Day 152 - Old and New Friends

We shared the lodge with a group of travel agents checking out Sapana's facilities for Shoestring Travel. They had an elephant ride scheduled for the early morning, and as we were packing, we heard the elephant driver talking to his elephant. I peeked out the window, and it was none other than our old friend Jumbadu! I went down to say hello, and was pleasantly surprised that both Jumbadu and his handler remembered me. Jumbadu nuzzled me with his trunk, and seemed to enjoy getting scratchies on his trunk and chin. After greetings were exchanged with both elephant and handler, he (Jumbadu) proceeded to sniff me over from head to toe. Whne he reach my shoes, he curled his trunk in on itself and took a step back. I think I might be burning my shoes when we get home.

Jumbadu is a young male elephant. Once they are mature, boy elephants only think about food and sex. (not unlike some boy humans...) As they mature, glands which secrete a liquid open up on the sides of their head. If this liquid gets into their mouth, it makes them aggressive and unpredictable. Carrying tourists becomes too boring for them, and they are retired to stud or to working in hte forest. Jumbadu is developing the gland on one side of his head already, and his handler thinks that he will only be tame enough to play with tourists for a maximum of five more years.

After seeing Jumbadu off (and accidentally dropping scraps of food for Lukar), we took the lodge jeep to the bus stand. At the stand, we met another American who also happened to be heading to Delhi. He had spent the summer teaching in Rajasthan, and was just finishing a trek and visit around Nepal with his family before heading into India to visit a college friend. We hit it off, and decided to be travel buddies at least as far as Delhi.

The bus ride to the bus station nearest the border crossing was uneventful.

So was the rickshaw ride the rest of the way to the border.

M (our new friend), had crossed into Nepal at a smaller border post in the middle of the night. The border guard had to be woken up to check his visa, and forgot to put in an entry stamp. This was not a problem while he was traveling in Nepal, but the Nepali border police at this border refused to grant him an exit stamp without the official entry stamp. A 2000 rupee 'fine' (read bribe) later, he crossed into India, got an exit stamp from the India border post, and then retuned to the Nepali side, where he was able to get both entry and exit stamps.

We all walked to the Indian side together. The Indian border post tried to tell him that he had to stay in Nepal for 24 hours to be granted re-entry into India, but another 'fine' was payed, and we were on our way.

After a short walk into India, snagged the last three seats on a bus headed for Gorakhpur, the nearest railway station. After we took our seats, they continued cramming people on to the bus. It was like riding the 'L' train out to Brooklyn during rush hour - sardines have more roomy accomadation.

We forgot that the bridge just outside Gorakhpur was structurally unsound, and that buses were not allowed across.

Everyone on the bus tumbled out and into waiting auto rickshaws. After some intense haggling, we agreed on 50 rupees each and crammed ourselves into the auto with a huge Indian family. Rickshaws are designed to carry 4-6 passengers. Ours had 15. The littlest child in the family actually wound up on my lap. The children were all charming though. They all wanted to talk to me, but were too shy, so the girls would whisper to the boy on my lap, and he would then talk in formal school English - How old are you?, Where is your home?, and the like. When I would return the questions, all the kids would giggle wildly, and the answers would all be funneled back through the little boy.

The rickshaw driver was less charming. As soon as we were onboard, he tried to raise the price back up to 100 per person. We refused, and he relented. Then he tried again, and again we refused. Then, when we were almost to the train station, he pulled into a gas sattion and demanded all our fares (read 100 rupees each). We outright refused. He insisted. He claimed the rickshaw was almost out of gas. The Indians gave him some money, so M payed his fare, and we said we would pay the balance when we got to the train station. We then continued to the train station - without putting any gas in the rickshaw! At the station we handed over the rest of our fare, and headed to the trains. The Indian family stayed behind to tear into the driver. Grandma led the charge. You do NOT mess with Indian grannies, I have learned.

At the train station, we discovered that the train to Delhi was full. We bought waitlist tickets. Every hour I would go to the window and check if we had confirmed seats. Eventually we had one seat confirmed, but the other two still waitlisted. The ticket man said to go ahead and get on the train, that there would probably be space. This may have had something to do with the few hundred extra rupees we slipped into the fare.

