I've arrived!

Jet lag is a cruel beast. I've been in Nepal for two days and fatigue has set in. My body clock has no idea what time it is. I want to sleep at two in the afternoon and wake a 4AM. Actually, that's not much different than my normal insomniac tendencies, but it's 5:30 in the morning now and I'm wide awake. I can see the grey light of morning seeping through the window getting lighter as I write. Car horns are slowly beginning to beep like alarms and the quiet of night it dissipating. What better to do than write an entry...

I saw bodies burning next to a river yesterday. We have a few days in Kathmandu before we head to the clinic and sightseeing is the objective. Andrew, the leader of the group and founder of the Acupuncture Relief Project, is serving as our tour guide. He took us to Pashupatinath Temple. The temple is on the banks of the Bagmati River, which eventually feeds into the Ganges, the holy fiver. Along the river are funeral ghats, platforms where bodies are burned. This is a Hindu temple and according to their belief, reincarnation is constant. The soul lives forever but the body is merely a vessel for this lifetime. Therefore, when one dies the body is nothing and burned the day it dies. Death is as honored, acknowledged and ceremonious as life. When someone in the family dies, a male in the family must light the initial spark of the fire and also must offer a small bone from the departed to the river before the ashes are dumped. Women are not usually present, I was told this was because up until the 70s wives were still burned along side their husbands, whether they wanted to die or not. I'd avoid the ghats too.

On the opposite side of the river were temples devoted to fertility. This speaks to the close relationship Nepal has with life and death. I wish my culture would honor death in a similar manner, then perhaps I wouldn't fear it as much as I do. I feel we avoid the inevitable, hide it and try to pretend it didn't happen. Sometimes funerals feel like just another task to take care of, instead of an honoring of what was lost. Previous to arriving here I decided this trip would be somewhat devoted to understanding my own relationship with death. I don't necessarily fear my own death, I've somehow maintained the ridiculous idea that I'm immortal, which translates to a lack of acknowledgement of my own mortality. Instead I fear the death of loved ones and my inability to deal. My grandmother passed last year, this was the first close relative I've lost, which is rare for someone 30 years old. Since then I've had perhaps an irrational fear of others dying. I'm not ready. I like things as they are. I believe this life isn't all there is and reincarnation is definite, but I do believe the relationship I have with everyone in this lifetime is all there is until the next one. The void left behind when someone is no longer alive feels vast and empty. It's something I cannot control, which means I have no concept of how to handle it. Acceptance and surrender are probably required, but until then I'll fear what will come no matter how prepared I am.

The temple we visited is a pilgrimage site form Hindus and also a world heritage site. We weren't allowed in the larger temple, that is reserved for Hindus only, but the top is gilded in gold and there a jewels inside, which armored guards monitor. Animals are sacrificed, regularly, except cows. We had a local tour guide tell us many things, most of which I cannot regurgitate, so please take a look at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pashupatinath_Temple.

Today we are going to places I visited last time I was in Nepal- the Monkey Temple, AKA the Swayambhunath Temple, and Durbar Square. Feel free to google, because I have no information about them, only pictures from a previous visit.

I've posted pictures on my Facebook page, I am trying to use a tablet while I am here and it's proving a challenge to post photos with this blog, so please look there and friend me if you are not able to see them. https://www.facebook.com/terry.atchley/media_set?set=a.916838551235.1073741829.20402772&type=3

This is it.

I have a favorite movie- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I love it to point of memorizing lines, a habit making it annoying to watch with me. I mention this because there is a moment that truly sealed the deal for me. The general plot, for those who haven't seen it, is the story of a breakup. Joel and Clementine have a tumultuous relationship and after a torrid fight, they break up. Clementine participates in a procedure that erases every memory she has of Joel. Subsequently, Joel finds out what she did and wants the same procedure preformed on him. Long story short, the memories are erased in reverse order form the drunken fight leading to the breakup to the initial meeting. Half way through, Joel trudges through the good and the bad memories. In the end, he no longer wants to erase Clementine even though he is heartbroken the memories are cherished. This is where my favorite part comes into play.

It is the initial moment Joel meets Clementine. In a shift from how the meeting actually occured, the present Clementine tells Joel:

Clementine: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon.
Joel: I know.
Clementine: What do we do?
Joel: Enjoy it.

