The Next Thing (31 January 2010)

“Why do you stay here and live this mean moiling life when a glorious existence is possible for you?  Those same stars twinkle over other fields then these.”  -Mr. Thoreau, coming through again.

After an two days at the consultancy I was certain that I wasn’t going to stay with Orient International.  I was taking a break from the drudgery of writing unsolicited emails to personnel responsible for international programs at randomly chosen American universities, drinking milk-tea with Narayan and discussing life, death and consciousness.  “Knowing that you are going to die is not pessimistic.” Narayan was saying, summarizing our clumsy ESL conversation with startling elegance.  “It is not pessimistic.  It is just knowing the truth. ” I was genuinely starting to like this guy, but then I glanced at my screen and noticed that I had a new email from Pahar Trust.  I opened it, found out my position teaching “out in the hills” was basically confirmed, and proceeded with a twinge of guilt through my half-forgotten end of the existential dialogue with Narayan, having decided to wait until the next day to break the news to him.

The following morning I caught an eight-hour bus ride back to the stunning scenery and expensive dining of Pokhara and rendezvoused with my Pahar Trust contact, a sixty year-old, comparatively wealthy Nepali gentleman named Chandra.   The meeting went smoothly and the work, traveling to remote villages teaching English for the next month, sounded perfect.   After a welcome-to-the-team dinner of Nepali wine and Indian curry, for which my gracious host picked up the tab, I emailed Narayan my apologies and at the same time decided to make a final decision on my exit from Nepal.  

The problem with Nepal, a problem which continues to hold down its world ranking as a jump-off point for the footloose traveler, is that both of its borders are a bit of a hassle to cross by land.  On the north side, China is terrible, requiring that visa applicants be registered with an expensive tour group to enter Tibet by land.  To the south, India’s visa process is slightly time-consuming and expensive in addition to India being bordered by two other visa issues in Pakistan and Bangladesh.    Even if I were to fly to Bangladesh, which is the most painless way to get the visa, I would only run into another similar issue in Myanmar.  I didn’t plan it this way.  I had hoped that all the countries of the world would welcome an American at their borders with flowers and cocktails, at the very most requiring some paperwork and a modest fee.  I really was naïve enough to think I’d be able to cross land-borders all the way to Southeast Asia, breezing through Bangladesh to Myanmar and through Cambodia and Laos onward to Thailand, Vietnam and finally China. As it turns out, I’m going to have to fly to get out of here.   Kunming, China was the cheapest flight at 277 USD, but with the associated visa issues and my pending sojourn into the hinterland to work around, I went with the 317 USD bargain to Bangkok with an eight hour layover in transcendently awful Delhi International Airport thrown in at no extra charge.

Of course 317 USD is a fortune in my world.  My upcoming month of free room and board will partially repair this dent in my balance and I’ve contacted a WWOOF farm in Thailand in hopes that a couple of almost-free weeks there will put my financial house back in order.  For now though I’m not really worried about the money.  I’m just pleased to have a plan, a clear path to the next destination, and an outline for the coming months that suggests the possibility of something new, stars twinkling over different fields.