Night in Qatar and home....

Arriving in Doha, Qatar a 10 PM, after about a 6 hour flight, I was told that I could get a reservation in the transfer hotel. Thanks to Qatar Airlines, I was put up in the room below for 5 hours of blissful sleep before I began the 12 hour flight to JFK where darling sister Lisa met me in her neon green shirt and whisked me back to Brooklyn for a Thai dinner with Oonie and Max and Nicholas; we drank beer, wolfed down Penang curries and then had ice cream cones at the park - Nicholas wore his chocolate cone drippings with splendor! Oonie delivered me home by 9:00, and I shot over to Wanda and Dave's to fetch a awaiting but exhausted Shadow; he's had simply TOO much fun with wonderful Marie, who left the house SO neat and tidy that I felt as though I were back in Qatar~ THANK YOU to such a big hearted family and friends who embraced me on my return. These are the little fellows who waited for my homecoming and with home I chowed down on curries and cones; they are dressed for climbing Everest with me! I am SO happy to be home. Om Mani Padme Hum, which sounds like, "Oh, Mommy, pad me home," and she or whoever DID.

Kopan Monastery and starting for home....

After a wild bus ride to Gokarna yesterday, I walked through the pine woods for about an hour to get to the monastery, which is peaceful and overlooks the Kathmandu Valley; unfortunately, they were in the midst ofa TIbetan Buddhism Intro course,so the place was filled with white people who looked strangely fleshy and undercooked. The library and bookstore were jammed with information and geegaws.

Got desperately lost on the way back as a result of my flawless Nepali and one traffic cop's stupidity; I ended up miles south of Kathmandu,but there are always busses and tuk-tuks and kind people. Besides, there are ALWAYS extraordinary visual surprises along the way, which is probably the reason I shall never get too far in life; the way there is always too full of privileged peeks into the secrets that are pulsing all around us!

Do you know what happens when you eat four mangos in a day? Absolutely nothing, but the sheer pleasure of licking sticky residue from your chin remains. I buy them from the vendors, and because they peel smoothly and easily, I can almost eat the peeled ones as I would a slimy, over-juiced pear. OMG, this is sublime.

I leave tonight at 8:25 and have a 10 hour layover in Doha before I take another plane to JFK, arriving around 3 PM on the 5th. By the way, Happy Fourth of JULY! Kathmandu is celebrating with a "reggae day" in Thamel...

Patan

Across the Bagmati River, where dead people are burned and make-shift housing lines the banks of the narrow river, the city of Patan's temples, stupas and museum sprawls- another ancient city, but thisone is loaded with erotica and scenes of torture, much more fun at this point in my journey than beauty and history.

Patan has its own version of the peacock window; see how you think the two compare. I rather like the legginess of these guys.

The Krishna Mandir, a beautiful dark Hindu temple, has depictions of the Ramayana on the second floor; unfortunately, non-Hindi are not permitted inside, so we circled the temple to see if we would catch glimpses. Alas. Oh, well, onto the erotic scenes promised at the Jagannarayan Temple, most satisfying, but choosing which to share is nearly impossible; if you could have seen my dear friend and former guide, Suk, pointing out the best scenes to me, snickering so joyfully that I knew he was withholding a whoop, you'd have known it was just the right thing to do.

Onto the torture scenes. At the Hari Shankar Temple, built in 1704 by King Yoganarendra Malla's daughter, scenes depicting torturous punishments to long haired girls are decidedly Oedipal if you ask me.

We took one of the motored tuk-tuks back, 11of us crammed into the three seats in the back, one guy holding on outside, but what the hell do you want for 10 rupees? I asked to take another look at the small boys who are sniffing glue and lying onthe pavement on busy, filthy streets. We found a group, but they'd come to the end of their glue by the looks of the flattened tube waved around by one of the boys. We did stop at my favorite lassi man who scoops out glass after glass all day long, topping each with cashews and raisins - utter bliss - and across the street, sitting dazed, runny nosed and wee, sat a boy who had clearly been out of it for quite awhile. The only thing going for him was that he was still able to sit and not sprawled out flat on the dirt road. He wiped his nose and came begging, a good sign. Suk bought him a small glass of lassi, but made him throw out the bag he'd used for inhaling the glue before he'd give him the glass - of course, he threw it right into the street, but small steps....

Suk wants very much to work with these street boys, starting a trekking business that involves or can help them. I'm thinking potential guides. He has no money, and a visit to his "room" testified to that. He laughed as he showed his kitchen, library, bedroom and office, all in one room that he shares with his brother. A bathroom and water are outside. I'm reading Three Cups of Tea and, of course, feeling that I am being pulled here to help in some way... Stay tuned.

Today I may trek to Bodhnath tothe Kopan Monastery, which is meant to be the spot where a young, Spanish boy was declared the reincarnation of the founder, Lama Thubten Yeshe, and the model for the film Little Buddha. I'd better post this before my computer runs out of juice; I'm at a new cafe where Mozart is blasting in the background -pieces I' ve played before - I'm preparing my mind for cello playing, fabric quilting and literature teaching.

