March 4.
Our first 72 hours in Nepal have been spent in Kathmandu and demand an attempt at description, although words, like photographs, cannot possibly do full justice to the strong, immediate impressions which have been made upon us. 

Our flight from Bangkok was delayed for twelve hours, which added a dimension of the surreal to our 4am arrival in Nepal. Six months in Thailand had taught us to adopt a relaxed, take-it-as-it-comes approach to such unforeseen circumstances, so the day passed easily and without frustration. We dallied for a couple of hours outside the airport terminal in Kathmandu, gently fending off the advances of beseeching taxi-drivers, waiting until the sky began to lighten before calling Shirley, our contact and one of the directors of Shree Mangal Dvip (SMD), the school which we are affiliated with during our time here. Because it was the last day of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, the children were on holiday and special events were taking place in Boudha, the area where the school is located. When we first arrived, Shirley graciously invited us to her home for apple pancakes and an opportunity to spend some time with Karma Chiimi, the little girl we sponsor, and her even littler brother. These two won our hearts from the word go. They played happily together, whispering conspiratorially, and gradually opened up to our presence. Now when they see us they run over and grab a hand and smile – oh, what smiles! See the photo section for more.

Revitalised after our sleepless night by strong coffee, apple pancakes, talk with Shirley and wonder at the children, we ventured down to the school proper, popped in on morning puja (prayers), and began meeting people - lay students and monks, care staff and drivers, senior students and volunteers – all friendly, all welcoming, all of whose names we promptly forgot!. We were given a tour of the school by the young woman going to RCNUWC in August and Johanne, who graduated from the Norway college last year and is helping out here at the moment. In the afternoon we visited the famous stupa in Boudha, which claims to be the largest in the world. Because of the auspicious date, the stupa was adorned with fresh strings of colourful prayer flags and surrounded by the faithful circumambulating the stupa, chanting prayers, turning prayer wheels, burning butter candles and incense, doing full-length prostrations, and otherwise demonstrating their devotion. It was quite a spectacle, deeply moving and stimulating. This first impression has stayed with us every time we return to the stupa, which sits in a square amidst shops selling tangkas (instructional religious paintings, sometimes diagrammatic and sometimes representational), beads, postcards, clothing, religious paraphernalia, and much more, as well as many restaurants with rooftop terraces, a number of which we’ve visited for meals or drinks, especially the delicious milky masala tea, brewed with cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, and other spices. These terraces all look directly onto the stupa; we just returned from supper and a view of the sunset, and tomorrow we’ll start the day out with the same. It’s a fantastic sight, especially when accompanied by the gentle murmur of the chanting and conversation of the circumambulating folk below, the occasional blare of a horn or beat of a drum, the cooing of hundreds of pigeons in the morning, the constant “Om mani padme hum” from a shop selling devotional music. There are no high-rise buildings to be seen, and if the air were clear, we’d be aware that we’re surrounded by mountains. As it is, there hasn’t been any rain since November or earlier (depending on who you talk to), one of the longest dry spells on recent record, and the dusty air obscures the hills almost completely. We look forward to returning to Kathmandu once the rain makes the air more breathable, but even in its present state we find this area enchanting. Everywhere we go we see monks and nuns mingling with each other and with lay people, and everywhere there is colour and movement and prayer and commitment to Buddhism. We’ll be learning a great deal about Tibetan Buddhism in the weeks ahead.

Tomorrow we’re driving up to Namo Buddha, which will probably be our base for the next few months.

March 5 .
Our second night at Namo Buddha, where we have once again enjoyed the last day of Losar! Apparently the length of the celebration/holiday varies from place to place. The young monks were in high spirits throughout the day, laughing and enjoying themselves with the minimal bits of equipment they have. Imagine an impromptu game of cricket…with a bamboo-like tube for a bat and a battered ping pong ball as its cricket equivalent, bowled with great seriousness and all the right moves. A bunch of rubber bands joined together kept a group of young monks amused for ages as they competed to keep it off the ground with their legs and feet – with fast and agile footwork. We wanted to “break the ice” between us visitors and the monks, who accept our presence without hesitation and smile broadly at us, but with whom we had not really mixed, so this afternoon after tea we made a start. I pulled out a pack of cards (unaware that cards are not really allowed!) and taught a group of about 15 how to play 'Crazy 8s', a simple game…and boy, did they play! Once they got the hang of it, there was no stopping them, at least not until we suggested another (non-card) game …and then another. The ice broke – a promising start. In a few days the monastic - as opposed to the scholastic - school resumes, and we wonder whether the tone will change. We still have absolutely no idea what we’ll be doing, and we suspect nobody here has done much thinking about it either, but there doesn’t seem to be a sense of urgency in the air, so we’ll wait and see. The school year is actually over up here on the hill, and all of the young monks who have been at school up here will soon be moving down to Kathmandu to continue their secular education at Shree Mangal Dvip, but the ‘hows’ and ‘whens’ haven’t been determined, from what we can gather. It's in the pipeline.

