Showing posts sorted by relevance for query vISA. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query vISA. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, September 8, 2011

How to Get a Research Visa in Nepal

Claudine was so kind to walk you through getting a student visa, so the joy of explaining how to procure a research visa in Nepal falls on me.

Now is probably the time to note that we have never actually gone though the process of getting a research visa in Nepal. We did, however, consider it seriously and thus did some detailed research on the process (see -- I think we would make excellent research visa candidates). We believe our information is accurate, but it may not be complete and is subject to change. If you have anything helpful to add, please leave a note in the comments.

1. Choose to obtain a research visa.

Cons:
--A research visa can be more expensive than paying for a combination of tourist visa and student visa over the course of a one-year stay in Nepal.
--Most research visas cover the length of one year. If you need a visa to cover a shorter amount of time, a student visa may fill the gap for a lower cost.

Pros:
--Because research visas are valid for one year, you only need to jump through the bureaucratic visa hoop annually. In contrast, under a combination student and tourist visa plan you will have to dance through the bureaucracy twice per year to switch your status between the two. In addition, we have heard that it is possible to extend certain research projects for additional years, and if this is true, that would likely lessen the burden of extending the research annually.
--If you do not have the free time to attend classes as demanded under the student visa, the research visa is a good option with fewer time constraints. Under a research visa you must maintain contact with your adviser (monthly and in person if you study in the Valley; by email, phone, or fax if you study outside the Valley) and submit quarterly and annual reports, but there are no scheduled classes or mandatory attendance.

2. Visit the Centre for International Relations (CIR) at Tribhuvan University (TU).

You cannot get a valid research visa through any other organization or university. The CIR is located in room 72 on the third floor of TU's Central Office Administration Building in Kirtipur. At the CIR you will pick up a research visa application form (for a fee of 100 rupees). There you can speak to an administrator who will walk you through the application process. Word to the wise: check with the office first to ensure they will be open when you wish to arrive. Given that the processing of your visa will take about five weeks (at least) once you submit your application documents to TU, I suggest beginning this process as soon as possible after you arrive in Nepal (if not before you arrive).

Contact Address and Info (as given on the application form)
Tribhuvan University, Kritipur, Kathmandu, Nepal
Central Administration Building
Third Floor, Room No. 72, Kritipur, Kathmandu, Nepal
Telephone: +977-1-4330840
Fax: +977-1-4332500
Email: tucir@ntc.net.np

3. Complete all elements of the application and submit to CIR.

You must supply CIR with three copies of the following documents.

A) Application Form
Congratulations for spending the 100 rupees to purchase this application form! It is fairly straightforward. Be prepared to list the name, address, and phone number for two references. You must submit a passport photo as part of the form (so, plan to submit four).

B) Short Research Proposal
This should be three to five pages and include the name of the professor you are working with/under at TU. Speak to CIR for more guidance about the specifics of this proposal and how to find a professor with whom to work. In talking to other expats who have successfully procured research visas, I have learned that the proposal should include the following headings:
-Introduction/background or conceptual framework.
-Purpose and objectives.
-Methodology/procedure of study. Description of subject/population studied, including location.
-Schedule/timeline for the study period.

C) Research Budget
Estimate your expenses of study under headings like rent, travel expenses, meals, study materials, miscellaneous, etc. Note that this budget must exceed 5000 USD for an individual and 8000 USD for someone who will add a dependent on the research visa. CIR makes money by charging you a percentage of your budget as a fee. Therefore, you must exceed the budget minimums, but do so by as little as possible if you wish to keep your fee total low. Also note that these budget minimums are subject to change -- they are higher than I was quoted by expats who had procured research visas in years prior.

C) Bank Statement
This bank statement must show 3000 USD per person covered by the visa (researcher plus dependents) deposited in a Nepal bank account. All of this money must be in the account in the name of the researcher, not spread over the accounts of the researcher and dependent(s). To open a bank account, you may need a "No Objection" letter from your embassy (see D below). Opening a bank account in Nepal on a tourist visa involves some road blocks. Do not be deterred and be prepared to assert yourself. For more details, read about Claudine's experience here.

D) Letter of Recommendation from the Concerned Embassy
For Americans, I believe this is the standard, form "No Objection" letter the U.S. Embassy distributes freely. To request a "No Objection" letter from the U.S. Embassy you can email the consular section at ConsKtm@state.gov

E) Letter of Concerned University (only for students and teachers)
The application form is not clear on what this means. I suspect it applies to applicants taking courses for credit or a degree at TU or to applicants who are currently students or teachers at institutions outside of Nepal. Confirm with CIR.

F) Letter of Sponsorship (if applicable)
This is not explained on the application form, but I believe this is applicable if you are receiving funding for your study from an outside source.

G) Photocopies of Passports and Current Valid Visas for Researcher and Dependents

H) Certificate or Transcript of the Highest or Last Degree Received by Researcher

I) For Ph.D. Degree, Enrollment Document from Concerned University

4. Ka-ching -- Pay the fees.

The registration fee is 160 USD for the researcher and 80 USD for a dependent. You will also be charged a fee based on a percentage of the study budget (I believe it is about 10% -- can anyone confirm this?).

