Kata to Kathmandu

Do forgive me readers, I realise that today marks the 1 month anniversary since my last post, where I left you on the warm shores of Kata Beach.  Since I arrived in my new digs life has been fairly constant (in a good way), but add to that no internet (connected to my computer at least) and I seemed to develop writers block.  I promise this will not happen again.

Before I go into what exactly has been keeping me so occupied, let us cut back for a moment...

Kata Noi Beach

view from local bus

My time in Phuket was well distributed between soaking up Vitamin D on the beach, savouring seriously good Thai at my local canteena, discovering different haunts around the island, meeting up with the local English congregation, seeking out legitimate massage parlours (avoiding 'the happy beginnings/happy endings' style massages which are pretty common in the south and are barely more than a soft rub with a few knuckle cracks here and there - slightly disappointing) and...attempting to go witnessing…

taxi Thai-style

The Sunday after I arrived I had an adventure making my way into Phuket town for the meeting.  I set out with high spirits on a local bus into town and then took a motorbike taxi (my favourite mode of transport in Thailand) to the meeting – very cool!  When I arrived (on time might I add) I found the kingdom hall packed with brothers and sisters from all over the world: Japan, Austria, Germany, Denmark, Lebanon, the UK, France, Australia... some in Phuket on vacation, others, indefinitely.  It felt like a mini international convention with lots of excitement in air.

I met a lovely brother from Wollongong who had just moved to Phuket after serving in Myanmar for the last 4 years with his wife.  After the meeting he took me along with an Austrian brother (the first stone mason I have met to date) and a couple of German sisters to a beautiful beach called Nai Harn for the sunset…it was a goooooooood sunset and probably appeared even more beautiful as we only enjoy the sun rising on the East Coast of Australia. 

Sunset at Nai Harn

The rest of my solitude was spent at Kata Noi, a beautiful little beach just south of Kata, with a few less bare bottoms littering the scenery.  I found a little hideaway on the southern end of the beach just under a  bar called ‘on the rocks’ (literally on the rocks) where I attempted to study but found myself mostly siesta-ing…it is hard life, but someone has got to do it...

Kata Noi

My first attempt at witnessing, though I set out with great determination, did not exactly happen.  After taking 'the long and winding road' to the territory at a coastal town north of Patong Beach, called Kamala, there was some confusion with the directions resulting in my pacing up and down the highway for an hour or so.  And so after glimpsing the inviting waters of Surin Beach I finally relented and opted to dive into the water fully-clothed instead…lovely!

Surin Beach

Inu and I

My second attempt was much more eventful.  The morning of my departure I went witnessing with a lovely Japanese sister called Inu who had lived in Sydney a couple of years back and had been in the Cambodian congregation.  Her sisters had previously been pioneering in Nepal so it was nice to hear some of their experiences.*  We had a couple of nice discussions, one with an American man, and another with two English lads in Thailand for Muay Thai (Thai kick-boxing...whatever blows your hair back I suppose).  Interestingly, the hardest people to witness to in Phuket are Germans and Australians...

After we finished, a Finnish sister and a English sister from Portsmouth with her three gorgeous kids (with officially the cutest accents - think young Fanny Price from Mansfield Park) took me for lunch via a beautiful lookout from the southern end of the island.

After 'le grand tour' Eleanor and Zander showed me a couple of things about Thai food...

Back at my hotel I squeezed in a massage, followed my a quick swim and then found it was time to say goodbye, and commence the journey back to Bangkok...

I slept wonderfully on the return trip, so much so that I forgot one of my bags (to all those who have travelled with me, yes, I'm sure there were a few kodak moments of my deep, open-mouthed slumber).  Alas, though I was truly proud of my keen bartering for a taxi back to Khao San Road, my pride quickly dissipated into sorrow as I found myself in another taxi backtracking to the bus station in search of my forsaken bag.  This time my tears seemed to take affect and the lovely taxi driver took mercy on me and helped me track down my missing goods to a nearby bus shelter...Triumph!

