Animals in Chitwan

Lesson learned: always carry the good camera.

On our initial expedition into the jungles of Chitwan National Park, we countered a Sloth Bear and a Rhino. We chased the Rhino around for a bit, and eventually got a really good clear view of her from behind some trees. The rhino stared directly at me, both ears cocked forward, trying to figure me out, before she finally decided that I wasn’t worth bothering with, and she trotted off into the heavy scrub.

I had only brought my tiny point-and-shoot. I have brilliant, sharp, full-color memories of that rhino, but only a couple of blurry, distant photographs to share with the rest of the world. I took my DSLR and telephoto lens with me on all further expeditions, but to no avail. Apologies.

On our second expedition, we were stopped in our tracks by some distant rumbling on the other side of the bushes. The guide scouted ahead, and quickly hurried back. We heard the sound again, more distinctly a growl. “Tiger. That tiger.” We all stood stock still for a few moments. “The tiger is hunting now. Old tiger. Very dangerous.”

With that, our guide radioed in for Elephant Support. Sadly, the elephants were all off grazing in the fields and were unable to be deployed to our position. We stood about for another fifteen minutes, carefully watching the bushes and surrounding trees. Eventually, our guide decided that if the tiger was going to eat us, he would have done so already. And we continued on our hike.

In the back of my head, I had a vivid daydream about beating the tiger back with a long tree branch (while taking photographs with my free hand), or maybe engaging in a bit of tiger wrassling, but in truth it’s probably all for the best that our tiger encounter did not escalate.

Other than that, we countered a variety of deer, a couple of mongoose, elephants, some wild chickens, millipedes, some toads, a peacock, lizards, a could of wild boar, and more birds than I could shake a stick at. The crocodiles stayed at the bottom of the river, out of sight, quite anti-climatically.

between the miles

Too bad that the best copy I can find of this song online is an Air France advert.

But at least it’s a pretty advert.

End of the road

… but not the end of the blog.  I’ve been keeping little journal notes, but haven’t had reliable internet access frequently enough to keep posting.  I’ll flesh out my trip in more detail over the next few days.

Today, Sarah and I depart Kathmandu to begin our two-day journey home.  From here to a five-hour layover in Delhi, to a 12 hour layover in Hong Kong (thankfully, we’ve booked ourselves a day shift in the airport hotel there), then on to Taipei and finally home.  See you all soon.

A little bit about the gear I brought with me, if it interests you:

The Useless

It seems that everything I read about travel through Tibet and Nepal was oriented towards the cooler months.  During the low season, it never really dropped below 70 degrees Fahrenheit.  All of this cold weather gear turned out to be dead weight:

• thermal underwear and undershirt
• warm long-sleeve shirt and icebreaker
• down vest
• fleece jacket

Similarly, my water bottle was useless.  In the few places where I could refill my water bottle, it was easier to just re-use one of my disposable plastic empties.

The rain coat I brought was useful exactly once, but even then it was hot enough that the monsoon rains felt cleansing and refreshing rather than a bother.  The rain pants I brought went unused, and were too hot to even be useful as a spare pair of pants.

The Useful

Next time, more of the following:

• underwear!  Underwear asks for so little, and gives back so much.  The four pairs I brought with me were insufficient for my needs.  Don’t think about this one too hard, folks.
• Lightweight socks: except for one pair of sport socks, I only brought warm wool socks with me on this trip.  A better approach would have been to bring two pairs of wool socks, and a lot of polypropylene liners that could be used with or without the wool outer-sock.
• I can’t believe I only brought one pair of pants with me on this trip.  For a month.  Don’t think about this too hard, folks.
• A little bit of salt or leech oil would have been handy.  The leeches were easy enough to scrape off with a sharp rock, but as Grams discovered the hard way, the leeches do leave little barbed mouth-parts in the wound if you pluck them from the skin this way.
• more SD cards for cameras.  These can be acquired abroad, but are of dubious quality and not significantly cheaper than Fry’s.
• a better lock.  My little luggage lock got the job done, but there were a handful of times when I would have felt safer with a nice, bullet-proof Master lock.
• Pepto Bismol: this turned out to be impossible to acquire in China.  After hunting high and low, I did eventually find some dubious Bismuth Pectin, which is similar, but when your stomach is aching in a strange land, there’s some comfort in the familiar.  Pepto is a much better first treatment for food poisoning than Imodium, or Cipro.
• Toilet paper.  Oh dear god.  Never travel Asia without your own roll of toilet paper.
• More pens.  One pen lacks required redundancy.
• A small microfiber towel would have been handy for some of the dirtier hostels.
• After taking lots of pictures of people and showing them how it turned out, I really regretted not making space in my gear for a good Polaroid camera and some film.  That would have been a smashing success in some of the villages we visited.
• A tiny sound recorder.

