"Move over, we need room for one more"

Sorry to disappoint if you are thinking the title means there's a kid on the way or something...

A week ago we spent four days in Pokhara. Pokhara is a major tourist city in Nepal as it provides beautiful and clear views of the Himalayas. Here people can parahawk, trek, boat, and catch a helicopter to try and capture the perfect view of the mountains. Unfortunately, you cannot really see the mountains in the summer and monsoon months as the clouds and haze cover them up. We still caught a few glimpses at times after a rain or early in the morning, but we never could quite capture them on our camera. This is a view from the World Peace Pagoda. The mountains are there, I promise! (I had to do a few color changes in iPhoto so you could see them).

Just a few observations from Pokhara. My intent is not to be offensive; rather, it is to give you some insight on the different cultures we encountered.:

Indian tourists do not have that southern charm. You would not believe the number of times Parker and myself had to move off the sidewalk or jump into a store just to get out of their way. I mean, I have been to India several times and I understand a bit about their culture when it comes to people bumping up against each other and pushing and shoving their way through the crowds, but this was different. There wasn’t a crowd; instead, it was just a group of five or more walking shoulder to shoulder not budging to let one person through. We went to Sarangkot early one morning (4:30 am) to see the sunrise. We got our first row seats, and about twenty minutes later an Indian couple came up and said, “Move over, we need room for one more.” By moving over as they requested, they sat down and partially blocked our view. Holy cow! You could tell it was cultural because after aggravating us they wanted to hold a conversation with us on where we are from, what we are doing, etc. Sometimes it’s hard to be mindful of the culture of others and hold a conversation with someone who just pushed you out of the way, but at the same time you have to. We are the foreigners, and not everyone has the same “acceptable” behaviors as we do.

Chinese tourists take “inside voices” to a whole new level. We laughed and laughed at how loud they could be in even in the restaurants and museums. Regardless, they were having a blast and enjoying taking pictures of the same thing a million times, while also squeezing in a hundred different versions of the same selfie. They also have their own form of bargaining. They bring calculators or iPhones with them and just flash the price at the storeowner. They are very persistent, and usually get a good deal. Hmmm, maybe I should start taking this approach.

Shopping is much more of a hassle. The shop owners were not nearly as friendly as those in Thamel. They would nag you, and say, “Have a look. Looking is free.” So we would walk in, and they were immediately over our shoulder saying, “How much you pay? I give good price. First customer get good price.” Needless to say, they were not “giving good price” and we often left with nothing in our hands. One guy in particular was selling fiddles and drums. He followed us forever nagging Parker (only us, no one else). He even waited for us to get finished with dinner. He kept sneaking up on us out of nowhere when we least expected it. It’s like a shadow, or that nagging kid that always seems to be stepping on your toes.

Beggars are much more prevalent. Being white, the beggars attack you. No matter how cute they are, we know we cannot give them money. One little kiddo, who couldn’t be older than eight, was sitting on the steps of a shop smoking a cigarette. He spotted us, jumped up, and immediately held up some paper in our face asking for money. This happened often, actually. The culture frowns on kids begging for money, and there are even signs stating this. Parents take their kids who appear handicapped and sometimes “frozen” and put a sign in one of their hands asking for money while positioning their other hand palm up and fingers folded over waiting to receive your donation. It’s incredibly sad, and breaks me even more to think about who these kids may work for or how they ended up in the position they are in. But at the same time, I felt there was nothing a little tourist like me could do to help.

Holding a conversation about Jesus is a huge challenge.  This blog is long enough, so this part is to be continued...