5. Put on a bathing suit -- time to swim through the bureaucracy.

Once you have submitted all the appropriate documents, it takes TU about two weeks to process your application. TU then issues a letter to the Ministry of Education which you will probably have to pick up at TU and deliver. After this, the process is a bit unclear, but I believe it involves approval by the Ministry of Home Affairs (this part of the process takes about three additional weeks) and eventually a trip to the Department of Immigration to get the visa into your passport. You must also pay the Department of Immigration a fee for your research visa (plus a fee for dependents) -- I believe this fee is about $60 per month per person. Yes, this is in addition to the fees you paid TU. Also, I am not certain which documents the Department of Immigration will demand in order to issue the final visa, but I advise you to bring a copy of everything you originally submitted to CIR. Remember to always, always keep a copy for yourself. And, as always, bring plenty of passport photos for the researcher and dependents.

6. Comply with the requirements of your research visa.

The CIR application form has the applicant certify as follows:
1. Periodical contact will be maintained with the affiliated institution and CIR.
2. Progress reports on a quarterly basis will be submitted to the CIR through the affiliated institution. A final report of the study along with specimens and photographs will be submitted for the CIR after the completion of the study.
The non-fulfillment of the above terms may result in the discontinuation of the affiliation and all facilities, including the extension of the visa.

I have heard that "periodical contact" entails monthly visits in person to CIR if you are studying in the the Kathmandu Valley and monthly contact by email, phone, or fax if you are studying outside the Valley.

Good luck!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

How to Get a Student Visa in Nepal

Way back in April, I wrote about my process of obtaining a student visa in Nepal, covering the long list of steps (and missteps) in Part 1 and Part 2. I wrote about this topic in excruciating detail because, well, the process was excruciating, and I also thought that someone else might find it helpful. It turns out that those visa posts remain some of our most popular blog posts ever, and we have received many emails from people searching for more information on the topic. For a long time I could only offer advice based on my own experience, and I did not care to do more research because I thought that we would not have to go through that process again.

Yeah, about that.

Now, though, I am older and wiser and have been around the proverbial Kathmandu block. I also have a much more complete and detailed data set to share about how to obtain a student visa in Nepal. So, here goes.

As a caveat, this information is based on my personal experiences. I believe it is accurate, but it may not be complete and is subject to change, especially given the current instability of Nepal's politics. If you have anything to add, please leave a note in the comments.

1. Determine which campus you want to attend for classes.

To the best of my knowledge, the only campuses that grant student visas to foreigners are the following:

A) Bishwa Bhasa Campus (Campus of International Languages). Located in central Kathmandu on the same street as the Nepal Tourism Board, this campus is an affiliate of Tribhuvan University, and it is the only campus that grants student visas to people who want to study the Nepali language.

There are two semesters. The summer semester begins on July 16, and the winter semester begins on February 1. Beginning Nepali is offered during both semesters. Classes are held five days per week, Monday through Friday, and are 1.5 hours long. The classes do not get good reviews in terms of language learning.

You must pay for the entire semester (there is no option for pro-rating), even if you register late. One semester costs $500, which must be deposited in U.S. dollars in the school's bank account at Nabil Bank. Your study visa will be valid though the end of the semester for which you register.

For a detailed list of required documents, fees, and registration timetables, please see this page on the school's website.

Contact information
General: vishwo@biva.wlink.com.np and +977-1-4228916

B) Kathmandu University Centre for Art and Design. This affiliate of KU is located in Mandikhatar, which is north of the ring road and east of the new Bhat-Bhateni Super Market in Maharajgunj.

The Centre offers non-credit "short courses" for expats seeking study visas. Unlike the Bishwa Basha language campus, at the Centre you can begin and end a course whenever you like. This flexible system means that you can easily be on a tourist visa for the allowed five months and on a study visa for the remaining seven months every calendar year, with no worries about semesters. Classes cost $100 per month, and you will pay upfront for the number of months you require. You can pay in rupees.

The Centre offers classes in basic drawing, painting, ceramics, sculpture, and photography. To receive student visas, foreign students must attend classes twice a week, and classes range from 1.5 to 3 hours each. Although the twice-weekly class requirement is strictly enforced, you can choose from a range of class options, including independent study arrangements if you are a more advanced artiste.

The staff at the Centre are extremely helpful and kind, and they speak excellent English. Unlike at Bishwa Basha, they walk you through the process and make it relatively painless. Once you hand over all the required documents and fees, the turnaround time for a visa should be about two weeks.

Contact information
General: kuart@wlink.com.np
Gopal: +977-9841432719

C) Kathmandu University Department of Music. Although this campus is based in Bhaktapur, they offer practical music classes for foreigners seeking student visas at a location near Ratna Park in central Kathmandu.

As at the Centre for Art and Design, the Department of Music allows you to choose when you begin and end classes. Classes also cost $100 per month, and twice-weekly attendance is mandatory. I know someone who took group guitar lessons at the Ratna Park location, and his report was positive. He mentioned that most classes are offered in Bhaktapur (very inconvenient for those living in Kathmandu) and that he had to specifically request information about the guitar class held in Ratna Park.