The awesome

These things were awesome:

• my DSLR camera kit got a ton of use, and never felt like a burden.  Ordinarily, I hate having a big “tourist” flag hanging around my neck like that, but in this part of Asia nobody’s going to mistake me for a local.
• the packs performed perfectly.  The REI daypack with the integral rain cover was useful over and over again.
• I only had one pair of pants with me, but fortunately they were boss: cool enough for the jungle, tough enough to go bushwhacking, pockets with velcro seals for camera, a zippered safety pocket for extra money and passports, zip-off pant legs.  Wash by night, dry by morning.  Perfect.
• These Teva sport sandals that I’ve had for a couple of years now were once again perfect.  A good compromise between airflow and foot protection, I got to wade through the mud, abseil down waterfalls, and still be a crucial 5mm above whatever the hell that is in the streets of Kathmandu.
• The silk sleep sack came in handy in some of the sketchier youth hostels.  “That’s the … blanket?  I’m not touching that.”  I’m convinced that it protected me from bed bugs and worse on a handful of occasions.
• The Diamox was essential.  I have faith in my physical resilience and adaptability, and the Diamox felt like an unnecessary crutch — but in truth, ascending from 3000m to 5000m in a few days was serious business.  I experienced a few of the minor symptoms of AMS, and I’m sure that without the Diamox my symptoms might have been worse, perhaps even life-threatening.
• Sarah Grams was awesome.  I’m really happy I remembered to bring a Sarah Grams with me.  She was definitely an enabler and an instigator and challenged me to have a much more interesting trip than I would have had without her.  Everyone should always pack a G-unit with them whenever they travel.

back in Kathmandu

Spent the last three days in Chitwan National Park. Saw a sloth bear and a rhino. We heard the tiger on the other side of the bush, but am happy to report that there was no additional contact. Tomorrow, we begin our epic flight back home! Kathmandu to Delhi to Hong Kong to Taipei to San Francisco.

See you all soon.

rewind to Beijing: last evening in town (6/8)

After the Dengyue Temple, Sarah and I wandered down to a neighboring park, looking for a Peking Duck restaurant that Lonely Planet had suggested.

As we entered the park, we noted that the Animal Sacrifice Pavilion was just down the path to the left, past the toilets and the minigolf course.

A few photos of my favorite kid in the park. Big smile, awesome mohawk, and a t-shirt that matched his dad’s.

My beijing duck at Xiao Wang’s Home Restaurant was fantastic! Very much worth falling off the vegetarian bus for.

This older man was playing hackeysack with a toy similar to a heavy badminton bird. He was amazingly agile for his age — he stood there for about an hour, bouncing the toy on his foot for a hundred-count, before resting and then starting over again. I was a little shy, but Sarah was able to break through the language barrier and we all played a little hackeysack together.

Kathmandu

You have not experienced Kathmandu until you have smelled Kathmandu. That is not to say that Kathmandu smells bad — I’ve encountered more fecund odors in the Tenderloin of San Francisco. Rather, the melange that pervades this city exhibits texture and subtlety, and leaves a lasting impression on the olfactory afficionado’s nose. Eau du Kathmandu is roughly equal parts:

• diesel exhaust and poorly maintained petrol engines.
• human effluvia
• rotten garbage in piles amidst the back alleys
• delicious spices from various continents
• burning incense and sage

The overall effect is not entirely unpleasant, but is distinct.  I feel that one could blindfold me and fly me around the world, and yet with one solid lungful of city air, I could say, “Yes.  This, here, is Kathmandu.”

