February 9, 2001
Morning. Meandered over to Bodjpur, had some mediocre samosas there (deep fried triangles of dough stuffed with curried peas and potato), had tea with the Gorung school headmaster of Bage who bought me tea in Goptesor - he drew me a nice map showing walking times to the next villages (I realize how truly worthless the printed maps I have seen are).
I bought an AIDY KK-9 shortwave radio for $7 US (looks like it gets pretty good reception after 3 hours of testing it against all the others on offer), had dinner and slept in an anthill of a hotel crawling with middle-aged rural teachers in training (nice honest men many of whom spoke English). The hotel is owned by Bal Krishna, a generous sassy lady who works hard to giveme Dal Bhat for .50 cents and a bed for .30 cents. During the night there was a dog that bnarked outside on the street for an hour straight and drove me to put on my SW headphones just to drive away the annoyance of the sound.
Now I am going to go try out the possibility of doing email in the local Sai Baba (an afro-clad Indian living incarnation of a god) enclave at Daya Lakshmi Chapa Khana photocopy shop, see about buying one of the knives this city is famous for (called Kukuri), and hit the trail (I may sneak in a few more Samosas).
Bodjpur is a bustling mountain bazaar town with some money and an interesting hybrid of Hindu and Bhuddist residents. The shortwave shop owner (himself a Chetri Brahmin) admonished me to stay only in the homes of Rai families as I continue my trek (many are British Gorkha Army Unit pensioners).
Night. Wlaked from Bodjpur to Manedanda (cemetary hill) and was only harassed uphill from the river to Bastim town by some young guys who did not want to understand that I wanted to walk in silent contemplation (my earphones being in and my loud explamations of "I don't want to talk, thanks" and aggressive hand motions did not get the message across).
All this area today was Maoist land and very poor from Bastim to Manedanda due to extreme desert-like dryness here. I met a nice former peace corps worker in Mandanda named Dharma Banta - great teacher of Nepali. Tonight I am sleeping in the home of a Rai schoolteacher in the same dusty bed area with a quiet roosting hen. |