Easy of BANG

OK, it's been far too long since the last update here. Let's start 2009 off with a humorous one...

The title on this post is no joke. There is a cleaning fluid with that precise name, and below is an exerpt from some correspondence between two engineers on the use of this fluid for cleaning a machine-hall. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

It all started with a very normal and humdrum request: "I have brought a bottle of Easy of BANG along in order to check whether it works or not for the cleaning of clinic floor. You might have noted the stains on clinic floor looking very ugly. I have tested it today and the result is fantastic. Pls arrange to buy 20 bottles and send at the earliest possible."

On 7th of November this mail came from the same person:
"Cleaning work is in progress. Since the floor was very dirty, cleaner is being consumed quite a lot. I think we need an equal quantity of Easy of BANG again."

This meant that 20 bottles of cleaning -liquid had been consumed in two days of work. Some swift calculations in our maintenance department established that each bottle was enough to clean 1000 sqm of area. Naturally, eyebrows were raised and the level of consumption was questioned. The following reply came back:

"It’s not a surface which you clean by soap-water or some simple cleaners which you mix with water in the proportion of 10ml cleaner: 10L of water. We are talking about the dirt leftover by construction works – its white cement stick to tile and the dirt on the top. My colleague did try many alternative ways to clean it but unable to do so thus dirt remained there for such a long period of time. Recently an Indian in his visit at Kirne suggested us to try with Easy of BANG. I brought one bottle (200ml) along last time and tested in my toilet – it worked and then tested at clinic floor- it worked there as well."

The key here is the last sentence above. I have no idea, and don't want to know, if the home toilet is a good testbench for industrial grime removal. But the fact that this engineer did indeed think it was a good place to test tells me much more than I ever want to know about his toilet...

Images from a few short hikes.

Most people think "hiking" when they think of Nepal. We have started exploring Kathmandu's immediate surroundings a little, and have so far found that the walking is excellent and child-friendly almost wherever we go. In many cases it pays to leave the main track behind:

Surrounded by bamboo-forests, flowers, trees and other greenery, with sunlight dripping through the foliage, the walk becomes more fun for all. As you can see on the pictures, it is steep going at times, but the kids are amazing in dealing with the terrain. Through the trees we can spot prim and well-kept farmhouses, surrounded by land tended to for generations. Terraces are carefully hewn from the hillsides, and elaborate watering systems spread water around.

The kids soon found a good diversion: Some introductory climbing. This was a clay-wall, where there were ample grips and holds so they were scurrying up in a profusion of arms and legs. Callista fell down once (into my waiting arms) and creid her head off. Not because she was scared or hurt, it was because she was angry! Her brother had managed to get up, and she was livid that she couldn't make the same ascent.
I also tried and soon discovered that this wall was child-friendly, but hard for adults to get up. The clay would crumble if too much pressure was applied, so it took quite some time before I found a stable route up the face. While I was struggling, the kids ran down and started all over again... They have a way of making me feel old, bloated and sluggish.

And after the walking, the climbing and the looking at the countryside, we come round a bend and are rewarded with a majestic view:


Little farmhouses dot the landscape, hillsides are dotted with farms and meadows - it's all so idyllic, so basic and achingly beautiful. Above it all, the Himalayas tower in their white-capped silence.

The hilltops are forested, with a relative of the pine populating a certain altitude. It grows some impressively large cones, and when one falls it becomes the ultimate tool for balancing, climbing and playing.

Our experience thus far is simple: It seems that no matter which direction we drive, after 15-20 minutes we can simply park the car and amble along paths. We will be met by smiling villagers and farmers, have a good walk and leave the hustle and bustle of the city far behind. If we bring a picnic, we're all set for a long day outside. If the timing is right, we will be introduced to some new additions to the farm - and the kids love it:

We're pretty happy so far!

I love load-shedding!

What's great about load-shedding and chronic shortage of electricity?

(This is a near carbon-copy of a question a friend of mine posed recently when addressing a university in Shanghai (see the full story here: http://coachbay.com/). On the face of it, the question seems to come from a stand-up comedian or a satirist in the press. But the question is genuine and flips a situation 180 degrees. There is much to be said about asking the right questions, as the questions you ask will guide the direction of your thinking and through that your ability to find one or more solutions. But my friend speaks better of this than I do, and I recommend you peruse the link above.)