The journey up to Namo Buddha was interesting in itself. We passed through quite a few army checkpoints, past huge brickworks, and gradually wound our way out of the Kathmandu smog. There’s a pretty good tarmacked road most of the way to N.B., but once we left it, the last few kilometres were brutal. The dirt road we travelled ran perilously close to the edge – not sport for those with vertigo – and reminded us of our journey in Laos, except this was more deeply rutted and vehicle-unfriendly. One of the monks who accompanied us said in the rainy season the road condition improves, but we couldn’t fathom how. You really have to make an effort to reach Namo Buddha. We expected that it would be more accessible, as it is a famous pilgrimage destination, but unless there’s another way in that we know nothing of, this is not the case.

The monastery itself is an impressive complex of buildings both in use and under construction. It’s perched on the crest of a hill with stupendous views in every direction – mountains to the south, snow capped Himalayas to the north and terraced hillsides in every valley on all sides. At the moment they’re building a new prayer hall; medical facilities that will serve the monks and people from the local community, who have no medical resource available at all other than those on offer here; a new school with its playground on the roof; a kitchen/dining room complex, and more, all on a grand scale. We’re living in one of the school buildings, with a classroom next door and monks in rooms elsewhere in the building. As the whole community is built on the side of a hill, there are stairs everywhere - its a complete cardio-vascular workout just walking up and down for meals! (It's 140 steps each way - Edmund's counted!)

March 10
We’ve been in Nepal for just over a week now, and are starting to feel quite at home up here on the hill. It’s raining gently, breaking the monotony of drought that has plagued this area for many months. Every morning the young monks (and those of us in the middle-aged category) carry empty buckets up to the makeshift kitchen where the only active hosepipe lies, and that only works when there’s electricity, i.e. sporadically. It’s been no hardship for us to go without showers; we have enough water for our needs and can buy good, safe bottled water at the monastery canteen. A few days ago Tashi Wangchuk, our “boss”, invited us to go with some of the young monks to the river to bathe. Johanne and I both eagerly accepted the opportunity to accompany the boys, but clean, flowing water was not easy to find! In the end we walked about an hour downhill, and there we witnessed a display of pure joy that rivals any I’ve seen. The boys were ecstatic, doing backflips off rocks into the shallow water, splashing and swimming and floating and playing with complete abandon. It was simply and completely glorious. On the way home (you guessed it: an hour plus of steady uphill!) we all got sweaty and dusty, undermining the effect of the cold river water, but that was fine; the trip had been worth it.

We had a few days of relative idleness before we began contributing anything to the programme here, and in retrospect those days were valuable, as they gave us a chance to grow accustomed to the place, the pace, the Tibetan tea (made with black tea, water, butter and salt! - an acquired taste ... it tastes exactly as you'd expect it to taste), the surroundings, the fact that impressively-sized snakes regularly visit the monastery buildings and will so increasingly as the rain becomes more regular, and much more! Then a couple of days ago we had a “business' meeting with Tashi Wangchuk, as a result of which we are now teaching the young monks conversational English in a morning and afternoon session. We started yesterday, and it’s great to have lessons to plan and, much more importantly, have this time with the students. They are very eager, open to trying new activities, and as they grow used to us, more forward in their communication. In the evening they sometimes have an hour of prayers, sometimes a study hour.... so we’ll also make an effort to be around when they’re at their desks. The facilities are basic and adequate, and it’s a welcome challenge to plan lessons that don’t require resource wastage! The young monks we’re working with will all ultimately be moving down to Kathmandu, probably some time in April, when the new school year begins down there, and they actually need to get into the habit of using their English, as it will be the norm at Shree Mangal Dvip’s main school. As they’re in between terms up here on the hill, this time is being scheduled specially, and while we’re not doing something essential, we hope it will be helpful – and enjoyable – for the kids. They are also having sessions of chanting practice (1.5 hours non-stop!) and Tibetan language.

And now, as we write, the rain has begun, gently. The smells emanating from the earth are sharp and fresh, and we hope there will be enough rain to at least settle some of the dust, which irritates sinuses and respiratory systems alike; many of the young monks have coughs and perpetually runny noses, and we have mildly scratchy throats.

Speaking of runny noses, we have been trying to get out to explore the local area beyond the monastery, and runny noses, poor skin, teeth, hair, and hygiene seem to be the norm for the children in the villages which are within walking distance. Some of the monks have mentioned that the relationship between the monastery and the local people leaves much to be desired, although the monastery buys wood, vegetables, and other necessities from neighbours and does its best to employ local people. To those living around here the monastery must look rich beyond measure. The boys who live here are not rich in a material sense; on the contrary, they have virtually nothing in terms of possessions. However, they have three good meals a day, a safe place to live, and are receiving a decent education, both secular and monastic, and this all counts for a lot.

