Pa and I had planned to visit the tea fields near Bhotechaur, an hour north of Kathmandu. But I woke with intestinal discomfort and informed Sugat we’d have to cancel with Ram. Later though, I was feeling better and Pa agreed that we might visit some place closer to home.
Khokana is a traditional Narwani village 10 km to the south, a reasonable distance given my needs. So Sugat called Ram back and we were on the road to Khokana by ten.
Ram, as noted earlier, is quite trust worthy and knows his way around Kathmandu as well as I know my own neighborhood. Twenty minutes into our journey, however, it was apparent that he’d never been to Khokana. Once, twice, then a third time, he stopped to inquire about its whereabouts. I consulted Google maps as well.
Ten minutes passed and we were close. Another ten minutes and it was just beyond a cluster of buildings we were passing through.
A problem arose, however, when we came upon a truck that blocked our passage. Ram attempted to negotiate,
but to no avail.
Backing up,
we were helped by locals.
Once pointed in the direction from which we‘d come, Ram again inquired about Khokana’s location. A nice fellow pointed straight ahead, then to the left.
Soon we were on a dirt road,
that ended abruptly.
There was no going forward.
Ram preferred to stay with his car, while I set out on foot in search of Khokana.
It was a beautiful walk.
One I would have chosen had I known about it.
But several minutes passed and Khokana was nowhere in sight.
A gate was open just to our right and Pa suggested we ask directions.
Looking around,
a young man appeared, introduced himself as Samiir and asked if I was hungry. Not particularly, but I agreed to see the menu. Fresh fish. It sounded good to both of us.
Samiir came from behind the counter
and gestured that we follow.
Once outside, he pointed into a tank
and I pointed to the largest.
A struggle ensued with Samiir prevailing.
Within minutes lunch was being prepared.
To pass the time, I ordered hookah,
well aware that Pa wouldn’t participate.
As an appetizer, Samiir served a bowl of seasoned corn.
Delicious.
Between puffs of apple and bites of corn, we learned about Samiir. He’s from Bandipur, six hours by bus to the west, depending on road conditions. Pa and I happen to have a 7AM ticket for Bandipur tomorrow.
Back home, Samiir lives with his family, and spends spare time on TikTok. With great pride, he showed us video snippets dancing with his brother,
singing with his sister,
and his brother singing alone.
“He’s very famous on TikTok,” Samiir informed us.
Our meal arrived.
Delicious.
We ate, drank, and puffed until noticing the time. Having promised Ram we’d return by one, we needed to be on our way. After settling up and thanking Samiir, I inquired if he knew of Khokana.
“Of course, it's up there on top of the hill,” pointing to the cluster of buildings we had visited with Ram.
On our way back, lunch was over and work to be done.
One o’clock arrived and Ram was waiting as promised.
Postscript - Khokana.
It’s a lovely village,
sprucing itself up as it awaits word on its UNESCO application.
After our tour we sat, reveling in the day,
and sharing goat stories.
Comments