The time I almost died

Have you ever almost died before? I'm sure you've thought about it. What feelings goes through ones head? What would be your last wishes? Would you be happy?
In India I hear stories of people dying almost everyday. I don't mean about those innocent people getting shot up in the hotel - may the rest in peace - but travelers. People get sick here. Travellers diarrhea can turn into a nightmare, that small bite on your ankle can lead to one less foot, and that wave that looks really small from the shore could be the last one you ever see again.
I don't want to exaggerate, of the tens of thousands of tourist who come to India only a small number die.

But it happens.

Here's my story, one I fortunately live to tell.

It was just another typical day. I woke up to the birds chirping, the horns honking, and a nice breeze coming through my window. It was a day just like any other day.
I went to the beach, met a German couple, had a chat, and after the sun was getting a little to hot, decided to hit the water.
I noticed the waves were a little bigger than the day before but thought nothing of it. I jumped in the water and laughed out loud as the first wave smashed into me. I wanted more so I started swimming out to the waves a little further from shore. I was swimming for less than 2 minutes when I suddenly hit a sandbar. Of course I was surprised. I stood up and looked towards the shore, which wasn't more than 200 meters away. Before I had a chance to look back a wave smashed me from behind.
I was a little surprised at first but what made my heart drop was the way the water was man-handling me. I felt the strong current sucking me towards the ocean.
And what did I do, panicked of course.
Before I could catch my breath another wave smashed me and this time I sucked in a whole bunch of water in. Still the rip was pushing me further away from the shore.
BOOM
Another wave hit me and I sucked in another mouthful of water and that's when the thought hit me.
"Am I going to die?"
It was simple really. I remember saying it, but not having any time to really think about it. I think it would have happened so fast. One more wave would have hit me, I would have became to exhausted to swim, and I would have sucked in one last breath of water and then, silence.
My passport was in my bag. The German people would have notified the Embassy. They would have called my parents. My body would be sent back home. There would be a funeral.
But I would see none of this. My life would be over.
Dead.
I would have died. Just like before I ever lived, there would be nothing.
Blackness.
Like when you sleep without dreaming.
But I'm alive. I live another day. I'm grateful and very happy about that. But I will say this now, if I would have died, or whenever it does happen, I am happy with how I lived my life
No regrets.
You can put that on my tombstone

The Jungle Safari-what started the whole trip?

It happened one cold day that resembled a nuclear winter in Shanghai. I was freezing and everything looked ugly and gray. I needed to get out of the harsh wind, if just for a few seconds. Ahead of me was a bookstore. Great.
I headed over to the English section and ahead of my was a pile of Lonely Planets. I picked up the nearest one which happened to be India. I started mindlessly flicking through the pages until I saw it. A beautiful rhino grazing in a warm, lush, jungle. It made me quiver and crave. I needed to go there. In a second a thousand thoughts went through my head. I grabbed a Nepal book, the India book, the Pakistan book, the Iran book, the Turkey book. It was possible. I could go to Europe overland. I looked back at the picture of the rhino. I needed to do this trip.

And here we are, one year later. I'm on a beach, I woke up to the waves gentling washing up on the shore. I am so comfortable and I owe it all the the rhino.

When I looked more into the trip I saw that it wasn't going to be as easy as it looked. I have learned from experience that what a map shows is not how the road goes. On the map it looked like a hop, skip, and a jump. In the book the trip would take more than 20 hours. After just coming down with a cold I needed to make a sacrifice so instead of trekking into the jungle in the far east of India I settled for a park just above Bangladesh.
The trip only took three hours from Sillinguri, the main northern city of West Bengal. I met a lot of interesting characters and finally I was dropped off at the park gates. I found a nice hotel, got some food, and arranged my trip.
The next day at 5:00 am a jeep picked me up and drove me the 15km into the jungle. From there came the big elephant. The seats on his back were really comfortable and within minutes we were gently tromping through the jungle. Within a half-hour our guides ears perked up. He saw something I couldn't see. I looked around frantically as I fumbled to open up my camera case. He whistled to the group behind us and we gently crept through field.
And there it was. A huge, beautiful, one-horned rhino. It stood munching some grass as two birds gently hopped on its back. The sun was just rising up behind it and the whole field was bathed in a gold light. A feeling of intense bliss came over me. This is what I came to see. I was speechless.
We didn't hang around to long and within another 15 minutes we had spotted another rhino. Then we saw a monkey, a flying peacock, and another rhino. The whole trip was over within an hour, a little fast I thought. But it was completely worth it.

