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The time-line in Nepal was a little disjointed on the blog, but basically, the weekend after our trip to Chitwan Helen and I said our goodbyes to our monasteries, gave Amrit a huge hug, and headed to Pokhara to do the Poon Hill trek through the Annapurna region and subsequently my stint in solitary confinement (ie. the pain-staking mind-purification process known as Vipassana meditation)

I was really sad to leave my monastery… the boys are so extremely welcoming and I felt like I was actually making a difference for them. I really looked forward to the chorus of “Good Morning, Miss” I received when I walked through the monastery gates every morning. Now though I will have to suffice myself with the sweet memories and the off-hope that I will have the time and opportunity to come back here and teach/visit sometime in the future.

The relaxation of living in the small town of Pharping went right out the window when I had to contend with the stress of trying to get myself out back out of the country. I already mentioned some of my visa woes previously, but it deserves a bit of clarification for any blog readers in the future – the whole of my problem centered on the fact that you have to attain an Indian transit visa if your luggage is not checked straight through all the way out of the country. Because Helen and I planned to switch airlines in Delhi airport I had to obtain an Indian transit visa. This cost me a whopping $75 (including a bit of bribe money to expedite the process) so that I could travel  through the country for the day –that’s a whole lot if you consider that a six-month visa costs about $90 – it was funds I hadn’t anticipated and came as a bit of a blow.

Then, as I was scurrying around Kathmandu attempting to bribe my way out of my visa situation (it worked by the way) the political situation deteriorated and I was a bit thankful that I was on my way out of the developing world for a bit while the Maoist protests and marches shut down the streets and highways around Nepal in a bid for power because the Prime Minister stepped down.

My conclusions on Nepal are essentially wholly positive. I think that it was the volunteering opportunity that made me feel such a part of this country, but I do really love it. For me, a country has to have not only the physical beauty, but it’s really about the people. The nature and welcome of the locals is what makes the difference and has made countries stand out in my mind. The Nepali people are so earnest and friendly. Knowing the language has also made an immense difference. I won’t go so far as to say that my Nepali skills are huge –but I can bargain in the shops and do the rudimentary conversation…and that’s really all you need there to earn mad kudos.

One of the big reasons that I love the country was illustrated by the immigration officers as we were leaving and headed to Italy via India. Now, I have encountered a whole lot of steely-faced, humorless immigration officers –it seems to be almost an international behavior code –but that code just doesn’t hold in Nepal, the people are just too joyous. As we were moseying through the line one of the officers wondered what we had been doing in the country for seven weeks –and in our best Nepali we informed him we were volunteers. As if our display of conversational Nepali were not enough for some reason…fast forward ten seconds into that moment and somehow Helen and I are standing across the counter from the customs officer serenading him with our slightly off-key and mildly mispronounced Nepali songs.

He was so shocked and dumbstruck by our singing skills (not the actual melody…because I suck at that…but the effort was spot-on) that it took him at least four-five seconds before he started swaying and singing along. Within another couple of seconds the other immigration officers full-on abandoned their posts, circled around us, and joined in for the ending chorus of the patriotic “Nepali Ho.” The moment was so spontaneous and unexpected…and completely Nepali. I truly can’t imagine that flying at any other immigration post.

So, with that moment buoying our spirits we caught our short flight into the oppressing heat of Delhi –one last threshold barrier standing in our way to first world comfort.  Delhi was about 110 degrees and almost completely unbearable. We had a hellacious first few hours in the city. No one warned us that Delhi’s Indira Gandhi International Airport has no luggage storage…and that possibility was just not even imaginable. The smallest train stations in India have had luggage storage but the airport doesn’t?! Unfathomable.

We ended up hoisting our packs onto our backs and deciding that it was a good idea to venture into Delhi for the day –not entirely sure what possessed us but I think it was a deep desire to shop at Fab India one last time. We sweltered in the heat for well over an hour while our driver drove around completely lost before jumping out, paying the man and seeking shade and cool drinks. The entire Delhi day was one of those never-ending travel days that is just compounded and made that much worse when you know that you are just a heartbeat away from the developed world.

Because of our early flight the next morning we opted against booking a hostel for our 20 hour layover and instead slept in the mosquito-y-hot waiting room. The one upside to the airport’s waiting facilities was the hot shower in the ladies’ room –I was so sticky and grimy with Dehli exhaust that I was thanking the heavens above for that opportunity to shower off the day.

As we entered the international terminal (you have to wait in the visitor’s lounge until three hours before your flight) I felt a sigh of relief come over me…I have loved so much about my five months in the developed world…but…at the same time, it’s a lot of work just to get through the  days sometimes. With a language and culture barrier some of the most simple of tasks become monumental…and though I took it perfectly in stride while I was there, there are creature comforts and foods that I have dreamed about for months. Gelato is tops on my list for the second that I touch down in Italy…after giving Jenn a great big welcoming hug of course.

My ability to sleep anywhere and in any position comes in handy on buses and trains:

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Reading: An Italian Affair by Laura Fraser

Listening to: Slum Dog Millionaire Soundtrack

Where am I really: Couch surfing in Slovenia and it’s raaaaiiiinnnning!