Dhwajabahak on the Road: Rampur-Sundarbazaar-Besisahar-GhaleGaun-Bhujung-Khudi-Besisahar-Sundarbazaar-Rampur

Any time you spend with friends from your wavelength is fun and with them by your side, exploring beautiful landscape, scenery and pristine culture only gets better. That is what I was fortunate to explore recently. I, Prashant Bhandari, along with my friends Bibek Shrestha, Mahesh Jung Karki, Bhakti Regmi, Abhiskar Khatri, Bibek Raj Kunwar, Ashish Adhikari & Kiran Khadka trekked our way to Besisahar-Ghalegaun-Bhujung-Khudi-Besisahar.

Interestingly this was not a planned trip at all, we travelled to Sundarbazaar, Lamjung to attend Welcome Program 2073 of ANNFSU, Lamjung Campus as representatives from ANNFSU, AFU. The program was on 2073/02/09-10,

We reached there at around 1 PM, 2073/02/10(thanks to the ever existing jams at Mugling). We were overwhelmed by the excitement our friends from Lamjung showed to us. The fact that Bibek Shrestha, permanent resident of Sundar Bazaar was also with us helped us get to know boys from lamjung, easily and for myself also it was exciting to meet with my high school friends (currently studying there) Sujan Subedi, Milan, Kiran, Parina. So, we attended the program which by the way was filled with rocking performances and Abhiskar lit fire in the stage with his vocal on songs Guransai Fulyo Banaima, Rato ra Chandra Surya accompanied by Bibek Shrestha, Kiran khadka on the Guitar and Indrajeet on the drums.

This exciting evening was followed by a walk down the Paudi Jholungey-bridge, the sun set seen from there was one of the best I have ever seen. We sat on large stones by the river and out of nowhere Ashish & Bhakti suggested that we trekked to Ghale gaun tomorrow, Bibek said that it would be more fun at Bhujung and within few minutes we were all ready for the trek.

Our friends at Lamjung sponsored the dinner that night, prior and post dinner agriculture students from Rampur, Lamjung & Paklihawa sat at the same table and discussed politics, sports, music, agriculture and many more. Given that IAAS/AFU comprises of students from every region of Nepal, It is fair to assume we had voices from almost all zones of Nepal which is may be why the conversations were hilarious and enriching at the same time.

Sadly on the morning of trekking my dear friends Bibek Dominice & Kiran khadka had minor health issues and had to bow out of the trekking. Wishing them to chill at sundarbazaar, we reached Besisahar at 10 am.

The first half hour was tiring, the stairs were uncomfortably vertical, our stomach not fed and the psyche of having to still walk good 5-6 hours clearly took a toll on us. We quickly reached a gumba, we observed the gumba and the little kids in robe talking in language we didn’t understand. May be they were talking about us, making predictions about us or maybe they couldn’t care less. We breathed a lot better after the gumba and the roads were more horizontal now. It had been more than 30 minutes since we started our journey and we knew we had a couple of Dado to climb, so, we made stop at the first shop we encountered, we bought six noodles for six persons, a bottle of sprite, a bottle of juice and walked. We sat at the base of Dado, below a chautari and had our first meal. The meaningless conversations we had at the base of that tree is perhaps one of the best meaningless conversation I have been part of.  The position of my friends, what they said, the expressions in their faces when they spoke, all has been imprinted vividly.God, that was fun.

Two hours into the trek and the trail only got steeper, the first Dado was supposed to be the tallest and hardest, the top third of that Dado was the hardest bit climbing up. With my body used to riding in bikes in the plains of terai, it was way far from comfort zone of my body.

As soon as we reached the top of first Dado we were greeted by  cool breeze, kissing our faces (haha). It felt like one of those moments you read in books about self-discovery except that all I discovered was I still had two Dado to climb. We rested there for a while, recharging ourselves. I removed my shirt and tried to absorb the breeze I talked about. Bibek, Bhakti, Mahesh, Ashish made calls to family & friends; Abhiskar meanwhile started playing clash of clans.

The following trail was easier and we chatted our way up and down, observing the plants, flowers, trees growing and arguing about their scientific names, family etc. and we couldn’t help but notice the difference in color, texture and structure of soil as we travelled. Within a span of few minutes one would observe completely contrasting soils.

We stopped in a restaurant-shop at a village which seemed to be gurung dominated. We inquired about our road, had tea, lunch and marched on. It was around 2:15 PM and we came across a board which read Ghale gaun-5 Km. We were ecstatic and marched with increased pace; we walked for more than one hour and we were nowhere near any settlement and to our despair another Dado greeted us. With hypothesis on why would somebody lie about the distance we started climbing another, luckily the last we had to climb.