So how much does a jungle safari cost.

Including all the transport, meals, accommodations, and the tour the trip cost 20USD. And if I had a couple friends it would have been even cheaper.

Its a trip you can't afford to pass up.

Darjeeling - hell in heaven

A hill station in November - great Idea Kyle.
I thought I needed to get a glimpse of the mountains one more time before I jumped down to the hot sands of the south. So I headed for Darjeeling - a small town in the hills that is snugged between Nepal, Bhutan, and Bangladesh.

There was such an interesting mixture of people that the first day I was there I was just complete captivated by them. They woman would wear kimonos or saris or jean jackets and the men would wear the same interesting mixture. With Indians biggest mountain as a back drop one would think that one could spend many wonderful days wondering around.

One would be wrong.

Day 2
Disaster
The stomach problem started with the road side curry a week earlier and came back with explosion tendencies. I would be sent running for the toilet whenever I ventured out of my hotel.
So I decided to stay in my hotel.
Bad plan
I was lucky enough to be blessed with not only allergies, but deadly ashma the goes with it. The blankets in mountain hotels are never washed properly and after one night of sleeping in my room I was congested, wheezing, and felt a cold coming on. Unfortunately when allergies start to bug me it weakens my immune system and by the second night I had the flu and still terrible stomach problems.
I was alone. But I was optimistic. Everything would be better tomorrow.
On the third day an army truck ran over a child, may he rest in peace, which sent the village into hysterics. They rioted and closed every shop in the village. The forth day I spent wondering around a ghost town. On the fifth day things were back to normal but I wasn't. I needed to get out.

The Poor, the mutilated, and the old man.

Do you want to experience real India?
Those letters were printed in large bold writing across the top of a paper.
The paper offered an experienced to help the poorest people in the poorest state in India.
I didn't want to pass up the chance.
An hour after the ambulance was filled with supplies, the doctors and physiotherapist was on board, and we were off.
The trip into the 'country-side' took a lot longer that I expected. The condition of the roads were terrible and if we weren't dodging pot-holes we were dodging trucks, dogs, birds, or elephants.
After about 2 hours we pulled up to an abandoned building. It was actually a school by day, and as I was to learn, a hospital by afternoon.
After minutes of arriving there was already a large crowd of colorfully dressed woman and children crowded around the door. The doctors took their time dusting the place, arranging the desks and getting their supplies together. 10 minutes later the hospital was ready.
Apparently because of a lot of births happening in homes instead of the hospital a lot of children are affected with cerebral palsy About half the child patients we saw that day were there to get some sort of physiotherapy treatment. According the the doctors most of the patients were getting better. Other patients came in just to get medicine. There was hope in their eyes, and they seemed to be very grateful for the service. Of all the people nothing hit me harder than the old man.
He came into the room limping. His blog-shot eyes shone with friendliness. He sat down and waited patiently in line. When it came to him the doctor asked the normal questions. The man replied the normal answers. I'm sure it was the same every week. One side of his face was falling asleep, he had stomach problems and a hard time sleeping. The conversation at some time became tense. I'm not sure what happened but tears started to stream down the old mans weather burnt face. He took off his glasses and sniffled while he spoke. He had no wife, no friends, nobody to take care of him. He was having a hard time finding food to eat and then when he did find it he had a problem eating it. He looked over his shoulder to where I was staring at him and I had a chance to really look into his eyes.
I felt sadness, unfairness, pity, an aching deep inside me that lasted for a long time.
The only help I could offer on the whole trip was to put some sugar in some bottles. Like most short-term volunteer work its more for the volunteer than for the people. I could not make a difference that day, but the Roots Institute is. They are doing an amazing job and anyone interested in studying Buddhism, meditation, or donating some money should consider them.

