Oct. 29, 2014. Pokhara Walkabout.

By 9 AM most of the tourists and adventurers have departed Pokhara. The Europeans, the Chinese men that often dress like they are on safari, the Chinese women with sun hats, designer sunglasses and the ubiquitous SLR camera with a zoom lens hanging from their neck - their young girls with pink shoes and a pink hoodie with a western logo - like Abercrombie, Nike or Apple - and of course a pink suitcase - are intermixed with the young Australians and Americans - most of them have packed up their daypacks and headed out for a day of adventure.  The town is almost empty except for locals.  

You can go paragliding, ride in an ultralight, gho white water or lake kayaking, white water rafting, treking for anywhere between 1 to 25 days , do "The Circuit" or "The ABC", you can go for a mountain bike ride.   You can take a boat ride, fish or take a zip line ride down "One of the Longest Zip Lines in the World" or doubtlessly go on other adventures.

After the morning exodus, the city quiets down, there is much less truck and taxi traffic, far fewer motorcycles and there about 1/20 of the Westerners you would see at 5 PM.  You might even see a cow wandering down the street as you go for a morning walk.

No crowds at the zip lines, paragliding, whitewater rafting or kayaking for me, thank you.

I set out for a walkabout of the city.  

I wandered through the back streets and alleys of Pokhara.  Where the people who work in the shops, the bars, the restaurants and the adventure supply stores live on a daily basis with their families.  I watched dishes being washed on front porches, laundry being hung, porches being swept and children being given baths in a tub in the front yard.  The daily life of Pokhara.

I was intrigued by the new buildings being constructed - all by hand - pure manual labor in every step of construction.  Just like in Myanmar.  There were no cranes, no forklifts, no concrete mixers, no concrete pump trucks, no backhoes, no hoists.  

Scaffolds were all made of bamboo and there were no guardrails.  I watched as a man traversed a single plank spanning 6 or 7 feet, over 30 feet up. 'Bejeebers', that is dangerous.

All the work being performed was manual - on 3 to 4 story tall concrete, stone and brick buildings - where every tool, piece of construction material or whatever else was needed to build a 4 story building was either carried, mixed, hauled, installed, uplifted, transported or lowered by hand.  Often by women.

I walked for several hours and saw 1 or 2 Westerners.   I was on a less pretentious adventure.

I was politely and graciously invited inside a bamboo gate to watch and photograph two young women - 14 or 16 years old -  hauling baskets full of bricks on their back - with the head strap used to carry the weight.   

Other women at another construction site would laboriously and methodically make trip after trip, hauling 25 to 30 kilos of gravel that would be mixed with portland cement to make brick or stone mortar.

I stopped again and watched two young men - weighing maybe 105 pounds - carry 100 pound bags of portland cement on their backs - one after another - up three stories in a building under construction. 

I watched as two men carried 50 foot lengths of rebar - bowed in half - from a truck to ta building - wearing sandals. 

The rebar delivery truck.

Everyone was wearing sandals...even me.

Another woman squatted and mixed portland cement, sand and small gravel for the mortar for a stone wall, carefully ensuring she removed the larger, golf ball sized rocks that were added to the portland cement for bulk and to the reduce cost per bag.

I stopped to watch young children - maybe three years old - play together and ride bicycles with training wheels.   When I stopped, laughed and smiled as I watched the children play, their parents, sitting on the front porch of a small home, smiled at me. 

Namaste.

They knew and I knew - what each other wanted to say.  Not a word was spoken, but we understood each other.

It was a special moment.  I was out of my comfort zone as a non parent, but strangely, I was more comfortable than in the US. 

In the US, you would run the risk that an overzealous parent would accuse you of _____________ (fill in the blank).

I motioned for the children to ride in a circle for me and they dutifully obeyed.  It was a one ring circus show for the westen traveler - or the tourist (gasp) - the financial engine of most of Nepal. 

I said and showed Namaste to the young children and they returned Namaste to me.

Overall, Nepal is an extremely friendly, scenic, safe and inexpensive travel destination.

My day was so much more enjoyable than standing in a que for a zip line ride or sitting in a group safety lesson about a ride on a paraglider - along with loud, obnoxious, Chinese tourists, all expecting to be pampered and taking dozens of staged photographs with mega cameras.

I was inside the bowels the city - fortunately, almost everyone else was on the outside.