Sauna and Boat

As best I understand it, the water is piped to the house, but the city only sends it for a couple of hours every other morning. When it comes, the Sthapits turn on a pump to take it by a garden hose to the water tanks on the roof. This depends on electricity, and on Saturday the power was off the whole time the water was on. So Saturday and Sunday we were short on water and had to use it conservatively in the house and cut back on laundry. This is not on the tourist itinerary, but it does put things in perspective.

Laundry day

        This morning, Monday, the power was off from 6:00 to 9:00. So the instant it came on, even faster than I could jump up to turn on the coffee maker, Rajya was outside making the connection and getting the pump started, and now, hallelujah, it is flowing. 

Chauteri around a banyan tree in Lakeside

        The weekend’s shortage gave us a splendid opportunity yesterday. We walked to the local gym a block away (not the Louisville YMCA, but it does have a tennis court and exercise floor and some machines), where we met two friends of Rajya’s, and locked ourselves in on the third floor to enjoy the sauna and hot showers for an hour or two. With skin softened, exfoliated, oiled, and refreshed we stood on the balcony to dry our hair in the sun while admiring the mountains. I am sure tourists do sauna, but not in a genuine Nepali gym.   

Rajya, with rower behind her

Then Claire and Rajya and I went to Lakeside, the tourist district where we shopped on Saturday. I took a photo of one of the older chautaris (see yesterday’s post), and then we rented a boat to row (or actually be rowed) around the lake for an hour. We went around the island temple in the middle of the lake and past the “Typical Restaurant” at the bottom of the climb to the Peace Pagoda. It was late afternoon, the paragliders were  jumping off the hills, and as we were returning the birds all appeared—swallows skimming over the water for bugs, ducks and what looked like cormorants flying in formation. Our rower said the migratory ones were coming from Siberia Definitely a tourist activity, but there were more locals out than westerners.

Notice the layers of hills

The island mandir (Hindu temple)

Claire says Nepalis understand "typical" to mean "unique"

Claire Willey Sthapit Onassi

Then we shopped for a gift for Gotham Daai’s baby’s rice-eating celebration on Wednesday. When a baby is six months old there is a huge celebration and they eat rice for the first time. (In the west “bread” is a synonym for food, but here when you inquire about someone’s well-being you ask, “Have you had your rice today?”) We found a nice warm winter jacket that said “The North Face” on the front (which North Face is another question). Rajya picked out two more, and then started the bargaining process. The storekeeper looked a little helpless and said in an aside to me, “There’s not much I can do—she comes in all the time.” We did quite well—less than $10 each. I am sure some tourists try this, but it works better if you have Rajya with you. I always feel bad and want to leave extra tips, pay a little more, etc., but Claire says, “MOM! Don’t drive up the prices!” Okay.

        The shop was beneath Gotham Daai’s restaurant Almond’s, so we stopped and drank coffee and folded napkins with the waiters. Not a tourist activity, but a lot of fun. They gave us some more superb tempura and paneer as take out. Then we stopped in a sandy, dusty district where the butchers are to pick up some meat for Sworupa, and went home to make chapattis, eat dinner, and play cards: Chakacha (almost like Michigan Rummy) and Rajya’s new favorite, “I Doubt It” which Rajya calls “DOUBT!” (I learned it from my mother, but most people know it by a name my mother never uttered, even in extreme circumstances.)