There were, in fact seats, and we were soon rolling our way across the subcontinent.

Bribery (never called such, though) is a way of life in India and Nepal, but today was extraordinary. In less than 6 hours, M bribed his way through two border posts, and the three of us bribed our way onto a 'full' train. I am feeling quite pleased with myself.

Day 151 - Technical Difficulties

Today was our one full day at Chitwan. We planned to spend it catching up on the blog, but unfortunately, the computers at Sauraha (the nearest town), were running too slowly to support blogger.

Instead, we down to the river to watch the elephants having their baths. When we did our elephant wash a month ago, an elephant was brought over to Sapana, and I got to ride her (even got to control her myself!) down to the water. The group elephant wash is much more touristy. Most of the elephants from the breeding center come from their morning jungle treks, and converge on the river behind one of the lodges. Anyone who wants to can go into the river and play with the elephants, but it is much more impersonal.

We were highly entertained by one teenage elephant. He was small - about the size of a clydesdale horse - and invented his own game with the guy trying to wash him. Teenage elephant would crouch in the water. Tourist would climb on, whereupon teenage elephant would give a big shake and toss him right back into the river. Teenage elephant would look very pleased with himself, and crouch down again, as if to say, c'mon, I dare ya...

This looked like it could go on indefinitely. My money's on the elephant.

Day 150 - Kathmandu to Chitwan

We try to keep our bus rides under 12hours. Buses in South Asia are incredibly convenient, but comfort is generally not a priority. More than 8hours and one's butt is in danger of permanent damage.

For this reason, we decided to break our trip back into India into more manageable chunks...that, and we like Chitwan.

The bus from Kathmandu was scheduled to leave at 7:00. We rolled out at about 7:30. Luckily it was still festival time, so traffic was relatively light. We drove through impressive mountain scenery, only stopping once, briefly for a pee-break and snack purchasing. The combination of light traffic and only one stop meant that the anticipated 7hour bus ride only took five.

As a consequence, we arrived at the Chitwan bus park 2hours ahead of schedule. Sapana was going to send someone to collect us, but because we were so early, we decided to walk to the lodge. We just trekked about 200K in the mountains...we figured 2K on the flat wasn't going to kill us.

And it didn't. We actually crossed paths with the Sapana Jeep on its way to the bus park, and so were able to hitch a ride after all.

After settling in, we went down to the restaurant for lunch. The newest member of Sapana's staff, a grey kitten named Tukie, thought that Cz made a great jungle gym. Tiny kitten claws are not so condusive to good reading, but cute trumps claws, so Tukie got away with just about everything, including an attempted flying leap into our plate of buff momos.

We spent the rest of the afternoon doing laundry, reading, and generally relaxing.

In the evening, the sound of singing and clapping drew us to the window. A group of children were clustered below, performing. In Chitwan, as in Kathmandu, part of the festival activities include children going door to door singing and dancing for money and sweets. In any given night, several groups might come by, and the festival goes on for nearly a week. By the end of Diwali, the owner of Sapana had given out over 2000 rupees to these roving bands!

Also as a result of the festival, Sapana was running on limited staff...including no one in the kitchen. Luckily one of the other staff is an excellent cook, and made dhal bhat tarkari (rice, lentil soup, and vegetable curry) for everyone. While we were eating, one of the geckos (tiny lizzards that eat mosquitos) that live in the thatch over the dining area decided that he wanted to be a little festive too, and took a flying dive into another guest's beer mug. He eventually was nudged back onto the table where he staggered around for a bit licking his lips before scampering away.

I hate to think how his head felt in the morning.

Day 122 - Good-bye Sapana Village, Hello Pokhara

In Nepali, the word Sapana means dream. We have spent the past five days at Sapana Village Lodge and the time really has felt like a dream. Even better, they are very active in improving life for the local people. Nepal is one of most beautiful and friendly places in the world. It is also one of the poorest. Literacy for women is less than 30 percent, and literacy for the country hovers between fifty and sixty percent. Parents believe that education is a way to a better life for their children. Most children, boys and girls alike, are sent to school, but the buildings are fiercely over-crowded and under-funded, with as many as 95-100 pupils for every one teacher. Sapana village hires all local labour, sources the food for its restaurant almost entirely from the local farms, offers many programs to meet and visit with the local villagers, and is using 50 percent of its profits to build a new school on part its land.

