Browsed by
Category: travel

View from a Safa Tempo

View from a Safa Tempo

I spent much of today riding in the back of a three-wheeled electric vehicle that somehow, improbably, holds 12 people, not including the driver, a woman named Maya, one of the first female safa tempo drivers in Kathmandu.

Maya has made a living for herself, her children and her extended family by dint of much hard work and personal sacrifice. When she first started driving these vehicles, women were rare behind their wheel … and they were harassed. Now she’s not only become a fixture on her route but has trained other women who drive for a living, too.

When she finished her 12-hour-plus shift, Maya took us to her house and made us a cup of tea. Serving others … again. The view from a safa tempo is almost all she sees. I wish she could see herself as I see her — a model of serving others.

A Walker in the Himalayas

A Walker in the Himalayas

Sunrise in Nagorkot

Today I did what I do so often at home: take off walking to see what I can see. Only today I wasn’t sure where I was going. Oh, I had a basic idea, but it was very basic … and I had no sooner walked down a hill than I realized I would have to walk back up it again.

That’s OK, I told myself. I was using both the up muscles and the down muscles. And it wasn’t that awkward walking through a village where I was so close to one house I could smell the coffee. (Actually it was, so I snapped only one picture there, and very quickly.)

I eventually reached my destination by jumping in a cab with two Russians, only to end up at the same observation tower I had been to before. There I ran into Chinese tourists I’d seen on my second trip down the hill and shared another cab that finally deposited me at Club Himalaya in Nagorkot, where I was meeting a colleague.

Whew! Maybe I should call this a Cabber in the Himalayas.

Buddha’s Birthplace

Buddha’s Birthplace

Today we visited the sacred garden in Lumbini and saw the marker stone that represents the exact place where the Buddha was born. Brickwork around the stone dates back to 300 B.C., which makes it part of the oldest structure in Nepal.

To meditate at Lumbini is to come closer to enlightenment, said our guide, and plenty of people were trying. We, however, were at the tail end of two days of field visits with farmers, fishers, traders and more. I hope we gave the spot the reverence it deserved.

Later, we hopped a flight back to Kathmandu aboard a Buddha Air flight. A funny name for an airline. Patient acceptance? Life is suffering?

Neither one is their motto … but the plane that was supposed to leave at  4:20 left at 7 p.m. instead. And we patiently accepted the delay.

Dry Zone

Dry Zone

This morning we flew to Bhairahawa, near the Indian border, to visit a rice mill, agrovet (seed store) and various vegetable collection centers and farmer’s groups in the region.

 

To reach these places, we traveled some bumpy, rutted, and in some cases unpaved, roads. When I say “we” I mean the convoy of seven SUVs, several of which say “U.S. AID from the American people” — though the words were frequently obscured by the dust we kicked up.

Let’s just say it was wonderful to step into the Buddha Maya Garden Hotel in Lumbini and be greeted with a cool washcloth. They don’t call it the dry zone for nothing!

Swayambhu Temple

Swayambhu Temple

Kathamandu, Nepal, is a town of three million people and no working traffic lights. The valley in which this enchanting town sits fills up with dust and pollution, and the Himalayas (which we saw yesterday from the air) makes sure the exhaust fumes don’t go away.

But none of that matters when you’re at Swayambhu Temple, walking around the stupas and soaking up the atmosphere. The prayer flags are flying, the monkeys are angling for food, and the city is spread out at your feet.

This is an ancient, holy, crazy place — and I can’t wait to see more of it.

Forward-Looking

Forward-Looking

Yesterday we toured a port outside Bangkok where migrant workers can find information and help. Some members of my group climbed aboard this ship to look inside. They found … very many fishermen in a very small space. But all of them were legal (we think).

People who work to end human trafficking are a passionate, patient lot. They know the odds are against them, but foresee a future without modern slavery. And because they are patient they are making progress.

