Rajghat Bound - Updated with photos

Well, it's been a quiet few weeks here. We've been slowly getting the paperwork together for the NGO, first the memorandum agreed, and registered in the district before it is all translated into English at quite an expense. And finally the time came to visit Rajghat.

Mum - don't read from here

We have bought a bike, partly because I have wanted one since going to New Zealand 8 years ago but mainly because it would provide flexibility, protection against the constant transport strikes, and cut the journey to the village in half - still 7 hours though. Having the bike meant that we could take the more direct route across the mountains, the scenery was amazing, and we met very few people along the way. I rode the bike some of the way, but I haven't quite got my license yet - Achut does though. So when we approached the police checkpoint, Achut shouted at me to speed up, and reminiscent of a scene in a bad American film we shot through the checkpoint with the police looking bemused but too lazy to do anything about it. I felt like a criminal. It was surprisingly exhilarating.

We arrived in Rajghat, posteriors aching from bumpy roads and 7 hours in the saddle. Little seemed to have changed since I was there over a year ago. The only thing I really noticed was the new police post put up just after I left. We sat in the shade, still baking at 35 degrees, and talked with Achut's friends and hangers on from the village. The chief of police in the village came and introduced himself, and I spent several hours during my brief stay in discussion with him. A useful contact when things go wrong... I was still the source of fascination for most of the children and adults. It's a very un-English thing, people will just stop and stare at you. But once you get used to it, it's rather twee, and you can't help but stare back.

Now if you don't have strong stomach, don't read the next paragraph.

I had my first bought of stomach problems in the village. I made Achut promise not to tell anyone, so the first thing he did was tell his dad - Buwa - and the rest of the village that were in the vicinity. And so when I needed to go to the toilet, I had more than forty people watching me going to the small building across the market. Great. Later when I needed to go, I was guided to a hole in the ground that had a herd of maggots crawling out of it. When I went to wash my hand, I noticed half a dozen of them had attached them to my foot, and I rapidly washed them off, trying to maintain my usual calm and cool exterior in a state of extreme revulsion. To settle my stomach, it was decided I should take some dohi - a type of yoghurt. 5 cups later from different houses, my stomach was starting to convulse and my brain noted not to mention any problems in the future unless I really have to.

You can look back now.

I got over my stomach problems relatively quickly, mainly because of the threat of more dohi made me shudder. It was decided that the first project that we would work on would be the health post. The health post used to be in a building in the market. However, the new police post had taken over the building, and the doctor has been forced to work out of a small temporary room. So, we talked with the doctor and a local health official about what they wanted. A meeting of the families in the village was called. This was unlike any meeting I have ever attended before. We all sat in a circle under a tree in the marketplace and they talked. But not just one person. Voices were coming from all sides of me, and I tried to make sense of it all, bur in the end just sat back. Eventually, a small group of people formed a circle and then others came and stood around and a decision was made. The health post would be made and put in the market. An engineer was brought in to quote for the building, and I was sent back to Kathmandu to start on the proposal.

A group of volunteering women training to give polio cubes and assist in pregnancy and midwifery

The meeting

The journey back was via some family members and friends houses, which was great to see them all again. As we left the staging post of Hetauda and started to climb the 2500m pass to get to Kathmandu, the chain fell off causing the back wheel to lock and us to almost fall off. Once we had put the chain back on, we looked at the chain and it was hanging loose. Now came the question, should we carry on, and would we find a workshop in the 120 km before Kathmandu or go back the 30 km to Hetauda? We decided to go on. In hindsight this was a mistake. Climbing up the rest of the 2000m with a chain that verged on the brink of falling off was not much fun. It took us a over 3 hours to get to nearest bike workshop, just 40 km away, but we were crawling on the bike, scared of chain falling off if we went fast, and plunging us off the side of the road into the deep valleys below the road. We finally limped into Phalung, and found a workshop, where the man took 1 minute to move the wheel back and tighten the chain.

The road to Kathmandu through the hills

And then we were off again, flying through the most amazing scenery, and reached Kathmandu by nightfall, where there was a 3 mile long jam. However, as Achut has no patience, we weaved through the traffic with amazing dexterity and got home in time for dinner.

As for everything else, water is still a problem here in Kathmandu, only a little each day, although the load shedding time has cut down. The last 2 days have been government holidays, yesterday was Buddha's birthday and so ever politician worth this salt was at some event or other, making sure TV camera were there as well. Today, in contrast, is a valley banda - strike. A local was killed by associates of the Maoist party, the government in waiting. So maybe things haven't changed as much as they said they would. We will wait and see.

SAM