The Root Institue

We heard that they offered a free meditation class in the morning so we woke up at 5:30 and made the trek across town. At the time there were about 30 people doing a 10 day course. I'm not sure on all the details but I think its something similar to the Vipasanna course that I wrote about earlier. The only difference is that hear instead of giving a donation, you have a set payment, and this payment goes directly into the community.
http://www.rootinstitute.com/
I had a chance to experience this directly.

Bountiful Budha

Bodhgaya
Well Ive become a somewhat Buddhist pilgrim. So far I've traveled to the Buddhas birthplace, enlightened place, and first teaching place.

Although all were nice I found that none had the same energy as Bodhgaya. Everyday there were hundreds of people dressed in various shades of red, white, orange or, jean. People were found scattered around the main temple chanting, prostrating, or praying. You could see various groups of Buddhists, Thai's, Bangledesh..ians?, Sri Lankains, Koreans, all praying in different sections in different ways.
The city was dotted with temples of every Buddhist country. The fat Buddha laughed merrily in the Chinese temple while the humble Japanese Buddha looked like he was anorexic. It was such an interesting mix of different ways of worshipping to same man.
The best thing was the amount of giving that was going on. Almost every temple had some sort of program that was dedicated to help the poor, unhealthy, or uneducated. The Japanese temple ran a school, the Tibetan temple had a hospital, but by far the best, was the Roots foundation.

India and the most holy city, Varanasi

Open your web browser, type in India-Varanasi-blog. You will find stories from thousands of people who have been here long before me and many of them are much better writers. Essentially there is absolutely nothing new about what I am doing on this blog. The only difference is that you know me and don't know them. So I'm going to tell you the story of a guy.



It was six in the morning when he excitingly jumped off of his wooden plank called a bed. Kyle had just spent 7 days in a small yet exquisitely beautiful garden in Lumbini; also known as the birthplace of the Buddha. After 7 days of controlling himself and being mindful of everything he did, he was ready to loose control and loose his mind. This morning was the last day, and his bags were already packed.

Travelling in Nepal is a backpackers dream. Things are cheap and exciting, just as Kyle liked them. He jumped on the top of jeep and held on to the railings for dear life as it sped through the traffic clogged, pot-holed street. This would be his last glance of Nepal. "I'll be back." He told himself confidently.

Ahead towered a huge sign.



WELCOME TO INDIA



Men brushed their teeth with sticks that had been picked from a special tree known for its teeth cleaning capabilities and women caped in colorful yet secretive saris walked the streets. The roads were filthy, there were piles of garbage burning on the corners.

He boarded the first bus he saw heading for his destination, Varanasi.

Throughout the whole bus journey various people took interest in the guy. They found his red stubby beard, bright blue eyes, and brilliant gold hair of much interest. Not only that, they were surprised to see how much skin he dared show with his sleeveless shirt and short shorts. And his skin, so white, like the curd they ate with their morning cup of chai. Men would sit beside Kyle and start conversations in broken English about his country and their country, about their government policies and that of the Bush administrations. Some would talk about how beautiful westerns were and when Kyle complimented the women in their country they would go into full explanations on how it is inappropriate in India to talk to a woman who is not his wife. They reported that sleeping with another woman while married, if proved, would lead to a jail sentence of 10 years. Some people of a lower income bracket would sit beside Kyle and offer him food, which he would happily munch on with them. Although they could not converse, their was a general feeling of kinship and kindness. Before Kyle even got off the bus at his destination he had already fallen in love with the country.

