Although I had a great appetite for hitting the trails, I didn't want to be confronted with the cold again. Also the fact that many tourists do the typical Annapurna Sanctuary and Circuit treks (many gave it the label 'Coca Cola trek'), made me decide to do something else. I wanted to be close to the Nepalese and understand more of how they live. In 1995 I did the Langtang trek but after four days we had to return to Kathmandu after we were snowed in. In stead we made a low altitude trek south of Kathmandu. Still I have great memories of this trek. We entered an unspoiled area with great views of the central hills and the eastern Himalayas (including Everest, Lhotse and Makalu). But especially the fact that we were in an area where people still lived without electricity, phones and cars made it interesting and special. The hospitality of the Nepalese - despite their poverty - was touching. Staying in their little but beautiful houses made it special and an experience never to forget. This time I wanted to visit such an area again. Based on the recommendation of a Scottish friend I met in Tibet, I stayed in a guesthouse named Butterfly Lodge, at Pokhara's Lakeside. This guesthouse had several advantages over the many other hotels/lodges. First, the big garden, which was a great spot to read, write and talk. Second all profits of the lodge go to a welfare organization; Child Welfare Scheme Nepal (CWSN). This organization in an English registered charity which main activity is the building and establishment of daycare/health centers in remote mountain areas in Nepal (infant mortality is extremely high in these areas). The organization is managed by a small group of foreigners and Nepalese. Overseas volunteers are also very active in teaching/coaching the locals as well as Nepalese teachers in training. Unlike many other established charity organizations, most funds (92%) go straight to the people in need; the children.

Eventually I decided to do the Royal trek, a low altitude trek (maximum 1730 meters) east of Pokhara. This trek got its name after Prince Charles hiked it approximately 25 years ago. However, after two days my guide (Parshu Ram Dahal) and I decided to change plans. It wasn't remote enough and I also became more interested in the projects of CWSN. Parshu, a young energetic guy (married with a boy), knew the area as he guided some people of CWSN there before. On the 13th of December we left the village of Lipini (which we reached on the second day of the Royal trek) and headed for Pakhurikot, a village five hours walking away. It was this part - and many to come - which made me understand why this area was so remote and too difficult for most trekkers to enter. My backpack weighted about 12 kilos but soon it felt like I was carrying three times that amount. All villages we visited were situated on the tops of challenging hills. Thus every day we had to climb several hills and after reaching the top, we had to go down again. Some of the trails were extremely steep, following stairs made by the locals, which seemed to never end. The longest one was a two hours climb up. The frustrating part was that many times we had to climb a steep hill and after reaching the top go down again, followed by another steep hill and another knee-shaking descent. I was amazed about some of these stairs made with loose stones. Too often they appeared as if they would never end. While climbing I tried to imagine how the village people built them - in some area's stones are not readily available and have to be hauled in from far by carrying them on the back. This thought made me realize that the weight of my pack was nothing compared to the heavy loads people (of which many children) carry on their backs in bamboo baskets carried by means of a head-strap (called 'doko') while walking bare foot or on flip flops.

In Pakhurikot we stayed with the Bahadur Gurung family. None of the villages in this area had guesthouses or hotels. Like many men, Mr. Bahadur Gurung served in the Indian army (he served 30 years) and was now running his farm and at the same time enjoying the Indian army pension. For most man the Indian army is the best alternative to farming. It pays better (also compared to the Nepalese and British army) and after many years of service a pension can be earned. I met a lot of men in these villages who either served in the Indian army (and were on their once a year leave for two months) or had served in the past. The women would stay behind, taking care of the children and together with the parents run the farm. That night, by coincidence, I met three Nepalese who also stayed with the Bahadur Gurung family, who were part of the CWSN management and were on their way back to Pokhara after a 5-day tour to the villages in which they built nurseries and medical facilities. That night we enjoyed a wonderful daal bhaat (the national dish of Nepal; lentil soup with white rice and, if available, vegetables) and fresh distilled warm raksi (a local spirit made from millet. The distillation process is very interesting, done in various brass pots over a wood fire). It was during that evening, by talking to the three people of CWSN, that I learned a lot about the Nepalese society, its challenges, problems and culture.

