Last Day in Nepal

Well today is my last day here. My plane leaves tomorrow morning at 9, and the journey takes me to Doha, London, Montreal and home. I am happy to be going home, but pleased as well that I had the opportunity to work here on this project. There are some things that I will miss – the exotic flavour of the city, the very pleasant staff, the ready access to inexpensive restaurants. There are other things that I won’t miss a bit – the bad air quality, the noise of the traffic, the care you have to take with food and water, the coldness of the apartment, and mostly, the being away from everyone at home.
Today was kind of a busy day, with everyone scrambling to complete their portions of the final report. We have started having lunch now, realizing that eliminating lunch was not good health-wise. Lunch today was apple slices spread with peanut butter. Rumo, the tea lady, brought me a box of red and gold bangles to wear with my Kurta. She is very sweet. She keeps trying to show me how to wear a scarf, but it is hopeless.

Yesterday when we arrived at the office there was a pigeon flying around. The windows are left open in these buildings, and the pigeon had come in by mistake and trying desperately to get out. On the way to work today there were long long lines of people waiting for gasoline for their vehicles. One line up I saw must have been 2 miles long.

Did I mention that a surprising number of men have red hair? It appears to be compliments of a strange dye job rather than the natural colour. Kind of strange.

Last night we ate at a pizza place in Thamel. It was particularly nice – called Fire and Ice, frequented mostly by foreigners, and a little bit expensive (about $18.00). The pizza was big enough that there were leftovers for breakfast. The coffee there is really the only good coffee I’ve had since arriving.

Tonite the whole team is going to have supper at a nice restaurant called Dhulikels. The owner salvaged a lot of the Newari carvings from buildings being demolished, and incorporated them into the décor for the hotel. Rooms there are very expensive, like over $100, which is really high for Nepal.

So unless something really interesting happens on my journey home, this will be the last entry on my blog. Until the next time I go someplace exciting.

The second focus group

Today’s crowd was not as big as yesterday’s. Yesterday were the survey types. Today were the land records types - those who work in the land registry offices. Some I had met before in the field visits. Others were new.

Nepali men wear their hats to meetings – indoors or out. Mostly they are the typical Nepali caps, others wear baseball caps. The other dress was either western garb, or a nepali suit with a suit jacket over the top. There were some unexpected visitors invited by the joint secretary. One was from FAO – the food and agriculture organization based in Rome, that promotes agriculture in developing countries, and is often a donor agency for projects. The others were from the Asia disaster relief organisation – three earnest Japanese who did not stay long.

I wore my new vest and looked stunning.

As per the agenda of yesterday, after an introduction, a local consultant spoke about the Business Process Re-engineering exercise that had been done for the project. He spoke in Nepali, and there were lots of questions. I spoke next, in English, and there were some questions from those who felt comfortable enough in English to ask them. It seemed to go well. You never know…..

I know you are waiting to hear what was on the menu – rice pilau, and several salads, and naan and roti, and a dahl, and several Chinese dishes, and a lamb meatbally kind of thing. All very tasty. Gulab jamon ( which I do NOT like) black forest cake and a halwah were for dessert. I may have eaten too much.

Afterwards we met to discuss the content of the final report, and then back to the apartment. I will wear my new Kurta tomorrow to work. It is red.

Focus group sessions

Well today was the first of the two focus workshops. This one was on survey and cadastre. Tomorrow’s (mine) will be on land records. To those of you not in the business I suppose you are wondering what is the difference. No need to go into that now.

The sessions are held in the Everest Hotel, a quite nice hotel on a very busy street. The lobby is grand, with some wonderful Newari carvings above the reception desk, and others on walls and posts around. The room for us is very similar to ones at the Delta, the staff as usual are pleasant and helpful. There were presentations and discussions in the morning, and then about 1:30 we broke for lunch. There were about 15 dishes you chose from buffet style. 2 kinds of dahl, a rice pilau, naan, roti, fish deep fried, lamb in a stew, paneer, papadums, 4 types of salad, and three desserts. The meal will be different tomorrow. I can’t think of anything they did not have today, so I’ll be interested to see what it is. However, for a nice hotel the bathrooms leave a bit to be desired.

