Some pictures from the boy's (and Ethan's) trip to Ranighat...

Map of Nepal

Recently, the men in the Beine family (plus Ethan) embarked on an exciting journey to the city of Pokhara, which is just a few hours north of Tansen.  Or, as described by Nate, Pokhara is "about 7 barfs away."  The 4 hour drive, which covers nearly 40 miles was fairly uneventful (by Nepali standards; near head-on collisions, waiting for road construction, stopping after a mongoose crosses the road to avoid bad luck, etc. are all typical in Nepal).  In Pokhara we checked into our hotel, from which we had a lovely view of the hotel right next to us, and went for some ice cream.  Not real ice cream of course, but it tasted great after so long without any.

The real reason for our visit to Pokhara was to renew our 3 month tourist visas, but the trip was definitely more of a vacation than anything.  We walked up and down the main street in Lakeside dozens of times, admiring all the trinkets and souvenirs.  There was no shortage of persistent salesmen trying to sell us knives, toys, carvings, clothing, pictures, books, CDs, trekking gear, etc.  For many of us, leaving our wallets in the hotel was not an accident.


Though the excursion to Pokhara was for much more than just visa renewals, the process was actually very interesting.  After arriving at the immigration office, we were ushered into a small room with bench seats from old cars serving as sofas, to wait while the officials exchanged greetings and told stories about their nights.  We were in the room with a lady in hospital scrubs who "works with the FBI" and "preferred not to discuss her occupation."  A man at the office was curious as to why my mom wasn't with us to get her visa renewed.  My dad answered his question by telling him that she works at the Tansen Mission Hospital, and there had been a bus accident the previous day.  He failed to mention that she was not working that week, and I think it helped speed up the whole process.  Eventually all the forms were filled out and we gave them to the officials.  One of the men asked for a large bribe to do his job, and my dad gave him a little bit extra.  When my dad requested a receipt, the man asked how much he should put down.  "The amount I paid," said my dad.  The man gave back the extra money along with our visas and told us to have a nice day.

Phewa Lake, Pokhara

After the visa renewal, we headed out for a day on the lake.  We rented a large paddle boat with a cover for the sun, which disappeared shortly after we left the dock.  We all took turns paddling, and when it was not our turn we would sit and talk, enjoy the scenery, or lay on the deck and soak up the sun when it would come for a few seconds at a time through a break in the clouds.  The only exception was my dad, who spent the whole time fishing.  His efforts yielded one fish, which we took back to Tansen and ate for dinner.  Nate ate the head.

Nate eating the fish head

Freshwater shrimp

We crossed the lake and found a small, secluded cove for swimming and exploring.  We skipped stones and found terrifying creatures, like this freshwater shrimp.

Nate with the fish head

The boating trip was pleasant overall, until the end.  On our way back to the docking area, the winds started to pick up.  At first there was just a little breeze.  Then a large breeze.  Then a wind.  Then a gale.  Eventually it was so strong, I couldn't tell if we were making forward progress or not, even though Ethan and I were pedalling as hard as we possibly could.  Nobody thought to take the sun shelter off the top before fighting the incredible wind storm.  Eventually we made it to the edge of the lake, though nowhere near our intended destination.  We got out of the boat and waded through the mud to the shore.  A Nepali took our boat from there.  That day we learned what not to do when in a paddle boat.

On our third day, we woke up early to get a sunrise view of the mountains from Sarangkot.  After a taxi ride up most of the mountain, we walked for half an hour to the view point.  Along the way we found trash cans (some of the few in Nepal) accompanying signs that prompted us to "safe the naturel for the next."  At one point, a man asked for our tickets.  We were a few minutes ahead of my dad (and the tickets), and the sunrise was approaching fast.  I solved this problem by tagging along with a group of tourists who had tickets and just kind of going with the crowd.  The view of the town and hills was spectacular, especially with the sun coming up, but the mountains weren't very clear.  We saw planes, ultralights, and para-gliders circling above us, usually heading for the lake or the mountains.  That would be a fun activity for next time.

We spent the rest of our time in Pokhara exploring and feasting.  Following are some pictures from the remainder of the trip.

"Pollution Made By Women"

Two Person Public Toilets

More pictures can be found at:   https://picasaweb.google.com/NickBeine/Nepal2012

-Post written by Nick

नमस्ते (Namaste)

Simple fun!

I guess we don't have much in the way of high-tech entertainment here in Tansen, Nepal.  Nonetheless, we find laughter, with something as simple as a water-filled plastic bottle.

Time to blog...