This is their first full season, so they are not yet listed in any guidebooks. If you are visiting Chitwan, consider spending at least a part of your stay at Sapana Village. They are a little more expensive than some of the surrounding guest houses, but the accommodations and services are on par with the much more expensive hotels in the park proper. And they are doing good for the area. Their webste is under construction, but it can be found at www.sapanalodge.com. That's my plug. I wish them success.

For our departure, Didi (one of the staff) placed a tika on our forehead for safe journey, and garlanded our necks with flowers. We were carried by jeep to the local bus stand, and our driver saw to it that we were on the right bus.

The right bus, which unfortunately broke down as it wheezed its way up into the hill country. We waited for a while, and some futile attempts were made at reviving her, but no luck. If she was going to budge at all, it was going to be to roll backwards down the hill from whence she came. This is not uncommon in Nepal. It is generally advised to be flexible by at least a few days in your travel schedule as roads are frequently blocked by landslides or Maoists, and the buses run far past their expiration date.

Our old girl out of commission, we waited by the side of the road until van heading toward Pokhara picked us up. We were approximately 15 people crammed into a 9-seat van, but luckily several got out at a town only a few kilometres into the journey. The rest of us made it to Pokhara in good time in our much faster, younger carriage.

Power in South Asia is a fickle thing. Short power outages are a daily occurence, and we have learned to carry our headlamps with us everywhere. Nepal goes one step further. Most of the country's turbines are water-driven. During monsoon season, the rivers run high, and electricity is fairly abundant. Still, to save power, there are national power cuts for four hours every week. All of Nepal goes dark from 6-8PM on Thursdays and Sundays. This is pretty manageable. As the dry season progresses, however, the cuts can increase up to twelve hours every week, which begins to affect business, tourism, and children's ability to do homework. We rode out today's power outage at the Chettri Sisters (3 Sisters) guest lodge sipping drinks and watching the moon and stars over Phewa Tal (the large lake in the center of town). Unrivaled by electric light, they sprawled wantonly across the sky. I was reminded with a jolt of the seasons changing when I spotted Orion - the surest fall/winter constellation - high overhead.

Day 121 - Bathtime in Chitwan

This morning we woke with the sun and walked home through patches of jungle, and local villages. We first stopped for chai at a home in the village. As before the children all stared and played around us. A few followed us a little ways down the road, dwarfed by the towering trees and very healthy chickens.

Nearer the main road (read mostly paved), we stopped at a roadside stall where we enjoyed yet more chai, and our two guides caught up on all the local gossip. A Tharu breakfast seems to be many cups of chai, a bit of chewing tobacco, perhaps mixed with a pinch of ground dates or other sweet, and plenty of gossip.

We spent the rest of the morning puttering around the lodge. I rode 'my' bike into town for few small errands, but mostly we puttered and read, and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

Then the elephant arrived. Today was my turn to 'help' with the elephant bathing. She lay down, and patiently allowed a Dutch girl and me to climb our way (even lying down she was very tall) onto her bare back. Then she slowly got to her feet and began strolling towards the river. I was in front, the Dutch girl in the middle, and her handler in the back. After a few steps, he passed his bamboo rod up, and told me I was in charge. A little nervous (OK a lot nervous and a little scared), I followed his directions. Luckily Badukali (a girl elephant - note the 'kali' on the end of her name) was very mellow and responded to light taps on the sides of her head (tap the side opposite the direction you want to go - sort of like neck-reining a horse) and nudges from my heels behind her ears. We forded a narrow stream, and then waded belly-deep into the river proper. Where Badukali lay down, and Dutch girl and I promptly fell off. At the handlers urging we sat on her belly and massaged her with smooth stones from the river bed, splashing water over her sides, and paying special attention to her head and ears.

