Trekking!

And we're back...

Trekking was glorious. Chitwan was hot as hell (no exaggeration there) and despite all the build-up to my elephant excursion, I was uncomfortable riding these creatures that should be lumbering along under their own volition rather than under the whip and yells of a trainer. Worse yet was the realization that I was paying for it. Once we left Chitwan however, the days were blissfully filled with early breakfasts in the shadows of snow-capped peaks, exhausting hours bearing our packs up stairs, through jungle and along the crevasses between valleys and finally dinner, made all the more delicious after 5 or 6 hours of hiking. Though in Spring the farthest mountains are clouded in fog, I have never seen more rhododendrons in my life! The knobbly trees covered in bright green folds of moss, practically falling over under the weight of bright pink, red, and white flowers - I felt like the princess in a fairy tale or Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream (I told Melanie the same thing, and promptly received her now practiced "you are such a geek" look.)

At the different stops along the way, we ran into the best breed of tourists - mostly Europeans from Sweden, the Netherlands, France and Germany. We received many a strange look as Nepalis and Americans (speaking in Nepali!) dueled over never-ending card games and endless plates of french fries. I realized what a difference it makes to be able to speak in Nepali (thank you language teachers!) Our porters were fantastic and so nice, but without any language we would simply have been client and employee rather than the fast friends we became. It might have helped that I was an American girl and they were all Nepali boys my age, but we'll ignore that for now. Our last night we celebrated with some home-made "alcohol" (the Americans couldn't feel a thing) and plenty of Nepali dance, laughter and finally exhaustion under a bright moon. As relics of our tour, I have returned with an enviable farmer's tan, the knees of a 60-year old man and a serious distaste for classes, the polluted streets of Kathmandu and days filled with sitting on my ass.

In the midst of my post-trek depression, it's nice to feel a larger system of order coming into place. Completely unbeknownst to me three years ago, Columbia seems to be THE place for climate research, be it entirely theoretical, anthropological or empirical. At first I feared branching into this new anthropological field would open a Pandora's Box of unknown names, terms and theories. Instead, I see names I know (personally!) and ideas of indigenous climate justice I've always felt but could never articulate. One article cites Ben Orlove... I know him! Another cites Agrawala again and again... wait, my mentor co-authored a paper with him and now he's drafting OECD development reports for the Nepalese government! These incredible resources just seem to fall into my lap, coinciding with an incredible month-long excursion in one of the most beautiful mountain areas in the world. I'm practically counting the days when I can head off and not only discover the limits of my own independence, but leave behind the structures and regimentation of CNSP.