Contact information
General: kudepmus@mail.com.np
Raju Hyaumikha: rhyaumika@yahoo.com and +977- 9841423789


2. Gather required documents.

After you make a decision about which campus to join, you will need to gather all of the necessary documents. To the best of my knowledge, the basic set of required documents includes:

A) Application form from campus that you plan to attend.
B) 4 copies of current valid passport of each person to receive a student visa (i.e. if you plan for your spouse and children to be dependents on your student visa, then you will need to provide four copies of every person's passport).
C) 4 copies of current valid visa of each person to receive a student visa.
D) 2 passport-size photos of each person to receive a student visa.
E) 1 copy of marriage certificate if you are including your spouse as a dependent on your visa.
F) 1 copy of a "No Objection" letter from your respective embassy. The U.S. Embassy gives these freely as a form letter, but we do not know about letters from other embassies. To request a "No Objection" letter from the U.S. Embassy you can email the consular section at ConsKtm@state.gov
G) 4 copies of bank statement from a local bank in Nepal. This is not money that you will be spending on your course or your visa -- this is simply a mandatory balance that you must keep in a local bank account. Be aware that different campuses impose different requirements about bank balances: Bishwa Basha requires a balance of $3,000, plus an additional $2,000 for each family member who will be a dependent on the visa; KU Centre for Art and Design requires a flat $1,500 for six months of courses and $3,000 for 12 months, with no additional money required for dependents.

In addition to these documents, Bishwa Basha also requires photocopies of transcripts from the highest degree you earned.

One tip: make sure you have a duplicate copy of every single document that you submit. This is good standard practice for navigating any bureaucracy in Nepal, but you will also need to submit many of these documents to the Department of Immigration in the last step.

3. Pick up Ministry of Education letter.

After you submit all of your paperwork and fees, the campus will process your application and obtain a letter from the Ministry of Education that recommends you for a student visa. The campus should notify you when your letter is ready to be picked up at the campus. Plan for the turnaround time to take at least one week.

4. Go to Department of Immigration to obtain visa.

Once you have the official letter from the Ministry of Education, you can take that letter, along with your passport, passport photos, and all supporting documentation (see Step 2 above) to the Department of Immigration. There you will fill out a visa application form and pay for the visa itself. You will pay upfront for all months requested, and you can pay in rupees. The cost differs for single-entry and multiple-entry visas, but I recommend always getting a multiple-entry visa as a precautionary measure. You can read more about student visas on the Department of Immigration's website here.

The Department of Immigration may be able to process your visa that same day, but it is more likely that you will submit your application and fee and then have to return the next day to pick it up.

Some Points to Note

We have heard that it is not possible (or perhaps just very difficult) to add a dependent on a student visa after you have gone through the process of receiving one. If you plan to have dependents receive visas through your student visa, it may be necessary to have them included in every step of your initial application rather than planning to just add them later.

Opening a bank account in Nepal on a tourist visa involves some road blocks. Do not be deterred and be prepared to assert yourself. For more details, read about my experience here. Also, you may need a "No Objection" letter from your embassy open an account -- see 2.F above for details.

Most schools are fairly serious about attendance, demanding 70 or 80 percent attendance to pass the course. Of course, you will receive your visa before your course begins, and we have never heard of a school finding a way to revoke someone's visa for truancy. On the other hand, if you fail to show for class, the school is likely to take note and refuse to enroll you in the future. If you are unable to commit to attending classes, you may want to consider getting a research visa instead.

I know the process sounds complicated and a little overwhelming (because it is), but I am here to say that with some patience and planning it can be done. Good luck!

If you are looking for information on getting a research visa in Nepal, check out our post tomorrow.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Epic Fail: Nepal Visa Woes, Part 2

"The word adventure has gotten overused. For me, when everything goes wrong, that's when adventure starts." --Yvon Chouinard

At the end of Part 1, my visa application was held up at the Home Ministry while my tourist visa allowing me to stay in the country remained valid for just ten more days.

Held up, indeed.

Apparently, my application was lethally flawed. A Home Minister bureaucrat, a man I grew to deeply loathe, informed me of all the ways that my college and I had failed to follow proper application procedures (nevermind that this was the very first time anyone informed me of these rules and procedures, no matter how many times I had asked). A major sticking point was that I had already extended my tourist visa and that my application should have been initiated before that extension. That I actually had initiated the application before my extension, but it was the bureaucratic delay in other departments (I'm looking at you, Ministry of Education) that held me up until now was not persuasive. My application was flawed and for the moment it was being held as rejected. Any attempt to fix my application would be in vain -- it was too late to be initiating a new application, after all, since I had already extended my tourist visa (duh). The Home Ministry's suggestion? Please leave the country and reenter in January 2012 when you can begin your application anew.

So there I was with no visa and ten days to figure out an alternative. Complete and total panic washed over me. Fortunately, I had no time for an actual breakdown -- I could probably find a way to get a student visa, but condensing a process that normally takes four to six weeks into ten days would take immediate action (and probably a miracle). A few phone calls later I had my solution: a local lawyer could file the proper paperwork to get me an emergency extension...for a price.

And this is where things got fun. You didn't think it would be this simple, did you?

Earlier in the summer Claudine had applied for a job open only to applicants with valid visas allowing them to legally work in Nepal (tourist, student, and research visas would not cut it). She applied with the expectation that by the end of July, I would have a working visa and thus she would have one, too, as my dependent spouse.

Two days after learning that my visa application was stalled at the Home Ministry, Claudine got the job. This was the job we had been waiting for -- long-term, meaningful work, solid pay and benefits, potential career advancement. But without the proper visa, no dice. "You do have the appropriate visa, correct?" "Well...we're working on it."

So we set to work, determined to get the visa, secure the job, and live happily ever after. If reason could just win out and my application could be amended and approved, then all would be okay. We pursued every avenue possible. The month of August has been a blur of lawyers, meetings, phone calls, tears, hope, and despair. We attempted to convince the lowest level employees who might be willing to take pity. We called in connections to people who had access to politicians at the very top of the government. I personally called and talked to members of the Constituent Assembly to plead my case. At one point, our fate rested on the question of which politician would be appointed to a certain cabinet post and how long it would take for him to take the oath of office. Three separate times we were told that our visa was all but secured with 90% certainty. Each time, our hopes were dashed.