Almost every night I was invited in the beautiful kitchen of my hosts. Of course - as custom demands - I ate without utensils, just with the right hand - with aama (means mother in Nepalese) carefully checking if our plates were ready for some more daal bhaat. Every time I sat in these kitchens I had a great feeling of joy and comfort. Sitting on a grass mat on the floor around a little fire on which the aama prepared basic but delicious food. Daal bhaat in the most famous Nepalese food and normally eaten twice a day (around 9:00 and 19:00 hours). I didn't seem to get enough of daal bhaat. After a strenuous day of hiking the meal is just delicious. Also, every aama has her personal touch to it, so it never tasted the same. Also, I will never forget the moments I sat outside with bua (father) and Parshu around a fire, with a clear sky with millions of stars (several nights I watched multiple meteors shooting through the sky) and the sounds of barking dogs.

The three people from CWSN, after they noticed my sincere interest in their organization, advised me to visit at least two other villages; Singdi and Pasgaun (in the district of Lamjung). So the next day, after a wholesome daal bhaat, we left for Singdi. The scenery was beautiful and so much different from Bhutan and Tibet. Here we walked through forests and along rivers. Passing locals enthusiastically greeted with "namaste" (said with palms together as if praying). The villages we passed were surrounded by impressive terraced fields; some in which water buffalo's were standing, quietly staring at the people passing by. After a while the scenes and sounds of day-to-day activities in the villages, were recognizable. The sounds which came from the government school was unmistakably that of children playing or repeating what their teacher just wrote on the board (these schools are simple brick barracks with no glass windows). At the central water tap women washed themselves or filled their water jugs while balancing a small child on their back. Somewhere else a woman made flour from millet by turning two round grinding stones. Another woman removed the outer skin of rice by using a huge beam. Chickens and cocks walked everywhere as well as cows and water buffalo's. By the end of the day, just before sunset, I saw women and men returning from their fields while carrying an enormous amount of firewood on their backs.

My daily routine during those days was as follows: - 05:30 hours; the first crowing cock would wake me up. - 06:30 hours; aama would make me a fresh cup of milk tea made with fresh buffalo milk, sugar and cloves (In the meantime the village people were already in 'full swing' for at least one hour). - 07:00 hours; wash at the water tap. - 07:30 hours; write in my journal, walk around enjoy the morning. - 09:00 hours; daal bhaat. - 10:00 hours; start walking. - 11:30 hours; drink a cup of milk tea somewhere along the trail with locals at their home. 14:00 hours; daal bhaat where an aama was willing to prepare it or noodles. - 15:30 hours; arrive in the village. - 18:00 hours; raksi. - 19:00 hours; daal bhaat. - 20:00 hours; to bed. During my stay with the people in these villages, I realized what 'giving' actually means. I thought that by donating money to different welfare organizations on a yearly basis I could pay off my own 'guilt' or would so something back to society. Although that is true to some extent, staying at peoples houses, eating their daal bhaat, drinking their raksi and milk tea, made me feel different. Without any hesitation people would let my guide and me stay at their houses. They were interested in me and wanted to know everything from the world I came from. They provided me with bedding even when one of their own children had to give up his bed for me and therefore had to sleep somewhere else in the village. Many people also refused to take money for the things they supplied to us (so we had to either put it in their hands or leave it in the kitchen).

