The Blur

The following recounts our remaining days in Nepal, after Rebecca’s services.  We were both too dazed and tired after all the emotion to write in the evenings, and the days were less than eventful so we combined it into this long post.

The morning of the 26^th, the day after we had done all the Rebecca related things; we were still a bit of a mess.  The last couple of days had been spent in what can only be described as a blur.  We were so focused on the tasks at hand and the arrangements for them that we didn’t realize how tired we were from the trip, the emotion and everything else and were in need of a day to recover.  We understood that we had not had much rest or any real time to recover from the long journey, so we decided on a down day.  We had nothing planned and would spend the day eating and resting. 

I was in a major funk.  I couldn’t stop crying and was very angry at everyone for no reason at all.  I began to sink into a pit of self pity and began for the first time to think about myself and what lies ahead in my new life without Rebecca.  What I didn’t count on was the guilt I felt.  As the pity party got into full swing, I became angrier and angrier at myself for being so weak.  How dare I feel sorry for myself after what she had endured for all those years?  How could I be so weak after witnessing her display of strength and bravery?  She faced death with more grace and bravery than I can muster facing nothing more than a little loneliness.  What kind of man does that make me?  I couldn't stop the cascade of self loathing and pity.

It began to spiral and I began to look for things to be down on myself about.  I began to think of Rebecca’s mother, Christine, and how I made her cry every time I called her, which made me feel like an asshole.  She is suffering yet I am always looking for her to comfort me.  I began to think of my friends who have traveled to New Hampshire to stay with me so that I wouldn’t be alone and I felt terrible because they have lives and problems of their own.  I thought of Dave and Mark, one leaving a new baby at home and the other a wife pregnant with twins, so that they could babysit me during the week and I felt like a burden.

Most of all, I thought about what to do and where to live and how to start a new life without her and it made me feel hopeless and lost.

Thank God for Shaun.  Without him to sit and cry with, to share stories with and to draw comfort and strength from, I don’t know what I would have done.

We decided to go for a massage. 

During the planning for the trip we were to have taken last October, Rebecca found a charity organization that helps blind young people in Nepal by training them to be masseuses.  It’s called “Seeing Hands” and is located in a small building in the Thamel section of Kathmandu.  Rebecca had told me about the place and said that she wanted to support them while we were there by getting a massage so, Shaun and I knew immediately that we needed to follow her plan.

We made our way there and walked in to be greeted by a young blind person with very good English skills.  A few minutes later, he took us upstairs and got us set up in a room with two massage tables.  Couple’s massage, I guess.  He was joined by a young blind woman and we got started for the 90 minute session.

Now, this is one of those times when two people share an experience but have totally different opinions of it after the fact.  I loved it…Shaun, not so much.

My masseuse was amazing.  She used her seeing hands to locate all my trouble spots and worked them with expert skill, using just the right amount of pressure.  I had slipped in the bathtub the previous evening and was in quite a bit of back pain but she instinctively knew just what I needed.

Shaun’s masseuse, on the other hand, was like a Nepalese torture master and was really getting into Shaun’s tender spots.  From the next table I could hear Shaun making pained noises and grunts, trying his best to let the guy know he was in pain. It didn’t work.  From time to time Shaun would just yell out, “less pressure” and then would again moan in pain.  But, that’s not the worst part.  His masseuse had some kind of allergy fit and was sneezing repeatedly onto Shaun’s back.  Shaun tells me he could feel the spray raining down from everywhere.  The masseuse would then wipe the snot on his hand and go back to the massage.  Deeply scarred, he has already started researching therapists to see upon returning home to Los Angeles.  He says the place should be called “Sneezing Hands.”  Further evidence of his damage happened later that night. I was in awake in bed after Shaun had been taken down by his narcolepsy once again.  He yelled out “Get away Gypsy woman!” I thought he was awake so I asked him what he was talking about.  He shouted again “Back off Gypsy woman! Don’t even come close.”  Coincidence?  I think not.

Once the massages were done, we decided to take a long walk around Thamel and to try to find a terrace restaurant that Rebecca and I had eaten lunch at on our last trip.  This was easier said than done because we didn’t know our way around Thamel, I couldn’t remember the name of the place and we had no idea where we were.  We walked for a long time before finding an area that looked familiar and made our way to Devi’s office to ask if he knew the place.

Devi knew the restaurant I described and joined us to walk over there.  We arrived at “Curry Kitchen” to find that it was still the same place but that it looked a bit different due to some new construction so we grabbed a table on the same terrace that Rebecca and I had and we ordered some beers and food.  Devi did the ordering and it was MOMOs all around.