The food that is produced by the makeshift kitchen mentioned earlier is worth a paragraph of its own. We were told to bring snacks, as there would be a monotony to the meals that would be unsuitable to our western desire for variety. We refrained from stocking up, eager to share in the life of the community here without special perks, but we are still waiting for monotony to hit! The meals have been tasty and healthy, and we are eating extremely well, missing only the succulent fruit of Thailand, and even that is no hardship. Breakfast is usually a large steamed white roll which is eaten dipped in a bean sauce or some sort, with butter tea. Ange is eating everything, having cast aside previous fussiness. As long as it’s vegetarian, it’s fine! And fine it is. Most other meals include rice, some sort of dhal, or lentil mixture, and lots of stewed vegetables. We’re not sure what the nutritional value of the dishes is, but we feel well enough on the diet, and look forward to each meal!

March 12
We've finished our first three and a half days of teaching and now have a day off to reflect and plan - and play: the boys have invited Edmund to participate in an 8am football match tomorrow morning, and Angie has a list of games ready to be tested if any willing guinea pigs materialise. They usually do. Today's new game was 'jacks', a universal pastime that around here is played with stones. The "real thing" drew avid attention, and Ange was impressed by the patience and perseverance of the boys who joined in. They are enthusiastic and energetic, quick to learn and to laugh.

According to our teaching schedule we're teaching the seniors (graduates of classes 3 and 4) for an hour in the morning and the juniors for an hour and a half in the afternoons. We've divided the groups to maximise "air time" for everybody, as it's meant to be a conversation class, and, under Angie's experienced wing, Edmund is happily having his first experience as an ESL teacher. For both of us the experience is made easy by the kids .......they are simply great - shiny, open, polite and keen - and, although quite unaccustomed to being called on to participate as actively as we are asking them to, they're rising to the challenge in no uncertain terms, with some of them showing definite stage potential! The students are polite and respectful; behaviour is not an issue. In the evening they have a one-hour night tuition session during which Ange circulates around the two classrooms where this takes place, and the gentle clambering for attention is constant, so the hour passes in an instant. We don't know how long we'll be running our lessons, but we hope for at least a few weeks! Thrangu Rinpoche, who founded this monastery, will be staying here and offering his annual teaching (in Tibetan) to about 300 of his monks at the end of next week, and we have no idea what this will mean for us or our young students. The new prayer hall, although not yet completed (elaborate wall and ceiling paintings are only half done; decoration of the altars is yet to be started), is being made ready to hold all the visiting monks - bamboo scaffolding has been removed, floors are being washed, windows are being cleaned.

Two days ago it did indeed rain properly, and yesterday was foggy, sealing in the much-needed moisture. Today the clouds and mist rose and we had our first glimpse of the snow-dressed Himalaya. Stunning. Wow. Closer to home, every available surface has been washed clean of months of accumulated dust, and the green freshness and clarity are startling. Yesterday was also quite chilly and damp. When we asked one of the monks what winter was like, he replied, "Like this!" When the sun comes out, the air heats up, but as soon as it sets, the temperature plummets. All of our meals are enjoyed on the roofed terrace near the rooms of the retreatants, and after supper, which is at 6, there's usually quite a nip in the air, so we normally head for our dimly-lit room, where evening reading is virtually impossible even when there is electricity, and play cribbage, a game I've rediscovered and Edmund has learned quickly. (Many thanks to brother Alex for having the foresight to send us the game unbidden!) On nights like tonight, when the next day is a holiday, the young monks gather around a small TV and watch a video, usually something like Harry Potter, Superman, Batman, or Spiderman.

March14
Yesterday was a holiday, a normal day "off" at the monastery, but today was Holi Day, a Hindu festival which we thought wouldn't affect us. We couldn't have been more wrong! We'd been warned not to venture beyond the confines of the monastery, as doing so would ensure that we were liberally sprayed with paint and water, but we had no idea that within the monastic compound we would be far from safe...

The first hint of irregularity occurred between breakfast and lessons, when many of the young monks were chanting "Holi-Day, Holi-Day", at tremendous volume and with great excitement. Then some students didn't attend the first part of morning lesson, but they had been harvesting vegetables, so that was fine. On the way up to lunch we could feel the tension building and the water beginning to spill. We supplied some of the adult monks with water balloons, and they took advantage of their lofty position on the terrace to begin the attacks. After lunch the situation deteriorated gravely and rapidly, and stepping outside anywhere was risky. Angie joined in enthusiastically and was soon soaked through, having delivered a few well (and some not so well) aimed containers of water onto fellow-revellers. The first good shower she'd had since we arrived! When it was time for the afternoon lesson, the warfare showed no signs of abating, and one of the teacher monks confirmed that indeed there was no point having a lesson as the students were wet and dirty and clearly not in studying mode! We retired to hang clothes to dry. It's now 5pm, and when invited to "play Holi" again just now, Ange reluctantly declined, as drying space is at a premium!

