A Long Night's Journey Into Day

I went to Lumbini this weekend. Ny Nepali teacher suggested that I should take the night bus, as it would be a good experience, I would get some local color, and I would save some money. (Note to self: The next time you see your Nepali teacher, remember to stab him through the heart with a ballpoint pen.)

The night bus leaves from a station in the north of Kathmandu. When I bought my ticket, they told me to hurry, sinc the bus was scheduled for 15 minutes later. This turned out to be optimistic, as the bus only leaves when it's actually full. While Waiting, I met the guy sitting next to me, A, who was a Nepali who works on a cruise liner based out of Singapore.
The bus, when it finally got moving, stopped every hour or so. Hawkers would come on board to sell water or food. At one stop, which A told me was famous for its farms, I bought vegetable (that I still can't identify) which they covered in an interesting chili sauce. It tasted sweet for a second, and then became one of the spiciest things I've ever had. Delicious though.

After 4 hours of this, A said we probably wouldn't be stopping much anymore. I had just drifted off to sleep when the bus stopped. I think I looked confused, because A looked at me and said:
"Did you understand what he [the conductor] said?"
"No."
"A bus in front of us went off the bridge into the river. Everyone is dead. Want to go see?

We left the bus and went up the bridge. Apparently, not everyone had died, because there were people were yelling for help frpm the river. A crowd had gathered, and eventually, the police showed up.
A suggested we get out of the way. We sat in the front room of a lean-to house in the village by the river and waited. A mentioned that he was supposed to have taken that bus.

Of the 60 people on the bus that went over the side, 16 people died (at least, according to the paper today.)

3 hours or so later, the road was cleared and we got moving again. I had almost falled asleep again, when a tire blew out. This time there was no village, so we sat in the moonlight on the road itself until they could fix the tire.

Then some students tried to get on and demand discount tickets (this has been a big issue during the summer transport strikes.) The conductor threw them off, nearly having to fight one of them in the process (the student tried to pull some mace-like product) and basically told them that that particular bandh (strike) doesn't start until next Wednesday, and they should shut up until then.

Finally, I changed buses (12 hours after I'd left Kathmandu.) This bus was a local one, that stopped every hundred feet or so, but took me to the town where you can leave for Lumbini from.

I decided to buy a plane ticket home. The plane takes 40 minutes. One problem: the ticket was ~$100. The guy from Buddha Air asked me if I had the cash with me. Nothing costs that much here (for some frame of reference: the restaurant in my hotel is expensive. The most expensive main course on the menu costs $6. A hand-made suit, at a tailor in the tourist section of town, costs $100.) And my bank card was missing. And my credit card was declined. When I eventually called the bank, after scaring my parents with a late-night call (I know you guys read this, so again, sorry,) they said something about how they had blocked it because of some suspicious charges (i.e. charges made in Nepal.) They eventually authorized the charge.

That said, I finally made it to Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha. As Kichwa Tembo (and, possibly, the Dalai Lama) would say, Lumbini was the balls. Pictures are up here.

And the flight home was easy and quick.