Getting Away

Having lived here in Kathmandu for a little over three months now, Heidi and I are already aware that we will need to regularly escape the confines of this city, getting away from the noise, concrete and commotion. Fortunately, it's relatively easy to do so. A ten-minute walk from our apartment takes us to rice fields and quiet villages. A thirty-minute bus ride takes us to the hills that overlook the Kathmandu Valley, hills filled with trees, birds and beauty. These escapes reconnect us with God's good Creation, energizing our spirits and calming our minds.

Below, you can see a few pictures from our getaways, along with a short reflection I wrote after our latest visit to Pulchowki, a preserved forest that contains over 300 species of birds:

I need air that I can breathe, Earth that I can touch.
I need silence that I can hear, flowers that I can smell.
I need green and brown and red.
I need rustling and crunching.
I need open spaces, clear skies.
I need water that I can drink, stillness that I can join.
I need beauty that I can see.
I need to get away, be alone.
I need dirt and bark and stone.
I need the sun to warm me, birds to sing to me.
I need simple.
I need calm.
I need to be able to walk unaware.
I need to be able to stop.
I need butterflies and birds.
I need.


A traditional Newari village during harvest time



A not so traditional bearded birder

Kathmandu Taxi Ride

Walking, meeting, asking, cheating, bargaining, agreeing, leaving, joining a mass of cars, trucks, buses, mopeds, pedestrians, motorcycles, trash, smog…headlights, brake lights, faster, slower, lurching, gears shifting, hanging on, weaving, roaming cows, swerving, wide-eyed and white-knuckled, tight squeezes, dodging, dust flying, horns blaring, creeping, car stalling, exhaust fumes pouring, whistles shrieking, policemen pointing, bumping, close calls, heart pounding, sudden stops, inhaling fumes, sharp turns, potholes, short-cuts, forced merges, sleeping dogs, random jams, arriving, stopping, paying, thanking, leaving, sighing.

Pokhara

Last week, during the Tihar Festival (also known as the Festival of Lights), Amos and I and Ben headed to Pokhara for some quiet, fresh air. Pokhara is a very winding, scenic 7-hour bus ride from Kathmandu. It is located in a valley surrounded by hill after hill and by the Annapurna Mountain range. The elevation is a bit lower than Kathmandu's, and the weather was a bit warmer...just wonderful!

Our 5-day stay included hiking to the magnificent Peace Pagoda, viewing the Annapurnas at sunrise atop Sarangkot (a perfect high point for seeing the mountains in all their glory), boating across the serene Phewa Lake, eating at lovely little restaurants with beautiful gardens, watching the festive dancing in celebration of Tihar, visiting a Tibetan village, seeing Devi's Falls, browsing the many craft shops, and simply resting in the peace of this little town.

Here are some of our pictures...


The Peace Pagoda


the mountains' reflection in the Phewa Lake


row, row, row, your boat!





some traditional dancing...


sunrise from Sarangkot


atop Sarangkot


a section of the Annapurna Range


the hike down from Sarangkot


the hills are alive with the sound of "moooosic"

A Moment of Hope?

Yesterday morning, Heidi and I watched the results of the American election at Phora Durbar, the American club, here in Kathmandu. We have both been fairly staunch supporters of Obama throughout his campaign and were excited about the possibility of watching the results of this historic election with other Americans. As we sat crowded in the café of the American Club, eating our American breakfast (with a few people enjoying a beer at 9 in the morning) and watching projection after projection, it became obvious that basically everyone in the room was rooting for Obama (except for the U.S. Embassy staff who were required to remain neutral). I’m not sure if this says something about the types of people who live overseas…or if it says something about how well people resonated with Obama’s message or how well they didn’t resonate with McCain (and Bush by association)…maybe it merely says that people who voted for Obama had nothing better to do on a Wednesday morning in Kathmandu.

When the inevitable was finally announced, the room erupted. I’ve never witnessed the outcome of an election that brought so many emotions. A woman behind us broke into tears saying that Bush had sent her to Iraq for a year and she hoped now the war would finally end. Strangers were hugging each other. People were crying, laughing, shouting. I felt myself getting choked up as I looked around the room and saw so many of my fellow Americans being overcome by emotion. Perhaps it was a symbol of our naïveté, our unwarranted hope in one man or in one man’s rhetoric. I like to think the emotions that we felt in these moments were the result of a realization that we have been going in the wrong direction. For a moment at least, we were united by a faint glimmer of hope that this could be the start of an important shift in American politics, and perhaps even in the American lifestyle. In the midst of continued racial injustice in our country, the fact that a black man even had a shot at the presidency is in itself a glowing sign of hope. As significant as this accomplishment is, this election seems to represent even more than that. For me, it represents the possibility that my country will stop using war to solve all of its disputes. We may actually start talking to our enemies again. Perhaps now, we will recognize the need to change our lifestyles…to wean ourselves from the idol of materialism and the broken ideology of individualism. Perhaps now, our image in the world will begin to be restored. For a moment yesterday morning, I think I felt something that can only be described as patriotism, a feeling I hardly recognize these days…not a patriotism that thinks America is God’s gift to the world…but rather a pride in my fellow Americans for choosing a different path from the one we have been following for the past eight years, for ignoring the calls to fear and instead recognizing the power of hope…for electing a black man, a man with a strange name and an unusual family tree to lead us during an incredibly difficult time.

Let me step back from what could be read as an overly idealistic blog entry. Of course, I realize that Obama’s win will not usher in the Kingdom of God. There will not be peace on Earth anytime soon…the hungry are still hungry, the poor are still being oppressed. If I needed any more indication of this, I only had to look around…after all, I was celebrating this election victory in an American oasis on prime real estate in downtown Kathmandu, surrounded by people who sleep on the streets…people who will never experience the luxury that resides within the walls of the American Club. Our country will continue to use violence to “defend” its interest…politics will continue to be politics. I realize that many American policies, which I believe are oppressive and sinful, will continue under the Obama administration. As a Christian, I am called to consistently resist these policies, regardless of which party is making them.

But for at least a moment yesterday morning (and perhaps for only a moment), I was an American and that was okay.