We live in Nepal where load-shedding is endemic. We are without power 45 hours per week. The lack of investment in hydropower and the required transmission infrastructure means that demand by far outpaces supply of power. Hence load-shedding.

It is easy to grumble about it, when the lights go out, the wireless router stops working, the TV goes off and so on. So what's great about it?

Well, for a start it keeps certain traditional artisan crafts intact! Only today I discovered a small bakery tucked away from the narrow lanes of Lalitpur. It has lots of wooden benches evidencing years of labour and toil over doughs, spices, fillings and yeast. Dominating the room in a corner is a huge wood-fired oven.

I start talking to the proprietor (a name with a quaint, traditional lilt to it) about this hidden gem. He is happy to meet an interested and engaged customer, and we soon have a good conversation going. With the lack of electricity, the only way he can reliably produce his goods is by sticking to woodfiring. He also finds that wood-fired breads have a subtly different flavour when compared to the breads spewing forth from electrical ovens.

As we talk, he opens the cast-iron door to the massive oven. Inside I see a baking-area of at least 4-5 sqm, and it's festooned with goodies: There are fresh herb-foccaccias, cinnamon rolls, croissants, pain-aux-chocolat, breads - even pizzas. Now, most of you know that I'm a food-addict and I can only say that the flavours wafting forth from this oven were otherworldly. The faint smokiness of a wooden fire, the zesty fragrance of fresh bread baking, the herbs roasting on top of the foccaccias, the trace of cinnamon, the sting of tomato-sauce baking...

For a few moments I was transported back to a time where people knew the person who had made their bread, their sausage, their chairs. A time of craftsmanship, a time of taking pride in what you do and a time where time itself was of less importance. On the spot I was moved back to when I was a young boy of around 11 years of age: My father had found a nearby farm where they still had a traditional wood-fired oven for baking, and he brought me over there as he was making breads the old-fashioned way. The smells, the textures and the taste are still with me today - and it all comes rushing back to me as I stand surrounded by these heavenly aromas.

As I place my order for a croissant and a pain-aux-chocolate, the baker tells me I will have to wait another 2-3 minutes as he can see they are not fully done yet. When did you experience this last? In an age of instant gratification, being asked to wait for a product lovingly prepared and shaped seemed liberating. Exactly 3 minutes later, the baker starts wielding what looks like an oar from a boat. In an elaborate shuffle of baking trays and molds, the ready items are lifted out and placed on the wooden benches around me. My steaming order is wrapped in a little paper and handed to me. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I ask to add a small tomato and olive pizza which had just been taken out.

I return to the office with my treasure in hand and sit down to enjoy what very few can enjoy these days: A genuinely hand-made work of craftsmanship, made by someone who takes pride in his profession. The croissant is crispy, flaky, yet substantive and with that elusive flavour which speaks of just enough butter. The pain-aux-chocolat is evidencing this same flavour, accentuated by molten chocolate in the center. The small pizza has achieved caramelisation of the sauce on the edges, adding a sweetness to the sharp tomato-sauce which was hugely pleasing. In a wood-fired oven, it takes a high level of skill to achieve this without burning the crust.

So one good thing I can say about load-shedding is that it preserves a traditional craft like this. Once electricity is endemic, odds are that the rules of mass-production and economies of scale will take over and the artisan baker will be a part of Nepal's history.

International Folk Music Festival

Yesterday saw the opening of the 25th International Folk Music Festival here in Kathmandu. My employer HPL assists this festival in cooperation with the Royal Norwegian Embassy in Nepal. This year, for the first time ever, the authorities had agreed to open up a part of the Durbar Square compound which is normally off-limits to all except those working on preserving this remarkable location. Here's a video of what it looks like from the inside:



Now, there are representatives from Palestine, South Africa, Malawi and Norway attending this festival. They were all going to give a short demonstration of their skills. Here is one display from a Nepali group of performers:



It somehow fitted the surroundings well to have this display here. Now, I'm not particularly inclined to folk music in any shape or form. I still have to say that hearing a flute being played solo in these surroundings triggered the odd spot of goosebumps on my arms - in fact, it so consumed me that I completely forgot to take any video or picture.