With our water finished and spirit dampened we were walking with baby-steps, luckily we came across a tap, made by some colonel in memory of his late wife. The water was cold, sweet and felt divine. We all read the inscription made and paid our respect to the man & women. We couldn’t help but compare this act with that of Sharjah-who made the famous Taj Mahal in memory of his wife. My contention was the colonel is the better lover of the true, given that he had only one wife unlike Sharjah and probably didn’t cut off hands of the workers who made that tap. :D

The road seemed like it wouldn’t end any sooner, then out of sudden, there it was the board reading welcome to Ghale gaun, the map, and points of attraction. We stopped there and took photos, it took us roughly six hours to get there, which secretly I am proud of.

The village was as beautiful as I had heard. The houses were small, made of woods mostly and the streets in the village were paved with stones. We delightfully strolled, observing the houses, people, small children playing, the road, the plants, the cloud and the Annapurna range in the background. We arrived near an office of Aama Samuha where we were greeted and welcomed by women in cultural dresses and a man, who later turned out to be an active member of local club. They inquired us where we had come from, how long would we stay and other phatic questions. The immediately offered Sel-roti and tea, which by the way was delicious The women seemed to be having lot of fun, they were talking in their own local language and laughing, we didn’t know what they were talking but we knew it was about us. He managed us six in a home stay and were guided to it and informed about the local Ghatu dance that was taking place in the community hall.

The hall was made of concrete, probably with capacity for hundred people and situated on the upper part of village, meaning you could see people arriving and returning clearly. As we entered the hall, without knowing what to expect, were greeted and asked to sit. We saw predominantly women and pondered may be it is celebration just of women but turned out it was not. There was two types of dance going on simultaneously. On the stage, their priest Gurau and his helpers were citing words which seemed very ritualistic. There were three dancers, dressed entirely in their mandated dance cloth, they wore unique crown in their heads and danced in slow motion and in tandem. We were invited to sit in front of Gurau and he was reciting mantras, the three girls put on tika in our foreheads in a ritualistic way. We didn’t know what we should do/say or even what we shouldn’t do/say; then a women instructed us and we followed it, turns out all we had to do was sit, take the blessings, and offer Dakshina to the girls as much as we desired.

On the other hand, dance on the floor was in Nepali bhaka, so we could relate what they were saying. We joined in the dance and danced for some time with the local girls, they were quite shy but not too afraid I must say. They were quiet vocal and sporty to the attempted flirt. We were alert on having fun without causing offence. We were offered tea and juice, we consumed both and that made assimilating to the floor much easier. We returned to our home stay around 8PM.

The dinner that night was lovely, we had the taste of local rice, potato and chicken. We ate like pigs and slept like bears.

We woke around 7 the next morning and we had millet sel-roti and tea for breakfast, the tea had the flavor of local spices, catered to living in the cold. After the fierce tea, we walked to the view tower with intentions of seeing the mountain range and clicking some  pics. Sadly, it was all cloudy and we couldn’t get that clear view. However the village seemed even more beautiful from the top. The hospitality of our hosts made our stay ten times more wonderful.

Around 9 AM we left Ghale gaun for Bhujung. The trek was supposed to take us two hours but we did in one and half hours. Kudos, right? :D

Bhujung was even more densely populated, houses denser and offered hospitality like in Ghale gaun . We struck interesting conversation with the local ladies, some of them didn’t speak Nepali but only their own language, which I am assuming is gurung. But they didn’t have to say a word in Nepali, their face were filled with expressions, anyone, except the mentally cracked, could look at them and understand them without them having to say a word. If there is one thing better than the pure air, lovely climate and scenery of this place, it’s the people in here. All through the journey I repeated, to find job move down, to find love move up.

Time was not on our side, so we had to return quickly; we had good4/5 hours still to walk. So, we left bhujung at2 PM with some wonderful meal in our bellies and wonderful memories in our hearts.

We needed to get back to Khudi by 6 PM to catch the last bus to Besisahar. We were on track for that but then out of sudden rain poured in; we hadn’t carried umbrella or rain coats. We took shelter for some time but we didn’t have much time to lose. So, we decided to walk in the rain. While walking in the rain, with shirts removed in lanes of hills sounds poetic and romantic, the ground reality is bit different; we got leeches in our thighs and legs, some even dropped from trees, the road became slippery, the slope vertical, all adding strain to our already tired legs.

No matter the strain I felt in my body I couldn’t help but notice old men walking in torn clothes, women probably in fifties carrying big load of firewood, children walking back from school, how it must have been like to walk through such paths every day and not complain. At that moment, we had to consider ourselves utterly lucky. 

Luckily, we arrived at Khudi at 6 PM at caught the last bus to Besissahar. From there on we were back on familiar territory.

Only when you have returned from an exciting trip/journey back to your home, everyday life, you relish each moment of that trip.

This has been one of the most exciting three days of my life and I will forever cherish the time spent with my Dhwojabahak boys.

la vie est bell!