Singing and swimming in Sondha

We loved Sondha! This was our last stay in a village as the schools are now closed for the monsoon making the way difficult. Well, it was difficult enough as we had traverse the madi nadi river via two bamboo stalks - one trip and your in Pokhara in pieces! I have got quite adept at scrambling over rocks and muddy terrain as well as dodgy bridges but I still can't cope with dal baht in the morning.

Sondha school was washed away by the mighty madi nadi, so Pahar Trust built another one. Once again we found motivated students, lethargic teachers and a school with no resources at all. We pulled out all the stops to inject rockets of enthusiasm into the staff, harness the energy of the children and create materials out of thin air. However, I don't want to paint a bleak picture - yet again we found warmth, people who really looked after us and lots of good humour. One teacher showed us how he directed his enthusiasm when he took to the floor with some exhuberant dancing at the school's singing competition (what a show stopper, and I thought it was supposed to be about the children!).

Tony also engaged in some extra curricular activity, joining the boys who were preparing the rice fields for planting, up at 5am to catch some fish (twice) and swimming at every opportunity. He also joined in the chase to catch the poor cock which would end up in the pot as celebration of our visit and wanted to pluck it too, but our host thought that was taking village life too far. I also went native and tried milking a buffalo ('imagine it's like squeezing out a marigold glove,' said Tony - can't remember the last time I did that,), and I actually managed to do it - but the woman who was with me and the buffalo tired very quickly at my feeble squeezing and with one shove I was ousted out of position. It stank in there anyway.

Bahni and Bai (little sister and brother) - our hosts - were great. We didn't even have to eat dal baht in the morning which was a blessing. They grew all their own food including coffee and Raksi (the local brew) and so it would have been rude not to partake in a bit of Raksi and take a bottle home (watch out for the Nepali night at ours, folks). This family also looked after three girls who came from either very poor families of families with problems. Although Bahni and Bai had little money themselves they looked after the girls without getting any money. The generosity of the village community has really moved us - we'll be looking after all the no-hopers in Merritt Rd when we get back!

As to our living conditions, remember the tap shared by the villagers in Gumlek on the high street? Little did we know what luxury that was. This time we just had a stream running by our place where they did EVERYTHING (including the little boy we lived with poohing in the water just downstream of someone washing their teeth! We didn't drink the water from there but had to go down a treacherous rock face to collect drinking water from a fresh spring. Actually, though, we really enjoyed this aspect of village life and joined in the weekly bath in the big river - cue trying to wash in a raging river while keeping all your clothes on then drying them while wearing them before the afternoon monsoon. The toilet was much the same as Gumlek (couldn't shut the door, next to the buffalo barn etc), but the critters were more varied. Yes, we had big spiders but also huge cockroaches (in our 'room' - tin roof, no windows, mud walls) and snakes!

On our last day they had a big farewell programme (tikka, garlands), then our family decided to dress us us in traditional Gurung outfits. For me this consisted of a lots of skirts held up by a lot of material - very hot, but also very beautiful and Amma even lent me her wonderful necklace. Tony also looked the part - wearing a lunghi, topi and bhangra (see pic). We then danced the night away, while the teachers came and sang songs. We even sang The Fields of Athenry - went down like a lead balloon - I think they were expecting something more upbeat or the Celine Dion song from Titanic which strangely seems to be a big hit with teachers (?).

Our wonderful stay ended with a treacherous bus journey over barely constructed 'roads' at a knife's edge from huge drops in to the river. But the danger was assuaged by the chatter of the locals and the soothing tones of the Nepali singers coming through the airwaves from the bus radio. So we 'sat' back, held onto the rail with both hands to stop us hitting our heads on the seat in front and the music, the chattering and the bumps wash over us as we gazed our last on the majestic himalayas. FAB x