Also, I saw how much good local development projects (like the ones of CWSN) did to a village and its inhabitants. I have seen how happy people are with the help of foreigners especially as they know that their own government needs 10 to 15 years to accomplish what CWSN can do in less than one year. I have seen that due to these great projects local people gave up their own time to help building nurseries or medical facilities (and therefore weren't able to work on their fields) or would supply building materials at minimal or no costs. I have seen many, many children with smiles on their faces to die for; children who normally wouldn't be bale to play or learn how to read/write. I have seen kids who normally had to join their parents in the fields with the chance of getting injured or even dying due to the fact that their parents weren't able to look after them. On the 14th of December I visited my first nursery built by CWSN. One of the overseas volunteers there was a Dutch woman. During a week she and a Nepalese trainer teacher would coach local women to run the school. At night we cooked daal bhaat on the play ground of the nursery and slept in the building. The next morning at 10:00 hours children (age 2 - 5 years old) would arrive and prepared for the morning ceremony which was great to watch. On of the things, which struck me, was the fact that many kids who arrived at the nursery weren't clean. CWSN demands parents to properly wash their children before they go to the nursery. After the ceremony kids were checked if they were clean. Those who weren't (about 15 while I was there) were told to wash themselves before coming to the day care facility. This was followed by a run to the water tap. Later I was told that many parents don't like the cold water. It was an emotional sight to watch the children run to the water tap (just one) and start cleaning themselves. Some were so dirty that they started to clean themselves with sand to rub off the dirt. Fortunately the teachers put an end to that and provided soap. Soon we assisted the two teachers and there I found myself washing the hairs of a 5-year old boy. Soon after we said goodbye. It was great to see all these happy faces; kids who were able to be kids.

The next destination was Pasgaun, a 2-hour walk. This village didn't have a nursery yet, but started construction. Here I stayed with the Jamuna Gurung family. Aama gave me the name Krisna (outside the Netherlands the name Arnoud doesn't do too well) which she used frequently. It was here that I for the first time ate dough made from millet flour. People here eat it by making little balls of the dough, dipping it in the daal and swallow it without chewing on it. That last part didn't work for me too well. The millet paste is tasteless and fills the stomach in no time. Just before bedtime we got fresh boiled cow milk, which was delicious. This family owned a little store and in the attic we were offered a bed. That night we slept between the boxes of instant noodles, sweets and powder milk. The next morning, after a healthy daal bhaat, we left for Rabeidarda. Again we had to follow a steep path which never seemed to end. Down at the Madi river we relaxed for one hour and drank some milk tea. That day we only had a 2-hour climb to face; a relative easy day. Rabeidarda was a nice little village with about 800 residents. This village appeared to be less organized that the previous villages we visited. For example, there were hardly any paved paths. Singdi and Pasgaun were different villages. There the houses were built very close to each other, as opposed to Rabeidarda. It was in this village that I was able to witness a meeting among the many farmers. Later I was explained that partly due to the caste system (an apartheid like system which officially was abolished in 1963, following India but still dominates all kinds of interactions in the Nepalese society) the difference between the many farmers became too big. This meeting was called upon to set prices for wheat, corn, rice, millet and even that of a bottle of raksi. Also the wages of temporary helpers (e.g. during harvesting) was set, as many poor farmers weren't able to afford to hire in help when needed. In the meeting it was also decided that those who didn't have a proper toilet facility had to construct one. This event by itself taught me a lot about the 'village life'.

On the 15th of January 2000, a new CWSN nursery will be opened here. People in the village were very enthusiastic about the presence of this day care facility. After again a very pleasant evening with fresh distilled raksi, boiled milk and daal bhaat, we put our heads to rest. The next morning early - after having fried rice for breakfast - we took off for Pokhara. We walked for about 4 hours and took the bus for the last stretch (another 2 hours). If possible I like to ride the local buses on the rooftop (if the bus driver and the weather allows). Some think it is crazy (I must admit that it was sometimes dangerous, especially when we had to dive down to avoid hitting power cables), others join me in my weird habit. I think it is a great way to ride the always-crowded buses. You get away from being stucked in a sweaty, cramped vehicle besides the fact that the seats in these buses are not made for long Dutch legs. The rooftop, although a very dusty place, is a great spot to enjoy the area, meet people (especially school kids like to ride on the top) and stretch the legs while comfortably lying on a sack of rice. Some locals think that sitting on the roof is more safe than sitting in the bus, as it offers you the chance to jump off in case the bus a bout to crash into a ravine (which regularly happens in these countries). I must admit though that sitting in the bus can be a lot of fun as well. I will never forget these moments that I sat next to the bus driver (on the engine cover), was given a baby to hold for more than an hour and shared food with locals. Or the moment I witnessed how a young lady - who almost gave birth - was brought in and driven to the next village (which apparently was close to a hospital).