When it was time for her to roll over to have her other side scrubbed, her handler had us sit on her and try to stay onboard as she rotated up and over. After several tries I managed to keep my perch as she slowly rolled herself up from lying on her side in the water to sitting up like a big dog. After a minute of celebration, her handler had me slide down her shoulder and stand square in front of her face, grasping an ear in both hands and with a knee high on her trunk. At a word from him she slowly raised her trunk, and lifted me up onto her head, where it was just a little scramble back onto her back. Which I promptly fell off of again as she lay down to have her second side scrubbed. It was all great, soggy fun, made more so because Badukali seemed to be enjoying herself as much as we were.

Out of the water we rode back up to lodge and the Dutch girl had a turn steering. We took many more photos with 'our' elephant, and rewarded her with tickles on her trunk and lips and by feeding her raw potatoes, which she cheerfully crunched whole.

I had no idea that I liked elephants so much. From a distance they are just big and a little strange. Up close though, they each have distinct personalities, likes, and dislikes. We have been lucky in that the elephants we have been around have been especially friendly ones, but they really do seem to epitomise the term 'gentle giant'.

After puttering about in Sauraha, we headed back to the lodge where we were informed that there was a "Tharu Cultural Programme" happening in town where local Tharu would be demonstrating a few traditional dances. We headed out to the local hall, where 90% of the audience consisted of tourists with their cameras and camcorders ready. There were harvest dances, stick dances, and even a man in a peacock puppet costume (complete with unfurling peacock feathers in the end). There was also an audience participation section where local Tharu and the tourists danced as the final section of the program.

Tomorrow we leave for Pokhara. We are going to miss this little hamlet.

Day 120 - Halfway!

Hello halfway mark! It seems a pity that after today we will be on the downslope of this trip when I feel like I am just now getting the hang of long-term travel. It is said that the first three months are the honeymoon phase, followed by a brief bit of depression and homesickness. If you can ride out that week or two of funk, you can travel for an infinite length of time, working as necessary to replenish funds, and then continuing on. I had my funk, and have now been travelling for over a month funk-free. I don't particularly want to come home, but other backpackers have said that it is virtually impossible to travel with debts taking their monthly toll. Most travelled for a few months like we are, returned home and held regular jobs to get debt free, and then left again, sometimes for years on end. I don't plan on doing anything so extreme, but the way I am feeling right now, the prospect is certainly tempting.

We had the day free, and I used the time to hitch a ride into town on the back of a motorbike with one of the staff. The nearest ATM was in Sarayangat, over an hour mortorbike ride away. The staff person stared over my shoulder during the whole transaction and talked excitedly with the security guard posted near the machine. I later learned that the ATM was brand new, one of the only in the region, and that he had never seen one in action before. This is so foreign to my very Western notions of an ATM or credit card machine on every corner. Here virtually all transactions are carried out in cash, and while money changers are readily available, means of getting money are quite sparse, and only located in tourist centers.

This evening, we went into one of the neighboring Tharu villages. Cz and I did a little prep work for dinner (snapping beans), and then Cz entertained all the village children with a combination of card tricks and taking their pictures and then showing them on the viewscreen. After the more complicated preparations were made - a chicken was killed and plucked, spices ground between two stones, and oil heated, I moved into the kitchen hut to learn how to prepare a meal. Everything is cooked over small wood fires built in earhten pits. The pots rest on top, and need almost constant attention as ingredients are added. It is hot, smoky work, requiring a delicate balance of maintaining the fire, stirring the food, and adding ingredients. All the village girls helped me, passing the right amounts of the right things, and nudging sticks under my pot as necessary. None of them spoke any english, but they were very friendly and curious, and I am sure amused at my ineptitude.

After dinner, we walked into the nearby jungle where we were to spend the night in the viewing tower. Two guides went with us to protect us from tigers and a known wild elephant in the area. We arrived at our perch unmolested, and climbed up to wait. No large animals made an appearance, but the sky was lit with stars, and forest around equally full of fireflies. We went to bed in surprising comfort with real beds, sheets, and mosquito nets with the sounds of the night jungle all around.

PS. Just read that Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize...He must be the most successful non-president ever. He can put his medal right next to his Oscar Statue...Maybe when the musical version of "An Inconvenient Truth" comes out, he can win the Tony for it as well.