The bus ride was much longer than anyone expected. It took over 12 hours to cover the 200 KM between the boarder and the city Kyle choose to go to. His legs were aching and his bum was numb. When he limped off the bus he had expected to be attacked by a mob of touts and drivers and thieves as he had been in other countries. Instead the bus station was empty. At the end of the parking lot he found a driver who offered an honest price for the distance of 2km. Still very vigilant Kyle chose the cheaper option of a bicycle rickshaw. When he asked the old man how much he wanted for the trip to a hotel he chose the man yawned and gave a price, if exchanged into American dollars, equalled to less than 50 cents.

On the streets of India one is charged by the energy exists in such compact and snug communities. He saw scabbing houses piled on top of each other. He saw crowds of men with red headbands dancing in tight circles and groups of women zealously praying at a tiny corner temples. He saw endless piles of garbage. He saw what seemed to be the whole population of the world. He was dropped off in the heart of the action, just near the famous Ganges river. There he shared the 2 meter wide alleys with bulls and their feces, motorbikes and bicycles, police officers and automatic weapons, the crazy and the sane, the beautiful and the ugly. He saw dead bodies being carried through the streets as men happily shouted, "Ram Nam Satya Hey!". He watched as dentists pulled teeth. He saw a restaurant, beside a public urinal, beside a man showering, beside a burning fire of garbage, beside an insane man with no pants, beside a sane man with a collared shirt with a cell phone.

He saw all of this and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

He opened his mouth and he tasted the polluted air from the endless traffic jams, the spice of the curry being cured in a pot, he stench of stale piss.

He closed his mouth and he smelt the dead being cremated by the river, the fragrant Indian incents, and the nan bread being cooked on a hot plate.

He smelt this and he plugged his nose. Then he heard.

He heard the constant singing on mantras, the endless honking of horns, and the countless calls to him to buy hash, a post card, or a shirt.

He had a feeling, and as crazy as it might sound, it was genuine happiness.

Oh no India or Ahhh India?

Ah people, You know, I heard so many stories and read so many articles about India that I anticipated hell when I crossed the boarder.

As usual, and I really should have learned by now, one mans experience will never be like another's.

I have been in India for 4 days and let me say, India is AMAZING! I love it.

Too many people told me terror stories, and maybe there is terror to come. I heard about so many people being robbed, and maybe there is robbery to come. I read extensively about how dirty and loud and strange India is, and.....well that is definitely true.

To me, India has been no worse than any other massively populated yet pitifully poor country. And when you think about it, when you hear about all those people who complain about being cheated by Indians, who's really in the wrong? The guy trying to make a living in a poor country, or the backpacker who comes looking for adventure and takes the first offer for something special from someone with a friendly smile?

So when people tell you about the terrible things that happen in India, take it from me, the guy whos been in India for 4 days, dont listen!
Indias great!

7 days of Meditating thoughts

"Meditation is the ending of thoughts. It is only then that there is a different dimension, which is beyond time."

The Rules from the retreat are on the previous post.

I committed to 7 days at the retreat. For the first 4 days I did not speak one word. In total I probably spoke less than 100 sentences. I ate two small meals a day. I was up by 4:00AM and in bed by 9:00 PM every night. I did sitting meditation anywhere from six to 10 hours a day. My shortest session (one session means staying concentrated and not moving) was less than 10 seconds, my longest was 1 hour and 25 minutes.



I'm not too sure if there are words to describe all the things that goes through ones head when one meditates. It was the first time I had ever tried meditating and I had nothing to compare it to. This will probably sound really weird but I will let you know some of the things that happened to me. Some times I did things wrong which lead to self-hypnosis, I think that helps explain a lot of my feelings. Others It was to hard to get concentration and I would give up. And sometimes, I think I did it right.

Anyways here is my experience, maybe you can try it for yourself.

"Meditation is the action of silence."

Its really unbelievable how strong ones mind is. Just try it and you will see. When you are wide awake, sit down, shut your eyes, and watch what happens. Our mind is like a television and sometimes one really has to wonder who is really controlling our thoughts.