Claudine's employer remained patient for almost a month but finally had to give her a deadline for procuring the appropriate visa. A last-ditch effort had us hopeful up to that very last day. Alas, this effort, like the others before, fell through. No visa. No job. Epic fail.

So, no, August has not been a good month for us. In retrospect, I can put all kinds of gloss on the situation and see the silver linings of lessons learned, relationships strengthened, etc., but the fact of the matter is that it was awful. Frustrating. Demoralizing. Painful. Sometimes life does not work out in your favor. We fell and we fell very hard. Why sugarcoat that?

August has left us drained, physically and emotionally, but we are dusting ourselves off and standing up again. We have lots to look forward to and be thankful for, visa or no visa, job or no job. We do not regret our decision to move here and as of now we plan to stay (though recent events have seriously questioned our ability and desire to do so). Moving abroad has been many things, but not all of them have been good. That, we have learned, is all part of the adventure.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Chasing a Student Visa in Nepal: Part 1

Brian and I both arrived in Nepal on tourist visas. For people of most nationalities, obtaining a tourist visa is incredibly easy: upon arrival at Kathmandu's Tribhuvan International Airport, fill out a brief form, fork over your passport photo and visa fee (just $100 for 90 days, and even less for shorter durations), and wait in line to receive the visa in your passport. How do they print the visas so quickly, you wonder? Well, that's easy -- there is no printing involved. Relevant information is filled in by hand. The process is fast and cheap, and it requires little planning ahead.

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But here is the wrinkle. Although you can obtain extensions for tourist visas, 150 days is the maximum amount of time, per calendar year, that you can stay in Nepal under a tourist visa. After your five months are up during a given calendar year (western, not Nepali), you have to ship out -- or obtain a non-tourist visa.

Non-tourist visas, however, are an entirely different beast from their easy-to-obtain cousin. The process for a non-tourist visa is neither fast nor cheap, and it requires quite a bit of research and planning.

Around the middle of February, about one month into my 90-day tourist visa, I was talking to a friend who re-entered the country around the same time that I did, and she told me that she was already taking steps to get a student visa.

"A student visa? But you have a business here." I figured, of all people who could legitimately obtain a business visa, she was one, as a co-founder of a successful start-up in Nepal.

But clearly I knew nothing about the non-resident visa process because she laughed -- kindly, but more or less in my face. (On a side note, I have come to really enjoy her candor and appreciate her tough love approach to educating me on how to navigate Nepal's bureaucracies.)

"We went through that process last year," she explained, "and it was not worth it. It was expensive and time-consuming, and the visa lasted only six months."

This time around, she continued, she and her husband would get student visas. After diligently researching her options for several months, she realized that this approach was the second easiest route to a non-tourist visa.

"And the easiest?" I asked.

"Oh, a paper marriage. Three different lawyers recommended that option."

Given that she and I both love our husbands too much to ditch them -- not to mention our status as law-abiding citizens -- for Nepali guys, we decided to work together on the student visa project.

I was grateful that she had already completed a lot of the research legwork because time was getting tight. Although we both had months remaining on our tourist visas, they would ultimately expire before the start of the second student semester, so we had to rush to register for a class in the current semester. Once registered for a class, the theory went, we could obtain student visas. Once we had our student visas in hand, our husbands could also get visas as spouses -- no class registration necessary.

The visa process had only just begun, but at least I no longer had to worry about planning a Nepali wedding.






Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Like Whoa: Nepal Visa Woes, Part 1

Despite our recent cheery blog posts and the genuinely cheery moments they reflect, there has been a large cloud hanging over us this summer (and I am not talking about the standard daily monsoon rains).

It all began when I received a job teaching at a local college. It seemed like a great opportunity for a number of reasons, but one large benefit would be that it could provide a work visa for me as well as a dependent visa for Claudine. Nepal allows you stay in the country under a tourist visa for a total of five months in any given calendar year. Beyond that, if you wish to stay in the country you must do so through another kind of visa. For those not married to a Nepali, research visas and students visas are usually the way to go (and we plan to write in depth about how to procure those in posts next week). Work visas for foreigners are somewhat rare here in Nepal, largely because the rules for granting one create a very high and difficult barrier for employers and employees. For this reason, many thousands of foreigners working in Nepal (most commonly with aid organizations) are doing so under student visas or research visas.

As an aside, I understand that visa laws and bureaucracies are maddening and awful in most countries, including the United States. Our experiences in dealing with visas here have been painful, but in sharing them it is not my intention to unfairly single out Nepal as a model of dysfunctional government administration (though, this caveat is not intended as an endorsement of Nepal's bureaucracy, either -- quite the opposite).

My visa hunt began in earnest at the end of May. For almost two months I would devote countless hours to trips to different educational institutions and government ministries. It was a summer of letters, signatures, seals, meetings, and mistakes. Oh so many mistakes. "This hand-delivered letter was supposed to be sent directly by the college." "We received the letter from the college, but it was supposed to be written by a different department." "This letter has the appropriate author but lacks the appropriate content." Tear out hair. Fix problem. Discover new problem. Repeat.