The sessions seemed to go well. There was lots of participation from the group, and they had been brought in from across the country. No one seemed to think that it was a good idea to turn off their cell phones for the event, so there was a fair bit of ringing during the morning. One guy has a really nice Buddhist chant for his ring tone. Another person’s ring tone has a bit of music, and then someone yelling Hello, hello. Bizarre.

One of the local consultants told us a disturbing story. The land records here are really in a sorry state, and for any number of reasons they are easy to tamper with. So Mr. A sells a property to Mr. B. a very expensive property – several million US dollars. Only Mr A does not own the property. He takes the money and disappears. Mr. B is left with no money, and no property. It is clear that in order for the transaction to have been finalized someone had tampered with the records. And three low level clerks were implicated. As a result, one of them committed suicide. This happened in June.

Dominic

Today we met Dominic. I have known his father for some years. He lives in Fredericton but has worked internationally a lot. When his father heard I was going to Kathmandu, he suggested that I look Dominic up. Today was the day. We shared tea at Mike’s Breakfast.

Dominic works for a non-government organization that promotes democracy by helping to build institutions around the world. He has worked in several parts of Asia, but will be heading back to Ottawa shortly to start working with a similar organization. In Nepal he has been working with the some of the new parties.

He said that Elizabeth Weir is scheduled to arrive next week, but that her flight goes through Bangkok, so whether she in fact gets here is uncertain. Mumbai is no longer a good option. I’m sure glad my flight returns home via Doha.

After meeting with Dominic we headed to New Road and Durbar Square. I needed a new battery for my watch, had not yet seen Durbar Square this trip, and wanted to tidy up shopping. The shop where they replaced the battery was a tiny little thing. I can’t think of a space small enough to compare it with. But it is certainly smaller than our upstairs bathroom. And there were 2 guys in this stall, one squatting on a stool, who knew how to do these things.

It now costs a small entry fee to get into Durbar Square, and I don’t know if that is good or bad for the vendors there. Certainly there was not the crush of people I remembered from our last visit, but the vendors were just as pesky. If they decide they want you to buy something they just don’t leave you alone. It gets exhausting after a while.

We walked from Durbar Square to Thamel, past the vendors that cater to the locals – the vendors with fresh fruit, onions, mushrooms, greens, track suits, sneakers, winter jackets, saris, pots and pans, spices, street food. Then stopped at the Big Belly for beer and something to eat. Gabriel has had stomach problems and I explained to him that beer is the best food in that instance.

Back to work tomorrow.

Biratnagar

So tonite we are in Biratnagar, and the Hotel Ratna. It probably was a very fine hotel in its day. Now it is a little threadbare, but the rooms are spacious, the staff are nice, and I checked - there is hot water. There also seems to be a very good restaurant, and the building is adjacent to a school for hotel people. There is however no internet. I will check tomorrow to see if there is a cyber café nearby. I wouldn’t dare go out now – it gets dark soon, and the vehicles might not see me in the dark.

There is one peculiar thing about the bathroom. In the drain of the sink is a walnut shaped piece of urinal cake. Why? I don’t know. And I don’t want to speculate!

We flew on a bigger plane this time, and could view the Himalayas quite nicely from the air. I sat next to a dear man, with good English, who ran a business upgrading the training of the high school teachers. He told me the name of the mountains, and rivers, and since he had the window seat, took a couple of pictures for me.

Biratnagar is SOOOOOO much nicer than Birganj. It is obviously more prosperous, there is a lot more asphalt, people look healthier and better dressed, and is quieter. There are, like in Birganj, many rickshaws, which is not surprising because the land is so flat. It has occurred to me that my travel wardrobe is drab, especially compared with the beautiful saris and kurtas that the local ladies wear.

We visited the office here this afternoon and will go back tomorrow. Security here is a problem as well, since the Maoists operate in this area too. They had a bomb blast last year in front of their building, but no one was hurt, and it did not do much damage. Although the building is dark and smelly it is a far sight better than the one in Birganj.

