encounters...

For the first time since the beggining of our travels, we discover a country in which the vast majority of the population, to our surprise, speaks very good english. Nepal has been a favourite destination for tourists for a long time, and the base for many mountaineering expeditions over the years. This means the Nepalis have been learning and speaking english for a long time. We can now have a conversation with the young and not so young... We no longer have to select our words in a total vocabulary of about 50 words (in the local language) or try to communicate through hand gestures and faces. Thanks to english, we can truely have a conversation. Thanks to english, Nepal, to us, will rime with encounters...

First, with this 13-year old boy, the son of the owners of a small tea house where we stop for delicious momos and fried noodles. He wears the T-Shirt of the English soccer team. But his true hero, he tells us, is Zinedine Zidane... Do you know him? he asks us, his bright full eyes looking at us. He does not like TV, but if Zizou is playing a game, he finds a TV screen somewhere. Yvoine finds herself going years back when, with her brothers, she was collecting pictures of the various French soccer teams. Her favorite team, she recalls, was Lens, probably because of the red colour on their flag... And so, in the middle of momos and noodles, we talk about soccer, and Zinedine Zidane's talents and skills. We end up promising this 13-year old to send him a shirt of the French soccer team, because Zinedine Zidane, after all, does not play for England! The second hero of this boy is Albert Einstein, "the father of science" he tells us. His objective in life is to become the new Einstein! These words, said in a small hut with barely good hygiene and more candlelight than electricity, leave us full of hope for this country's future.

The day before, a 14-year old girl we'd met as we were drinking tea at her parents' home, had asked us why Nepal was so late in its development. And what should Nepal do to catch up with the rest of the western world? She had hundreds of questions, wondering about the world and how her country fitted in this world. With no end to her curiosity, she wanted to study science, to help her country go forward. At the end of our conversation, she excuses herself for asking so many questions! It seems to us the youth of this country is very much opened to what's happening elsewhere, and full of energy and will. Let's hope this does not disappear when they get to adulthood, in a country where the custom of young marriages and a fairly traditional vision of where one fits in society, according to sex and social status, are still very much a reality.

And what about this 13-year old boy, who, in perfect english, and with his world atlas in the hand, asks Yvoine where she is from. He asks her what her name is and when she answers "Yvoine", he looks at her, not understanding: "but what is your caste name?" "Oh... McCort I suppose..." Sceptical, he replies: "but that's not a French caste name?" Yvoine then answers in a language this boy can understand: "no, it is my husband's caste name, my father gave me the name "Remy" and my husband the name McCort". Satisfied, the questions come flying non-stop: who is the new pope? What is his name? Is it true the westerners do not go to religious festivals anymore because they do not have enough time (a way to explain the religious crisis in our countries to Nepalis, to whom religion is at the heart of daily life)? And do we know Marie Curie? She is his model... Science plays a big role in the minds of this country's children. As he leaves us, he wishes us all the best: "me, I cannot even ride 10 kilometers..."

And this encounter with this journalist who offers us dinner, since we are his guests. When we ask him what is, according to him, the solution to the civil war that affects Nepal so badly, he tells us, resigned: "it's been like this for 10 years, it will be as bad for another 10 at least". This war is a reality every day, and, as often, the country's inhabitants are hostages to it. Everyday, the papers tell of 5 to 20 deaths, in the police/army or maoist camps, or both. Another day, it is a passenger bus that blows up on a landmine 50km south of where we are, leaving 42 people dead. Another day again, we get stopped by a couple of journalists from the Nepal Daily Times who will write an article about our adventure. They are just back from a village, some 24km away from where we are. 6 wives and children of police officers have been murdered by the maoists. This war has become personal. Everyone has had a neighbour, a friend, a parent killed in the conflict. When the Nepal Daily Times journalists ask us what we think of the war, we choose our words carefully: "this situation is very sad. What we see travelling through the country is that the people of Nepal want only one thing: peace". For the vast majority, this war is hell. The many Nepalis who used to make a living with tourism have lost their income: tourists do not come to Nepal anymore. The others, farmers and peasants, living of what they grow and farm, loose both their food and their children and husbands when the maoists come to their village, take the food and force the men to join the maoist forces. To get places in this country has become at best a hassle, at worst dangerous. The army and police checkpoints are everywhere, but that is not always enough. The bus that blew up did so on a landmine at a checkpoint. Facing the maoists, there is the king - made king in somewhat suspicious circumstances according to the whispers -. He has taken full powers. Maybe that is the only solution, if you can guarantee the population is on your side... According to the Nepalis we meet, they have little esteem for the corrupted political parties that are asking the king to restore their legitimacy and representation. But the reactions are more mixed when it comes to what's happening with journalists. The king has been putting in place many censorship measures on the press, and limiting their freedom quite substantially. For example, the day we arrive in Kathmandu, the king has just decided that it would be forbidden for FM radios to give news, in accordance with international law. Apparently nowhere in the world do FM radios give news...!?!?). So the king now has the journalists against him (putting some of them in jail in fact) and with them, part of the population... The atmosphere is tensed, and seems to lead to a cul-de-sac, with no obvious way out.

Another encounter again with this teenager. He is so proud to tell us his big brother went to the US 4 months ago. He has been recruited by the US army... We feel sick. It is so much easier to justify war back home when the soldiers dying are not american... Our world is sometimes a sad spectacle...

And those many conversations, for 5 or 15 minutes, with those school kids cycling back from school, so keen to know more. Or this student in journalism who decides to ride with us for 4 kilometers, time for him to ask us 25 questions (good pace)... Or this army man who offers us a drink, and, his rifle nonchalantly pointing at us, asks us: "do you like the Nepali army?"

We have met so many people, keen to meet, talk and so welcoming. Their country has reached a dead end. The solution is not obvious to any of them. In one of the last Nepali villages we cross, the silhouette of a maoist stuffed figure, hanging at the branch of a tree, sends a cold signal. And reminds us, as we are about to enter India, that the solution is indeed not about to be found...