Life in Patan

If you walk south from Kathmandu you reach Patan, the second largest city in the valley and my home for three months. The holy Bagamati river trickles sluggishly between them, clogged with rubbish and emitting a powerful stench of raw sewerage. Children pick their way barefooted across it, seeking out anything that might be recycled. Canvas shelters are home for many that live on the river banks. I am am extremely fortunate to be living in a modern house with five other volunteers (Rod 67, Edward 29, Britta 25, Matthew 19 and Sarah 17). On the roof I hang my washing out to a chorus of high pitched "hellos" from the neighbours children. From here I have a fantastic view of the valley stretching away to the distant mountains and the sun setting behind the hills opposite.

The winter chill has now abated and gone are the nights of sleeping in pyjamas, fleece, hat, sleeping bag, duvet with a hot water bottle to top it off! Getting to sleep can be challenging as Kathmandu has a huge dog population with nocturnal tendencies. When one howls the whole valley starts up and in the wee small hours I long for a shot gun!

Recent disturbances in the Terai (the low-level plains) have had a knock-on effect on life here. Road blocks and violence have prevented fuel tankers from heading North from India. Queues at the petrol stations have been hundreds of cars long and people have been patiently waiting for as long as 36 hours before getting served. Our water supply is not piped but delivered by tankers and of course no fuel equals no water. We've just had ten days without.....thank god for baby wipes! Nepal, despite great potential for hydroelectric power, is almost completely dependant on India for its electricity. Demand outstrips supply so there are daily planned power cuts known as "load-shedding". A couple of weeks ago things were pretty dire with twelve hours of power cuts a day. Still, there's something rather nice about having candle-lit meals and we always have good conversations around the table. The people I live with are a great bunch and we all get along well. We did have some problems for the first month with a very depressed, French, seventy year old lady who spoke very limited English and was rather partial to 1.5litre bottles of whisky. She wasn't well and quickly developed bronchitis, but was as stubborn as a mule and refused to go to the Doctors. I eventually forced her but just as one problem was solved another appeared. She continually fell and finally admitted defeat after badly knocking her knee. She is now, hopefully, safely back in France.