Om Namah Shivaya

18/02/15

I close my eyes again and lean my head back. Just help me get through this alive, I pray…

It’s been one hell of a day and my army of angels are out in full force tonight, working overtime to get me home safe. It’s late and the roads which are already dangerous by day are outright frightening after dark. I am sitting in the front seat - which I never do because you are more likely to get killed in the event of a collision – but I have been really sick all day and I figured I might feel less nauseous if I sat up front. I started feeling ill this morning on the way to Trisuli. I kept burping up these really rank nasty burps and when the car stopped for a pee break, I got out and threw up all of last night’s dahl bhat on a pile of garbage in the ditch. I’ve taken immodium to prevent diarrhea (because that is the last thing you want on a long bus ride), but today is not a good day for my stomach. I tried eating a couple small bananas and some crackers but I was not able to hold anything down. Now I’m getting hunger cramps from not having eaten all day.

For the ride back to Kathmandu, I wanted to get some gravol or something to help with the nausea but the only pharmacy in Fishling was already closed by the time we got off the river. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and try to keep it in for the 3 hour drive along the narrow twisting mountainous pot hole filled road overrun by crazy and reckless drivers – not to mention the dust, exhaust fumes and traffic jams that all add to the pleasure of the ride. The driver that picked us up is really kind though and he offered to drive us all the way back to Thamel so that we wouldn’t have to get another taxi in Kathmandu – I am so grateful for this small act of kindness because it saves us not only a bit of money but a LOT of hassle and time when my sick body just wants to get back home as quickly as possible. Despite wanting to get back to Kathmandu quickly, I am also grateful that our driver is going slowly and not taking any chances passing big trucks.

There is no such thing as a safe way to pass on Himalayan roads. The roads twist and turn so much that if you are going to pass it will inevitably be in a corner. That’s why honking here is such a necessary component of driving. As careful as out driver was, at one point we started to pass a truck and another truck came around the corner ahead of us. The line of cars had already closed the gap we had just left so we couldn’t get back into our lane. Our driver braked and leaned on the horn to warn the other driver to stop, but he didn’t react right away. I opened my eyes to see the headlights coming straight at us and I had a moment of déjà vu from that snowy morning in September when another set of headlights had come bearing down on me. Fear seizes me and all I can think to say is "oh shit" (it won't make it on the buzzfeed list of 10 most memorable last words). At the last second, the truck in front of us slams on the brakes and stops literally a hair’s breadth away from us; I think he might have even lightly touched the front bumper…. Another near miss. I thank my lucky stars, but I can’t help but wonder if and when my luck might run out. My friend who is sitting beside me, grips my hand. It is a while before she lets go.

Earlier we witnessed a hit and run. We had just finished packing up our gear and were getting ready to shuttle back to Fishling when a microvan tried to dodge between two buses parked on either side of the road. One of the buses started to pull out and the microvan had to swerve to avoid hitting it, hitting a man instead who had been standing on the side of the road. People started yelling. One man was holding up the man who had been hit. He was still alive but unconscious. His cheek was trembling as if he was having a seizure and I did not think that he would survive. A crowd quickly began to gather and police from a nearby checkpoint rushed to the scene. I stood rooted to the spot until my friend yelled at me “Come on, Natasha, we have to go quickly there is going to be a (traffic) jam!” I followed her; there was nothing I could do to help anyway.

Today was supposed to be a fun day paddling the lower Trisuli. I had even brought a play boat this time to be able to surf on some waves and practice some tricks, but I have been too sick and weak all day to enjoy any surfing. It’s unfortunate because we did a section of lower Trisuli that we hadn’t done last time where all the fun rapids are. I even got some practice scouting from the river and leading the lines down the rapids. I don’t lead much, usually there is another kayaker who is better than me who leads the way, but I was the only kayaker today and the raft guide hadn’t been on that section of river in a few years so she would send me ahead to scout the rapid and signal to her which way she should line up the raft. It would have been more fun if I had been feeling better but instead of playing around and trying to punch through some holes, I played it safe, picking the easy lines and not trying anything stupid. If I survive the ride back to Kathmandu, I’ll be back again next week for another go at it.

There is a massive traffic jam when we get back to Kathmandu. The driver explains that it is the prime minister and his entourage that are being given the right of way and creating a massive back up in every direction. The traffic controller who is stationed at the intersection is doing a really bad job of directing traffic and other drivers keep making it worse by trying to go around the lineup so what was originally one line of cars quickly turns into three and by the time the traffic controller lets us through our lane has almost entirely been blocked by idiots trying to go in the other direction. We eventually squeeze our way through though our driver has to shake a fist at a few motorcycles who think they can pass anywhere. The clouds have been building up and flashes of lightning occasionally turn the sky a deep purple. The wind picks up and I can smell the storm brewing. We were so close to home, I was hopeful we would make it back before the rain, but the traffic jam held us up and by the time we arrive in Thamel it is pouring rain and big chunks of hail. I am only a 5 minute walk away from my guesthouse but with my boat and gear to carry in the rain while I am sick, I don’t think I can make it. I call a friend to come pick me up. He tells me “It’s raining. I don’t have a rain jacket.” But he comes to get me anyway. It’s almost 10 pm by the time I make it home and crawl into bed. I take some medicine and hope that the nausea won’t keep me awake all night.

Yesterday was Shivaratri – a crazy festival to celebrate the God Shiva, most commonly known as the God of destruction (although Shiva has many different faces and he has the power to create as well as destroy). I went to Shivaratri at Pushupatinath seven years ago and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life so I was a bit surprised at how uneventful yesterday was. I guess the intense energy from yesterday must have spilled over onto today. My neighbour tells me that it is all about balance and if you build up too much energy on one side then there will be a big push back from the other side in order to restore balance. Maybe it’s just the storm but I can feel the intensity in the air and her words make sense to me. Hopefully, tomorrow the world will have returned to a more balanced state and we can all just breathe normally again.

*I didn't get any pictures of babas who come to worship Shiva at Pushupatinath because they now charge foreigners 1000Rs (about 10$ which is ridiculously expensive here) to get into the park above the Temple - when I was there 7 yrs ago, entrance was free.

Pictures from the line up at the Temple in Pushupatinath

A storm is coming...