Day 119 - Bike Versus Elephant

The Terai is the flat region of Nepal. As such, it is ideal for exploring by bicycle. Today we took bikes and a guide from the lodge and rode out to the 20,000 lakes district, a preserve that, although it does not have quite 20,000 lakes, is marked by lakes, wetlands and streams. We saw a croc sunning himself, and loads of birds. The forest is jewel-tone semi-tropical jungle. As a result, most of the birds have adapted with jewel-tone plumage. Some of the most common are irudescent blue kingfishers, emerald flycatchers, peacocks, green wood pigeons, and black-headed orioles (imagine a pigeon-size goldfinch).

20,000 lakes is protected, but large parts of it are set aside as community forest for use by the Tharu. Near the end of the preserve, we stopped for tea in a village. The children were very curious, but also very shy. We took pictures of these two girls as they stared at us, whispered, and giggled. Seeing the image of themselves on the viewscreen (hooray for digital cameras) set them in new paroxyms of giggling and whispering, though they still were too shy to come and sit with us.

We returned to the lodge for a late lunch and shower. I was in the room when Cz called that it was time to go on our elephant safari. I came out expecting the jeep to take us to the elephant stable, but no, backed up to the landing of the steps leading to our room was a patiently waiting elephant. A second elephant waited nearby, calmly munching grass and 'pruning' the hedges. We climbed on board, and trundled off in the direction of the forest. Our elephant was a young male named Jumbadu. 'Badu' on the end of an elephant's name means "boy". Girl elephants all have names ending in "Kali". Jumbadu, his handler, and the neighborhood children all had a very friendly relationship. When they rode their bikes near the elephant, the handler made mock threatening noises, and Jumbadu lumbered into a brisk trot after them. The kids on bikes slowed to let us pass, but then darted back in front, and the game was on again. Everyone (including Jumadu himself) seemed to regard the elephant as really overgrown, friendly puppy.

The brochure advertises that jungle animals are not afraid of "their big brothers", and therefore, if you are on an elephant it is possible to view the wildlife at close range. This certainly proved to be the case this evening. Only a few minutes into the ride, we came upon a mother and baby rhino bathing in a stream. They barely even twitched their ears as each elephant in the group came up to the water's edge with its load of camera-flashing tourists.

After the rhinos, we forged a path deeper into the forest, Jumbadu breaking off (and occasionally eating) branches as necessary to clear the way. As we crackled through the brush, we saw a bearded dear, two Jungle Eagle Owls (about the size and shape of the American Great Horned), and a monkey. Back in the grasslands (the forest around Chitwan is a patchwork of tall trees, scrub, and grassland), we spotted a pair of wild boar rooting for grubs and shoots.

A short while, two river fordings, and another march through the trees later, we came to another clearing. Where a herd of deer passed by a grazing rhinocerous as a large crane soared overhead. If someone had told me about it, I wouldn't have believed them, but apparently that density of animals isn't that uncommon in Chitwan. Had we been travelling on foot, they probably would have dispersed, but because we were on elephant-back, they simply continued on with their daily business.

We were particularly lucky with our friendly, playful elephant. Other riders enjoyed seeing the animals, but spent much of their rides in fear of their older, more cantankerous beasts. At the end of the ride, we each paused to pat Jumbadu and scratch his trunk and ears... and of course pose for pictures.

Our companions at the lodge today and for the elephant trek were a rowdy group of Canadians waiting for weather in the Everest region to improve enough for their flight out to their trek. Dinner became much more lively with the introduction of a guitar. One of the kitchen staff is a very talented player, and he introduced us to some of the latest Nepali hits. He was soon joined by the Canadians' guide on a drum. Then a tambourine appeared from somewhere. Soon the entire staff of the lodge was playing, singing, dancing, adn trying to convince us to dance as well. The merriement lasted well into the night. OK about 10:00, but that's probably the latest we have been out since arriving in Nepal. In the rural areas (the only part of the country we have seen so far), people tend ot get up with the daylight (around 6:30 or 7:00) and go in soon after dark (about 6:30). We have adapted to the schedule somewhat, getting up for early morning hikes and bikerides, and going to bed around 9PM after a few roadside chais or a bit of stargazing. It has been an altogether peaceful week.

