The Country Fair - gambling, food, drinking, and fun (Nepal 2017-16)

During the first couple of days in Bhachchek, we kept hearing that schools would be closed on Wednesday. It was not a national holiday, so what was going on? Well, a country fair would be held at a bridge crossing over the Chepe Khola (river) at an elevation of about 900m. From Bhachchek, we had to descend about 900m to reach the crossing. (Note, click any picture to enlarge it.)

Rice fields below Bhachchek, approx. 1500m elevation. Exposed with a med. yellow filter to enhance contrast.

Vertical change in Nepal is especially interesting because you pass through different botanical zones. Near Bhachchek, the forest was thick with hardwoods and Rhododendron. Then about half way down into the valley, terraces with rice fields appeared. The villagers labor heroically on these terraced platforms carved out of the hillsides by generations of farmers.

Finally, we reached the Chepe Khola and crossed the suspension bridge. Nepal has many bridges like this. They are not suited for vehicles, but local folks often push motor scooters over them, along with the occasional goat and donkey. This bridge was packed with people from the surrounding towns coming to enjoy the fair.

The tents were set up on the right bank of the river below some rice fields. The boulders show that occasionally, an immense flood roars down this valley, carrying along bus-sized boulders. The river runs clear here, showing that it has descended from a rocky mountainous area.

The gents love to gamble at these gatherings. In the upper photograph, they throw rings and win prizes. In the lower picture, the fellow rolls cubes with the same symbols as are on the mat. I gave him a few rupees and lost (surprise!).

The food vendors do a roaring business. They use portable propane stoves. I am not sure how they get all the supplies to the site.

The young ladies show up in their city clothes, checking out the scene.

Finally, for our return to Bhachchek, we took a jeep uphill, loaded with not only with our group but also some village ladies. In rural Nepal, jeep rented by foreigners = free transportation. We lurched, banged, and sloshed our way uphill, getting out at the worst mud pits while the driver negotiated his way through the muck. These Mahindra Bolero jeeps are rugged. One of our soft, sissified, leather-seated play-SUVs would not last more than a couple of kilometers on a Nepali mountain road. Mahindra almost totally dominates the market for pickups and jeeps, along with an occasional Suzuki and Toyota.

On Friday, we loaded into the Boleros and ground downhill on the spine-jarring track. Oops, a siren. Some Nepali soldiers were heading downhill in a hurry in a rather nice pickup. In a couple of minutes, there they were, axle deep in mud, rear wheels spinning vigorously. The soldiers got out with their guns, looking on as the driver continued to spin rear wheels. We suggested he engage 4WD. He said it was. No, the front wheels were not pulling at all. Perhaps he didn't turn the locking hubs? While the soldiers watched, the American tourists carried gravel and rocks to the puddle. There was no effort among the seven idle soldiers to push in a coordinated manner, as a US team would. We asked our Nepali school construction coordinator what they would do if they had to go to war? "They don't have the capacity."

Eight hours later, we beat our way into Kathmandu through the dense traffic. The mud was easier.

I took the black and white photographs with Ilford Delta 100 film using a Leica IIIC rangefinder camera and a 5cm f/2.0 Summitar lens (in the family since 1949). This little Leica is a handy and reliable travel camera, and is inconspicuous and un-intimidating compared to a monstrous contemporary DSLR cameras.

Dear Readers, this  is the last of my 2017 Nepal entries. I hope they were of interest. On to other topics, other places, other adventures....

Schools in rural Gorkha (Nepal 2017-15)

The Gorkha District of Nepal was the epicenter of the 2015 earthquake. The earthquake knocked down thousands of homes, shops, schools, and other structures. They were especially vulnerable because many were built of un-mortared brick or stone with no reinforcing. The walls simply crumbled in the shaking.

One of our projects in the area around the town of Bhachchek was to visit rebuilt schools. Some of the reconstruction was funded by the Gorkha Foundation, which developed innovative school buildings with translucent fiberglass walls. We also visited some schools to donate dental supplies to the children and teachers.

At the elementary school in Bhachchek, the children line up and do some exercises before class starts. The children we saw were well-behaved and cheerful.

We tried to instruct the children about dental hygiene. They were familiar with the concept of tooth brushing, but flossing was a bit too complicated for the little kids. But they were thrilled with their packets of tooth supplies.

