Trek in Nepal:
We decided to do a 5 day trek. Originally we planned to do just some day hikes and maybe a couple of 2 day treks, but after talking with a young American guy who has been living in Pokhara, we decided it might be feasible. After consulting with a guide we decided on a certain trek, and even decided to hire a guide! We were hesitant to do so at first but the bottom line was that we felt it might be safer if something were to happen with one of the boys – at least we’d have a local who could speak the language . . .
It turned out to be the best decision regarding the trek that we made. Our assigned guide, Dinesh, was a 40 year old father of 4. He was not only a great guide, but had a ready sense of humor and was a great hiking partner for Griffin. Also he insisted on switching packs with me (I resisted, really I did) and since his held little more than a toothbrush, I was also able to take Griff’s pack, and off we went.

Day 1 – Nayapul to Ghandruk: I’m not sure what I was thinking that the mountains would be cool, because certainly this feels more like the tropics. We all sweat out of every pore we own and need to drink buckets of water just to keep going. I noticed that although we were all swimming in our own juices, Dinesh was not only not sweating, but was hardly drinking any water (maybe those two are linked). Many people who passed us going the other way were dressed up in long sleeves and fancy, heavy fabrics, and they too seemed to be unaffected by the temperature.
We hike all day, mostly uphill, but we pass a teahouse every couple of hours and stop a couple of times for hot lemon tea and even have lunch at one of these places. I am immediately regretting that we packed food along with us, as I don’t want to carry anything we don’t need. When we finally arrive in Ghandruk that evening we eat one of the cans of tuna and the rolls. Maybe the packs will be a little lighter tomorrow! We stay in a place called the Trekker’s Inn, which is rustic, but does have showers and American style toilets (yes!) We rinsed out everything we wore and hoped it would be dry by morning.

Day 2 – Lite breakfast – Griff’s stomach is on the iffy side so he eats nothing. Dinesh takes my pack again, so I take his and Griff’s. We hiked hard but quickly and seem to be doing well time wise. We also continue to meet up with the Korean group on the trail. Dinesh knows their guide and it seems, every innkeeper and tea house proprieter! We arrive early in Tadapani and decide to stay rather than pushing on since the view should be spectacular at dawn – as it was in Ghandruk. It’s a very friendly atmosphere – fun to chat with the other travelers, compare stories, routes, water filters . . .
The inn keeper is a very sweet, petite woman – shorter than Griff. She is very kind to the boys and tells me that her daughters go to school in Pokhara – their pictures hang in the dining room. They are beautiful girls and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to have them so far away when they are so young. She struggles so much in a life where there seems to be no respite nor luxuries. And yet she is so sweet and generous and welcomed us to her home. We bid each other a warm, heartfelt goodbye – a bond of motherhood, with me hoping, wishing to come back and see her again.
On to Ghorepani, another uphill trail – maybe 7 hours of walking.

Day 3 – Griff is still not feeling well – his stomach always seems to be upset and he has no appetite. I am concerned about the length of the day and the strenuous nature of the hike, due to Griff’s condition.
The hiking goes ok though. We are going faster than we expected, so we break for an hour at Daligheri Pass which is marked by Prayer flags. We enjoy the view – rhodedendrun trees and clouds drifting by us. The sounds of the birds and the wisps of white floating by makes for a very ethereal atmosphere. The scenery is quite amazing – hills with terraces, small villages and lots of green. The area is beautiful and quiet except for the sounds of nature.
We descend into Ghorepani – the descent is surprisingly difficult for me and I go very slowly. The Koreans pass me and I feel like an old woman as they offer to carry my load and lend me their walking sticks. This descent is a harbinger of things to come.
That night we stay at the Snowland Lodge – the Koreans too as well as several other groups. It makes for a very amiable and lively international group in the dining area – we all chat, play Carom, warm ourselves by the stove. The guides teach the boys how to play Carom and it is a busy table all night. Ghorepani is a fairly big village – it even has a book shop, and all the building have blue roofs.
Everyone goes out together to see the view when the clouds clear – the mountains are truly amazing – I look at them and can’t believe mountains can be so tall. The guides are mostly amused by our awed response to the view. Although they’ve seen it many times they still have an appreciation for it – to celebrate his son’s graduation from HS, Dinesh took his son on a ten day trek in this area.
Everyone tries to go to bed early because they will all get up at 4 am to hike to Poon Hill. I have decided not to do this hike with Griff – he needs rest more than another 3 hours of hiking on day 4 (we already have 7 hours planned). I asked him how he felt about this and he is fine with it, so just M & Q will go off in the dark.
That night Griff has such bad stomach cramps and pains in his chest that I become very concerned. He is up from midnight till 1:30, asking me to take him to the emergency room. He finally falls asleep again and sleeps till almost 7. He seems much better in the morning, but clearly remembers his troubles from the night before.

Day 4 - We have breakfast, but Griff doesn’t eat, then when M & Q have recovered sufficiently from their morning hike, we set off. We are the last to leave the Inn, and I am again concerned about the length and depth of the day’s hike – we are descending almost a mile in altitude.
It proves to be the most demanding day for me. I am using a walking stick, but the constant steep descent takes a toll on my knees. The day is long and arduous, but Griff is hiking with Dinesh, so he is doing well. That night we all take some Ibuprofen and enjoy the chocolate cake for which this Inn is famous.