But that wasn't the end of our unusual day. Today is the full-moon, an auspicious day in the monastery. We had been invited to join the monks to walk down to the Namo Buddha stupa and circumambulate at 4.30pm as part of the day's ceremonies. (The Namo Buddha stupa is said to contain the remains of a previous incarnation of Buddha, who, in that previous incarnation, sacrificed his body to feed a hungry tigress and her cubs. It is, so we've heard, the 3rd most important Buddhist pilgrimage site in Nepal). However, at 3pm we climbed the stairs for the only non-butter tea that is served in the day, and noticed that the monks were convening on the open terrace near the roofed one where we eat and drink tea. We were invited to join in and so found a place to sit among the gathering monks. The young monks soon arrived, looking as bewildered as we were, and once everyone was settled, we waited...and waited...until teapots had arrived. Then the puja (prayers) got underway. The older monks and 6-month retreatants were seated on carpets with various horns, cymbals, and drums to keep a rhythm at different points in the ceremony, and two large bonfires were constantly fed with generous offerings of tsampa (barley meal), butter biscuits, incense, rice, and other goodies in enormous basins. Bits of cake and water and oil (we think) and other nourishment to satisfy different ghostly appetites were flung about, and the young monks entertained us with their antics. It was all very informal, and their joking about went unadmonished. We saw young monks teasing, poking, throwing, lashing each other with plastic thongs, engaged in personal grooming, including plucking hairs out of a senior monks face while he was engaged in chanting, and generally not showing a great deal of concern for the ritual. Every so often the chanting and musical accompaniment would cease and we'd be served tea and fried doughnuts. Near the end of the proceedings we each had a splash of mango juice (a blessing) put into our right hand to be lapped up, and the remains of a barley cake that had been hurled into the air during the chanting were passed around. The hour and a half that the service lasted passed quickly because there was so much going on and the atmosphere was both serious and playful. When the last handful of rice had been thrown and the last cup of tea had been downed we dispersed. At this point we were told that this puja was replacing the 4.30 one, as an elderly lama who is visiting had asked for this afternoon's gathering to happen. He seemed delighted by the presence of the young monks, dispensed 50 rupee notes to everyone, and was the first to climb up to the roof of the new, still unfinished temple to get a good view of the "action'.....and then to beckon to the young monks, who eagerly joined him.

We ended the day by attending the puja that the young monks do. They are still learning the chants and are supervised by several of the teachers. They may be young, and often playful if not downright rowdy, but when they chanted it was just beautiful. It lasted an hour, we were all cross-legged on cushions on the floor, and for that hour the young ones were so still and focussed and serious .... it was a very good end to the day. (And yes, tea was served at half-time!)

It's really lovely to see the way the young monks behave and to see how their natural boisterous unruliness is accepted with smiles and laughter by the older monks. There are monks here as young as 10 or 11 who have proabaly been sent to the monastery by their families. They don't necessarily have a rock-solid vocation for the monkhood - as in Thailand, the monastery is a safe place where kids can get good meals every day with an impressive Buddhist and secular education. But here there is a joyful acceptance that young kids need to play games, need to have fun and aren't always going to be able to sustain solemnity for the duration of a two-hour ceremony. It seems that they are allowed to grow into the monastic life at their own pace, if they have the inclination. Having said that, they do have a pretty rigorous schedule: at the moment they have 90 minutes scripture memorisation and chanting in the morning, another 30 minutes of prayers in the afternoon with nearly 3 hours of Tibetan and English classes in between - and this isn't yet full term time. They run off the football field after an hour of charging around and moments later are chanting with great gusto in the prayer hall ... they tumble out of the prayer hall sometime later for another release of energy before moving on to the next thing. Some of the kids will find a vocation and will stay as monks, others will probably disrobe after their education has reached a certain point, to go back to help their families in one way or another.

A note on the security situation
If you are hearing any news at all from Nepal it is probably not good. In our mountain fastness we are pretty out of touch with current events even within the country. However we do know that various strikes have been called which seem to have the aim of disrupting economic activity i.e. closing down the roads to motorised transport. This will increase pressure on the government and, by extension, the king. The many monasteries have apparently negotiated a guarantee of non-interference from the Maoists - so we'll be just fine. We will update this website as and when we can. At the moment it looks like we'll have to make a half-days trek down to the nearest town on our next 'off' day where, we've been semi-reliably informed, there is an Internet cafe. Oh! the things we do to stay in touch!
We are happy and thriving - silence or irregular updates only mean we don't have ready access to the Internet.. Keep checking in every now and then.