The thought that lingered most in my mind after leaving was not about folk music though. It was about my secondary-school teacher who is still going strong and who has a passion for music in general and folk-music in particular (to the tune of spending months in remote locations in Europe to study and learn more about this particular niche). I'm thinking to organise a "march of dimes" or similar among all his former students to pay for him to partake in the festival next year. That would be a suitable retirement-gift from all those who have benefitted from his dedication to the teaching profession over the years.

A trip to Kirne

I've been to the power-plant for the first time. In my mind, powerplants conjour up images either of smoke-belching coal-fired monstrosities, or massively disruptive projects such as Three Gorges dam in China.

So here is what I found along the Khimti river:
Let's start at the top, where the water flows in. Notice a few things here. First, there is no large dam blocking the flow of the river. There is a small crest (and all the rocks on the lower part of the picture are placed there - they are not naturally there). The intake is under the concrete wall in the centre of the picture. By doing it this way, the river does not die from lack of water and you avoid making large structures across it. I really, really wanted to fish along the concrete wall, as there were some nice ones swimming in the clear waters there! The picture is taken from a bridge, and you can see the bridge clearly in the next picture.


The water coming in carries lots of silt, sand and rocks with it.
These will wear down a turbine very swiftly, so you need to build some pools where the water can "rest" and get rid of most of the sediments. Again, this can be done either with the landscape or against it. Take a look! Here, the pools are lodged between hill and river, not obstructing the natural flow of the water and not forcing people to move away from farmlands or similar. It is very unobtrusive, and I quite like that. There is a tunnel through the hill behind the two small houses you can see here, and this leads down to a mountain-hall containing the turbines. The water-level is not too high as this picture was taken at the end of the wet-season. For the next 4-5 months, water-levels will fall and hopefully pick up again around May next year.

So the water flows through the tunnel, hitting the turbines with a pressure of 60 bar. The aim is to convert this pressure to energy, and to leave just enough energy in the water to let it just clear the turbines and drain away. This pressure increased the water-temperature, so some smart souls have started looking at building fish-farms using the water from the turbines! The temperature is ideal for that, apparently.

The water flows out into this river. This is the Tama Koshi, and upstream of this there will be developments over the next few years. Along this river is a small village called Kirne, and this is where the workers in the plant are settled. Himal Power (my employer) has built a school, a clinic and a small sports-field for the local community. This ensures that there are good education and health-facilities around, and these are an important part of our CSR efforts.


All that aside, it is jawdroppingly beautiful there. Little prosperous homesteads dot the landscape, kids are playing (and they love the instant gratification of a digital camera), and people go about their business.


Note the lightpost behind the kids. The whole area is electrified and does not suffer the loadshedding endemic to the rest of the country. How? The hydro-powered generator used to provide power during construction has been handed over to the local community. With our support and their efforts, 3500 homes have been electrified and another 3500 will be added over the next 12 months. That is making a difference for these villages, and it sets them on the road to a singificant increase in their opportunities and their quality of life. It is hard not to feel inspired by seeing such clear progress on the ground - companies can make a difference for the better.

A hasty retreat

Alas, I have been misled! It turns out that the newspaper report on which I based my musing on the new customs' rules upon entry was written partly in jest. There is apparently no limit on tricycles or used pens, but the limit on 1.15 liters of alcohol (anything stronger than beer) still applies.

With that off my shoulders, let me convey the Sunday-experience:
The family had decided to set forth to Gokarna (http://www.gokarna.com). We have made this trip earlier, and it takes about 20 minutes. The kids can play in the pool, while mum and dad get their golfing more under control at what is surely one of the most scenic driving-ranges anywhere:


This time was different. It was as if traffic was on adrenaline and testosterone combined. Scooters and motorbikes were all over, overtaking and cutting through traffic with scant regard of life and property. After 20 minutes we were not even at the airport. The main culprits in this is not so much traffic - it is the incredibly mismanaged bus-stops.