The fisherman’s center we saw today is one sign of that progress. Even something as simple as wireless access can make a difference to someone far from home, someone earning in a week what we spent on lunch.

So for now, though problems may mire us in the present, some of us are looking to the future.

Briefly from Bangkok

Briefly from Bangkok

I have five minutes before starting the official part of my work day here … just time to say I’m on the other side of the world. And though I’ve yet to experience any Bangkok street life, I do have the delightfully different experience of signing in to post the blog this morning on this screen. (See Thai script on the right and left navigation bars.)

Luckily, muscle memory tells me which link to check. My Thai is definitely not up to the task.

Though I can say Sawasdee Ka! Which means something like hello!

Asia Bound

Asia Bound

Tomorrow I leave for Asia: three days in Bangkok and nine in Nepal. My mission: to cover my organization’s board of directors’ trip and do additional reporting on women electric vehicle drivers in Kathmandu. It’s a plum assignment and I’ve been preparing for weeks: getting a visa and antimalarial meds, filling out forms, conducting interviews, writing and editing stories that can be published while I’m gone.

This morning I’m fielding emails from Nepal and making a last-minute schedule change. I’m figuring out how to cram two suitcases worth of clothing and electronics (I’m a human pack animal, ferrying swag and equipment from one continent to another) into one suitcase.
And finally, finally, I’m imagining what these places will be like on the other side of the world, the mountains, the temples, the Buddhist prayer flags waving.
It’s time for another adventure … 
A Walker in Afghanistan

A Walker in Afghanistan

If I lived in a war zone I would probably walk, crunch and use the elliptical. The stress relief would be worth the tedium, or even the danger.  So I get why people wear their fitbits when they’re in harm’s way, especially if they’re gadget geeks who want to measure their workouts.

But I don’t get why they share their data with a fitness sharing app called Strava, which then posted the whereabouts and movements of their customers in a heat map available for all to see. So by clicking on a route called Sniper Alley outside the American base in Kandahar, Afghanistan, you could find the names and hometowns of those who use it. Combine this with some basic Googling and you have a trove of information.

I first read about this oversight yesterday, how it was discovered almost by accident by a college student in Australia. Why didn’t someone realize sooner that this technology could be used to reveal troop movements, the identifies of agents and so much more sensitive information?

Sharing data is a way to personalize technology, to humanize it.  But whatever is shared can be abused.

I hate to admit it, but in a world of smart cars, smart appliances and smart houses … we’re going to have to start reading, really reading, those privacy statements. And companies who collect sensitive data must do a better job of telling us how and when they use it.

Otherwise we may find ourselves walking in Afghanistan — with sniper guns trained on us.

(Photo: Washington Post)

Instagram Takeover!

Instagram Takeover!

My knowledge of technology is not always tip-top, so when I heard that a story I wrote would “take over” the U.S. Agency for International Development’s (USAID) Instagram page this week, I acknowledged the news with an “oh, yeah, that’s great” mentality.

Turns out, this is actually a big deal. USAID’s Instagram account has 87,400 followers. Make that 87,401. (I just joined Instagram so I could “love” the post.)

Here’s the human story behind the numbers: I met this woman, interviewed her and her parents, walked the narrow, muddy path along the lake to her home. Her father hacked coconuts for us so we could drink the milk. The family brought out their plastic chairs so we could sit in style. The woman, who I call “Aditi” (but which is not her real name) fell prey to sex traffickers when she was 19. She was rescued before being taken to a brothel in India, but the experience nonetheless changed her life.

Trafficking victims are often shunned by family and friends. But the organization I work for has a project that comforts and counsels and trains trafficking survivors. Aditi is a star student. She has taken the help she’s been given and run with it. Now she’s the one who counsels survivors, the one who tells friends and neighbors how to avoid being trafficked. She’s proof of the great good that can come from small investments. I was privileged to speak with her and her family, to be hosted so hospitably in their home.

I’m now adding an exclamation point to my headline for this post. Make that “Instagram Takeover!”