Day 118 - Heart of Darkness

Today started far too early for civilized people. After breakfast at 6:15, we were in traditional dugout canoes floating down the river by seven. The canoes feel far less stable than their aluminum counterparts, and I was grateful for the skill of our boatman. Even more so when we passed by a marsh mugger - the larger of the local crocodile species, and one that is not adverse to the occasional human snack. He was drifting with the current and sniffing at the remains of a calf. The bloated carcass did not pass muster, and when he disappeared underwater, I was convinced we would soon feel the thump, thump, thump of his snout on our boatfull of tasty fresh people meat.

We managed to get by without being eaten, and were soon ooh-ing at a large rhino eating vines near the shore. Unfortunately he ducked his head just as we snapped his photo, but he made rhino number two in not even 24 hours in Chitwan!

The river also supported dozens of birds, fish, and far less threatening Gharial Crocodile. Smaller and skinnier than the mugger, the gharial feeds only on fish. He's still pretty toothy though.

Out of the canoe, we proceeded into the jungle. This is proper jungle. The Royal Chitwan Park is close to 1000 square kilometres of forest, scrub, and grassland, most of it unmarked by trails. Any visitor is required to obtain permits from the government office, and go with two guides, one to walk in front, and one to walk behind, both carrying large sticks. Before beginning our walk, our two guides explained what to do in the event of an elephant or rhino attack (climb a tree or run in a big zig-zag), sloth bear attack (stay still and try to look big and threatening - they are fast and can climb trees, but think like dogs, so if you don't run, they may not chase you), or tiger attack (we probably won't see a tiger, if we do, that's why we carry big sticks). Thus prepared, we set off.

Sometimes we followed clear paths. Sometimes we pushed our way through damp brush and elephant grass. We paused often to listen for animals and pick leeches off our clothes and skin. The leeches don't particularly hurt, nor do they even leave an itchy bite, It's just gross having essentially a blood-sucking slug attaching itself to you.

Leeches aside, one of the first animals we encountered, we only heard, never saw. The barking deer make a strange, loud mating cry. We listened for while, looking in the direction of the sound, because the barking deer is a favourite prey of tigers, and where there are deer they may be tigers. But we did manage to see two sloth bears (a rarity at this time of day) grazing about. We got close enough to see how big they were and for them to see us and scatter to the tall grass. Not fast enough though to take a picture, we were too struck at the luck of it all.

We rested at one of the watchtowers for a late lunch where we were told some rhino encounters by the guides (mostly involved running away, climbing, and finding lost tourists hidden in the tall grass) and also that in a week or so, the tall elephant grass would be cut down exposing the plains and the animals hiding in them. As we headed down to the river to meet a canoe that would ferry us back to civilization, it started to drizzle. We were lucky enough to have caught our ride back to the lodge, where we were able to enjoy the afternoon rain under the canopy of the restaurant, sipping on our fresh glasses of mango juice. At the distance, we could see the plains, and a very pretty rainbow. A much better ending than one Kurtz had to endure.

Day 117 - Lumbini to Chitwan

We started the morning with a scramble. Nepal national time, it turns out, is 15 minutes ahead of Indian National Time. As a result, we were 15 minutes late getting to our bus to Chitwan. Thankfully, Nepali buses run about as late as Indian trains, so we made it in plenty of time. We had reserved seats, and rode inside this time - better for the longer haul. The dash of the bus was liberally decorated with stickers ranging from Bob Marley, to "I Heart Nepal", to Britney Spears, and ceiling festooned with fringes and silk flowers. We have since learned this is standard fare for Nepali buses, and greatly enhances the riding experience.

The roads were the standard South-Asian mix of potholes, cows, and suicidal chickens. Chickens here frequently do not bother to cross the road, preferring instead to dust bathe in the middle. Luckily our driver was very careful, and we made it to Saryangat with little worry. Our biggest concern was that all the roadsigns were in Nepali - no Latin letters. Suddenly illiterate, we weren't sure how we would know when to get off the bus, since the stops weren't announced, and this bus was going all the way to Kathmandu. I finally asked the driver, and he and the other passengers all waved us off when the right time came.