The MOMO is a traditional Nepalese dumpling.  They are either filled with water buffalo, chicken or veggies.  They are usually served steamed but can also be ordered fried.  We opted for three plates of the steamed chicken MOMOs and some Everest beers. 

We sat there enjoying the food and Devi’s company while watching the day fade into evening.  The streets were filled with young people from all over the world and the hashish dealers were out in force.  It was nice to simply sit, relax and share some time with Devi.  We asked silly questions and he provided answers.  I offered again to pay him for his services and again he refused, insisting that I only pay the costs incurred for the drivers and the offerings at the Temple.  He explained that he was very fond of Rebecca and that they had stayed in contact since our last visit.  She had contacted him over the summer to make arrangements for our return to Nepal and he was looking forward to it because she had written such lovely things about his company on Trip Advisor, which he wanted to thank her for.  He even insisted on paying for the meal.  What a lovely, kind man.

After dinner Devi had his driver take us back to the hotel, (because he wouldn’t even let us take a $5 cab ride), and we hung around the hotel, had a few drinks, ate a very good dinner in the hotel’s restaurant, ROX,  and talked about things that neither of us had ever shared with anyone aside from Rebecca.  After feeling the way I had when the day began, being able to sit with Shaun and share such personal things was incredibley comforting.

By the next day we had run out of things that were planned for this part of the trip.  Shaun pulled out the guide book and found some villages that were close by and were supposed to be rural, lush, green and beautiful.  He had brought a small container of his grandmother’s ashes with him and thought he would leave her someplace beautiful and close to Rebecca.  Devi’s driver and Taranath picked us up at 9:00 AM and off we went.

We went from one ancient village to another.  We would park and walk up and down the hills, exploring the ancient temples and having everything explained by Taranath, who seems to know everything about every temple in Nepal.

One village offered a tour of the Manjushree Cave - “one of the longest caves in South Asia” as their main attraction so we opted for some spelunking.  We walked up the side of the hill to the top and paid the admission and made our way, with a cave guide and a small group of Chinese tourists, down into the gorge to find the cave’s entrance on the cliff face over the river.  The entrance was covered in a steel gate and was locked with a huge padlock.  Our cave guide let us in and we prepared to go subterranean.

Now before we get into our amazing spelunking skills, it must be said that the sacred river that flows through the gorge and past the cave smells like ass.  It may as well be an open sewer line with mist flowing up through the gorge and into the cave opening.  Nothing like getting misted in sacred shit water before entering a dark, damp cave.

With our headlamps on, we followed the guide into the small, confined tunnel.  Normally, I’m used to grand caves which you can walk through standing up.  This was not that tour.  We crawled on our hands and knees into the entrance and followed our guide.  After 20 yards or so, the cave turned to the right and entered a steep slope into another tunnel.  South Asia wasn’t prepared for how amazing our spelunking skills were.  We had opted for the 20 minute tour because we still had several places on our itinerary and needed to make it before the sun went down.  We left, with Shaun’s grandmother in tow, as the sacred river was not an acceptable resting place.

We visited another village and saw their temples before heading to the ancient part of Patan for some lunch.  We found another terrace restaurant that looked good and ordered some beers and MOMOs.  This time, I went veggie and Shaun went chicken, which turned out to be a mistake on his part.  While my veggie MOMOs were very good, his were 50% chicken cartilage, beaks and feet.  Needles to say, these were not his favorite MOMOs.

We walked around Patan briefly but, by this time, we were pretty templed-out so we set off for our final village of the day, Dhapakhel, which Shaun had read was a beautiful, rural, scenic town with a beautiful large lake.  He thought that it would be a perfect place to leave Granny.  It wasn’t.  Note to readers: if it is a sacred lake or river, it is most likely a body of water for dumping trash, doing laundry or raising mosquito larvae.  Nepal is a gorgeous country, but water around Kathmandu is toxic at best.  As Taranath said over and over again throughout the day, “Poor management.”  Needless to say, Granny is still traveling with us.

We were exhausted and decided for another dinner at ROX followed by drinks in the hotel.  That’s when we discovered Bagh Chal.

While sitting there waiting for our drinks, I noticed some sort of board game on a table in the lobby.  It was covered in metal tigers and goats, which intrigued us so we read the instructions.  The basics are that one player controls 4 Tigers while the other commands 20 Goats.  The Tigers try to eat the goats before the goats can encircle the Tigers, trapping them and making then unable to eat the Goats.

Now, I can’t lie.  Shaun’s Bagh Chal skills are formidable.  He won the first game very quickly as the Goats.  I switched to Goats and, with the help of the bartender, won the game.  After that it was pretty much a massacre.  Shaun’s Tigers fed on my Goats at an alarming rate.  The more I drank, the less I could defend my herd.  It was not pretty.

