary. He likes fancy words!
Hit the road jack! It is us, Adham ElshAhabi and Morad ElshEhabi. Brothers with slightly different last names thanks to some clerk making passports and deciding the spelling in Egypt. Morad and I have traveled often together. Sometimes just us and often with other friends. Now we are set on a further and bigger adventure together in new lands. Here, I will be writing about our times together. Events, places, people, and conversations. Morad and I are very close but veeeerrrrry different. This trip is probably going to be a theater for these differences at play. Observing different events and sharing our widely different perspectives on life and living.
It all starts as usual, minimal packing while discussing two ways of doing the same thing. Morad loves standards. He wants to follow the state of the art in everything he does. He seeks to know the “rules” and use them to excel.
I hate rules! well, not true. I like rules. I hate to follow them. I don’t trust the “best way” of doing anything. I have, Morad agrees, the constant delusion that I could find a new better way of doing things.
The train to Frankfurt and many games of chess where Morad enjoys a higher percentage of winnings. He likes to refer to Bernouli’s law of large numbers. Which states that more times you repeat an event, the higher the probability to get a representing statistics of its different outcomes. He often wins and often shouts “Bernoooouuuli ya habibi”. He has read books about chess and its strategies. He is quiet didactic about it. I use more my gut feelings and unpredictability. Which often gets my king stranded on the board contemplating about the beginning of the chain of wrong decisions that let to his misery.
In Frankfurt, the Emirates flight was scheduled at 22:20 at night. The first leg is set to Dubai. Morad used his charm at the checkin counter to ask for more legroom. The lady behind the counter with exaggerated eyelashes moved things around and gave us the best seats in the economy section; at the emergency exit. While Morad says that this is one of the few times he flirts, I only saw him put a friendly smile! He didn’t really need more!
In the airplane we had a few hours of waiting. There is ice on the wings and somehow someone couldn’t manage to remove it. We won’t fly, they said. Then we will fly, they said. Then no.. really we won’t fly. It seems that a german official in the airport has given the permission to fly after 23:00 o’clock (which i came to know is the last time for takeoffs), and then revoked it! A huge plane with two decks had to go back to the terminal and all passengers need a hotel! Chaos! Emirates seems to have won “the best airline in the world” award. However, their on-the-ground management of this issue was disappointing. As if it happened for the first time and as if there were no protocols for such circumstances. Morad was out of glucose, I tried to convince him to consume a sugar bag that I have kept with me. He refused. He is very picky about how healthy everything should be. I am pickier about how tasty everything should be.
We spent the night in the Marriott and indulged in a long conversation over breakfast about the previous day. Emirates have rebooked our flight to 15:15 the next day which screwed up our Dubai plan. Originally we had around 12-hours transit and got Visas to check the city. Dubai scored 4th this year for the number of visitors worldwide. I guess we are not meant to increase the number. Well, as my mom always says, “Everything has its time, my son!”
Other than Morad, I have two companions in this trip, Jose Saramago with his book “Blindness” (thanks Merve for the gift!) and Daniel Kahneman with his book “Thinking fast and slow”. Morad reads “A Gentleman in Moscow” by Amor Towles and two audiobooks “The History of Jazz” and “Mind Gym”. As Morad says, It is holidays, with so little to do and all the time in the world to do it. This is what we will practice in our first destination, Hong Kong!
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.
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!
Goooood morning.. It is still cloudy and I couldn’t see the mountain. But good. I still see the green hills around. I went for breakfast in the garden where Hanna was sitting and checking her iPhone. In front of her, was her journal and a pen. We chatted a bit and then I found myself asking her if she can read me a random page from her journal. It was too private.. but come on.. we will most probably never see each other again. She actually accepted and read to me one of her reflections two days ago. Which she describes as “the most reflective entry I have written in my journal”. In her post, she discusses some people and conversations she had in the trek and her childhood and how she grew up to fullfil a certain image required by her parents that made her unhappy. I appreciated her sharing these private thoughts. There was then a relatively weird atmosphere since she felt a bit exposed to me, a person she does not know almost anything about. I tried to soften the conversation by a couple of jokes and we then had a couple of nice discussions.