Once in Saryangat, we needed to find the local bus to Saurha Chowk. As in India, local Nepali bus signs are all written in Sanskrit. The best way to get where you need to be is to walk from bus to bus calling out the name of where you want to go until one of the drivers waves you on. As we made our way down the market street, a group of taxi drivers stopped us and offered us a ride. When we told them we were looking for the bus, they pored over my guidebook for a minute, corrected my pronunciation, and sent us in the right direction. This would not have happened in India. The drivers would have wanted the fares too badly, or misdirected us, or wanted to be paid for giving the directions. Here, everyone we passed tried to help, waving us in the direction of the local microbuses - basically converted 1970's camper vans.

Crammed on the bus to Saurha Chowk with a busfull of local Nepalis, we rolled out for the last 11 Km. At every crossroads, the bus slowed and the driver called out Saurha Chowk, Saurha Chowk, and passengers hopped on and off while the bus rolled on.

Our progress was slowed somewhat by a protest march involving not only local school groups and elders, but also a few elephants. I don't know what they were marching for, but they all smiled, waved, and stared at the foreigners (us). Chitwan is in somewhat contested Maoist territory, but both sides are only hostile to each other. Foreign guests are enough of an oddity, and the Nepali people are such famously gracious hosts, that travel here is quite safe.

We had been recomended the Sapana Village Lodge by an Irish boy we met in Varanassi. Someone from the lodge was to pick us up from Saurha Chowk. Saurha Chowk is actually a rather large bazaar, and we were a little concerned how we were going to find our contact. We needn't have worried. If our packs weren't enough a of a giveaway, being the only non-Nepalis around made us stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. A few seconds after we tumbled out of the bus, a friendly young man greeted us and tossed our packs into a waiting jeep with a drowsy elephant painted on the side.

We arrived at the lodge shortly after 1:00, and were instantly greeted by the owner and several of the staff. We parked our bags on the porch of the building, and were lead to the open-sided restaurant for sandwiches and mango juice. Only after lunch did we discuss the logistics of our stay - how long, what we would like to do, cost etc. The whole thing was totally relaxed and hassle free.

Unlike the other guesthouses, clustered around the village center, or the expensive lodges in the park proper, Sapana sits in the middle of the local farmlands. From our porch, we can watch rice farmers, water buffalo, goats (three goats are employed by the lodge itself for pruning and weed control), and children fishing and playing in the river. The rooms are huge and airy, and the bathrooms are immaculate ( a rarity). The showers are even HOT.

After a shower and a little rest, a guide from the lodge took us to the Elephant breeding center. It was evening feeding time when we arrived. The elephants who had their dinners rumbled happily as they stuffed bundles of grass-wrapped rice, molasses, and vitamins into their mouths. Those still waiting swayed anxiously on their tethers, some even pawing the ground like giant ponies. One rebel baby elephant wandered about loose, picking at tender grass, and stealing snacks from the larger elephants when they weren't looking.

We walked past the elephant stables and into the surrounding brush, where we spotted our first wild rhino! It was quite large and lumpy, and looked for all the world like something left behind by the dinosaurs. They are after a fashion - fossil records show tat they haven't changed much over the past few million years. We also saw prints of wild elephants. The wild elephants actually cause real problems at the breeding center because they break in and knock up the domestic elephants. There are already 3 or 4 unplanned babies, and one ruined shelter as a result of these liasions. A very tall electric fence has been put up to keep the wild elephants out, but I get the feeling that they might be up to the challenge.

Back home agin at the lodge, we ate a fine meal of traditional Nepali dishes. We had planned to go in after dinner, but the sky was awash with stars. We sat for ages on lawn chairs stargazing, watching fireflies, and listening to the bugs and frogs. There were tons of shooting stars - even one huge one that looked more like a blazing comet than the typical darting light. Tomorrow morning we wake up very early for a dawn canoe ride, and then spend a whole day in the jungle. We suddenly feel like guests on a luxury exotic vacation rather than hardened backpackers. And that's OK.