Holidays At Last!

I write this sitting on the balcony of our hotel, the aptly named Splendid View Hotel. I am looking at green tree-covered hills and just beyond them is an enormous, sharp, soaring peak with snow-drifts clinging to its edges. Machupuchhare. Either side are more sharp peaks, the Annapurnas, enormous mountains covered in snow and slowly drifting clouds. The boys’ room has a view of the lake, from which green hills rise sharply.

This is Pokhara. After checking in, Neville and I and Tom went for a walk down the main street. It’s so much cleaner and quieter and has the feel of a beach-side town. After the chaos of Kathmandu and the four weeks of Nepali life and work, I finally felt relief descend. Now I can relax. We’ve done it.

The last week at CBR was probably the most demanding but Svenya and I managed the class ok, kept them occupied with work most of the time and kept at least one pair of pants on Sashank. Sashank is probably about twenty, cross eyed, severely autistic and wears long underwear under his jeans because if he didn’t he’d be sitting there with no pants on at all. As soon as he sits down in his seat he removes his jeans then screws them up and holds on to them making strange and sudden noises.

At lunch-time on Thursday, I said, "Tiffin Sashank," and he immediately stood up and handed his jeans to me so I could help him put them on. So at least he knows to dress decently for meals. After I helped him feed himself and took him back into the classroom I stepped out of the room for a few minutes and when I returned he was sitting there with no pants on. It was only when Svenya and I went to replace his pants that I realised he does also wear undies. Thank God!

Tom helped in the class for two days and he loved to sit with Sashank and play with his cheeks and listen to his noises. Sashank’s favourite noise was putting two fingers up his nose, the other hand over his ear and saying, "Mmmarp, marp marp, marp." Or he would sit quietly then suddenly and very loudly go, "Ho…Ho…" He has thick scars on his hands from biting them and he also does some occasional head banging on his desk. Everyone will be working away and in the background you’ll suddenly hear these noises. No one takes the slightest notice.

On Wednesday after "tiffin" I brought out the Rolke (?) blocks that I bought at the Steiner market before I left. The kids absolutely loved them. And it was amazing to see how different kids wanted to use them. Gyanu sat and arranged her blocks into their colours and layed the groups out in different directions. She then messed them all up with her feet and burst into outrageous laughter—something we’d never heard her do. Reema, who is 37 and has Downe’s, always sits at her desk and just copies stuff over and over whether you give her work or not. She also loved the puzzles, but when she saw the blocks, she pushed back her chair, got down on the floor and began to build a tower. I’d never seen her so engaged and we were amazed that she had the ability to do it. She’s normally so passive, but she was determined to build this tower and glowered at the kids threatening to knock it over, which was unbearably tempting for some. She built it almost as high as herself and was so proud of herself, especially when we took photos of her with it. She then kicked the bottom blocks out to topple it and set about building it again.

On my last day the Bollywood dance teacher was there and I watched again in amazement at how well some of these kids could dance. One older boy, with Downe’s is particularly good and was teaching the others at one point. They always dance to the same two or three songs but there’s one in particular that they play over and over, (so much that the tape seems to be wearing out) so I asked the teacher what it was about. She explained that it was about the village of Ghandruk, near Pokhara, and then explained each of the moves as they did them—all about how the village is like a flower, how the mountains are green, how when the snow melts the river flows down between them and how the Gurung people who live there are very loving and share their love.

On leaving CBR I was given one of the rose candles they make there and a reference. The day before as I was signing out, one of the teachers said, "Rose, after tomorrow, how will we do at CBR?" My reference is written in similar funny English.

Neville and the boys came home with red foreheads after being anointed with tikka and silk scarves for their efforts. (For details please harangue Neville, the slack blogger).

Bidhya cooked us a special dinner on our last night, with chicken curry, lots of vegetables and of course rice. The next afternoon, before we left, we sat and had tea with Bidhya. Khushboo and Prassidha and a guy called Raymond who had stayed with them a year ago as a volunteer. He is in his fifties and comes from California and had the most outrageous and infectious laugh I’ve ever heard. He was so lively it was quite exhausting and the kids especially loved him. When it came time to leave we were farewelled fondly. A wedding was in progress next door with the usual clashing cymbals and brass band as the new bride was welcomed to the house and Suhendra joked that it was our "good luck" music. I think Bidhya loved having the kids there, especially Tom, and seemed quite sad. Prassidha, who is eight and had a great time with Tom had tears in his eyes as the taxi pulled away. Their kids never play with anyone outside of school even though there are children living in the neighbouring houses and their cousins are right next door. All they ever do is watch TV and play on the computer. They never play outside.

So now we are enjoying an actual holiday. We were able to open our curtains this morning and see the mountains painted pink by the rising sun. Thomas vomited after dinner last night but was fine this morning, but Christopher has diarrhoea and so we left him to rest while we went out. He was happily watching TV when we left, but just as we got downstairs the power went out, leaving him with nothing to do, having read all his books. We imagine there was much swearing. (And there goes the power again at 6pm, having only come on again at 5. Groan.)

We walked down to the lake and got a boat to take us out the to "Floating Temple" (on an island) and then across to the other side. Neville wanted to walk up to the Peace Pagoda on the hilltop, an hour’s vertical walk, but the man at our hotel advised him that it was not safe to do so alone, so he had given the idea up and we were just going to stop for some tea at the "Typical Restaurant". But as we sat down three blonde people turned up in a boat and set off up the trail so I told him to chase after them and tag along, which he did. The old lady (yes, old lady) who had rowed us over was very concerned that he was not returning with us and thought we wanted her to row back and get him, for which, naturally, she wanted more money. But we assured her that she didn’t need to do this and he returned later with the blonde people, two Swedes and a Norwegian, in their boat, after a celebratory beer.