I cannot forget to mention the bus driver himself and his helpers. These bus drivers always surprise me by their cool, relaxed way of driving (at least they appear relaxed as we foreigners sometimes wondered if we would ever reach our destination alive). No situation, either on the road or in relation to mechanical problems seemed to keep them from getting from A to B. Also bus drivers are authorities. They decide when to take a pee break (although I often requested one), where to stop for lunch and of course, they have to grant you permission to sit on the roof (often denied as it is officially forbidden). The helpers (often two) are crucial for the bus driver. Besides that they collect the fees, they also help the driver maneuver the vehicle by giving short whistle and vocal signals. The ride back to Pokhara wasn't without some 'interesting' delays. On two occasions our bus wasn't able to climb a steep hill road and had to drive backwards again for several new attempts. Sitting on the roof watching this happening was hilarious (covering my face with a handkerchief to avoid inhaling the immense clouds of dust).

The great staff of the Butterfly Lodge warmly welcomed me back when I reached my 'home'. It was great to meet up with familiar faces (of people I met in Pokhara, Tibet and Beijing before), meet new people and simply relax in the spacious garden with a book, music and Nepalese tea.

If you want to support CWSN as a volunteer, please contact Mr. Douglas MacLagan (project director) at +977 61 207 930.

Two other great organizations that initiate, support and manage welfare projects in the Pokhara region are Quality of Life and Global Child Welfare. These two organizations are managed by a Nepalese - Belgium couple, Ram and Sabine Sharma - Molemans. I know them very well and recommend them highly. If you need good lodging, a trustworthy guide, information or a welfare organization with a heart, contact Ram or Sabine. They can be reached at their guesthouse the Blue Planet Lodge. The address is:

Blue Planet Lodge, 6 Baidam, Lakeside, Pokhara, Nepal. Phone +977 (0)61 25991 or send an e-mail to blueplanet@cnet.wlink.com.np. Their website is: www.blueplanetlodge.com

To start, I wish you a happy, healthy and successful year 2000! If traveling isn't one of your new millennium resolutions........DO SO!

Christmas and New Year were very nice. Actually it was very nice to be in a country which didn't take part in the yearly Christmas/New Year's craziness you experience in the West. Nepal also wasn't too worried about the Y2K issue. Mostly because the country isn't that heavily penetrated by Y2K sensitive equipment/software and secondly because they already 'survived' the millennium change. More than 50 years ago this country celebrated the change to the second millennium (current year in Nepal is 2056). Christmas wasn't a too big of a thing either. As an extremely low number of Nepalese are Christians (Hinduism is the state religion of Nepal). At the house of a Nepalese-Belgium couple (Sabine and Ram), who are working for CWSN and are managing their own child welfare organization (Global Child Welfare), Mike, Jos (two Dutch I met in the Butterfly Lodge) and myself made a great Christmas dinner. Together we prepared tender chicken, Belgium potato chips and cucumber/tomato salad. Flushed down with homemade rum punch, imported (French) wine and Danish beer. It was a great evening.

Several days - between Christmas and New Year's - Pokhara was covered by gray clouds, which made it cold and caused the beautiful views of the Annapurna range to disappear. On the 27th of December the weather improved and I decided to climb up to Sarangkot (1590 meters), a village on one of the hilltops north of Pokhara. From there - on a clear day - one can have a magnificent view of the mountains. To bring a necessary change to my day-to-day life in Pokhara, I decided to stay in Sarangkot for one night. I had the opportunity to stay with the family of Ram who are farmers. Again I was confronted with a steep hill climb. By the time I reached the top, clouds moved in and I wasn't able to see a single mountain. Later that afternoon a volunteer of CWSN and her family joined me and also stayed the night. That evening we were taken care of by ram's parents, brother and two sisters. We ate great daal bhaat, drank fresh buffalo milk and had a wonderful night of sleep in the little guesthouse managed by Ram's brother.