We decided to hike all together downhill. Hanna, her two companions, Ram and I. With all of my luggage on my back, it wasn’t very easy. Although yesterday I didn’t have any difficulty trekking uphill, today I felt a bit weaker. My legs started shaking with each step and I miserably observed my lack of fitness for such activities. Well, I play football weekly, I go the gym. But I guess this wasn’t enough for the Himalayas! With many stops for rest and with Ram’s help, we made it downhill in a couple of hours where we met very old ladies who spoke English and sold us unnecessary armbands and beads.
We drove to the hotels where I said bye to Hanna and and agreed with Ram and her companions to go out for a boys night in the evening where we go for dinner and some dancing in a local Nepali place. Until then, I spent my time relaxing, chilling and strolling around town.
Due to the similarity in the food, religion, language and somehow the culture, you would also assume a bigger range of similarities between India and Nepal. However, Nepali people are a bit different. They are very punctual for example. All my appointments with Nepali people were punctual and respected which rarely happens in India or with Indians (DJ :D). There is also a certain sparkle in their eyes that shines some kind of intelligence. Being aware of the inaccessibility of good education, I wonder what gives me this impression. It seems to me that the culture is rich and that Nepali people are emotionally mature. The Nepali book I am reading has also given me this impression. Driving around Nepal, I try to observe the people in their small encounters and fantasise about the various conversations they might be having, the gossips about their neighbours, and what they share with each other about sufferings and dreams.
Ram was punctual. We went together to pick up Lakhpa and Mingmar (I am pretty sure the spellings are wrong). They spoke Nepali a lot which was very relaxing for me. They discussed at length where to go and then decided to go to a local Nepali dance place that is the Nepali analog to a dance club. We took a taxi and went there. It was in the local city far from where the tourists go. I must confess that I wanted a more western place. But then I just followed them and decided to wait for whatever comes. The place was damp and mouldy. I asked myself “what am I doing here?” It was an eventful night. I just sat there and observed what seemed to be a different world for me. The stage had a carpet and each one of the performers had to take their shoes off before climbing up the stage. They were very casual and checked their cell phones and drank water on stage. Having a mysterious red light in the stage, my first thought that this will be an erotic show and that the guys brought me here for an unforgettable night. It was not! It was unforgettable but totally unsexy! The performers were a mixture of men, women, young girls most of them were rather unattractive except two of them that were acceptable. A blind young man joined the performers to play the flute. Also he took off his shoes and put them in a safe place that he seemed to always reserve. I observed him with rather respect. The performance started with traditional singing and a huge woman that started dancing. I found refuge behind a pillar that restricted my visual field and protected me from this, forgive me, visual pollution. I had no solution for the music though. The first few songs were rather painful and boring. I failed to grasp the rhythm and the dance. Mingmar seemed to share with me the same opinion which made me have more faith in Nepali taste. Mingmar said “I need one pillar here”.. he envied me! 😀 We ate and drank and were served by very young girls. The 2nd part of the performance was more dance-encouraging. So we went to the dance floor and tried to dance. I tried to mimic their dance moves which didn’t seem to follow any physical law or maybe Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. But I had fun. Rochsa, an 18 years old girl wanted to dance with me and asked me if I am married or unmarried. She gave thumbs up when she knew I am not married and Ram tried to make more fire in the atmosphere! The performing band seemed to be creative and tried to incorporate some English words for me “I love youuuuu”. They then sang what Ram translated to me: “Here is one foreginer who does not understand the language… ♫♫♫ But no worries, the guy with the cap is translating for him… ♫♫♫” The guy with the cap was Ram who was euphoric on the dance floor! We danced a bit more and then decided it was time to go. Rochsa gave me her phone number and wrote “call me plz” I am going to sell her number to the highest bid.We left the place in a nice mood and had a long walk to the hotel in the peaceful night and discussed the events of the evening. Today was my last day in Pokhara. Tomorrow I should start the drive to Kathmandu and go raftinggggggg…