The last couple of events in Bangkok were a little frustrating but happily they were all forgotten when I hopped into 'the world's best taxi' - a self declared title of my taxi driver in the photo below...This man, a retired soldier, collects currency from all around the world as tips, and has turned his taxi into a forex museum.  I hesitated to believe at first that it was 'the world's best taxi' until he showed me notebooks no. 49-51 (as in there are another 48 notebooks before that) containing the testaments of his loyal customers throughout the years.  And if that was not proof enough, he then showed me (whilst driving) a dvd of a local Thai reality tv show interviewing 'the world's best taxi'...too funny!  

best taxi in the world...

And so ended my Siam sojourn, and after a slight delay in Bangkok terminal I found myself winging my way up through Myanmar and India.

Peering down through the window on our descent, it seemed more like early morning before the sun has risen rather than late at night, the sky a lighter shade of indigo contrasting to the shadows on the plains. I saw dark hills bursting through the clouds, then windy roads etched into the earth, then gradually lights started to sprinkle the landscape...and then civilisation...I had arrived.

Kathmandu, Nepal...

* Inu's sister travelled to Nepal with my new flatmate Ritsu...'it's a small world after all...'

no sleep til...Bangkok

I started writing this post a couple of days in an effort to blog my farewell...but as you can see, it didn't quite happen...Somehow between the last minute photo-shoots, facials, goodbyes and...vaccinations, I ran out of time.  Tragically, I also did not get around to charging my phone, and so was fairly gutted as it died whilst I was literally texting my goodbyes on the tarmac!

So let me take this moment to thank everyone for their goodbyes and words that left me with tear stains on my cheeks before we had even reached altitude!

I arrived pretty late in Bangkok and so after I reached my hostel it was all I could manage to find out my adaptor was 'out of order' (doh!) before I fell into a deep slumber...

And then it was morning...

It was exciting going for my first little wander in the back alleys around Khao San Road - you might never say this place is pleasing on the eye but I like to think it has charisma. I find it enlivening deciding things like, how to blend in, which direction to walk, where to get your first massage, where to eat, what to eat...

The guy in middle could be the twin of my friend
Colombian friend Alejandro

About 50 metres from my hostel I had a pretty cool encounter with some tailors I came across trying to get my coat fixed. I had forgotten all about the 'bartering system' and was aghast when they quoted me some obscene amount to do the job.  Somehow though between shaking my head in disbelief, intermittently excusing myself whilst I blew my nose, and mentioning that 'yes, 200 Baht does make a difference when you're going unpaid for a year in Nepal!', we managed to shake on an amount that I could live with. Anyway, back to my story: these guys were Burmese refugees whose grandfathers, get this, were both 'Gurkhas'!!!!^ So, my first real conversation in Thailand was interspersed with Nepali! How cool!

Next stop:  'Madame Joe's'...the name says it all!

Fisherman pants

A few years (ok...9 years ago but who's counting?) Sahs and I were introduced to this little guesthouse by our friend Michelle (our Intrepid tourguide) over a pretty memorable brekky and a not half bad coffee. We had not been able to find it again when we visited last year, so I was pretty stoked when I stumbled on it further down the alley from the tailors...



Madame Joe's masseuse had the touch so I decided to extend my massage for another hour...and get a pedicure while they were at it...(two words: potato peeler he he)

After MJ's had rendered me thoroughly vegetative I thought I should walk the relaxation off...so I headed to the street market and got my first pad thai with squid extra chili...yummmmmmmmmmmm! The only thing missing was Sahs...I cannot say I really like eating on my own...I like the banter about condiments, or even eating utensils - she would say: "ooo give me that chili", and I would say, "you're going to regret this, but yes, here you are. How do you have so much control over your chopsticks? I think I must hold mine differently..."