"Meditation is freedom from thought".

When I first started I was letting my mind run and having some very interesting 'mind dreams'. I would go on adventures in my mind. I would see and listen to people that I have never in my real life seen or heard before. At this time my breathing was coming in tiny whiffs, I think I was cutting of blood circulation to my whole body which causes some strange things to happen. Sometime my body would begin to rock or tremble uncontrollably. Sometimes I would have huge bursts energy that would make my whole body quiver. Sometimes I would shiver with a cold feeling or would sweat with heat that seemed to overcome me. This was all in the first day.

The 2nd day I was trying to concentrate which can be really boring. I found myself nodding off or just unable to keep concentrating,which would then cause a lot of frustration.

By the 3rd day things memories that I hadn't thought of for years were starting to invade my thoughts and dreams. Memories of people and events of my past would burst through any wall of concentration I had developed. At night I would think of people who I hadn't seen for 15 years. Throughout the day I was consistently in different frames of minds. Sometimes it would change it just minutes. From extremely happy to peaceful to scared to sad to angry to frustrated and then back to happy. I never thought that I was going nuts but a lot of things just came from memories of the past.

On the 4th day I was starting to miss life. I missed smiles and laughter. The only person I had to joke with was myself, and I will say I did crack myself up quiet a few times. I missed socializing with people. I had slept in a bed next to another guy for 4 days and we hadn't said a word to each other. My meditation practice was deepening. I could spend a longer time in deep concentration and although my mind inside was opening up, my life outside felt like it was closing in around me. I started to notice all the nasty steel bars that were on the windows of every room I ate or slept or meditated in. I would look at the huge gate that guarded the compound in envy. I was starting to feel like I was in jail.

On the 5th day I had an amazing experience. A feeling that in my whole life has never occurred. I had been meditating for only 15 minutes when it hit me. To put it in words would be impossible but it was definitely out of body. Not like a meeting with the Divine but just like I was higher than Id ever been at one second, and tinier than Ive ever been at the next.

This inspired my practice and by the 6th day I was doing sitting that lasted longer than an hour.

By the 7th day the end was near and I could feel it. I lost most of my concentrating abilities and started contemplating where I would go next.

"Meditation is really a penetration into the unknown and so the known, the memory, the experience, the knowledge which one has acquired during life must end. "

In the end I made a definite distinction between the self, the mind, and the body. When you spend so much time thinking about it you can really see that there is something else going on our mind, I have yet to conclude exactly what it is.

I am extremely happy that I did the retreat. I don't know if i would do it again, especially with a Burmese temple. I learned a lot about Buddhism. Most importantly that it is just as strict and restricted as other religions I've studied.

If anyone is interested in learning more please check this website

http://www.dharma.org/

Or if you have any questions feel free to ask.

"A mind that is aware, that observes what is in itself is self-understanding, self-knowing."

All of the quotes are by Jiddu Krishnamurti

Rules of the 7 Day Meditation retreat

I had heard a lot about meditation before, but as many of you, had no idea what it really meant. I had heard of these retreats called 'Vipassana retreats'. After a little more explination I decided that I'd try it.


So off I went to Lumbini, the birth place of the Buddha. After inquiring I had heard the best place to do it was at the Burmese Vipassana Retreat Center. I arrived in the morning and told the head monk, a German, that I wanted to learn to meditate.





The Rules





Here are the rules of the center


No tobacco, alcohol, or drugs


No lies


No killing of living things (all living things! Including mosquitoes)


No sex


No stealing


No high or luxurious seats or beds


No dancing, singing, listing to music, or wearing of jewelry/make-up


No talking (except to the monk or nun)





The difficult rules





Then came the more difficult ones and more directly related to Burmese Buddhism


No eating of food after 12:00 pm


This meant that we ate two meals a day. One at 6:00 am, and one at 11:00 am.