Swayambhunath Stupa and insane rain

Lonely Planet said the walk there was just a stroll; HOWEVER, it took me ages, and you can probably see why with this photo. There is too much here that mesmerizes me... Here is a goat and his genitals for sale in the meat market. I think there is no extra charge for flies. Also, we are "Always" beautiful here what with the"Always Beauty Parlour."

Here are three welcoming Buddhas on the steep steps up the East side of what has come to be called "The Monkey Temple." At the top is a glorious view of the valley andthe city itself and always followed by the piercing eyes, watching, watching to remind us that we are never alone. I know you want monkeys,but suffice it to say, they were everywhere, and in the interest of a themed blog, here is another example of tinted testicles: It is, after all, a man's world in developing countries where men peer out corners, asking me, "maryhuannna?" and women huddle under umbrellas, fully covered in glorious arrays of colors. I headed for protection from the rain underneath a darklittle arch to a temple, and we all stood, dripping, smiling and nodding until the rain let up around Basantapur in Durbar Square. As it rained, I took a series of the following photos, intrigued by the brass, iron and spots of orange; perhaps I'm more of an abstract photographer - and thinker.

Today I make the one hour trek across the Bagmati River to Patan,

another section of the city where temples abound and a lively market of wood and brass workshops will offer me a fair selection of man made singing bowls, which all families shouldn'tbe without! Feri vatola!

Bhaktapur

FINALLY, I have another camera and can write about

Bhaktapur where I went yesterday for3hours in

the rain. Here is my new best friend who sold me some necklaces of yak bone - hope you're ready for the new me! Im thinking nose ring...

Bhaktapur is the place with the peacock window, a town that allows no traffic and was a major spot along the Tibetan trade route in the 15th century. About 65,000 people live in this magical city of carved wooden window and doorframes, nooks and crannies and mysterious alleys leading in all directions - not to mention temples, stupas AND the full glasses of mango juice for 50 rupees. Ahhhhhhhhh.

It took 45minutes to get there but in the rain and traffic over and hour to get back to Thamel in Kathmandu/ I stupidly did NOT wear Kris's raincoat, but today I went to the Swayambhuhath Stupa (Monkey Temple) and did; the sun came out, of course! I took a photo of a monkey with red testicles, but that is all for tomorrow; I still have adventures to come today.

Good news and, well...

Having trekked successfully up Kala Pattar and to Everest Base Camp, we got stuck in Lukla waiting for a plane; my guide said he was going to walk to Jiri and then take a day's bus to Kathmandu. Not knowing how long I'd have to wait in Lukla, I said I'd go too. We were joined by a young porter and a Paraguayan soldier, working here for the U.N. We hiked hard the first day in the rain, mud and steep, slippery terrain, not finding shelter until way after dark. On a downhill I tripped and fell but someone very quickly picked me up, and off we trod. When we finally found a "hotel" I discovered that my camera was missing. Two of the guys took flashlightes and went to search for my camera, but no luck. Again in the morning they searched, but again, they said they found nothing. On we went, trekking for over 11 hours, again until after dark, but this time we decided to veer off and go to Pablu, a small village which had an airport, which is where we have been trapped for the past 5 days.

I am back in Kathmandu with only 3 days left until I fly home on the 4th of July. I have notes and tales to tell, but my photos are limited to those the Paraguayan soldier took during our attempt to get to Jiri.

I'm looking forward to c0ming h0me and to taking a shower. My clothes I sent out to wash, but they will not be ready until late tomorrow night. Nothing inthe big scheme of things, no?

I am dreaming of having a festival with Lolo and Oonie, having coffee and walks with friends, running with Oonie, Skyping with Jack, and eating some good, mercury-filled SUSHI!

I miss home.

Do I smell a summer job?

Tomorrow I am off for a two week trek from Lukla up to Everest Base Camp. Just send good karma, and I'm sure it will all be just great. I will take loads of photos and get back onto the blog when I return. Ciao for now.

Kathmandu is a very easy place to wander around in circles, but then it could be my own sense of direction; however, with David's compass, it is flawless. I just keep going north and finally seem to end up back at the same place even if it does take me three hours. Today is Sunday, and everyone is out in full force. There was no rain today, so the dust is chokingly thick, but atleast I don't slip into the mud!

Tonight I am treating to dinner a young woman from Seattle who gave me some gloves and waterproof pants for my trek. She quit her nursing job to go to India and Nepal and she trekked to Everest with two friends and no guide or sherpa. Moral of story is that with good map, hiking gear, oneCAN do a trek just with buddies. Next time... There are "tea houses" along the way where you can stay, and I will probably be "the only there," according to my guide. So, I will support the Nepali population on the mountain...

Lost in the late afternoon...

