A day in the life of a Nepalese – cliffs, clouds and culture.

Weather forecast warned me to expect daily rains in Nepal the following week when I was going to be in Kathmandu. I had signed up for a programme in the capital city and decided that I should take the opportunity to stay with a family in the village to experience life 2,300 metres above ground.

In September, I joined a lady from Singapore to Nepal. Unlike the weather forecast, Kathmandu welcomed us on a balmy afternoon. Clouds covered the skies over the next several days.

Departing for Sindhuli

After a night’s rest in Kathmandu, we departed at 5AM with another lady from Asia Pacific by first commuting on two minibuses before hoping onto a jeep to get to the family living in the mountains of Sindhuli. What was supposed to take five hours took nearly 12 hours.

You see, villagers live high up in the mountains. Instead of making many trips to town to buy their daily supplies, they place orders with jeep drivers who provide transport for villagers to travel back home. I lost count of the number of stops the jeep made to households while making its way up the mountains.

2,300 metres above ground

We reached our destination before sunset. The Nepalese family was eagerly expecting us. It was quiet up in the mountains except for children’s laughter, goats’ bleats and roosters’ crows echoing from farmhouses nearby.

The host cooked a homey meal of steamed rice, fried chicken and dal. Over the next two days, we had eggs, sautéed mustard green, more white rice, which I usually avoid eating in Singapore, and buffalo milk!

The kitchen was attached as a separate room to the combined living room and bedroom. The toilet was a stone’s throw away. Rainwater collected in a large container in front of the house was used for washing. We brought micropur forte to make water drinkable.

Life in the village was very much close to what I expected although it can be more comfortable if we had brought our sleeping bags. We kept our 2-day backpack as light as possible and overcame two chilling nights.

The briefing on Nepalese culture helped prepare us well. We were mindful of the way we sit and greet people; how we can politely decline generous servings of food; and how we should use different hands for different purposes.

The next day was spent visiting families, learning about their challenges, hopes and dreams, as well as joining their activities.

“Chia” in the midst of chaos

Our full day stay quickly came to an end. We were told that a jeep would pick us up at 6AM the next day to go to the base to take the public bus back to Kathmandu.

Next morning, we got to the waiting point at 5:30AM. No jeep was in sight.

By 6AM, the villagers told us that the jeep had left from another spot of the mountain at 5:30AM. No jeep will be available until the next morning.

The villagers were eager to host us for another day and persuaded us to stay. We declined cordially and encouraged them to help us find alternative ways to get us to the base. They made many phone calls and came back proposing a route that required us to go to a mountain to wait for a jeep that will take us to yet another mountain before reaching the base.

We reckoned that this could take 24 hours, so we requested them to explore alternative transportation modes.

While waiting anxiously for the villagers’ updates, a neighbour offered us tea. Nepalese people are very hospitable. It is their culture to invite passersby into their homes to have “chia”. The man in the house started the fire speedily with charcoal to boil water and plucked some fresh limes from his garden to serve us lime tea. He also gave us two avocados for our road trip.

A slam, a tilt and a fall…

Shortly after tea, we were informed that there were two motorcyclists willing to give us a ride, but there were three pillion riders. For our safety, we continued to wait patiently for them to find the third motorcyclist.

After making many more phone calls, the villagers found a motorcyclist who was actually planning to go to Kathmandu that morning. The bikers agreed to accept our lunch treat when we all get to the base. ?

“It will take an hour and a half,” said one motorcyclist. “We are taking a short cut. It’s an expressway and we don’t have helmets for you, not even for ourselves.”

We had to grasp the nettle and go with what was available because we must get back to Kathmandu that very day. Recalling how bumpy the ride up the mountains was – often crossing streams, going over rocks, gravel and sediments – we didn’t know what to expect of this “expressway”.

As we made our way down the mountainous terrain, we had to hold on tightly to the bike’s rear grab bar. The next one and a half hours down the mountain turned out to be the roughest, ruttiest, and most rugged ride of my lifetime. We saw ourselves living in a movie.

Sometimes, I had to dismount and walk and sometimes, the bike had to pass through narrow pathways that were partially covered by fallen rocks, forcing us close to the edge of the cliff.

The real drama unfolded when my motorcycle slammed into a rock so forcefully that it came to an abrupt stop. The bike lost balance, tilted to one side, and threw me off. What happened next was nothing short of a miracle — I landed on a small patch of grass surrounded by jagged rocks. How there could even be such a perfectly placed spot amidst rocks was beyond me.

Realizing I was safe, I burst into awkward laughter and quickly got back on the bike. The motorcyclist insisted I check for any injuries, but I found no visible bruises or scratches. Had the bike slanted to the right, I would have fallen off the cliff.

I had no pain and felt calm during the mishap. The journey was indeed challenging, but it was at such a great height that I witnessed the most breathtaking view – riding through clouds and feeling the stillness of mountains.

Reflection

What I appreciate about this adventurous trip was the warmth and hospitality of the Nepalese people. There is great sense of grace and timelessness among them that do not come naturally from especially people like us who grow up in developed cities.

I liken this experience to career development. We equip ourselves with the tools and skills we need to succeed, but we must expect the unexpected. There will be times when we must take unusual risks to reach our goals. Resources may be limited, and the journey may be uncomfortable, especially as we navigate cultural diversity, forcing ourselves to slow down to an uncomfortable pace. How do we handle the frustration when progress comes to a sudden halt, or we face setbacks? The real question is: do we have the resilience to rise again and keep moving forward?