Be mindful at all times


This is a little more difficult to explain. Being mindful meant that you had to know, and state, what you were doing, at all times. Since life is fast that would be impossible but since life at the center is slow, it could be done. Everything was to be done in slow motion; walking, eating, brushing your teeth, making your bed etc.


And as I said everything was to be labeled.


Here would be a typical morning


(Everything here is said in your head)


You wake up


"Waking up, waking up"


You want to get up


"Getting up, getting up"


You walk to the bathroom


"Lifting, moving, pushing, (first step). Lifting, moving, pushing (step 2) and this continues with every step you take until you get to the bathroom. You can guess what happens there.


So just by acknowledging everything you do, you are forced to do everything slowly.


Next you were meant to always be concentrating and not give into any sensual pleasure. A sensual please can be anything from looking at the beautiful sky to smelling a fragrant flower to listening to a bird sing. If you did slip and looked at the flower you were to state it, "intention to look, looking, looking".





Sitting and Walking Meditation





Since sleep is not a necessity we were asked to sleep at most 6 hours. The day was to be spent meditating. Since one can not sit for so long it was broken into sitting meditation and walking meditation.


The sitting meditation was focused on watching your breathing "Rising, falling" and being aware of what is happening in your body and labeling it "Pricking pain, pricking pain" you were told to not think about the feeling, weather it was good or bad, but just label it and watch it.


Walking meditation was just focused on the sensations of the feet. As I mentioned before, (lifting, moving, pushing,) and only concentrating on this.





The Schedule





So you were supposed to be up 18 hours a day. The wake up' gong' was at 4:00 am. The first hour would be sitting and the next walking meditation until breakfast, then in continues like this until lunch. After lunch it continues until the Dharrma talk, which focuses on Burmese Buddhism. Then the schedule continues until 10:00pm. You are given a half hour break after lunch.

And thats the course

The Murder of a Hitchhiker - A true story

After saying a hard goodbye to good ole' Ryan we went our separate ways. He off to Beijing, me off to Tansen, a village in the mountains.



I was excited to be back on the road. The comfortable bus promised an easy ride. The pure blue sky promised a beautiful day. The friendly man sitting beside me promised good company. Everything was supposed to go great, and everything was going great, until the bus driver told me to get off the bus.



Disaster struck



The driver of the bus explained that the place I wanted to go to was 'that way' and he was going 'this way'. He assured me that their would be another bus going 'that way' soon. Before he finished his next sentence a dump truck pulled up at the intersection. He talked to the driver and before I knew it my bag was being thrown in the back of the dump truck.

"He will take you." He said reassuringly.

I trusted the pleasant man and jumped in the back with 10 peasants. The ride started nice. The back of the truck was big and if you stood up you could see over the walls. With the breeze in my face and the lowering sun magnifying the beauty of the distant mountains I was in paradise. But what I didn't know was someone was watching me, very closely.



I took out my I-pod and put on some mellow music to enhance the ride. As the sun was setting it started to get chilly so I took out one of my sweatshirts to warm up. This is when things started to get ugly.



I noticed that the little mountain girl with the pink dress and brown skin was crying. I struggled to get to her with the truck blasting through the windy mountainous road. I knelled beside her, steadying myself, and offered her another jacket out of my bag, I thought she was cold. She wasn't. She pointed at what I perceived to be a pile of rags but turned out to be an old woman, her grandma. I took a closer look and saw puke everywhere around her. The little girl nudged the old woman but she didn't budge. Again she hit her and again she failed to move. Thinking the worst I went to see if she was still breathing. Just then she got up on one elbow and puked again. I saw the mucus hanging from her parched lips. I stumbled across the truck to get my bottle of water and came back to see her coughing up clumps of blood. No one else seemed to care. I again tried to comfort the girl with a sweat shirt but she wouldn't take it. There was nothing to do but wait.



Fortunately after about 20 minutes we stopped at a mud hut. I saw the the mark of a red cross and it seemed that the grandmother was being taken to the hospital. She got up and waddled off the bus along with all the other peasants except two, the two who had been observing me. They had watched everything I had done.