I swam upstream in the Nepali bureaucracy for weeks. The hardest part was not having the appropriate information and not having a trustworthy, thorough source. I trusted my college to know what they were doing, but in the end discovered they were clueless (though they did not make that entirely clear to me during the process). I talked to numerous bureaucrats and asked questions. I received misinformation, sometimes I believe inadvertently, sometimes I believe purposely just to get me out of their hair. I went to the Department of Immigration to find the door locked during normal operating hours. A man outside unaffiliated with the Department informed me it had moved but was unable to point on a map where it was now located. There was no sign on the door, no contact number -- just a desperate hunt in the heat for a relocated government office and a functioning ATM (you see, I had run out of cash that day because, due to an impending citywide strike, most cash machines were out of cash...but that's a story for another day).

On the bright side, I can now give one hell of a tour of Nepal's government buildings.

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The Ministry of Education, where incomplete information masquerades as help.


Sign outside the Ministry of Education. This should have been my first clue that navigating the bureaucracy might not be as easy as I had planned.


Department of Industry, if I never see you again I will die happy.


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The (relocated!) Department of Immigration where I had my heart broken repeatedly. A small piece of my crushed soul still resides here. I refuse to return to collect it.


Singha Durbar and the Home Ministry. How is it possible that you inspire emotions exactly opposite of the love, comfort, and safety that home is supposed to inspire?


Weeks of work later, I had properly advanced my application from my college to Kathmandu University to the Ministry of Education to the Home Ministry. Time was ticking down, as my tourist visa was due to expire in just ten days. There was still time, though, to pass the application from the Home Ministry back to the Ministry of Education and on to the Ministry of Immigration all before I would be forced to leave the country.

What could possibly go wrong?

See Part 2 for the answer.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Chasing a Student Visa in Nepal: Part 2

If I were going to avoid a Nepali paper marriage situation, then I had eight days left in the month of February to register for class in order to secure a student visa. No problem, right?

Famous last words.

Accompanied by my friend and one of her Nepali coworkers, I went to a bank to open a banking account -- the first step of the registration process. In order to register for class as a foreign student, you must set up a local banking account, preferably in U.S. dollars, and deposit a fairly significant sum of $3,000. You must maintain this balance only for the registration process.

This requirement seemed a bit funny but not entirely crazy.

No, I soon learned what entirely crazy would be. Entirely crazy would come in the form of the bank representative's response when I told her that I wanted to open an account: "You cannot open an account with a tourist visa."

[Um, excuse me?]

I tried to hide my frustration with the thin smile that I give to anyone who annoys me. "But ma'am, I do not understand the order of events here. I was told that I must have a local bank account in order to register for a class and to obtain a student visa."

Ten minutes and four bank staffers later, we came to a compromise. It was as if the bank staffers had never encountered this issue before, but clearly they must negotiate said compromise with each and every would-be foreign student. The compromise was this: I could open an account and deposit money, but I could not withdraw any funds until I returned with my student visa in hand.

Okay. At least we were getting somewhere. I sat down on a bench in the crowded bank and began filling out application forms. I had to provide both my father's name and my grandfather's name (but no, Mom, you are not considered important enough to vouch for my identity). Of course, I had to provide the standard information too, like my own name, birth date, phone number, and map of where I live.

[Wait. I have to draw a treasure map to my house?]

Yes. Without a reliable street naming system in Nepal, or -- you know -- addresses, the bank requires account holders to submit a hand-drawn map marking their home. Mine looked something like this:

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With my bank account set up and bank statement in hand, I set about to register for class. First, this required a trip to another bank where the campus keeps an account; there -- and only there -- I had to deposit my tuition fee.

"Do you have a deposit slip for the campus?"

"No. Won't any deposit slip do?"

The bank teller looked at me like I was the crazy one. And I was beginning to think that I was.

Eventually I procured the proper deposit slip from the campus itself, paid my tuition, and returned to the campus to register for class.

"What is your caste name, madam?," the registrar asked.

"My last name is Emeott."

"No, your caste name."

[Well. This was a new one. If we are going to be technical, sir, then my "caste" name would be my maiden name. But you already noted that. Twice. When you asked for my father's name and my grandfather's name.]

Deciding not to be difficult, I told him that my caste name is Emeott. Then I paused while I pondered what kind of caste that would be.

Ultimately, registering for class and obtaining a visa letter from the Ministry of Education required five separate trips to the administration office at the campus.

Miraculously, obtaining my actual student visa required only two separate trips to the Immigration Office. I felt spoiled. Lucky. I felt like cheering!

A paper marriage was averted, though I still got myself a caste name. For a visa? -- worth it.


Thursday, January 20, 2011

First Day in Kathmandu

At Tribhuvan Airport I sailed through the visa booth (traveling tip: bring extra passport photos for your visa-upon-arrival) and headed down to baggage claim to collect those three monster bags for which United Airlines kindly did not charge me.


Apparently my good baggage karma did not follow me all the way to Kathmandu, however, because I received only one of my three bags. Several other people on my flight were also missing their luggage, so, after about 30 minutes of much confusion and a suffocating scrum around the one poor soul at the baggage claim desk, I learned that my bags would likely arrive on the next flight from Bahrain in the evening.


At one point during this loud huddle – which did not seem to faze the baggage claim gentleman in the least – I pulled my head out of the din to figure out where a strange chirping sound was coming from. I don’t know what I expected, exactly – perhaps an inappropriately loud cell phone ring or a strange soundtrack on the speakers – but I have to say that I was not expecting to see a stack of crates containing small birds just over my right shoulder. The crates created a stack about ten feet high and were left in the middle of the baggage claim area unattended. I’ve got no answer for you on that one.


