I know you're all wondering
But it wasn't me, I didn't kill the Nepali Royal Family
I'm home safe, on the good clean soil U-S-of-A
here's the story:

Nitin and I were trekking until Wednesday, May 30. Thursday we spent in Pokhara, a small tourist trekking town, and Friday we got the bus back to Kathmandu. Our plan was to spend the weekend sightseeing in the Nepali capital, then Monday afternoon we had a flight to Delhi. Friday night was quite normal, we bargained for a fan in the hotel room, ate at an Italian restaurant, rolled out our sleeping bags early; Saturday morning we wanted wake up early to go to Pharping, a small village on the outskirts of Kathmandu. There we could see sacrifices at the Hindu temple on Saturday the holy day, then spend the day in this village.

We woke up and left Thamel (the tourist area of Kathmandu) around 6 am and went out for a taxi. They were all asking 100 rupees for the trip to the bus park, which was odd but we couldn't find one taxi driver who'd take us on the meter so we just went ahead. On the way to the bus park, our driver was quite shaken-- he talked to Nitin for a bit, and Nitin turned to me with a sort of disbelieving look: "He's saying something about the Royal family being dead." Soon the driver motioned to our left, and there we saw large groups of people forming out in front of the royal palace. When we got to the bus park there were very few people, and when we heard the paperboys selling papers for 30 rupees a piece (instead of 3) we knew something really had happened.

On the trip to Pharping, Nitin gleaned from many different Nepali people that all they knew was that the entire Royal Family was killed the night before. They knew nothing else, except that there would probably be a curfew in effect at 10 am, and we should get back to Thamel as soon as we could. We stayed in Pharping for about an hour and then got on the bus back.

Right outside the Kathmandu valley, the bus suddenly stopped and everyone poured off. The bus driver was shouting at someone and Nitin said they were fighting about whether traffic could enter the valley. A cab driver came up to me talking furiously and I said, talk to Nitin, talk to him... before I knew it we were in a cab with four others on the way into town. We made it to our hotel and even out to an email place; we read the New York Times and CNN and learned that the Crown Prince Dipendra had killed his entire family over his choice of bride. We called home, told them we were safe, and headed back to the hotel.

All the shops were closed, taxis weren't running... King Birendra was very well loved in Nepal. It was under his reign that Nepal became a constitutional democracy-- Birendra surrendered power to the people under his own crown in 1990. The news was, Dipendra was in a coma but was the new King, and Birendra's brother Gyanendra would be acting king. Around 4pm, there was a funeral procession with the open bodies that went from the hospital to the cremation temple with bands and a parade. This parade went down the street in front of my hotel; I stood in the doorway with hundreds, thousands of nepalis up and down the street, hanging out every window and standing on every roof I could see, and together we watched the bodies of their King, Queen, and three others go by. The Nepalis cried out in grief and love, threw flowers. Before and after the procession, large groups of boys flooded the streets chanting "Haamro Raja, Haamro Desh, Pran Banda Pyaaro Chha" or as a Nepali explained to us, "Our King, Our Country; more important than our lives."

That night we waited two hours for food at a hotel restaurant and ended up with rice and bottled water around 10 pm; the waiter told me, "It's a bad day, that my King is dead." We went to sleep and hoped tomorrow we'd learn more.

Sunday was a somewhat normal day, except that many of the shops were still closed. First, we went to visit Nitin's homestay family where we met Samir. He explained something to me that I had been quite confused about: I had been asking myself, why are the Nepali people okay with Dipendra as King, if he allegedly did the shootings? Samir explained that he and many others didn't believe that Dipendra had done it, and instead suspected something with Gyanendra. Why was Gyanendra away during a family meeting? Samir asked. Why did Gyanendra's wife and child escape the whole ordeal? There weren't answers.

The Nepali television station and newspaper are run by the Nepali government, so all we saw or read about was the life of the dead king or an eerie film of the funeral procession from the day before. The Nepalis have very little information given them; I could understand their frustration and suspicion when I saw they learned the news from tourists and western sources.

