Hearts in Nepal

Danny and I have just returned from Dharka village today, tired, sore muscles and happy faces. We left a few days ago to travel up to the village to see the condition of the school. Rajan was anxious for us to go before the monsoon rains began, as the rough, dirt road will proably close once the rains fall and turn the already treacherous track to slippery mud. It had been a year since I last traveled to Dharka and my head was full of imagining what awaited us-on the road and at the end of the trail, high up in the Ganesh Himals at the village. Danny had recently returned from the village as I arrived in kathmandu, so our joyful reuniting was kept short by the necessity to repack and head out to the hills once again.
The road to Dharka is paved with good intentions, I thought, as we jostled along first in the overcrowded mini-van from Kathmandu with our Tibetan friend Kelsang Lodue and Rajan Simkhada. The ride was painfully slow in the heat and over-crowded conditions requiring passengers to sit sideways to accomodate shoulders and knees-and some bailing out for the fresh air and more spacious quarters rooftop with the luggace. Our stop was Dhading Besi, about 3 hours out of Kathmandu but today 6 hrs because of a terrible backlog of traffic on the one and only two lane highway of Nepal. Once in Dhading, we unkinked our limbs and wobbled to a cafe for Dahl Bhat (rice and lentils) and then procurred a jeep taxi for the now 4 hour rigurous route to the outback and then our hike up to Dharka. It is not a trip for the faint of heart, in all respects of the word, but the rewards are unbelievable beautiful scenery and an amazing step back in time. Farmers working fields with water buffalos and colorful Nepali women with baskets on their heads, children playing with stickes and hoops-there is a true self-reliance out here that we seldom get to see in the "modern" world. The rugged jeeps break down frequently and ours did so, shortly after we began the dirt track, it seemd something snapped on the frame and so all passengers had to disembark and we waited patiently, as you learn to do in this part of the world, for the next "taxi" to come by. Soon enough one did and we reloaded and left our old driver and his broken jeep on their own. The ride was bone crunching, the silt suffocating, and the heat unbelievable, but the excitement overrode it all as we neared the end of the trail, about 12 hours since we left Kathmandu. Now with dark coming, we hiked to the nearest overnight 'hostel'-a thatched roofed, wood bed arrangement near a roaring river with a kind Nepali woman who made us dahl bhat and hot tea. I was so exhausted from the day's travel i just wanted to eat, drink and collapse and soon did.
The morning broke with singing birds, a cool mist rising and several porters, who had stopped to sleep along with us for the night, smoking for their breakfast before gathering huge loads on their backs to set off in all directions for villages-pvc pipe, tin and wood were some of the things on small strong backs as loads were shouldered, a few words said, and off they went, most barefoot. We ate a simple Nepali breakfast of chickpeas and hot tea and watched several donkey trains come by, bells ringing and the boy walking behind whistling to the good donkeys to keep moving, although one diverted to make a quick stab at slurping some dish water by the dripping pvc hose. We began our own ascent up the smooth worn steps to Dharka village, way above us. We reached the village about 2 hours from leaving our camp, hot, sweaty and leg sore, but happy because some of the locals had come down to meet us, with Namastes and excitement in their eyes. I guessed something was up, Rajan had said the school was nearly finished but had made no mention of a ceremony. I soon so blue-clad children peering over the edge of a terraced field about us as Danny pointed out that we were soon to top off the steep climb at the school site. The anticipation of seeing "our" school finished-a reality and no longer a dream, gave me renewed vigor. And then we were there! A small group of two dozen villagers and children began to clap as we made our way to the flat area of the school, sitting almost impossible real, red clay and stone, tin roof shining, a hand-woven arch over the entrace, a banner with Nepali writing on it that later was translated to me as "Ganesh Himal Primary School" But mostly, the beautiful faces of the darling children, looking happy, excited and amazed at their foreign visitors who appeard on the rise! I wanted to hug all of them, wrap my sweaty arms around the whole group of villagers who clapped and sang out "Namastes!" to us with such happiness and joy on their faces! (This is part one, part two to come soon-time for kora!) Namaste!!! Jan