My old friend Tenzing picked me up at the airport in his Suzuki, which is less fun but more practical than his motorcycle for carting luggage. It was great to see Tenzing, whom I met in 2003 when I first traveled to Nepal for my thesis research in college. We had lunch – at my request, the Nepali “national meal” of dal bat, which is a plate of lentils, vegetables, spicy pickle, and rice.


Then Tenzing dropped me off at the house of my dear friend Heather, whom I also met in 2003 when I overheard her American accent in the local market. Heather and her husband Maika live in a quieter, more village-like part of the city. I always had fond memories of their house from our trip in 2008, when we stayed with them for a couple weeks. Their house is just as I remembered – big, bright, airy, and sunny:


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The house is also, at least for the remainder of the winter months, very cold. This is true for any house in Nepal, which does not have central heat. Although the temperature outside may be in the 60s in January, the buildings stay cool here because they are not insulated. This will be great in the warm months, but it will take some getting used to, as I trend on the cold side even in July.


Two extra clothing layers and four cups of tea later, I had warmed up and caught up with Heather. Then Tenzing picked me up in the evening to take me back to the airport, which had called to notify me that my luggage had arrived at 6:30 PM. But, we could not pick it up until 9:30 because the customs officials were “taking dinner.” Aside from the fact that this is a strangely long dinner, I was not so surprised by this final little impediment standing between me and my luggage (and more layers of clothing please!). Such is life in Nepal – as with those chirping birds, you just have to shrug and smile.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Guide to the Annapurna Circuit Trek: Part One

At 150-miles and filled with stunning views of the Himalayas, the Annapurna Circuit trek has become one of the world's legendary treks. A controversial road being built along the route has caused great lamenting about the Circuit's ruin, but the truth of the trail is complicated and ever-evolving. The road has been completed along what was traditionally the second half of the Circuit, and over the last handful of years this road and its traffic have effectively halved the traditional route for most trekkers. A road is currently under construction along the first half of the Circuit, creating fears that this remaining section of the trail will also be spoiled once the road is complete around 2012.

As the road brings development along the trail, the experience of the trek evolves. This is why we thought an accounting of our experiences might be helpful to others currently considering the trek and searching for the most up-to-date information.

But the trek is so much more than the road, at least for now. We'll certainly cover the road in more detail later in this guide, but for now suffice it to say that we found large sections of the trek totally unspoiled and amazing (while others, in our opinion, may in fact be skipped).

Arrival in Kathmandu

It is likely that you will begin your adventure in Nepal's capital of Kathmandu. We suggest you stay in Thamel, the main tourist hub of the city. From there you will be in easy walking distance of everything you need before taking off for the mountains, including access to just about any last-minute provision or piece of equipment a trekker could desire. More on this later when we post separately and in detail about preparing for the trek.

Thamel has hundreds of options for lodging. If you're looking for an affordable sure bet, try the Kathmandu Guest House. It has a range of room types and prices and acts as one of the major landmarks for giving directions in Thamel (since there are basically no street names or addresses).

One thing you must do in Kathmandu before leaving for the trek is to get the requisite permits, a TIMS card that registers you as a trekker as well as an Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) permit. You can do this when on the trail, but expect to pay twice as much. There are a handful of places in Kathmandu where you can get these documents, but we went to Bhrikuti Mandap (Tourist Service Center), which is about a 20-minute walk or a short cab ride from Thamel. This location allows for a "one stop shop" trip where you can get both your TIMS and ACAP permit, and as an official tourist center it feels pleasant and legit. If you're getting your documents in Thamel, beware scams and rip-offs. It will take a number of passport photos (three, I believe, but have more on hand to be safe) and photocopies of your passport to receive these documents. The TIMS costs 1450 NPR (although we've heard it is unnecessary if you have a valid non-tourist visa in Nepal) and the ACAP permit costs 2000 NPR. The process took us less than 20 minutes because there were no crowds or lines when we went (but I can imagine these lines could triple the length of your trip in high season). I can't promise that you similarly won't encounter any lines, but I can give you these tips to speed the process: bring sufficient Nepali rupees in cash and bring both your passport photos and photocopies of your passport. You can get both photos and copies at booths and shops around Kathmandu, but it might be wise to come to Nepal with a stash of both to save yourself the time and hassle (and maybe money). For any traveler, it is a good idea to have a stockpile of passport-size photos since they seem to be frequently necessary in other countries, whether applying for visas, permits, or a cell phone number.

Before leaving Kathmandu, choose your meals wisely since you will be at the mercy of teahouse menus for the duration of your trek; this is your last chance for more variety beyond the traditional Nepali meal of dal bhat (cooked lentils, rice, curried vegetable, and pickle), chowmein, and other noodle and potato dishes. We like OR2K for excellent and authentic Mediterranean food. Don't miss their pita bread, better than most I've had in the US. Northfield Cafe is a good if inauthentic place for Mexican if you're in the mood. Gaia Cafe has an excellent and very inexpensive veggie burger. There are a couple of (surprising) places for real, decent coffee (like Lavazza) on the trail, but if you're a fan of the joe you'll likely be drinking Nescafe powder mixed with hot water for the duration of your trek. Given that fate, load up on authentic coffee and your complicated caffeine concoctions at one of two local Himalayan Java locations in Thamel. One location is on the second floor at the intersection just south of Kathmandu Guest House and the main location is on the second floor on Tridevi Marg, just across from the place for Nepal's best pizza, the famous Fire and Ice Pizzeria. Perhaps better is Cafe Kaldi in Thamel's pedestrian-only Sagarmatha Complex/Mandala Street. This Japan-based international chain serves superb coffee, bubble tea, and smoothie drinks and provides free Wi-Fi (Himalayan Java, are you listening?).