These are roadside and buses pile up since no bus wants to leave before it's certain that there are really no more passengers to collect. So when bus number 3 in line starts moving back and forth to get out, it will invariably jut into traffic at an acute angle. This will stop traffic from flowing. Of course, being in this position, it has given up its room to move to bus number 4 which has now inched forwards. Also, bus number 2 has not moved, so bus number 3 is not caught and can not move until bus number 2 lurches forwards. In the middle of all this madness, there are hundreds of bikes, scooters, motorcycles and pedestrians making their way in all directions. It is a madhouse, where the biggest vehicle wins. Thankfully, I'm in a Toyota Landcruiser so most traffic parts before me!

Upon getting to Gokarna, 40 minutes behind schedule, bliss set in. The kids hit the pool, we hit the driving range and all to the accompaniment of the sights and sounds of a large and healthy population of monkeys. The kids love'm! After a decent lunch, we made our return which was thankfully a much smoother experience. Thus the days pass...

Where to get the money?

No pictures today, as this is fresh from the press:

The government here has an ambitious and expansive budget for next year, and they expect foreign donors to double their contributions to this budget. That will be a long shot, with the lack of auditability and the haphazard ad hoc grants Nepal showcases so far.

In an effort to strengthen the revenue-base for the government, customs here recently revised the entry-forms for foreigners coming to Nepal. Since they have obviously tired of watching all people arriving hauling stacks of tricycles, arrivals will now only be allowed to bring one. I'm not joking, it's true. Only one tricycle per person. Some bureaucrat deserves an award for coming up with this.

Fishermen are also targetted, so only one rod per person please. And now for the piece de resistance: Only one USED fountain or ball pen per person. Better check if you have a spare pen in the bag somewhere, as it may land you with a hefty fine!

On alcohol, they are remarkably clear: Liquor up to 1.15 liters or 12 cans of beer. There's no mention of wine, but it seems to be OK with 2 bottles. At least I carried that and was waved through. Whether this is from the well-known gweilo/laowei effect is not know.

But why stop here, why not get more creative: "Excuse me, sir, but are you bringing more than one pair of shoes with you? You're going hiking you say? So these boots will be all you need then, sir. Your sandals look nice and are my father's size, thank you. And is that two backpacks you're carrying, sir? What on earth for, sir? You aim to take advantage of our people and use them as porters for the big one while you haul the light one? Sorry, sir, we can not agree to this attitude to the proud people of Nepal. Which one will you keep? The big one? Excellent, my daughter can use a new school-bag and this day-pack looks just the thing! How many pairs of socks do you have, sir? 7? Well you can only wear one pair at a time, with one pair drying - that's why we have the 2-pair limit, sir. Same applies to underwear, sir."

And I thought the US had the award for most inane entry-forms and -processes locked up. This is one area where I'm not happy to see competition. I invite other examples of entry-form madness from my readers!

Let me as a small postcript add that on my entries and exits to and from Nepal, Custom's have been nothing but professional and courteous, so there is evidence that the frontline has more sense than the desk-jockeys.

Newari art

I'm normally not very enthusiastic about non-culinary art. It's simple: I'm not an artsy person (too many black turtle-neck sweatered people uttering how "profound" or "significant" a "piece" is).

I'm also not in agreement with the Lonely Planet brigade of do-goody travellers who insist we always buy nothing but locally produced and sourced handicrafts with no environmental impact and only from locally-run shops (there is a limit to how much handicrafts you can cram into your place, and I'm sure the local economies will be happy to take your moeny also for other goods and services). On that foundation, I'm finding that it is still possible to build a solid appreciation for local skills in many areas.

Where I grew up, wood-carving conjures up images of traditionally painted woodwork desperately trying to regain some of the magic of Viking-age wood-art, often combined with folk-dancing. But what if there is a place where woodwork traditions have been handed down from generation to generation, a place where the woodworking is not merely for useability - but for sheer beauty? That place could very well be here in Nepal, where a minority called Newaris are famed for their wood-carving skills. The two images are from a Hindu-temple under construction nearby. The carvings are fresh and do not suffer when compared to much older specimens. This is the kind of local art I'd be happy to have one or two fantastic pieces (!) of, and finding these are now on my to-do list!

