Apologies for the delay in adding this next installment but I've been rather too busy having adventures to get chance to write about them. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.
Outside the airport terminal it was clear and sunny with a cold, frosty edge to the air. Winter, at last! Well, sort of. It's the closest to winter I've been in a good long while - Australia having its seasons upside down - but also the closest to winter that I've got full stop. The weather has got steadily warmer. Hey ho.
Michael is a personable sort of chap and we chatted about travelling and volunteering as the taxi sped us through the streets. There are no shiny black cabs here, just small, white, student-y looking cars whose back seats are easily filled with a jos and a backpack. I spent most of the journey gorping out of the windows, trying to take everything in. Contrary to what you may have heard, Kathmandu is not a 'could be anywhere' city. It's polluted, sprawling, noisy and colourful in a way that I've not seen in Europe or Australia or most other places that I've been. Every building is different and appears to have been placed - and decorated - more or less at random. People brave the dust and the capricious behaviour of the traffic to sell vegetables at the side of the road. Children play with suspiciously Victorian-esque sticks and hoops. East may meet West here, but it's a pretty one-sided fight.
We arrived at Papa's House #2 where was to stay for the next seven days. It's the smaller and newer of the two orphanages that Michael runs. As soon as I got through the gate, I was greeted as the new big sister to the fourteen kids that call the place home. As well as the children, there were also four other volunteers staying at the House while working on various projects, plus a full-time 'Daddy' and 'Mama'. It's a big, clean, characterful building, if rather colder inside than out. The ground floor has the kitchen, school room and one of the children's bathrooms. The first floor has another bathroom and the children's dorm rooms. The second floor is for the volunteers, with a bathroom, kitchen and shared bedroom, while the third floor is basically just the roof and the office of Prakas, the coordinator.
I arrived just in time for tiffin. How terribly British of me; I shall be wearing a bright red coat and trying to re-build the Empire next. Tiffin consisted of noodles and a metal tumbler of tea. Take a moment to consider why a metal receptacle might not be very practical for holding hot liquids. Still, it was such a noisy, friendly meal that such practicalities weren't hugely important. I spent the afternoon chatting to various folk and generally settling in. I was also introduced to the idea of 'load shedding', which is basically daily power cuts organised by the government as there aren't enough resources to power the city constantly. For whatever reason, this seems to be generally scheduled to start around sunset and last for the next few hours. The price of candles is steadily rising due to rumours of the number of 'load shedding' hours increasing.
Dinner - and indeed, most meals thereafter - consisted of white rice (baat), lentil soup (daahl) and curried vegetables, all eaten with a tea spoon. The vegetables included dice-sized chunks of chilli but luckily that made them big enough to avoid, even by candle light. For those of you that I know will ask, we're talking a standard D6. Between lack of light and general jet lag, I went to bed soon after dinner that night. There are no mattresses here which makes the beds pretty hard. However, when you've spent the last seven months sleeping in hostels, a firm surface to sleep on seems almost a luxury. At least for the 30 seconds or so until you fall fast asleep.