The driver seeing that everyone had got off the bus started up the truck and took off again. It was just me and two guys in the back of the truck. After some time one of the guys came up to me and asked for money. I saw him collect from the other passengers before and was accustomed to this. Unfortunately I didn't have time to ask for the price before I got on the truck .

"Mona", He stuck out his hand.

"Oh, right, how much?" I asked hoping he would say something reasonable.

"2000"

I broke into laughter. 2000 was a ridiculous amount, something like 30USD. This was just one of those funny Nepali jokes I thought. But when I kept on laughing and saw that he wasn't smiling, I knew that this knew it wasn't going to be a pretty scene. The sun was beginning to set and it would be dark soon. The truck was going at full speed and I hadn't seen any sign of civilisation for miles.

"I don't have 2000! I handed him 40 and turned my back. He muttered something which I couldn't understand and then let it be. 20 minutes later it was dark. I still hadn't seen any kind of lights and it was really starting to get cold. The two guys had been talking for sometime, probably planning my murder I thought.

The guy again crossed to the front of the truck where I was standing and said something. This time I had no clue what said. He then made the sign of music. He wanted to listen to my I-pod.

"No battery...battery no.....music no." I made some stupid gesture to indicate there would be no music.

The other guy came up beside him.

"Cold!" He hugged himself and shivered.

It was cold. What was I supposed to do. They knew I had sweaters, they had seen them. It would be just crude to say no. I gave them the sweaters. They then started pointing at my bag and asking other questions.

The made various gestures; Cell phone, music, money. I denied everything, but they knew.

My mind started racing. No one knew where I was. I didn't even know where I was. I needed to get out. But what was I going to do?

It was pitch dark and I hadn't seen any village for over an hour. I had everything on me. My passport, my money, my credit cards, basically my whole life.

I started going over situations in my mind. There were only two of them and if they did attack me I had attended two classes on kunfu that I could try. I could jump off the truck but we were still going extremely fast and I wasn't sure where I'd go. Its funny the things your mind says when your scared.

Finally all my worst fears came true at once. The truck stopped. All I could see was the black sky. All I could hear was crickets. All I could feel was my heart pounding in my chest.

"This is when it happens." I told myself.

The guy got off while the other standard on guard. After 5 minutes he came back.

" You, come!" He was leading me to my death.

I took my bag with me planning a quick escape if I had the chance. I got off the bus a noticed a small, dimly lit shack. He lead me into small thatched room. Four men sat in the darkness. I took my last breath.

"Be brave!" I told myself.

I walked in the room and one man asked me where I was from. A polite question, I thought, for a bunch of murderers.

"Canada." I replied gloomily.

"Ah, Canada." A different man replied. "Sit down, sit down."

"So where you going?" Asked yet another man.

My heart jumped.

"Tansen, you know Tansen, I want to go to Tansen." I said quickly.

"Of course I know, its my home town, and I will also go there."

"You are a passenger?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes"

"How much are you paying for this trip?

"30 Rupees my friend"

Now realising that the guys in the back were just little bastards I told on him what had happend.

"You know, this guy in the back, he asked me for 2000!"

"2000!" The man burst out laughing. "That's ridiculous!"

He translated to the driver of the truck who in turn called in the guy and asked him if this was true. The scene that followed took all my worries away. When the guy admitted it the driver, who I now took to be his uncle, screamed at him. I watched as the guy trembled and cowered beneath his uncle.

Within minutes we were back on the road. The boys had given me back my clothes. I sat down on the opposite end of the truck. The guys didn't say a word the rest of the ride.



And I live to tell another story.

Pokhara

I guess Pokara is the same as Kathmandu except is has a lake instead of tall buildings, not as many people trying to sell you drugs, north face gear, or silk.
We spent our days riding on motor cycles, walking up mountains, and drinking at Busy Bee.
Not much to report, all is well.