Dashain is here

Religion is so intertwined with everyday life here in Nepal that it is impossible to ignore or neglect. At times it appears that every streetcorner has a small image of a Hindu deity, a minor shrine or a stupa. Some of the most interesting exploring to be done, is to leave the main roads behind and simply dive into the narrow alleys and backyards in different parts of the city. You will be richly rewarded.

With religion being so pervasive, religious festivals will of course be celebrated with great gusto. We are now celebrating Dashain. Yesterday, several goats had their heads not-so-gently removed from their bodies here at the office, and the resulting blood was splashed liberally over cars, offices and so on. This is a blessing, and will help keep the cars accident-free for the next year. If nothing else, the perception among Hindu Nepalis is that this will prevent accidents, and perception is reality as we all know. So who are we to argue or express disbelief?

In addition to the blood, they also festooned the interior of the cars in myriad ways. The steering-wheel, the handbrake, the pedals and the gear-shift had all been ceremoniously decorated - to the point where small garlands had been hung around the pedals. If there is as much as a scratch on "my" car the next year, there will be nothing to do but buy more goats next Dashain!

Is money ever clean?

In Hong Kong, the Chinese renminbi was referred to as "dirty money" after a tabloid asked a lab to do an analysis of bacteria-counts on different currencies and banknotes. The renminbi "won", having by far the highest number of bacteria. (On a side-note, Hong Kong now loves the renminbi since they believe it is what makes their wheels go round these days).

But is renminbi really the dirtiest? For the bacteria-phobes out there (Mr Panama, are you reading this?), I present a choice selection of Nepali banknotes. Pictures fail to convey just how incredibly sticky they are! A colleague today told me of an experiment he did: He on purpose left money in his trousers during washing, and was surprised that is some cases the money had become so slippery as to slide out from the pockets. What kind fat/wax/bacteria/dirt/dust-combination will cause that?

Exodus

Beijing was doing its very best to look appealing on the day I left. The sky was clear in a way only possible if you shut down factories for months and limit traffic severely. Heavy rains, some winds and the onset of autumn also helped. Beijing looked stunning: Mountains filling the horizon to the north and north-west, trees making an extra effort to be green before autumn sinks its teeth into their leaves and strips them bare. If only Beijing could be like this consistently, it might become a more attractive place to live...

I had a brief stop-over in Hong Kong with the family. I love that city! In what other world-class city can you enjoy a lovely beach in the morning, followed by a little al fresco Thai-food, only to head off to the airport shortly after? Having spent a few days visiting good friends, I moved on via Bangkok. The flight to Kathmandu from Bangkok was full, and I guess it's an auspicious sign that the new prime minister of Nepal was on the same plane as I. He came across as a pleasant man, impeccably behaved - as behooves a statesman.

The drawback was of course the complete shutdown of traffic to and from the airport in Kathmandu. So after clearing all hurdles on the way out, including the incessant requests for taking a taxi somewhere, there was no one there to meet me! My roaming SIM-card proved unable to work in Nepal so I was also incommunicado. Great - not! I was surrounded by eager taxi-touts, all clamoring for my business.

What to do? Here's why I love this part of the world: A man asked if I was waiting for someone, and after a little chatting offered me to use his phone. This I did and all logistical problems were clarified and settled. All I had to do was wait. I have waited in many airports after arrival, and never have I received this level of help from an "innocent bystander".

In the meantime, I stood back from the crowd and took in the view. Surely, there is no airport with more majestic surroundings. Kathmandu rests in a valley, and I could see snow-capped peaks in the distance. As a lover of nature, my heart melts when I see this - and it happens to me every time... I'm such a sucker for a little natural grandeur.

I was soon collected and taken to see our temporary home. After that it was office, meet new colleagues and all that. In the evening we had Korean bbq on a rooftop in Tamel, which was extremely nice and it's a place I will definetely revisit. After that, we called it a night and I headed off to Yak&Yeti Hotel where I tossed and turned for hours before sleeping. Those Himalaya-images in my mind were haunting me...