Well I must call downstairs. Don’t think my room has any power. And I’d like to follow that blast in Mumbai. There but for fortune……..

Finally some progress

Well today I feel much better than you very much. Even had supper tonite. Buffet at the Yak and Yeti – one of the best in town. How nice to feel back in the land of the living.

The day started with a knock at the door. I hoped Gabriel would hear it and answer, but no, so I got up, made myself as respectable as I could, and found Achute Rana at the door. Achute is our landlord. I originally though he owned the whole building, but what he owns is our unit. He is also the husband of Yasmine who made my wonderful vest. I showed Achute the vest, and he said that he had designed the fabric. That it was inspired by a Tibetan Tiger rug, and had it especially woven in India. He is a particularly nice man, very gentle, obviously an artist. I was glad to get to meet him.

We had some animated discussions at the office about the format of the focus groups, and attendance list, interspersed with calls from the secretary about details. I was happy to be more up to par for the discussions.

I have not told you much about life in the apartment. It is a very large building, with many units, a gym and a swimming pool. The ceilings are very high, there are at least 2 security guards around all the time, and there is office staff who are happy to mail your letters, get you a new transformer, arrange for more bottled water etc. And these people are so very nice, with quick smiles, and a genuine desire to help. There is a washer and dryer in the basement, which is a plus until you discover that it will fill with water, swish it around a bit with the soap. And then stop. And it takes days for anything to dry here. So I have had to become a philosophical about how many times it is possible to re-use underwear. Also about how often to wash your hair. It used to be – when it got dirty. Now it is – when there is hot water.

Our unit has a big living/dining room, with lots of appliances – microwave, TV, two heaters, two fans, blender, gas stove, iron. Each bedroom has its own bathroom with toilet, sink and shower. My apartment mate is Gabriel, who is Canadian, originally from Chile. He does a lot of this international work. He is a pleasant enough apartment mate – cheerful, game for excursions, good cook, pushing 50 I would say, with a new wife and baby back in Gatineau. It is a nice set up. We get food at a local “supermarket” and prepare many of the meals here, which leaves more money for shopping.

Tomorrow we are off to Biratnagar in the southeast of the country. It is where the Bhutanese refugees have settled. The Tibetans are in Bouddha, the Kashmiris run shops in Thamel, and the Bhutanese are in Biratnagar.

A Wedding Invitation

Today I came back to work, although I must say I am not really up to par. We are getting ready for some focus group sessions and it was important to be here, discuss some things, and prepare the presentation. Mid morning, one of the local consultants came in with a wedding invitation for me – his son is being married in Baratnagar, in the south east part of the country, on Dec 7. I will not be here anymore, but if the timing had been different it would have been wonderful to go. It will be a traditional Hindu wedding, with all the ceremony the days before. The fellow who is hosting the wedding is a short little guy. Shwarma is his name, not sure if that is surname or given name, that’s just what we call him. But wasn’t that a nice thing to do?

Gerald McGrath, one of the fellows who was here earlier as part of the team, arrived. He is an expert in cadastral systems, from Ontario. He is 72, ex professor, British accent, and I am impressed with his knowledge and his ability to articulate issues. It is nice to be working with him. He has worked all over the world. Although I enjoy a little gig now and then, I do not think it would be much fun to make your living as an international consultant. Too much time away from home. Too vulnerable if you get sick.

Today I picked up my new vest from Yasmine’s. It is quite lovely and I can assure you that no one will have another one like it.

So I left the office early because I had finished the things I needed to do, and was not feeling well at all. When I got to the apartment I called Dr. Ravi and he said come in and he would give me some more powerful medicine. So I went out to the street and said “CIWEC clinic, Thamel – how much” and the driver responded like he knew how far it should be, and off we went. But he did not have a clue. And would NOT ask for directions, and I said – across from the embassy, and he said embassy? Like that was where I wanted to go. And my book said the clinic closed at 4, and we were still wandering the streets of Thamel at 4, and at 4:10. So I finally got out of the cab, and took the one behind us on the street. Lo and behold it was the guy who drove us on Sunday, Thanks goodness. I was so angry at the first taxi driver. When you are not up to par things irritate you a lot.