By this time, Shaun’s narcolepsy was starting so we hit the sack.

We had reached our final day in Nepal and had not even made a dent in the lists we had made of gifts we wanted to bring home for the people in our lives.  We also wanted to re-visit the Stupa that Rebecca loved so we walked over to kill those two pigeons with a few thousand Rupees. 

We were both instantly emotional and crying upon stepping into the Stupa because they were playing the chanting music that has now become synonymous with Rebecca.  We walked around and found some amazing things to buy.  We haggled with shopkeepers and felt really good about what we were able to find…..with one exception.

We were looking for Bagh Chal games to bring home and there were none to be found.  It became a mission.  We literally walked from store to store asking each shopkeeper “Bagh Chal?”  None did.  Some would offer advice as to where we could find it but they were all wrong.  As we were asking the 25^th or 30^th shopkeeper if he had it, a young man walked over to Shaun and almost in a whisper said “You looking for Bagh Chal?  I have good Bagh Chal.”  It was like a drug deal.  He had us follow him into a store and out a back door into what appeared to be an apartment building.  We went up some stairs and Shaun and I were certain that he would club us and steal our kidneys.  He opened one of the apartments and we found it filled from end to end with all manner of Nepalese goods.

He reached under a low shelf in the back and there it was….Bagh Chal.  We bought all he had and thanked him before making our way out.  As we navigated the low doorways that led back to the Stupa, our new friend, Milan, would remind us to watch our heads as we went.  Apparently, I am not smart enough to remember a warning issued a mere 10 seconds before hand because no sooner had he said it, I crashed my forehead into the wooden doorway.  It hurt like Hell and I actually saw stars but, aside from a small lump, I seem to be fine.  Wait, who are you?

More beers at the hotel…Blah blah blah….a little more shopping….blah blah blah…..and there was only one thing left to do.  We had to go to Thamel to once again meet Devi, this time to pay him back all the money he had expended on our behalf.  Instead of taking a taxi, we decided to take the hotel shuttle, which turned out to be a taxi.  We were joined on the ride by a woman Rebecca’s age who was in Nepal doing volunteer work but who could no longer take the basic accommodations they had recommended and had transferred to the Hyatt the previous day.

We chatted with Debra on the ride and extended an invitation to her to hang out with us, which she eagerly accepted.  It was nice to have some female company but the truth is that all the conversation was Rebecca this and Rebecca that.  She was very nice and allowed me to babble on and on about how amazing my wife was.

We walked and again found Devi’s office thanks to Shaun’s internal GPS.  I could barely get Devi to accept even the money for his expenses.  He kept saying that he too was grieving for Rebecca and wanted to do a part to help our cause.  I gave him my credit card, he charged me the expenses and that was done.

Before we could leave his office, he insisted that we share a beer.  He sent out one of his guys and before long we were eating MOMOs and drinking Everest Beers at his desk while watching a video of him taking a group to Everest Base Camp.  We stayed there for a long time.  He pulled up our travel blog and was amazed at the things we had done as we were amazed at the things he was doing.  It was nice and there is no way to express our appreciation for his beautiful, unexpected kindness.

We bid Devi farewell, walked the streets of Thamel for another hour and grabbed a cab back to the hotel where we said goodbye to Debra, ate another dinner at ROX, packed our bags and ended our Nepalese adventure.  I actually got a good night’s sleep.  Shaun on the other hand was attacked by the gypsies in his dreams again.

Oh yeah……Devi showed up at the hotel at 6:30 this morning to personally see us off and to drape us in blessed silk good luck scarves.  It’s safe to say we have a real friend in Kathmandu.

Now…..it’s always been our rule that we document here more than just a list of the things we did.  We committed long ago to include our feelings and impressions along with the stories of the places and I believe we have done that up to this point.  However, both Shaun and I are struggling still with our mutual loss and it has been very hard to feel much of anything but that.  Our feelings have been amplified by being in these places that meant so much to someone who we both loved so much.  I continue to be amazed at the similarities between Rebecca and Shaun.  It’s truly uncanny but it provides me with great comfort because there have been times when I almost felt as if she and I were again there together.  What has meant the most to me is being able to fulfill her wishes and to revisit these places with her……in a way.  Rebecca’s connection to Nepal lives on and she lives on there.  I hope to one day return and visit her there again.

We’re off to Bangkok now and will finish what we started by leaving another piece of her in another of her favorite places and we will do it as instructed by the Lama.

 

Comments

[Melanie]

So amazing - your stories and your journey with Rebecca and Shaun. It was nice to hear your humour in this post. Wishing you a peaceful trip to Bangkok.

[Daphne Anthony]

I laughed and I cried......beautiful

[Christine]

I am coming next time!