Annapurna Circuit trek map, courtesy of nepalguidetreks.com


Day One: Kathmandu to Bhulbhule

This is not going to be the best day of your trip. At least, it wasn't our favorite. You'll be taking a bus from Kathmandu to either Besi Sahar or Bhulbhule to begin your trek. Depending on your timing and choices, you may get some trekking in and consider this "Day One" or you might just consider this a transport day that gets you to the starting line.

There are a number of ways to get to Besi Sahar that we know of. Pick your poison.

1) Local Bus. Go to Kathmandu's "New Bus Park," also known as Gogonbo Bus Park, which is to the north of downtown (the wrong bus park is more in the thick of things, not too far from the Tourist Service Center). Get to the bus park early, as your ride will be around 8-10 hours and the ride is less scenic and generally less enjoyable and safe after dark. Buses to Bhulbhule depart the bus park about every two to three hours. This option is not for the faint of heart. Especially for those new to Nepal, trying to sort out getting on the proper bus could be a chore. The New Bus Park is not a very tourist-friendly location, and I hate to imagine spending hours there waiting in uncertainty for a bus with no reliable schedule. Then again, I schedule casual meetups with friends with Swiss precision, so perhaps I am biased on this point.
2) Tourist/Direct Bus. We were told there is no tourist bus to Bhulbhule. Our bad experience just may have proven this statement true: a local travel agent in Thamel sold us tickets, $12 each, for a "tourist bus" to Bhulbhule departing from Sorhakhutte, very near Thamel, at 7:30 AM. Everything started fine enough with our bus taking off on time and partially filled with eager trekkers like ourselves. But instead of hitting the road, we headed to the New Bus Park. We stopped there for a long while for some apparent repairs but also to pick up locals. After that annoying delay, we took a spin down the street adjoining the bus park and picked up more locals. We proceeded to wander around Kathmandu, repeatedly stopping and trying to pick up enough locals to fill the bus. I have nothing against locals or sharing a bus with them, but I did not enjoy spending time picking them up when I had paid for a supposedly direct bus ticket. We were delayed two hours departing the Valley and delayed numerous times along the trip (especially near the end) as we stopped to let people on and off the bus in a frustrating door-to-door service of sorts for any Nepali within two hours of Bhulbhule (more than you'd think). All of that said, we think getting a tourist bus would be the best option, if you could ensure that it is in fact a direct tourist bus for which you've signed on. And, while we ended up on essentially a local bus, I preferred doing so by this method (having a secure ticket and departure point and time) to my showing up at the New Bus Park hoping to get on whatever bus happened to be leaving for Besi Sahar that morning (says the control freak).
3) Tourist/Local Bus Hybrid. Greenline is an excellent, reliable tourist bus company that operates routes between Kathmandu, Pokhara, Chitwan, and Lumbini in Nepal. You can arrange with them to take their bus from Kathmandu to Pokhara but to let you out at the town of Dumre, about two-thirds of the way through the trip. At Dumre you can supposedly catch a local bus up to Besi Sahar. Just when that bus will arrive and what shape it will be in and whether there will be room for you is unclear, however, and this is why we did not choose this option.
4) Private Hire. There is always someone willing to drive you anywhere from Kathmandu if you ask around. It will come at a pretty steep price, though. If you have some mates willing to split the cost and are willing to splurge, this may be the easiest and most pleasant option.

Upon arriving in Besi Sahar you can start your trek and walk the approximately two-and-a-half hours to Bhulbhule, take a jeep to Bhulbhule, or stay in Besi Sahar for the night and begin your trek (by foot or jeep) the next day. We don't suggest planning to stay in Besi Sahar if you can avoid it -- this is one reason to leave Kathmandu and arrive to Besi Sahar as early in the day as possible.

We left Kathmandu at 7:30 AM (well, we probably exited the Valley finally around 9:30 due to our local bus adventures) and arrived a kilometer outside of Besi Sahar around 2:30 PM. It was about an hour before our bus driver finally informed us that instead of continuing to Bhulbhule (as we had planned) or even Besi Sahar a stone's throw away, the bus would be going nowhere due to a Nepali bandh (political strike). So, we strapped on our packs and began the trek. It took a bit to find the trail head after walking through the (unimpressive) city because we were not dropped at the typical trek origination point. Due to the bandh, jeeps were not an option for us, but once on the trail in earnest around 4 PM, we didn't mind. The scenery was already a welcome break from our urban jungle in Kathmandu, and we were quite relieved to be off a hot, crowded, bumpy bus with a driver we had learned to loathe.

In retrospect, though, the scenery was completely mediocre compared to the vistas we would be treated to in the coming days. This coupled with the thought of having to trek on a dusty road competing with jeeps shuttling back and forth to Bhulbhule makes us think that a jeep might be a good idea for getting to Bhulbhule (especially if you arrive a bit late to Besi Sahar and don't want to stay there for the evening). Thanks to the complications of Nepal's fledgling democracy and a countdown to a new constitution, we didn't have the jeep option and didn't have to deal with jeeps as we walked. A blessing in disguise?

