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Not right?
by Ozzy-Dave
Adelaide, South Australia, Australia
September 9, 2003
It’s his fourth visit to Nepal and our first, and the topic turns to worthwhile local diversions. "The Peace Pagoda is visible from the end of the road," he points. "It’s a good walk to the top and the views will be excellent today. You know, it took ‘em 50 years to build that thing."
The pagoda was the brainchild of a disillusioned Japanese man, Nishidathsu Fuji, whose mission to spread the word of peace brought him to the birthplace of Buddhism in Lumbini before he secured a location (and funding) for his stupa – a forested hilltop overlooking Pokhara.
Petty bickering and political infighting plagued the project, but in 1993 Fuji’s vision prevailed.
Row your boat At Lakeside, several boats are moored near a small temple. "The red ones cost more," we’re told, but the charade unfolds and 400rp for the day is agreed.
Karen quickly loses interest in rowing and I’m elected navigator and engine.
We approach an island with a temple dedicated to one of Vishnu’s many incarnations. Like many Hindu shrines, colour abounds, but this one is different. It’s covered in guano. Hundreds of nesting boxes crowd the shore, apparently used by countless homing pigeons, but no one seems to know why.
At the other side of the lake is the Typical Restaurant (don’t you love originality?) and a sign marking the trail up to the pagoda.
Best hash in Pokhara Stone stairs lead through temperate forest on a steep climb. We puff and pant, struggling with the incline, while a line of barefooted women pass, lugging sacks of grain and chatting as they go – probably about red-faced Westerners and their pathetic work ethic. They’d be right.
Near the top, a small chorten occupies a flat ridge. Two Germans lie on the rocks, admiring Pokhara, almost 1,000 feet below. But they are much higher than 1,000 feet. The smell is sweet and familiar as smoke drifts my way.
An elderly man appears from bushes near the chorten, hobbling, his skin pulled tight and his eyes dancing. "You want hash? Best in Pokhara. Make you strong," he beamed. "Me strong man. I go to top every day, then up and down many times to do business."
"Yeah, right," I thought, dismissing this wizened dope baron.
At the top, four bronze Buddhas greet the four cardinals of the earth in a dedication to peace. They preside over a 35-metre gleaming white stupa that commands unobscured views over the valley and mountains. A tour guide regales his charges and I tell him about the old man.
"Ahh, the Marijuana Man," he nods. "A legend. Paralysed down one side, you know. Spends all day tending his crops. Up and down, up and down. Then he rows to town to buy medicine." "Must be the best hash in all of Pokhara!"
"Yeah," was all I could offer, "So I heard."
From journal Reach for the sky in Pokhara