From Himalayan Roads: Chapter Nine - Pokhara

Again, I fell victim to the all-too-easy profligacy that comes with an abundance of foamy-topped Americanos and a general, insidious craving for western food. A year in the hinterlands will do that to you. It was not a time for me to prove cultural adeptness; the opportunities for escape into the tourist trap were too many. I failed at being a traveler who slips into culture easily and adapts to the Nepali lifestyle. In truth, in Pokhara I wasn’t even good at being a tourist.

When I first I arrived, I drove straight to the fringes of the city, along the shores of Fewa lake and back onto bad dirt roads. On a tip from hippies in Kathmandu, I thought I could get luxury accommodation cheap in that part of town. I pulled into the first gaudy lodging I could find and asked the price.

“Six thousand rupees a night,” a soft-smiling Briton told me.

I attempted a composed response. “Oh. I was looking more for six hundred.”

“You’ll have to go down the road.”

“Three thousand,” they quoted at the next place.

It wasn’t going well. I found one hovel with a man sitting outside who glowered as I asked the price.

“Seven hundred.”

“I’ll take it,” I said right off the bat, not seeing the room first. I wanted to convince him that I could handle anything. 

He opened the door to what could easily be mistaken as a cell for solitary confinement. Once the cockroaches scattered under the five-foot long bed, I could see that I had been taken in. He should have been paying me to stay there.

That night I went back into the main part of the tourist strip, found a room for five hundred rupees a night that was large, comfortable, had hot water and only one cockroach that I could see. I moved there the next morning.

The scene of foreigners in Pokhara was its own amusing experience, worth a good long sit in a café just to observe the interactions. This is what I did for most of the time, the few days that I stayed in the city. One such interaction stood out as a favorite:

The Reiki Master and the Christian Missionary

“We’re here on a mission,” she said.

Blonde. Slightly less than puritanical dress, low cut at the chest, sleeveless. She looked to be barely twenty.

“A mission to do what?”

“To spread the word of Jesus Christ.”

He looked himself a bit like a pre-Crucifixion Jesus Christ. Straight brown hair almost to the shoulder. Full beard. About the same age as the girl. He smiled at her often and stood close.

“Do you believe in Jesus?”

“No. I’m a Reiki master.”

“Oh wow. A reggae master. That’s cool.”

“No, a Reiki master. Do you know what that is?”

“Sorry, no.”

“I heal people through energy.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“I only believe Jesus has the power to heal others. If you believe in him though, he can transfer that power through someone else. I’ve also done healings.”

“Really? How does that work?”

“Well. It’s hard to explain. What if I show you? Do you mind if I touch your shoulder?” She looked down at the floor and the closed here eyes.

“Dear Lord Jesus. I’m asking You to bless this man and bless his heart and heal him so that he may see the Divine Light. I’m asking that You pour Your grace unto him so that he may be healed and enjoy the fruits of Your blessed Kingdom. Thank you Jesus for heeding my prayers and we will honor You now and forever. Amen.”

She removed her hand from his shoulder and looked at him. He averted his eyes.

“If you believe in Him, you will be healed. We’ve all been witness to it.”

She glanced toward three other girls sitting behind her. One looked dissatisfied, another ignored the conversation and continued to draw in her sketchbook.

“We’ve all experienced the love of Jesus.”

“Well. Yeah. Thanks,” he said, now less enthusiastic than he was at the beginning. “I guess it won’t work if I don’t believe in it though, huh?”

“Well, we’ll just have to see.”

“Right.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ll get going now.”

Perky, she twisted around in a bound and faced her friends, a resplendent smile across her face. The girls continued about their business and the Reiki master left the café, slumping his shoulders, looking a little less powerful.