After my walk I went back to the hostel for a chill and coke (out of a glass bottle - officially the best way to have coke) before heading out on my next adventure...to the bus station. The guy at reception told me I had to catch the '501' bus which would be just on the other side of the main road. So I followed his directions and set out full of hope and loaded up to the hilt - I know I have appeared pretty ridiculous in similar scenarios in the past but this was an all new level of ridiculous and almost brought me to tears...I had my backpack on my back, my daypack (which is, perhaps, heavier than my backpack - stupid weight limits!) on my front, my witno bag, and then a brown paper bag which of course tore! and finally my hiking boots dangling somewhere. And it was hot! So finally, I got bothered (or 'bovered')...

I never did find/see the '501' and finally relented to a taxi:(

My bus ride to Phuket was a little longer than expected, totalling 15 hours...but apart from the air conditioner which pelted out air like the winds of Siberia...'I no complain'...and at about 10:00 this morning I found myself finally in Kata town - woohoo!!! Where I promptly went to the beach and passed out in the sun...but, worry not readers, I succumbed to the beach umbrella (ella ella ella) and deck chair so appear not to be too blistered!

Kata Beach

And now...after enjoying my first margarita, I am about to embark on my first green curry! 'Aroy ma!'

^ Gurkhas: Warrior race of Nepalis known for their fearlessness. They fought against the British in the 1800s but were never overthrown, thus Nepal became a protectorate. The British Army was so impressed they began to recruit Gurkhas and continue to do so.

               'If a man says he is not afraid of dying, he is either lying
               or is a Gurkha.' - Sam Manekshaw

the last trimestre

I don't believe I received the "JO! you're moving continent! Stop faffing around uploading photos and start making some PLANS!" memo! and yet somehow I'm only 10 weeks til D-Day with a not-so-completed list in the 'planning department'...

What should I do? Where do I start? When do I start? What do I need? What don't I need? Should I worry? Should I act worried? When should I worry/start acting worried? What happens if I forget something? What happens if I take too much? What's more important: looking good or keeping warm/cool? What's more important: Don Quixote or my reference bible? Debit card or travellers cheques? VISA or mastercard? Immodium or laxative tea? Diary or Macbook - he he? Suitcase or backpack? Scarpas or espadrilles?

ABORT ABORT ABORT -> SOMEBODY TAKE THE PRESSURE DOWN

I'm still adjusting from my last move. Yes I'm serious...I've still got unpacked boxes, and not just the 'stowed out of mind in my parents' garage' variety; unpacked boxes in my room: fully visible!!!!!!! Not to mention the stuff I left...ah-hum I mean, lent to my old housemate:)...how can this be happening again?!

It may be cliche but there is truth in the words: 'time flies'

This time a year ago I was pondering what to do with my life; casually reading a past year book about how the preaching work started in India, weighing up what would be harder - Vietnamese or Nepali? weighing up what would be more of an experience - Barcelona or Nepal? considering whether or not 'I'm that kind of person'? or is it even possible?

And now, I'm here. Leaving for Bangkok in 76 days, and arriving in Kathmandu, Nepal (my home for the next 12 months) in 87 days.

But the exciting news is:
'guess who's back? back again?
[Chasty's] back, tell a friend,
guess who's back? guess who's back? guess who's back? guess who's back? do do do...'

Yes, my partner in crime (AKA Alana) just returned from her 4-month stint in Nepal, and we are now getting down to business-> 'it's business, it's business time!'

I've booked my flights, and just got my leave of absence approved - thank you Gilbert! (insert French accent), we've got a place to live (high-5s for Chasty!), we're discussing different VISAS (the permit, not the CC), and are investigating ways to heighten language absorption (rapping is a possibility). So yes, we appear to be in 1st gear!

Unfortunately each time I open my check-list it seems to lengthen rather than reduce...which is a little unnerving as I was hoping this would be the 'once in my life' where I'd have everything all-together and terrifically sorted before I hit the tarmac. Is it too much to ask that I can be well-rested, neatly packed, beautifully dressed, on time and under the baggage weight limit???

I hope not friends, as this is my mission!

Nepali group goes official

It is now Wednesday afternoon, just over 24 hours left until we pass the next frontier, our first Nepali congregation book study.

The whole affair will last only 15-20 minutes and yet, the preparation, the anticipation, the heartbeat: intense!