Day 5 – Tatopani to Beni
Again Griff eats no breakfast. We head out at 7:30. The jeep is meeting us at Beni at 3. My legs are still sore and even the bottoms of my feet hurt. I miss my boots and think of them often. I can’t believe that people are carrying what looks to be far more than they weigh, while also walking in flip flops or even barefoot. Even young people who look like they should be in school are carrying heavy loads and traveling far. Very young children carry even smaller children on their backs. I would not trade lives with anyone here, and for that I feel selfish. Incredibly selfish. I wonder what life holds for many of these people. Probably the most dismal view is the people who sit and crush rocks with a hammer. I can’t imagine a life that held this as one’s only possibility. I think I would jump off a cliff and I wonder what keeps these folks from a similar fate. But in spite of the poverty that is so prevalent here, there is also promise – the young children in their school uniforms going off to school and calling out “Namaste!” And in spite of the incredible challenges here, the people are warm and generous. One of my favorite encounters was when Griff and a similar aged boy passed each other on the path, each headed off to their day’s events, calling out “Namaste” to each other.
We also pass Sadhus – holy men with their faces painted, on their way to Muktinath, a holy temple and pilgrimage destination.
It is good to reach the jeep and return to Pokhara although this was probably the most frightening drive of my life – cliffs, blind corners, incredibly fast speeds. I wasn’t sure if we would just go off the side of the mountain, or take out a pedestrian walking on the edge of the road and cliff. We even pass a bus wreck – the passengers are all sitting in the shade of the bus – shade provided by the diagonal angle of the vehicle (the bus is nose down in a ditch). Somehow, truly by the grace of god, we make it back to the Fish Tail Lodge, and I feel like I have come home.

April 20, 2003 -
After almost 3 months in Christchurch we took leave of the south island to take a gander at its northern mate. According to the legend of Maui and the fish, the north island is the fish Maui caught and the south island is his canoe. Our time in Christchurch has been filled largely with the boy’s school, Discovery 1. The school has been kind of like a second home to us and we were all sad to leave the wonderful people there. It has been an absolutely fantastic experience for the boys, and one that I’m sure they will treasure and remember forever.
After a late drive north to Picton, unfortunately in the dark, we ferried over to Wellington. Following a visit to Te Papa and a brief look around the town, we had a lovely dinner at an Indian restaurant. The next day we came back to Wellington briefly, enough time to catch a sale or two, then headed north to Tongariro.
In Rotorua, my favorite experience was stopping by the historic St. Faith’s Anglican church. It is a Maori church, small and unassuming, but beautifully and ornately decorated with traditional carved figures and weavings as well as stained glass windows. When we arrived there was a service taking place with just a small group of people and two priests. The part we heard was sung in Maori. Both the service and the building seemed like both a blending and a juxtaposition of two very different cultures.
On Wednesday of our trip through the north island we took a detour over to a lovely town called Matamata. A picturesque place with rolling hills, Matamata’s listing in our guidebook is due to its being the home of Hobbiton, from Lord of the Rings. It was a beautiful drive up north to the area, which due to a change in our itinerary will be the furthest north we venture on this NZ journey. The sheep farm at which the scenes of the Shire were filmed was such an incredibly lovely place it was worthy of a visit on its own. I was reluctant to leave the soothing green rolling hills, and felt in awe of the spiritual power of natural places.

April 6, 2003 -
Here we are, near the end of our stay in New Zealand – a time that seemed so distant when we first arrived, yet here it is along with a variety of conflicting emotions. This is the last week of school for the boys and saying goodbyes to new friends will be difficult. At the same time they are still missing their friends back home and wishing they could be back before the end of the school year. If only they knew that life often plays these kinds of tricks on us – not only do we yearn for what we don’t have, we sometimes want things that seem diametrically opposed to each other. I guess that’s what makes The Gift of the Magi a story for all generations.
While I am sad to leave our “home” here, I too am missing my friends and feeling ready to move on to the next chapter of our travels which will be a great adventure and ultimately take us closer to home. So, if you have any spare surgical masks, send them our way and we’ll be off!
As we are winding down, I find myself reflecting on my favorite places, things, events. . . Mark found a list of “must do’s” for a visitor to Canterbury (the region in which we live) and although we had done none of them, neither of us felt we had missed out on the “Canterbury experience.” We’ve had a very enriching experience, here and as odd as it may seem, one of my favorite experiences is working with the children at Discovery 1 (the boy’s school). Certainly not different from what I do in my “real life,”but something that will be a very fond memory of NZ. The people really do make the place.
But certainly the scenery hasn’t been too bad either! Our last trip - to the west coast – was very wet. But being from Oregon we handled it well: We hiked during the day and dried during the night. Didn’t have to worry about sunblock, and we spent lots of time window shopping. The mountains were no more or less awe inspiring than the rainforest. One we viewed in awe from a distance, the other we immersed (literally) ourselves in. I think being wet make us feel one with the rainforest. Take a look at those photos – it really does look like a magical place. I envision fairies coming out at night to harvest the red berries growing in the moss. The place is abundant with all sorts of life – it is the kind of natural place that breathes and even seems to have a soul. Perhaps because water is where we all came from, the rainforest is always producing new life, almost maternal. No wonder we call her mother earth.