• Index
• Where?
• Who?
• Education
• Health
• Gorkha Women's Association
• Water
• Handcraft
• Land
• Volunteers, Working Holidays, and Sponsorship
• History
• Links

 I left the haven of a hotel in Kathmandu and boarded a plane for Biratnigar in south east Nepal, where I was met by a Nepalese teacher who was to take me by bus to Rajmiraj on the Indian border. He poured me into an already overfull bus of uncertain vintage, and wedged me into the front compartment. Only then was I told it was to be a four hour journey! As we bumped along the road, amid great plains of rice and sugar cane, my companion was kept busy explaining to the other occupants why he was travelling with this elderly English woman. I later understood their curiosity, for I did not see one westerner in the time spent in that area of the Terai. 

We arrived at Rajmiraj at dusk. Yadav took me to a lodge house, explaining that it might be difficult for me to stay at his village home as there were no 'conveniences' there! The Lodge presented a garish, run-down appearance, but I was greeted politely by the lodge keeper. We threaded our way through a room full of cot-beds, where inert forms were rolled up in quilts and cocooned in mosquito nets. My mind began to boggle! However, he opened a cupboard, revealing a winding flight of narrow brick steps which ended in a landing. With pride, the lodge-keeper and Yadav showed me the 'bathroom', a concrete recess, containing a cold shower and a drain hole in the floor. I was then shown the 'toilet'. Here was the refinement of a ceramic basin and drain set in the floor, with footpads on either side, together with a tap and a bowl, for obvious purposes.

By this time I was prepared for the condition of my room, which was bare but for two beds and a table covered with a piece of well used oilcloth. There was a single dim electric light swinging above. Yadav told me, comfortingly, that I would have the room to myself! He then proceeded to give the mattress and quilt a thorough inspection. Having satisfied himself on this point, he pulled off the mosquito net and sent for a fresh one.

"Are you happy here?" he asked. What could I say? Making sure that the locks and bolts were secure, he left me with bottles of drink and admonitions to leave the bolts firmly in place! Overcome by the day's experiences I snuggled into my sleeping bag, and was soon fast asleep.

It wasn't until cock crow that I realised that there was no mosquito net. However, the mosquitoes had evidently discovered this long before, and had taken full advantage of their golden opportunity. I only hoped the anti-malaria pills worked!

Yadav came soon afterwards to take me to breakfast. This we had in an open fronted tea house, where all kinds of sweetmeats were being cooked, most of them floating in syrup. It wasn't quite my idea of breakfast, and I blenched at the thought of all that syrup, but noblesse oblige!

After being taken to various village schools in a bicycle rickshaw, Yadav then conducted me to his village home where I got acquainted with his family. To my surprise, his wife did not appear until much later. Apparently she could not show herself in the presence of his uncle. I did not realise how much the women in this area were kept in semi-purdah, unlike the more liberated women of the north. Yadav told me that while living in the family home, they must, of course, abide by the family rules. Things were improving, he said. He could remember when husbands could only visit their wives for a stipulated two hours a day!

I was then given dalbaat, with family and villagers looking on. After washing my hands, I was presented with a tray of rice and pulse gravy which one scoops into the rice. There were several dishes of spicy vegetables and chutney to be eaten with rice also. Offering up a silent prayer, I started to eat, scooping up the food with my fingers. The flavours were unexpected, but piquant and tasty, until the chillis hit my palate! Smiling through my tears, I swigged a mug of buffalo milk, and pressed on. By then it was too late to worry about the consequences.

That night, the syrups and spices took their toll. I awoke with the feeling we all dread. Gathering my equipment, I made for the latrine, only to find that the water had been turned off! Wrapping myself in a towel, I slunk back to my room for a bottle of lemonade. On my return, I washed myself in this, and polished off with surgical spirit. I managed to change, all the time being aware that I was the only woman in the place, and fearing one of the doors would open before I had finished. After doing a little laundering (in lemonade of course) I returned to my room and crawled thankfully into bed. 

Two hours later........ Need I say more? Suffice that it was a bleary eyed English woman who greeted Yadav in the morning!

After a few days in this district, I travelled on, alone, by bus across Nepal to the north-west, meeting and living with hill people, and then continued south to the Chitwan Reserve- but that is another story. I gradually became used to the diet, but was still grateful for the soothing effects of buffalo milk and curd which accompanied every meal.

Travelling by myself was never a problem. I felt completely safe with the Nepalese people. They show an innate kindness and courtesy which is always natural, and never fulsome and ingratiating. One seems to be accepted on equal terms, and respect is mutual.