The “men” just left for Pokhara this morning, to renew our visas.  I have stayed behind to do some work and to recover from my recent diarrheal illness.  Now, it seems, I have some time for writing…

My eldest son says that I have been comparing everything to The Hunger Games (a book by Suzanne Collins).  I’m not sure that is true, but I have come to realize something as we have been reading David Watters’ book At the Foot of the Snows.  The condition of humans (one subset cruelly using their power over a majority of others) is not some futuristic possibility.  It is real history in this world; it is real history in Nepal.  Read both books, and see if you don’t find some of Nepal’s former leaders somewhat like President Snow.  Read both books and see if you don’t find Nepal's police force not unlike the “Peacekeepers.”  Okay, there have not been any “Hunger Games” in Nepal, but I understand in Rome, at one time, Christians were fed to the lions for sport.  Ladies and gentlemen, one of these books is fiction; the other is non-fiction.  The real triumph in the non-fiction version is the ability of the oppressed to stand their rightful ground and to respectfully love those who persecuted them.  I know only one way for this to happen; they must have been following a Leader, a Master, who also loved those who persecuted Him.  There is no greater story on earth, and if you are reading this, it is likely that you could read this great story; it’s called the Bible.  I challenge you to read all three: The Hunger Games, At the Foot of the Snows, and the Bible.  If you accept my challenge, please write me and tell me your impressions.

I have been working on the Pediatric Ward lately (which I really like doing).  Still, it is the place of heartbreak for me.  There had been a twin on our ward for about two weeks.  He was delivered at home, along with his other twin who did not make it.  He was brought to the hospital a few days later for “not sucking at the breast.”  He was a little cold and weighed just over 3.5 pounds.  He was not sick, just a little shell-shocked at coming out too early.  We placed a small tube from his mouth to his stomach and began feeding him his mom’s expressed breast milk.  We also started “kangaroo care” which entails binding the naked baby to the mom’s bare chest, so that by skin-to-skin contact, he could be kept warm.  This technique is very simple, very effective, and keeps us from depending upon electricity and faulty incubators to keep newborns warm.  So, for some unclear reason, this little guy was taking his time figuring out how to grow.  This did not worry the doctors at all; he just needed a tincture of time to get the hang of the eating and growing rhythm.  The mom was attended by the mother-in-law who seemed loving and supportive in the journey they were on (sometimes she was the mama “kangaroo”).  On this little guy’s nineteenth day of life, the dad came in and declared that it was time to give up on this little guy; the husband needed his wife at home to care for their two other children.  After many attempts to talk him into “a little more time,” the father got his way and we watched them all leave, quite sure that this little guy would not survive the trip home (Have you seen our video on Nepali roads?).  For lack of support, for lack of patience, and who knows what else, another sweet little soul leaves this earth (I believe).  We had two deaths on the Pediatric Ward last week: one from encephalitis, one from pneumonia.  We did everything we could to save their lives; it wasn’t enough.  So, we hurt and mourn with their mothers and fathers.  Finally, I have always thought that malnutrition was not such a big deal in Nepal; you know, not like those kids with bloated bellies that you see in Africa.  Now, as I watch so many kids struggle for life against many illnesses that my children survive in the comforts of our home, I am beginning to understand the toll of malnutrition.  The more I think of it, the more I understand.  How many of you would thrive on two meals a day (one at 11am and the other at 8pm), always the same food (rice, lentils and vegetables).  It is not that other items are unavailable, and it is not that other foods are terribly expensive (although some might be); the bottom line: culture is very resistant to change.  So many kids who start life this way simply lose the desire to eat, after enduring many days of hunger between 11am and 8pm.  What to do?

Contrary to my sons’ occasional accusations, “He did it for no reason,” people usually have underlying reasons for their behavior.  And discerning that reason is a skill that can be learned in the discipline of anthropology (Dave, are you smiling now?).  So, for years I have observed Nepalis who wear shoes with laces and choose to wind the final bit of lace around their ankles and make the tie behind the Achilles tendon.  This has always looked terribly uncomfortable to me and I have often wondered why they do it.  I have asked and often been told, “That’s how we do it.”  The other day, I was chatting with a Nepali medical Resident and he enlightened me.  He said that when he was little, and his parents would buy him shoes for school, they would buy them quite large, so that they would last a long time (shoes being an expensive investment).  The trouble came when he went outside to play, while at school; he loved to play soccer, as many Nepali boys do, but when he made a big kick, his shoe often went flying as far as the ball did.  This could be troublesome; the punishment could be severe if a boy returned home from school without a shoe.  So, he learned to secure the shoes to his body by the above-described tying style.  Over time, that is what felt comfortable to him, and to this day, he ties his shoes behind his Achilles tendon.  Anthropology offers a lifetime of potential learning.

Thanks for listening,
Kimberly

What missionary kids living in the mountains of Nepal do for fun on a Saturday afternoon; "pine needle sledding."

This is what missionary kids do for fun on a Saturday afternoon in Tansen, Nepal.  The pine-covered  hill above the Tansen Mission Hospital gets covered with pine needles this time of year, making for good  pine needle sledding.  Just grab some cardboard, a big plastic bag, a big plastic basin or a large metal bowl and you are ready to go have some fun.  No long lift lines here!  

More pine needle sleeding fun!

Time for a few photos...

Jake gets Mariner tickets (for July) for his birthday!

Ethan teaches Josh about collecting and drying butterflies!

The Beines (+Smith) take on Kathmandu!

My, Kathmandu has certainly changed!