Opening night we are inaugurating the meeting in a study from the ‘Growing Older Together’ chapter in ‘The Secret of Family Happiness’ book. I think I was sub-teen when we studied this in the English, and as I prepped (prepared) my appreciation for advice on a 'not so spoken of' subject soared: How to maintain our happiness as we grow older.

I’m on the precipice of 25, so not quite dependent on a walking stick, but it is apparent in society that youth and beauty are synonymous with happiness, and as these fade so can contentment in one’s self and/or mate. (Incidentally the first subheading is entitled, ‘Adapting to Your Children’s Independence’…hmmm could it be that for some, letting go of their children is like letting go of their youth - hence the knot in the apron strings?)

Though this topic interests me in Times New Roman, once the Devanagari script appears, meditation is quickly transferred from thoughts such as ‘a man will leave his family and stick to his wife’, to, ‘does this word end in “sha”, “sa”, “sh” or “s”!?’ – who needs a mintie?

I've undertaken the task of finding my own answer so I actually learn something...but given the length in time I've spent perusing my dictionary for words like 'buddhi' (wisdom) and 'buudhaa-buudhii' (FYI folks: the elderly), I'll be satisfied with just the one comment - short and sweet.

Someone shared a tip with me once that they always answer right at the beginning so they can relax for the rest of the meeting. I have stolen this plan and am endeavouring to answer in the second paragraph (think I'll need my scuba-tank;)...

Yes nerve-racking as they are; exciting times they be!

If y'all ever find yourself in Marrickville on a Thursday evening circa 7:30 pm, feel free to drop by (315 Enmore Road).

I ♥ ASIA

This week I've been thinking about living in ASIA and some of the things that I'm looking forward to experiencing day to day.

Granted I've never been to Nepal before so can't say that it'll be exactly the same. But it has to be said that there are more than a few inimitable aspects copyright to this subcontinent which keep us coming back for more!

My 'desert island top 5' bits I love about ASIA in no particular order are:

1 the ability to wake up in the middle of the night, walk down the street, and obtain your midnight snack from a lively street vendor - hooray for 24 hour cities!!!!!

2 the informality - (cotton fisherman pants and thongs: relaxing and comforting the wayward traveller for decades...)

3 the food...

4 the transport - be it bicycles, rickshaws , scooters (occasionally carrying everything, AND a kitchen sink), unforgettable train/bus-rides in 2nd class ...there is something so enlivening about their rustic approach

5 the people - we have a lot of travellers come to Australia but I can say for a fact that we aren't nearly as interested/welcoming as the people you will meet it in ASIA...many wouldn't even dream they'd ever be able to travel somewhere as distant as Sydney, yet their lot in life never hinders their genuine interest and innocent appreciation for the unknown. This contentment with life's simple pleasures always moves me.

I'm sure that there's a piece of ASIA left in all of us...even if it's a parasite lying dormant until your next greasy, late night kebab!

Feel free to indulge me with yours...

trekking/hiking/bush-walking/tramping?

I've been reading up a little in my LP (don't laugh...we've all got to start somewhere) about different treks to do in Nepal and in doing so have stumbled once again upon something not that many people know about me, but which is nevertheless the naked truth...

I have a sick fixation about being original...

To be embarrassingly honest and idealistic, I'd love to do a trek which no one has ever done before, and which will of course be completely unique, mind-blowingly beautiful etc etc etc...

I am learning, however, that there is always a reason/s and decided advantages of taking the road more commonly travelled: beauty, attainable challenges, safety...to name a few...

So after reading with some eagerness about the extreme treks in the 'Restricted Areas' in the NW region of Dolpo (sacred pristine lakes, remote villages, razorbacked Himalayan peaks...), I've had a second thought and 'cut-back' to a section containing some more 'user-friendly' yet AMAZING treks closer to KTM.