Yesterday was beautiful afterI arrived, sunny, moderate and lovely, butI still needed a nap... I even went to bed at8 and slept through the band that played until all hours. Up and at em now and heading off for the Monkey Temple - Swayambhunath = and then the Pashupatineth, where only Hindis are allowed in main temple. I would like to go to the 0nly remaining forestreserve in the valley, but two female foreigners were murdered there in 2005 so I cannot go alone. I may resort to my standby and rent a motorcycle.

I hope to hook up with a female trekking company in Pokhura and do the Annapurna circuit, but my plan is open. Ain't life grand?

I have just put up a few of my favorite photos and hope that this little format cando them justice. I have learned this morning that 7 a.m. is too early to go eat breakfast as nobody isup at thishour.

Trekkingwill be easier for THIS early riser!

Words will have to do...

Thinking about these boys back home, I have made it to Kathmandu, drinking an Everest beer at 4:00 p.m. after having travelled two days to get here. Let me just give you some of my first impressions.

The airport has the original pink Palm Beach airport beat by a mile. I will add a photo after I download, but it is teeny with a small sign that says "Arrivals" as you walk into an open corridor; no ac, no fans, just an open space above low walls. As we tumbled off the plane - and this plane left Doha at 1 a.m. with a full load of Nepali men returning home after working for months in Nepal - we were met by men and women masked and armed with thermometers. Each held the thing on our forehead for about 10 seconds and then asked if we knew about swine flu. We were shooed into the main building where we threw our bags onto a belt without taking out computers, etc... Then, because I checked no bags, I was just waved on through the customs out to the 30 or so waiting people. A nice man asked if I was looking for someone, and I told him I thought the Garuda Hotel would come. Sure enough, the man checked it out, returned and said the taxi was on its way.

The car arrived and a squirrely little man got out with a notecard pencilled with my name; his car had a Malaysia sticker on it, and I had a chuckle. We swerved through small, windy, muddy streets, and I noticed a meat stall had the back two legs and groin of a goat, face up so the little blue penis of the poor butchered animal protruded rather laciviously above the table. I made a mental note to check it out later, whichI did but did not have the heart to photograph it. NOW, I can only wonder at the splendours lurking in that gustatory pleasure,but I do not think it is something I willl pursue. I am.after all, a vegetarian...

My hotel is smarmy as usual, but I'm so discumbobulated that where I put my head tonight will not matter. My seat mate on the plane was returning to Nepal after over 2 years in U.S. where she lives with her husband in Atlanta. Her 5 year old son is here. I asked what she did in Atlanta, and she muttered into her hand something that sounded exotic; when pressed, she acknowledged that she works for Dunkin Doughnuts... She was funny and very warm. Her family lives in Pokhara, and I shall call her when I go there, which is looking extremely likely because I am really not interested in trekking in snow in June (Kris, will you ever forgive me?). I've got Kris's purple raincoat with me, Betsy's sock liners, Bob's Bhutan money and 50 Indian rupees. I hope I can do you all proud!

Landing in Kathmandu was extraordinary with the mounds of puffy clouds cradling the plane, the Himalayas glistening in the background, and blue sky above. Then we got beneath the clouds, hit turbulence, solid gray and a jolted landing. The hilly environment looks Swiss, cozily surrounded by hills and mountains, connected by a few muddy roads. The rainhad stopped so things were glittering in the post-rain sunshine.

I'm going to eat some easy veggie things and probably crash early even after about a 3 hour nap. There is no evidence of Maoist insurgencies or violence, but I do need soap for my awaitingly delicious cold shower... Over and out - especially after this giant Everest beer!!

DonQuixote is turning out to me wonderfully funny company, and I am not sorry I lugged Cervantes with me. If you've not read it, DO! It's wickedly witty.

Doha, duh - it's total desert...

When I looked out the plane window, I couldn't tell if we were flying over water or sand, and once I realized it was nothing but gray-brown sand as far as the eye could see, the Iranian-Guatamalan journalist sitting next to me shouted "A Hardees!" Sure enough, there was one, but the airport and surrounding area is blah,flat and monocromatic. Inside, h0wever, we've got men in long white robes, strutting around with what look like dish towels folded or rolled in fancy ways on their heads. I know these are official guys, but really from up close, they DO look as though they have dishtowels on their heads; I could take them more seriously if the head gear weren't checked red and white...

I made a friend on the plane who goes to Fordham and is from Nepal, and he promises me there are NO Starbucks in Kathmandu.

I have 6 more hours here, and it is 7:30 PM; we arrive in Kathmandu at 8:30 tomorrow morning. I cannot figure out if I should eat dinner, lunch or breakfast. Would that life were always this complex!

I'm safe, and it IS an adventure. Imagine living with nothing but sand everywhere! Think of the sheets at night... or not.

Shadow would like visitors...

Marie will be staying at my house, but if anyone is walking or running in the Wissahickon, Shadow would love a pat. Can't you tell already?