Border town.

I know, it’s been a long time since I posted again. It’s amazing how time gets away from me sometimes! I don’t even think I said anything about Nepal yet and we were there for a month – and are now on to Indonesia! Already, when I think back over the past couple months, our time in Nepal seems a bit overshadowed by our experience in India – and the prolonged experience of dealing with Dan’s broken camera. Perhaps this is a reflection of the dynamic between the two countries in a larger sense, too – Nepal trying to find its own way, but having immense political, financial, and social influence from India (and China) to negotiate as well. (This is too much for me to tackle here and I don’t know enough about it.)

We could sense the difference as soon as we walked across the border. The bus dropped us off about 100 meters from the big line, so we walked the last bit – and as we turned into the Nepali immigration office, we felt immediate relief. The guy behind the desk actually smiled at us! Quickly, we learned that we had forgotten to get our Indian visa stamped for exit. The guy at the Indian immigration desk 50 meters away grumbled, “Where are your bags?” as we approached. No smile. We explained our mistake and with a grunt, he stamped us free. We walked into Nepal for the second time and didn’t look back.

Border towns are an interesting phenomenon. No one stays very long, so no one really cares about them. The solid black line on the political map is blurred by the constant flow of people and goods. This transience attracts a breed of man that eludes the legal systems of the countries on both sides of the border. When you’re a tourist crossing the line, you draw the attention of these men.

We needed to find an ATM in order to by bus tickets. Our Indian rupees were almost gone and we let them run out since we were getting started in a new country anyway. We hadn’t really thought about arriving at the border in the heat of mid-day, hauling our packs around, trying to solve the transportation puzzle that defines overland travel, and needing to find money. At least we were two – I stayed at the bus station with the bags and Dan set out to locate those magic little pieces of paper that everyone seemed to want from us.

The bus station was hot, dirty and full of men’s leering eyes (same as India here) – there was something wet running past my foot, a mangy dog passed out behind me, and manic flies everywhere. I had to pee and couldn’t see any sort of public toilet (not unusual in the past 2 ½ months) – and couldn’t leave our packs anyway. I thought of Dave, our friend who was mugged at this crossing – lost his camera, cards, and some money. Time kept passing, my bladder nagged more urgently, and I started to become concerned with the length of time Dan had been gone.

Finally he returned, purchased our tickets, some snacks, and water – and released me to relieve myself. I could tell he was agitated and when I got back from the hole in the ground, he told me why.

Some might wonder why Dan was the one who went to find an ATM – the guy doesn’t have the greatest sense of direction, and we had just arrived in a new, unknown town. He was, however, the bigger and stronger of the two of us – so we figured it was safer for him to wander around. He asked a rickshaw driver where the closest ATM was – unfortunately, the driver couldn’t hear him over the rumbling din of hauling trucks and Dan had to repeat himself – “ATM?!” – even louder.

This attracted the attention of a young man nearby, who immediately came to Dan’s assistance. “ATM, this way,” he said – and started to lead Dan across the street. Now, we had decided to start over in Nepal – forget the mistrust that India had ingrained – our nature is to want to trust people and believe we all look out for each other. So Dan started to follow him, but instinct quickly kicked in and alerted him not to rely on this guy. He ducked into the lobby of a nearby hotel and asked the man at reception. Apparently, the ATMs in town were all in the opposite direction. And in the time it took Dan to communicate with the guy and understand him, the young man had found two friends and was waiting at the door.

Dan walked through the group of three on the way out and let them know he didn’t need their help – yet they continued to follow him. He dodged along the street and behind a line of trucks trying to lose them – but they persisted. He was starting to feel really alarmed – heart racing, temper flaring, heat pressing – and outnumbered. Instinct reached his right hand to his pocket and closed around the handle of his knife. With a quick about face, the blade flipped open and caught the afternoon sun. “What do you want!?!”

Fortunately, the guys were shocked by this gesture and dispersed. Dan continued on his way (via bicycle rickshaw) to four different ATMs before he found one that worked. When he returned to me almost 30 minutes later, his hands were still shaking.

I was in disbelief at first – and heartbroken. The biggest concern was obviously his physical safety – and that threat had been avoided. And it’s not that we would have lost anything – I had everything valuable back at the bus station, and Dan had very few rupees left in his wallet. Psychologically and emotionally, though, we were spent before this most recent test. After it, our resolve was totally exhausted.

The bus arrived twenty minutes later and removed us from the volatility of the ‘border town.’ As India drifted further away behind us, our spirits lifted and our tenacity was restored. We were almost ready for adventure again when the bus dropped us off on a stretch of dark road in the middle of a small, power-less town. A smiling face with inquisitive eyes granted me access to his phone in lantern light and I called the man who was to pick us up. While we waited, three different people offered us help, a ride, and a place to stay if we were abandoned. I don’t think people saw Western tourists very often in this town – we were finally ‘off the beaten track.’
We weren’t abandoned. And in a few minutes of dark, still night, a thread of our faith in humanity was restored by the friendliness of these few people.

** Charlotte – I know this is probably going to worry you quite a bit – please know that we are safe and well and this was an isolated incident! **