I have to confess that every time I get on the road I fear for my life…

My first experience was a 30 kilometer ride from Kathmandu to Panauti, a village outside of the valley. Goma’s brother had yellow fever and I was going with her to see him. We took the public bus, fortunately we were the first people on it and we could choose our sit. Other people who come later, may as well go for the whole ride on their foot. I don’t know if it was the best choice we made, we decided to stick by the driver, on the first row. But don’t think it is like on our buses, in Nepal, the first road means literally touching the front window. Goma thought that getting to watch all the countryside during the way was a good idea. I thought so too. I didn’t know what this meant.

The driver gets us safely out from the crowded city and we start crossing the mountains. The thing is that in Nepal there are no rules on the road. It is all about going first. The earlier you arrive, the more passengers you get (and u already know that there is no maximum number of persons in public transport, the more, the better!) On the road, there are no red lights, no white lines, no rules. Everybody uses their horn to let know the other drivers that they are going by, but that is the only sign. Our courageous driver doesn’t look on the opposite side of the road to see who is coming, and just presses the accelerator. Goma starts laughing at my “we are going to dieeee” face. He keeps horning to the bikes that come in front of us, I am thinking “why? why do you horn at them if they are driving on their side of the road? IT IS YOU who drives on the WRONG ONE!!”… My jaws felt the pressure…

After the two hour ride and the 30 km road, we arrived safely to this astonishing place. We are surrounded by rice crops, and a marvellous variety of glowing greens… we are in the country side! no more loud horning, we are out of that cloud of pollution which is Kathmandu valley! just relax and happiness…

The women here start working at 6 am, when the sun is not very hot and harvesting is less hard. Me and Goma go to the fields one hour later (yes! for the sceptics, I am waking up this early in Nepal!) ready to help in the task: separating the left grains of rice from the plants so that the animals can eat the rest of the plant (the actual rice cutting was done a week before, it would have been another amazing experience!). Just let you know that one hour later I had two blisters on my hands, could not work any more and sat down on the shade to take some pictures and admire the strength of these women.

Today, we were on our way to see Dakhinkaly temple and same creepy drive. Going by taxi, which this time meant 6 persons on a micro car, was not a much better experience. Plus at some point, Menuka didi says: “there are many many tigers around in this jungle…” I mean, how can this help my “we are going to die” face? As for the taxi, I don’t know why he plays with our lives that way. It is horrifying to pass another car during a bend, when visibility percentage is about 0. I don’t’ know how, but we arrived safe and sound, walked to the temple, took out our shoes to go inside, made the offerings to god, some flowers as necklaces, lit some candles and burned some incense sticks. I like to think that they might have prayed to god for a safe ride home.

 *inside a temple, barefoot, flowers and red colour waterflow*

I guess I have to start doing yoga and learn how to control my nerves if I want to travel and discover other places in this country…

I just wonder how they pass their driving license here!