Adventure Asia

Vietnam Cambodia Laos China Tibet Mongolia Malaysia Indonesia Singapore Thailand Myanmar India Nepal

Impressionists

Less than 2 months into my trip I met a couple of hippies from Tennessee who wondered what had most impressed me thus far. Without hesitation I answered "the kids" and they continued to do so until the very end. The children in these countries are amazing people. They are respectful, smart, resourceful and resilient. It's an absolute shame they do not have access to a competitive education amongst other things.  If institutions such as the University of Cambodia were as respected and accredited as the University of New York, for example, the West's future would be bleak. These kids are hungry, figuratively and literally, and not afraid of hard work. They are expected to be a contributing member of the family by the age of 10 and before that they care for their younger siblings. Take a kid from New York City and another from Phnom Penh and leave them to their resources in any major foreign city. Within 2 days the kid from New York will be on the phone pulling the plug on the experiment. Within 2 weeks the kid from Phnom Penh would be flourishing.

It's a Small World After All

It's not unlikely to bump into the familiar faces within a country as most are following the same trail, but famliar faces in different countries? That's pretty neat! 

I ran into people in...

Mongolia who I met in Vietnam and China
Nepal who I met in Cambodia
Tibet who I met in Laos
Myanmar who I met in Tibet and China

Stay Another Day

One of the great perks of long-term independent travel is the option to stay another day. Tonight, for the first time in 10 months, I don't have that option as I fly home tomorrow morning. Even being in Delhi, India that's a major bummer.

Longest. Bus. Ride. Ever.

I tried in vain for a week to get a spot on the 13hr train from Gorakhpur, India to Delhi, India where I would be catching a flight to Boston. I surrendered on December 14th and caught a Mahandranagar, Nepal bound bus at 1pm. The Maoists were threatening a transport strike and having already experienced two of these I knew I had to make tracks to India ASAP if I didn't want to risk missing my flight on December 17th. These strikes affect more than just transport.  The entire country literally shuts down. If a restaurateur or travel agent dare open their doors for business the premises will be severely vandalized.

At 7am on December 15th sans sleep and sustenance I arrived at the bus station in Mahandranagar where I jumped into the back of a tuk-tuk for a ride to the border. This border in the far West of Nepal is meant to be open 24hrs per day, but it doesn't appear that the Nepalese immigration officials are aware.  I was able to rouse one fellow from his slumber long enough to get the requisite departure stamp.  I kindly reminded him of what day it was.

The distance between the Nepalese immigration office and the Indian immigration office is a little over a mile. I was tired, cold and grumpy. My bags were heavy and my coccyx had been crushed by the night's journey. I hailed a horse cart for this leg.

I was greeted by 4 immigration officials on the Indian side. Each one played a little part in my re-entry to their country.  One guy checked that my Nepalese papers were correct, another ensured my Indian visa was in order. Once my visa status was confirmed another issued the stamp.  The fourth served chai and signed said stamp. This of course is complete overkill.  Nepalese and Indian citizens can pass through this border freely which means these 4 officials are here to serve the 10 foreigners that might pass through here in a week's time. How's that for job creation?

Outside of the immigration office I was gently accosted by a young cycle rickshaw driver who agreed to take me to the bus station in Banbasa, India for 50Rp ($1.08).  Apparently there is a system by which cycle rickshaws are allowed to solicit customers at the border however. After crossing a bridge my driver and I were stopped by a very large and angry man who as best I could tell runs the rickshaw racket in town. My driver had broken the rules by picking me up directly outside the office. He is meant to stand in a line after the bridge and wait his turn.  The man told me I would be going with someone else for half the price. I admired my driver's tenacity and didn't appreciate the bully's mafioso manners so I said "No, I'll be going with him for 50Rp. It's been agreed." Some loud words were exchanged between the two as well as a third fellow who would have otherwise been my driver and off we went. My driver appreciated the loyalty, but I'm afraid his antics likely earned him a beating.

I boarded what I was told is a 5hr bus to Delhi. At 8pm, 8hrs later, I arrived at Delhi's chaotic Interstate Bus Terminus where I impressively negotiated an off the meter 100Rp ($2.16) tuk tuk fare to the New Delhi Train Station. At the station the meter read 90Rp -- not a bad guesstimate. Had I used the meter the driver would have taken the most indirect route. It's the oldest trick in the book of course.

By 9pm, 33hrs after my departure from Pokhara, I was in my hotel room where I wasted no time assuming the fetal position.