Jonny Pilgrim is unstuck in time

Sorry folks. I’m about 3 weeks behind in my blogging. I’m trying to copy my thoughts from my journal up into the blog, but it’s not going to be in anything even remotely like chronological order. Thanks for putting up with me.

rewind to Beijing: Dengyue Temple (6/8)

After the Great Wall, Sarah and I grabbed lunch at Sequoia Cafe and marvelled at how good some vegetables and cheese between two slices of bread (with mayonaise — mayonaise!)  can taste after a week of asian food. 

We then pushed through the embassy quarter (all signs in Mandarin and Cyrillic) to get to the Taoist vision of Hades, Dengyue Temple.  This modest temple is ringed with an array of galleries depicting the bureacracy of the afterlife. 

Each gallery depicts a court within the afterlife bureaucracy, presided over by a Hell Officer. In an oddly surreal twist, the Hell Officer who presides over each court seems to be the same individual wearing slightly different clothing. I can easily see him ordering me to return to the Department of Meritorious Deeds to get my 27B-stroke-6 stamped by his identical twin brother.

The plaques accompanying each gallery explained each court’s function. A few are transcribed here for your edification:

Department in Charge of Suffering and Distress
:
Taoist creed holds suffering and distress that bothers anyone is in fact a kind of punishment that he has to endure on account of his misdeeds. So the department teaches people not to complain about their fate but to perform fine deeds so as to keep off misfortunes. Taoism relates a man’s fate closely to his conduct of performing good deeds in his lifetime and it is a way to satisfy people’s wish to change their fate and destiny.

Department for Resurrection:
Superstition holds that any individual will go into hell after his death. But in case the hell officer finds out that his death is premature because of a mistake in his execution, or that the individual should deserve an increase of longevity owing to his meritorious deeds, then this department has the function of resurrecting that individual.

Longevity Department:
Longevity is a universal desire. Taoist belief holds that people should refrain from slaughtering domestic animials and should live frugally and control their sensual desires.

Punishment Department:
“Punishment” means to pay back evil with evil. As this department is the headquarters for controlling the punishment it supervises the measures taken as punishment such as reducing a life-span, confiscating property, instant punishment in one’s lifetime. It will make sure that measures taken will be unbiased, just, and accurate.

Department for Demons and Monsters:
“Demons and Monsters” are kinds of devils that often harm people in the dead of night. The department controls and supervises them and forbids them to wander and bewilder people.

Department for Implementing 15 kinds of Violent Death:
Taoist doctrine believes that those who commit evil deeds will fall victim of their own evil deeds, as a death punishment ranging from death caused by starvation, clubbing, revengeful murder, killing in battle, or death caused by fierce animals or snakes, burning fire or flood, poisoning, outbreak of madness, falling into an abyss, tricks of an evil person or a ghosts, incurable diseases, and suicide.

Swayambhunath (6/23)

Yesterday afternoon, the clouds finally burst and we were treated to our first real Nepali monsoon. Sadly, unlike in Taxi Driver, the torrential rains did not successfully wipe all the scum off the streets, but it did move it around a bit.

Around 6pm the sun finally broke through the crowds, so Sarah and I jumped into a cab over to Swayambhunath, better known as the Monkey Temple, as soon as the setting sun broke through the clouds. The taxi got us to the bottom of the mountain just as the sun was starting to set behind the other side, and we were faced with a long winding stairway to the top.

I was a little afraid that we would only see a handful of sad, soggy monkeys. Or angry, asshole monkeys. No need to fear — the temple was mobbed with dozens of spry, excited Rhesus monkeys who barely took notice of me and my camera. The monkeys had no fear and practically chased us up the stairs. We were treated to the sight of mommies with babies, adolescent monkeys sitting atop stupas, and hot monkey loving (I took pictures).

(* — Actually, there was one asshole monkey who rejoiced in shaking the hell out of a tree as tourists walked underneath it, so that it would rain on us. Thanks, asshole monkey!)

The stupa at the top of the mountain, and the view of the surrounding city, was beautiful by twilight. The top of the mountain was overrun with dogs. Strangely, the dogs and monkeys seemed to be maintaining an uneasy peace with each other. Perhaps the monkeys were routinely fed by pilgrims, and the street dogs hung around there to chase after the scraps. I was hoping that perhaps the monkeys kept the dogs as pets, but alas I observed no evidence of this behavior.