The rest of that day, we just checked on our flight at the Royal Nepal office and it was to leave on Monday at 6pm; we went sightseeing in a fairly quiet Kathmandu and had a really satisfying dinner-- soo good. Afterwards I told Nitin, "That was so good, you can fly me out right now-- I'm ready to go." I shouldn't have been saying that as a joke...

Monday morning we went to Nitin's school to see if anyone was around. He hung out for a while and I went back to Thamel at 9:30 to do some shopping. The strange thing was, most of the shops were still closed-- We had expected them to open up again, as things were calming down. I found an open store and started to bargain, but while I was looking they started taking their stuff down and putting the merchandise inside the store-- "Hurry and decide, we're closing" they told me... I bought the stuff and headed back to the hotel. On the way, I stopped in the money changing place-- they were asking for an outrageous exchange rate, and I said I'd come back-- they told me they'd be open till four. Maybe they hadn't heard the news-- I went back to the hotel and meanwhile Nitin was also walking back though large crowds in front of the Royal Palace that had just heard that their new King Dipendra was dead and Gyanendra would be coronated that day.

When we met up in the hotel, we watched BBC and learned the news. We went to lunch and on our way out the restaurant was closed; the money changing place was closed; even our hotel was gated shut and we had to rattle the doors to get someone to let us inside. "Let's pack and get to the airport"-- we weren't planning to leave until 2:30 but we thought it'd be good to get out now.

We were on the road just after noon and the crowds were packed all the way to the end of our block (the Royal Palace was just a few blocks from our hotel). We turned away from the crowd and headed for another large street; three or four people started running our way and we held our breath; Anger and frustration was brewing among the people, and the mobs were just starting to react to the news.

We caught a taxi, one of very few on the road, and the fare would be 500 rupees for the trip to the airport, at least five times what it would be normally. Our driver took us down all kinds of backroads trying to avoid people, but even on those roads there were tents set up with pictures of the dead king and queen and people gathering around. A couple of times our driver had to head down different roads than he had intended: the way was blocked.

In between us and the airport was the temple in which the royals were cremated. As our driver approached the temple, he slowed and then stopped and got out. Nitin turned to me and said, "He said as soon as he drops us off, he's going home. It's too dangerous to be on the roads." I stayed in the car.

Suddenly, the driver got back in and turned to the right, going toward another street. But before we had travelled 10 feet, a huge crowd started running at us from that street, and the driver threw the car into reverse and gunned it around. We went in the exact opposite direction, right into the cremation temple complex.

The roads here were empty except for a few people and cows, and really bumpy as they weren't intended for traffic like us. We wove through the complex and finally turned back out onto the main road past the crowds. We were again headed toward the airport.

As people passed, they'd yell things into the car, and the driver said to them, "I'm going home, this is the way to my home." Soon, there were little kids with rocks running at us, threatening to throw them at the car if we didn't stop. "I'm going to have to let you off here," he said as he slowed in approaching a large group of people ahead. I felt so grateful to him-- we could see the airport ahead. We got out and started walking up the hill.

After we passed through the first crowd, I could hear voices chanting from far behind me. They quickly approached and we turned to a car and two trucks packed full with boys chanting for their King. I tentatively looked up at one of the trucks; most of the boys were looking up in the air, pumping their fists and shouting; but one looked at me and shrugged with a smile. I felt he was saying, Sorry, But this is something we must do... I felt safe, I knew they didn't care about me... I nodded, smiled, to tell him, it's okay, I'm just going to the airport...

Our flight was cancelled that afternoon with the riots. We heard the next day that two hours after we left the hotel, tear gas was pouring down that very street. We had to leave the airport that night, as there was a curfew in effect at 4pm. On our walk to the hotel a large truck with military men holding very, very large guns drove right past us... I was glad once we were inside.