I say this because- this is it. I'm on my way and not matter what happens, I better enjoy. It'll all be over too soon and I'll be left with memories, photos and possibly a parasite (but let's hope not).

I'm currently flying to L.A. for my first of two layovers. I'll be traveling for almost 24-hours, from Portland to Los Angeles, Seoul and, lastly, Kathmandu. I've spent months preparing for this trip. Trying my best to complete every meticulous detail of every aspect of my life. Six months away is something I never thought twice about. No big deal, catch you on the flip side with awesome stories and pictures most who weren't there will never want to see. But this time is different, more challenging and heart-wrenching. Maybe it's because I've experienced a great deal of loss and transition this year. Maybe it's because I'm getting too damn old to drop everything and leave. Maybe it's because I have many reasons to stay. Either way, I can honestly say I am excited for the experience and terrified of what I am leaving behind. I miss my cat. I miss my boyfriend. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I have missed these things for weeks before I even left. I hope that mitigates the longing while I am away.

I can say I feel lighter now that I am on the plane. If it's not done, it's not getting done. I tried my best to contact everyone so I could to tell them goodbye and if I missed you, I'm sorry. I finally have no distractions. No chances of getting one last little task done. I can devote all my attention to what is ahead of me. Treating patients. Coming up with lesson plans. Trekking. Helping people. Fantasizing about spending my birthday, which is several months away, on a beach or surrounded by monkeys. I'm off, let the adventure begin. This is it! Enjoy!

Nom Nom Nom...

I have only $1,000 left to raise!! Please consider making a donation or spreading the word!! Thanks everyone! 

Donate HERE!
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Acupuncture Relief Project
C/O Terry Atchley
925 NW Hoyt St. #523
Portland, OR 97209


I've been dreaming of food lately. Actually, not only dreaming- I'm becoming a glutton. Yep, that's right, glutton. It's not a nice term, when I hear the word I picture Jabba the Hutt or that dead guy from the movie Seven. Gross. But seriously, I've been imbibing in every single craving. Cheeseburger? Don't mind if I do! Pizza? Hell yeah. Anything fried? Give it to me! I am an eating machine. Mom says I'm storing up, which I can't completely deny. I won't have access to any typical American food in Asia. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'll avoid meat while I'm there (keep reading for an anecdote to further the obvious reasons why meat might be avoided in a hot country without refrigeration). Anyway, after three years of learning all facets of health, including dietary changes, I find myself feeling physically gross and mentally beating myself up for eating poorly. I'm in a downward spiral of deliciously unhealthy food and I can't stop! Surrender is the first step in recovery, therefore, I surrender to the food gods. I will eat what I want for this week, then pull it together, just one more plate of fois gras, I promise. I can quit any time...

Action shot of poopy tail slap.

Post poopy face slap.

Last time I was in Nepal I saw a goat slaughtered. I didn't want to, but it's not something one can look away from once it started. The orphanage had goats, a water buffalo with her baby, and an anorexic looking cow. The water buffalo produced milk and I was able to milk it, once, until her poop covered tail slapped me in the face. Never again. I also had the fortune of seeing the cow artificially inseminated. 


I digress, back to the goat story- I'm not sure why the orphanage had so many goats and while I was there five more goats were born. They were adorable and spastic. I just wanted to cuddle with them as though they were kittens, but goats are not cuddlers and they're bony. For a week, Laxmi, the president of the orphanage, would point to one particular goat and say, "that's the one" and make a motion of slitting her throat. I didn't get it. I also didn't get the point of all the goats. They were herded out each morning to the recently harvested rice paddies and allowed to eat all day. They made a ton of noise, used every inch of the property as a personal toilet and really didn't contribute back. Well, that one poor lil' guy did.

At the end of one of the festivals there is a tradition of slaughtering a castrated male goat. I'm not sure why, but better to appease the gods than leave them angry. It is also one of the only times during the year that people eat meat. It was very ritualized and humane. The goat was honored, thanked and beheaded in one foul swoop. The fur was mostly removed with boiling water and it looked like every single inch of the body was used in a curry dish, with the exception of the legs. The legs were left out in the sun to dry into some type of jerky.