After about two hours, we hit what we thought was Bhulbhule, but was instead Khudi.

Day 1: Besi Sahar to Bhulbule

I was getting grumpy at this point. It was a long, hot, frustrating day on the bus, and I wasn't thrilled that my trek began about a three-hour walk earlier than anticipated. Plus, as a total novice to backpacking, I hadn't properly adjusted my pack, which now felt more like a sack of bowling balls than a couple of week's worth of trekking supplies. If this pack felt excruciating already, how would I ever make it to the Pass days hence? Maybe I could lighten my load by digging into the Snickers I had packed...? Like any amazing wife, Claudine seemed to intuit my struggle (or was my groaning becoming audible?) and, no stranger to trekking with heavy packs, gave me some strap adjustment tips. To all of you new trekkers out there: tighten your pack's waist straps!! I neglected to do so and was carrying all the pack's weight on my shoulders instead of distributing it to my hips and legs. For the remainder of the trek, I found that minor aches and strains on my body could often be cured with a bit of strap adjustment. After proper adjustment, my pack was completely comfortable. A few days into the trek, I ceased to notice it on my body.

Finally, just as dark was setting, we arrived in Bhulbhule, which straddles a river. We completed the obligatory registration with our permits at the first ACAP check post and decided to cross to check out the teahouse accommodations across the river. Sleeping accommodations along the trek are called teahouses because they originated as teahouses that housed the original trekkers who braved the Circuit when it was first developing. Compared to camping, the teahouses are plush, providing beds, shelter, a toilet, shower (usually), and a restaurant. Compared to a typical motel or hotel, though, they can be a bit frightening -- no one warned me just how rustic they would be. Like with altitude, I quickly acclimated to the scene, but if the thought of a common squat toilet (aka "squatty potty") really freaks you out, you're in for a trip. Speaking of trips, this was the bridge we crossed in Bhulbhule, clearly a stand-in of sorts since another nearby bridge site appeared to be either in a state of construction or recent destruction, and we had to scramble down a steep unmarked path to reach it.

Day 1: Besi Sahar to Bhulbule

After a long, exhausting day of travel, we had reached our first destination. Welcome showers and dinner were all we could manage before passing out at our first teahouse of many, dreaming of the mountain peaks that awaited us now that we were on our way.


Continue Reading: Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, and Tips of the Trail.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Bridge Phone

Speaking of exchanging phone numbers and phone calls that have the potential to threaten my marriage, after three weeks in Kathmandu it became time to get my own phone here. I arrived to Nepal with my favorite new toy, the iPhone, excited to hear that it works well with cell networks and wifi here and that it might be a particularly useful tool for international travel (the excuse I used to justify the purchase). The same American ingenuity that birthed this wonderful device, however, also made sure it is "locked" and unavailable for use outside of the AT&T network, at least until someone more tech savvy than I gets his or her hands on the phone to "jailbreak" or unlock it.

Unfortunately, I have been informed repeatedly that no hacker has yet figured out how to unlock an iPhone 4 (version 4.2.1) from the US for use in Nepal. Techie friends, is this true? If so, I wonder just what the hackers of the world are so busy with that they can't crack this code. Finally I need a hacker to do something useful for me, and I feel totally let down. If you have any information on this unlocking business, please leave hints in the comments (and if you are a hacker, kindly avoid stealing my identity).

Not having a phone here at first was a bit disconcerting, nay, terrifying. After being tethered (nay, chained) to my Blackberry for over two years, it was a bit disconcerting at first living without constant access to email, GPS maps, and instantaneous weather reports that negated the need to ever actually go outdoors. But soon I came to realize that this no-phone business was all a bit liberating. For a reformed corporate drone, having no mobile device was sheer, unadulterated freedom. It felt downright illicit to be out of contact like that. This wasn't "I'm on vacation so please refrain from calling" good, this was "My phone was destroyed on vacation so you can't reach me and by the way I'm never returning so have a great life" good. Or, more accurately, "I don't own a phone, you and the rest of humanity cannot reach me" good. On the other hand, with no phone I couldn't give out my number to new contacts in Nepal, I had no lifeline in case of emergency, and (most important) my wife couldn't reach me on demand, so it came time to purchase a "bridge phone" to last me until the promised iPhone jailbreak.

This process was a bit more complicated than you might imagine. Correction: This process was a bit more complicated than you might imagine if you're not from Nepal. As I navigated the journey of procuring a new phone, people here announced things to me with such nonchalance that they clearly saw nothing out of the ordinary with what was coming out of their mouths. "The phone can be purchased here, but you can only get the necessary SIM card from a separate cell company office." "You can purchase that SIM card, but you must provide your passport, a photocopy of said passport and Nepali visa, a passport-sized photo of yourself, your employer, your parent or spouse's name, your grandfather's name (first, middle, last), and your thumb prints (left, right)." "You can wipe your ink-stained thumbs on the questionable-looking rag we provide for all our customers." "Now that you have your SIM card, your phone will only function if you purchase minutes which we do not sell here but you can find at most street-side convenience stalls."

But after all of that, I am now the proud new owner of a cell phone.

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Proud is the right word. How else could you possibly feel rocking a phone with the classic no-color screen that appears to have about 16 megapixels. With my ringtone set to Y2K electronic blippery, I am all set to impress my friends when they learn that this baby receives calls and texts. And it keeps time. That's about it.

So if you make it to Nepal, you can now reach me on my new cell phone. Just don't be surprised when I answer you from 1999.