While hiking uphill to the village of Siran Danda, we saw children in gray uniforms and neckties. These children go to a private school, not the elementary school in the previous pictures. These students were also fascinated by the odd lumpy Westerners.

The second day, we walked to a construction site in the town of Birauta, where the Gorkha Foundation had built one of their buildings. The village elders fed us a hearty mid-morning snack. Our host was a former UK army officer, Sub. Gobinda Gurung. He had been very organized and effective in 2015 when the earthquake struck, and lobbied the government effectively for relief supplies and other assistance for his townspeople. The children thought we were very odd (well, we are).

Courtesy of the Gorkha Foundation, April 2018

This is a construction photograph from Birauta. The bottom part of each wall is made of stone held together with concrete. A steel framework supports the fiberglas roof panels and translucent walls. In an earthquake, the upper portion of the building has some flex. One problem: we were told that at lower altitude, the buildings are hot in the midday sun.

Telling the students in Nepani about tooth hygiene. The guys responded to a hint that girls like fellows with good clean teeth. 

Talking to the teachers about kits that let young ladies continue to attend school when they have their periods. This is a Gorkha Foundation building with translucent sides.

From Birauta,we descended steeply through the forest/jungle to the Shree Nepane Secondary School in Siranchok.

I was impressed by the range of ages. It is a secondary school, but the teachers bring their little ones to work with them. The older students learn English and high school-level material. Mixing all ages reminds me of some Montessori schools, where older students help instruct the younger ones.

The last photograph, of the young laughing ladies, is my favorite frame from the 2017 Nepal trip. I took it with a Leica IIIC rangefinder camera and 5cm ƒ/2.0 Summitar lens on Ilford Delta 100 film, exposed at E.I of 80. The Leica is small and unobtrusive, and the shutter release makes a subtle "click." I think it is much less intimidating than a modern DSLR, which looks like the photographer is pointing a cannon at its victims.

Into the Hills, Bhachchek in Gorkha District (Nepal 2017-14)

We rode in a minivan west out of the Kathmandu valley on the winding, rutted, bumpy Kathmandu-Pokkhara highway. The road is choked with truck traffic because this is the major supply route for goods and petroleum products imported from India. All fuel used in Kathmandu is trucked in, which, as you can imagine, leads to miserable traffic jams on the twisty mountain roads and nasty diesel emissions along the way.

We lunched (dahl baht of course) in Anbu Khaireni, a bustling commercial town in Gorkha District. We had been following the Trisuli river downstream. We saw groups in kayaks and rafts, but the high levels of pollution and sewage dumping would make me dubious of the pleasures of rafting this waterway. In Anbu Khaireni, we switched from the comfortable minivan to hard-riding Mahindra Bolero jeeps.

After a few hours pounding uphill, it was time for tea break in Amppipal, a dusty little town in the foothills in the Gorkha District. There is a hospital in the town operated by a German NGO.

Finally, we reached our destination, the village of Bhachchek at 1790 m (5,900 ft) elevation. Tourists are uncommon here; the local folks were unfailingly friendly but thought we were a bit odd. Children especially found us fascinating. The streets are packed mud. I would hate to be here in the wet season.

A surprising number of small shops line the streets. They sell beer and goods from India, such as plastic ware, tools, biscuits, clothing, cooking oil, and simple cosmetics.

From what we could tell, many of the goods come up the mountain in wagons pulled by these sturdy Mahindra tractors. The wagons do not have suspension (just rubber tires), and as a result, they clang and bang noisily.

Dusk usually meant darkness and extra chickens taking their evening constitutional before heading for the roost. Some days featured a few hours of mains electricity, some days none. One night I woke up with a light shining in my face because the power had started up.

We stayed in these little cabins. The lady who ran the place cooked heroically for us, but we could tell she was unfamiliar with tourists. For example, if we wanted extra tea or eggs, she often had to send a boy to a nearby shop to fetch a package. The shower water was cold, but a large wood-fired boiling pot was set up near the huts. The toilets were rough (surprise...). My hut was the one on the very left, behind a white shirt on the line. Just beyond the corrugated metal barrier was a chicken coop. The rooster made his 04:00 noises, followed by clucking and scratching. The country life....

The black and white photographs are from Ilford Delta 100 film exposed in a Leica IIIC camera with 5cm f/2.0 Summitar lens (both from 1949). The last picture is from a Nexus 4 mobile.