We sat in our posh hotel (we paid $35 for that room! yeesh. that's approximately 7 to 16 times what we paid any other night, but hey, it had a tv, telephone, and sheets on the beds!) and watched BBC World and CNN Asia. I gaped at the clips of riots near the Royal Palace, "If my mom sees that she's going to think I'm dead!" We ate Rice and Lentils (that's all they had left, but they fried up some potatoes for me) and watched the military trucks cruise by outside our window until we finally fell asleep. The next morning, we woke up at 4:30 and were walking toward the airport at 5:15. Very few cars were on the road, and when we got to the airport there were about two security guards and 60 tourists and no one else. The screens claimed that a Royal Nepal flight to Delhi was leaving at 8:30 am, but by the time 6:30 rolled around there were still less than five people working at the airport and so Nitin left and went next door to the Royal Nepal office to see what was going on. He found out the flight was moved to the late afternoon, and we would have no problem getting a seat there. In the meantime, though, we decided to try to get on the Indian Airlines flight that left for Delhi at 2pm.

We were consumed by trying to get on that plane, any plane. Every moment was focused on finding more information and ensuring a seat. Nitin first made sure we were on the list for Royal Nepal ticket holders to transfer to Indian Airlines, and then he sat at the Indian airlines counter as soon as a line formed. Check that, I should say, as a mob formed. People were swarming the counter on all sides. I watched our bags and walked around gathering more information about what was happening. Around 11 we found out that the IA folks weren't sure if the flight would be leaving Delhi, there was another curfew imposed in Kathmandu at noon and so why would a flight leave Delhi for Kathmandu if the people wouldn't be allowed out? So I kept up with the Royal Nepal folks and they continued to insist their flight would be flying. Around 11:30 the Indian Airlines started checking in passengers, the flight was on the way.

As Nitin stood at the front of the counter, the IA guys kept insisting that we had to wait until all IA passengers were checked in. But right and left Royal Nepal passengers were being silently checked in, bag boys were being paid off, no one was writing down more names on the list that we had hoped would save us. Nitin kept insisting but I was really feeling defeated.

Around 11:40 I went to check again with Royal Nepal. I went to their back office and there were four guys in there talking with another lady. She and I kept asking one guy, Will the plane fly, When will it leave? He insisted the plane would fly, he just couldn't tell us when. I was so focused on this guy that something was happening and I hardly took notice: One of the other guys was opening the back window in the office and jumping out of it! After a few more minutes of arguing, we left the office wondering if the flight would really leave. Fifteen minutes later I went back to the office again and it was empty. I asked the Thai airlines guy in the next room, Where did the Royal Nepal people go? He was quite surprised to hear that they weren't around, he went with me to see the office was still wide open and all the lights were on but no one was inside. "They'll be back, I'm sure" he said, confused... later I realized they would have had to walk by the Thai guy's door if they were going to leave, unless of course they left by the back window...

And why wouldn't they? There was a curfew from noon to midnight, and as another Thai Airlines guy told me later, "Ma'am, I think they went home. I think they just wanted to go home."

We tried for two more hours to get on the Indian Airlines flight, and I kept losing faith, everyone else seemed to be getting on that plane but not us. I even asked one guy, "When are you going to the list?" and when he responded, "What list?" I gave up, I sat down on my bag, I folded oragami with a Korean woman and watched Nitin holding out our ticket yelling, List, please, go to the List...

and the Royal Nepal flight was still showing as not cancelled, but we knew better...

All of the sudden Nitin said, "Laura, Bags!" and before we knew it Nitin had Indian Airlines boarding passes and his hands were shaking. We ran to the security, where the line was quite long, we finally got to the gate and waited and watched as luggage went onto the plane. They started boarding us, we went through more security, we sat down in our seats but I felt no relief; I said, "Ok, now just one more thing has to happen..." and that's how I felt, I never knew what was going to happen next.

But the plane did take off, and it wasn't hijacked by Maoists, and though one of our bags was left behind in Kathmandu (it's still there, but they claim that it does definitely still exist) we still landed in Delhi safe. And now here I am in an owlnet lab. I had cheerios this morning! and I can drink out of the water fountain!

love,
Laura