Vignettes of Nepal: On the Trail - Day 4

The river softly swooshes past the outdoor patio canopy where J. and I sit in Syauli Bazar. It winds its way, carving a path through the lime green agricultural valley. Our legs are tired and our hearts satisfied as we reflect on our day. We are glad, as all travelers are, at the end of the day to have come to a place to lay our heads.

Our lodging is another blue and white teahouse. They are so common along the trail that merely a glimpse of their familiar color scheme brings comfort. I confess that I don't even know the name of this particular one. Of the hospitality that is offered within it, however, now that is something I do know about. Hospitality in Nepal seems like second nature. From the smallest smiles to the effort put into cleaning the guest rooms, it is clear that the people here care.

In this particular teahouse, our room is on the second floor, caddy corner from the toilets (BYOR - bring your own roll) and the hot shower room. It has simply painted walls, an old table, two beds with clean fitted sheets and some warm floral blankets folded neatly on top. We are in a corner room, so there are windows on three sides that are covered with delicate blue and white curtains.  The room is clean and in order. The floor has been well swept and a sign outside requests that guests remove their shoes before entering the room. We collapse on the bed to rest.

Later that night, when we come down to dinner, the proprietors greet us with a smile. We take note of how they are painting the flags of many countries on their outside wall. After that, our guide, R. comes to take our dinner order.  We order piping hot dhaal bhat, the national dish of rice with lentil soup. Everything is prepared fresh here, so there's plenty of time to shoot the breeze. For a while we sit and listen to the other two guests, some German girls in their late 20's, discussing what to order. They send one of the employees back to the kitchen to ask about jam.

Thirty minutes later, R. comes out of the kitchen with our steaming dhaal bhat. Its fragrant curry smell rises up, earthy and savoury. R. and A., our porter, join us with their own heaping plates of dhaal bhat. The four of us laugh and imperfectly chat about their families, about Nepal, about America, about our plans. There is a solidarity born of four days on the trail. It is amazing to me how, even with some language issues, the goodwill and understanding still translate.