The Langtang region has caught my interest this week, it is just north of KTM (and doesn't require a helicopter - yessss!) stretching to the border of Tibet...tough gig indeed!...
I'm reading about Rhododendrons (officially the hardest flower name to pronounce...I sound like I've got a stutter every time I attempt it and end up having to fudge an ending so it comes out more like 'Rhodododododenendronnnngs!'...but as I said to Alana the other day, perhaps the name gives the flower more appeal...it sounds somewhat romantic...hmmm)...Together with GLACIERS, the SACRED LAKES of Gosainkund, rhododendrons are on-route in Langtang and only require about 2 weeks out of our busy schedule...and I'm SOLD!

Only 2 weeks!...it's amazing how caught up you can get reading about these treks/hikes/bush-walks/tramps - whichever way you want to call it...suddenly 2 weeks seems so 'easy' and comfortable...if you're going to go for 2 weeks, why not 3?...which again is another symptom of my personality...yes, a little extreme...I forget that I haven't actually ever trekked 2 weeks...

I'm not a complete stranger to the sport though...when I was 16 my sister and I completed a 3-day trek (applause) in the hilltribes in the North of Thailand, which we were very proud of and to this day continue to bask in its victory!

Apart from the odd 'death-march' style day-trip (a moment silence for Jonesy and Felic), we didn't find ourselves officially back 'on-piste' til 4 years later...this time we graced "El Camino de Inca" and cursed ourselves for not training beforehand as we clambered up "Dead Woman's Pass" (rest assured 'she' died for good reason...those steps were murder!), but with "Living on a Prayer" cheering us across the finish line, we defied physics (our physics...) and those horrendous steps to the "Sun Gate", and, champagnes in hand, watched Macchu Picchu appear through the clouds!

So after yet another 4 year reprieve (is this a cycle?)...I'm ready for my next mountain to climb!

the Nepali group

Last Saturday a lot of the ones associated with the Nepali group got together for a Nepali-themed night. Meaning that many us wore Nepali kurtas, some wore saris (traditionally these are to be worn by married women) and a couple of the men doned the dhaka topi (traditional hat).

As I was customarily late (let's not go there), me and my chicken saag arrived as the main course was nearing completion. I did, however, manage to fill my plate up with some really delicious curries which flavours were a little new to me. One of the Nepali sisters, Anju, is vegetarian and she made a couple of dishes, one of which had chickpeas in it really blew my mind! I'm starting to appreciate the different spices they use a bit more now, and how addictive they are!

Actually, in the afternoon I had gone shopping in Ashfield (Australia's answer to Shanghai, Ho Chi Minh, New Delhi and KTM in one make-shift suburb!) and I went into this Indian grocer to get some 'brown' cardamom (let the reader note: AKA 'black' cardamom)...wow...I never ever thought I could go on a spice shopping-spree...I really had to show some restraint and leave the green cardamom and black sesame seeds for next time! Lucky these joints only take cash;)

After dinner some of the Nepalis danced for us, some needing more coaxing then others! One of the studies, Bhawana, led the procession roping Anju in for a couple of Hindi numbers where they basically dance all the lyrics so you don't really need to understand the language at all...it was pretty hysterical but also very graceful, and Anju, against her wishes put on a convincing performance as a bit of 'tease' to her pursuer, Bhawana (who wore a dhaka topi to distinguish her as the male)!

Bhawana is super out-going! I really love her and her husband, Amos (too cute: theirs is a 'love marriage'; their parents still don't know they're married!), they bring some of the other shyer Nepalis out of their little cardamom husks:)

I was fairly surprised to meet the alter-ego of our little 'shishak' (teacher), Surendra, who will now be eternally known to me as the 'tiny dancer'. He threw off his scholarly restraints for the evening and got 'jiggy with it'! I feel like I know him so much better now:)

It is really special to be able to see the beginnings of the work in the Nepali field in Sydney. At the moment it is like a big family, made up of only two baptised Nepalis, several languages learners and many studies. There is an Australian couple who really mother a lot of the studies showing them a lot of love, which I think is really lovely as most are on their own in Australia. This is something which I want to contribute to, showing lots of love and support, especially while my Nepali is 'naramro' - bad:)