Like most mornings the sky was almost cloudless. I woke up at 6:00 hours to witness the sunrise. From the moment the sun showed its face, clouds started to move in which made it a dramatic setting. However, Annapurna I, Machhupuchhre (also named 'Fish Tail') Annapurna III, IV and II were clear and beautiful. After a nice breakfast of chapati's with egg and tea I returned to the silent spot from which I witnessed the sunrise that morning. For several hours I sat on a big rock overlooking the valley north of Pokhara as well as the high Himalayan mountains. It was a great moment of peace and quietness. That afternoon I walked back to Pokhara as I was invited to join Sabine's and Ram's daughter first birthday party. The party took place in the garden of the Butterfly Lodge. It was a great celebration, together with Nepalese music, dance, a bonfire and many interesting conversations.

New Year's night was predominantly a party for and by foreigners. However, some Nepalese used it as an excuse to drink too much beer. I joined a group of 25 people, most of them stayed at the Butterfly Lodge and CWSN which I met in the past weeks. We ate at a Tibetan restaurant and were served a typical 'hot pot'. The last hours of 1999 I spent on the rooftop of Nature Grace Lodge (also affiliated to CWSN). A nice atmosphere with great people made it an excellent night to kick off the new millennium!

That night I only had one hour of sleep. At 7:00 hours I took a local bus to Tansen, a typical Nepalese market town in the heartland of the western hills, about seven hours driving south of Pokhara. The cold weather kept me from going on the roof. Tansen (also known as Palpa) was once the seat of a powerful kingdom. Tansen was relaxed and it appeared as if no other tourist had made it his/her 'first of the year destination'. This town has the biggest Main Gate (Mul Dhoka) of its kind in Nepal, tall enough for elephants (I didn't see one) and their riders to pass through. The next morning I hiked to Rani Ghat, an old palace along the Gandaki river which was built in the late 19th century by a former government minister who was exiled to Palpa after a failed palace coup. It took me about three hours to get there. Unfortunately the palace lost much of its beauty (once it was declared the most beautiful building of Nepal). It is now an overgrown shell, which would be a perfect setting for Halloween. The hike was great. It led through small villages with nice and helpful people, beautiful farmland and small waterfalls. From a big suspension bridge nearby the old palace I had a great view of the building and its surroundings. On the top of one of the little towers I ate my lunch.

The next day I left Nepal, with some regret I must say. However, I also looked forward to new adventures, a different culture and foremost to meet my mom in Calcutta (India). From Tansen I took the local bus to Butwal, and from there I took another bus to Sunauli, the border town of Nepal with India. Like many border towns, Sunauli was a crazy, hectic place, that has nothing to offer except for a exit stamp in my passport. After a kind "goodbye" of a Nepalese border official, I walked the 200 meters to the Indian immigration. Between the register books with labels which said "Kashmir Lookout Register" I filled out my immigration form. My visa was checked and cleared. I entered India.

It was extremely cold. The flat lands of the Tarai were covered by fog and the whole setting was sad. I missed the mountains as well as the 'quietness' of Nepal. Soon I found myself in the back of a little, overcrowded bus to Gorakphur (Uttar Pradesh province), a town 2 hours south of Sunauli where I planned to take the overnight train to Calcutta. The bus ride took forever. Several windows in the back were broken and a freezing wind blew through the bus (again you asked yourself why Arnoud likes these kind of trips?). Finally I reached Gorakphur's train station. Here I became part of the 'Indian train station spectacle'. Many people, many ticket windows (with many signs I couldn't read) and long lines. The town itself didn't appear to be very attractive, so I made it my mission to board a train to Calcutta as soon as possible. My option was the no. 3020 train to Howrah station (in Calcutta) which was to leave, according to the board, in 15 minutes.

The journey to Calcutta normally takes between 19 and 22 hours, so a sleeper accommodation (2nd class as a budget traveler) is the 'normal' way to go. However, how do you get a sleeper ticket in 15 minutes? You cannot. After running between four different ticket windows I was advised to buy a 'general admission' ticket, a ticket which only allows you to board the train and which doesn't secure you any seat, and for sure not a sleeper. What to do? I took the risk and bought the general admission ticket. It appeared that the train was delayed, so I was able to stock up some cookies, chocolate and water for the ride. Somewhat nervously - I really didn't feel like sitting in the crowded 'hard seat' wagon for 22 hours - I boarded the train. I immediately started my search for the train 'official' (who do not wear uniforms) as I was desperate to obtain that sleeper ticket. To be continued