Visiting The Botanical Gardens

This morning was incredibly hot in Kathmandu. For the first time, I was reminded of the weather in Hong Kong (although, there was no humidity…hot and dry). To escape the heat while the hard drives were cloning (cloning or mirroring is a bit-for-bit backup from one hard drive to another. When it finishes, we will have seven computers with identical operating systems, software, settings, drivers, etc), Muni and I drove to the Godavari Botanical Garden outside of Kathmandu, located on the slopes of Mount Phulchowki. The garden was previously known as the Royal Botanical Garden: in fact, on the ticket, “His Majesty’s Government” is scratched out and replaced with “Nepal’s Government”, with “Royal” covered in sharpie. I found this very interesting, as it was a perfect demonstration of the Nepali Government’s constant state of flux.

Once we arrived, we paid the parking fee and ticket price (around $1 USD), and entered the gardens. Immediately there was a huge flash and a crack of thunder, indicating that the storm we had heard rumbling off in the distance was now directly overhead. It was like a classical Hollywood take on weather: right after we heard the thunder, a large sheet of rain swept over the botanical gardens. We ran inside a building called The Orchard Garden and waited for the rain to die down.

That night, Muni was going to be heading to his late uncle’s house to see relatives, and we decided that spending all day inside with rain pitter-pattering the corrugated iron roof wasn’t the most useful of activities. We head back into Kathmandu, stopping at a hotel on the way for lunch. I had my first soda since I got to Kathmandu! I was ready for the authentic Nepalese soda experience, but when it arrived the “Diet Coke” lettering was not in Devanagari but in Arabic…I’d been duped! The hotel also had a flower bed with the Bird of Paradise flower and a great view of a Nepal which was more rural compared to what I’m used to seeing in the city.

Not five minutes after arriving back at Muni’s, the street filled with hundreds of police officers, army men and private security (wearing what appeared to be Group 4 Securicor uniforms) who were not allowing access to the road. I was concerned about the commotion outside: was all of Nepal like this at the moment? Was it just our street? If it was just our street, had they heard about our project and were trying to shut it down? Was I about to get stuck in yet another political protest? I went about my ways for five or ten minutes, but went to ask Muni what was going on when I saw two more pick up trucks with three army men each pull up to the gate to Muni’s place.

Until I can edit and post video, this frame is all I have of the commotion.

Muni clued me in as to what was going on: the Prime Minister of Nepal was outside. You see the orange / red house at the top right of the photo? He was visiting relatives there for a photo-op, and security was tight. For fifteen minutes, there were flashes coming out from inside because of all the pictures they were taking. They probably took at least two hundred in the short time span they were there. I walked down from my room to get a better view, and right as I got to Muni’s window I saw the door slam on the Prime Minister’s white SUV, and they were gone just like that. The security team — from the policemen to the army to the private security — got in their trucks and cars and motorcycles and left just as quickly as they came. With the excitement gone from outside, I went up onto the roof and watched a distant thunderstorm pass. It was so far away that you couldn’t hear it; you could only see the flashes lighting up the night sky.

Click to the see full size 1500x1000 image.

That’s all for now.
Charles