The Bumble in the Jungle

We decided to check out the farm that WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities in Organic Farming) had recommended for us to volunteer at in the Pokhara area.  With a general sense of where we were going we took some buses to Begnas Tal (the lake we had boated across a few days prior).  When we got to the Bazaar we asked the locals if they knew where the town was or if they knew the man we were supposed to meet.  No one had a clue, but that didn’t stop us from confidently striding into the jungle around the lake to find our farm.  As we traversed along a sketchy trail, and almost wound up in the lake a couple times, it became apparent that we were hopelessly lost. Instead of turning back and risking humiliation in front of the fisherman and boatmen who told us not to go that way, we forged on, climbing up the hill.  Eventually we heard voices and saw some women cutting grass that they carry in large bundles back to their homes to feed their animals.  They were slightly shocked to se us but some of them spoke a little English and with our little Nepali we were able to communicate.  We tried to help cut the grass for them but we were so slow and inept that they couldn’t suppress their laughter and didn’t feel we were up to the task. We did get to help carry the bundles on our heads though.

Eli with the pirate look and "asi" in hand

So happy to be cutting grass for goats

Now the women in Nepal are strikingly beautiful. These grass-cutting village people were no exception.  We made our intentions clear by telling them we were looking for wives and Eli pointed out the one he was most interested in: Susma. The phrasebook came in handy as we tried our hands at flirting: "Do you come here often?" "You wanna get out of here?" and "We're together but not married." We were both crushed when the drew their wedding necklaces from their work-tunics and showed us that they were all married already, but Eli remained persistent with Susma whose husband was working in Dubai, and therefore shouldn't really matter. Max made his intentions clear as well by telling them that wanted to buy a goat or as they say bakra.We might not have been fully successful, but we did manage to score some phone numbers and email addresses.

Rasne, Susma, Prito-something, and Eli discussing possible dowries

Baaaahhhhh-kra: 5000 Rupees

As we followed them back to their village suffering through leech bites, they told us the jungle was a very dangerous place for sete (whites), due to the tigers and rhinos that never appeared.  Once we got to their village we were surprised to discover many sete working to build bamboo houses in the village. I turned out that Habitat for Humanity was building 40 houses with 500 volunteers most of them from the US. After repeated marriage proposals, both to women and bakras, and promises of taking them from the jungle to America, the Acclimates left, empty-handed and heartbroken but with an expanded vocabulary (we can now compliment ladies’ umbrellas, apparently a solid pickup line). Also, we later decided that our refusals might have been due in part to the no ram ro (not nice) phone and ringtone of Eli’s recently purchased mobile, an unexpected embarrassment in the jungle, that brought more derisive laughter upon us. Eventually we caught a ride in a truck with a floor covered in liquor bottles, both empty and full, that brought us back to the Bazar. Without wives, goats, good phone, but delighted nonetheless, the Acclimates headed back to Pokhara to indulge in some retail therapy by purchasing the hip t-shirts that the cool young Nepalis wear. Maybe if we don our new Deathnote t-shirts and grab some fancy phones, we can return to the village and finally grab us some of that sweet marriage. Also, we never found the farm.

Eli and Rasne's daughter, Kripa