At one point, prior to arriving in Asia, I considered myself a moderately adventurous eater. Well, I'm not. Textures get to me. This dish was particularly chewy and there were bits of meat with skin and fur still on it covered in curry. I couldn't handle it. I felt myself gagging. Not finishing a plate seemed much too rude, especially given the sacred nature of the meal. I ate as much as I could, then tried to pass the rest off to the person I was traveling with. When that didn't fly, I tried in the most stealth manner to dump the rest in the catfish pond behind the squat toilets. Side note, they had a catfish pond. I think the only purpose was to dump certain meat related food scraps. Vegetarian food scraps went to feeding the goats, buffalo and cow. 

The goat slaughter was traumatic and sad. I can't handle meeting my food before I eat it. If someone were to kill and eat me, I certainly wouldn't want to meet them beforehand. The goat curry was served for about three days, none of that time was it refrigerated. It wasn't even cured meat. Just cooked meat, hanging out in a metal bowl with a plate covering it. We ate it. I'm still alive, so I guess it's ok. 

Walking through markets offered another opportunity to see meat in various slaughtered states. Pigs hung ass up draining blood, chickens being de-feathered, goats tied loosely to a pole waiting patiently for their fate. I swear if I didn't love meat so much I'd quit eating it after this experience.  

The typical dish in Nepal is Dal Bhat. Below is something I previously wrote about this meal:

"Everyone in Nepal eats Dal Bhat, which refers to a meal consisting of steamed rice (bhat), a cooked lentil soup (dal) and curried vegetables called Tarkari. This meal is eaten twice a day, generally mid-morning and early evening. The Dal may be cooked with onion, garlic, ginger, chili, tamarind, coriander, garam masala, cumin and/or turmeric. I've also had Dal Bhat with yogurt and some portion of pickled fermented very spicy veggies.

I ate this meal daily at the orphanage and loved it. I craved it for months after returning home, even though I ate it every single day for three months. In cities with a few more food options, the locals would still only order Dal Bhat. Could you imagine choosing to eat the same thing everyday, forever? I feel this speaks to the deliciousness of the meal. 

This is generally eaten with your right hand, as all meals are. Variations of flat breads are an great accompaniment to sop up all the yumminess. Dal Bhat Tarkari is a healthy, versatile meal."  

I still love Dal Bhat and I look forward to eating it again soon. In fact, I loved almost all the food I ate in Nepal. I did start to crave meat while I was there and, oddly enough, yellow mustard. I yearned for yellow mustard, not djion, not spicy, just plain old boring yellow mustard. I wanted to put it on everything, only yellow mustard was not available. I didn't see any type of mustard available anywhere.   I rarely eat mustard at home. I certainly don't crave it. It's not even my favorite condiment. I convinced myself I was clearly malnourished and it was manifesting as an intense mustard craving. To this day, I still believe that even with no evidence to prove it. I wonder what I'll crave this time around.  

There are no chain restaurants in Nepal. I never saw a McDonalds or Starbucks. Hell, there isn't even coffee in Nepal. Ok, that's an exaggeration, there is coffee available in touristy areas, but I hear it's not good. Besides, why waste your time drinking crappy coffee when so many great teas are available. Milk tea was my absolute favorite. It was essentially chai tea brewed in milk with sugar. It was heaven. I drank it every chance I had while away from the orphanage. The orphanage offered us tea each morning, but it was different. Their's was black tea seeped in water with sugar and salt added. It tasted so strange and initially I thought it was gross, then I started to tolerate it more. I never fully loved it and constantly thought about milk tea.

Lastly, I fell in love with lassi. Lassi is a drink made from yogurt, fruit, sugar and water. Now, at the time of ordering the first lassi, when the love affair began, I didn't know they were made using unfiltered water. Had I known this I probably would have avoided them, but the relationship began; I was hooked and I couldn't turn away from the sweet nectar. Mango is the best flavor ever!! I cannot wait to drink those again. 

At the orphanage I filtered every ounce of water I drank. This was such a laborious pain in my ass that I considered not doing it. Just at my weakest moment I'd see a child with explosive diarrhea and reconsider. Touristy places offered filtered water using a ceramic gravity filter and, as I've stated before, I did not get sick while I was there. This time I hope to have the same luck and to maintain my fastidious water drinking habits throughout my Asia travels. SE Asia makes me much more nervous than Nepal when it comes to food and water consumption, but I'm sure I'll have more to say about that while I am there.