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Sunday, September 30, 2018

The best way to appreciate the less-travelled eastern Nepal live and eat with the locals


by GAYLE MACDONALD
The Globe and Mail

I arrived in Ilam, a verdant hill region at
the easternmost corner of Nepal, with no
clue of what to expect. But it wasn't
because I hadn't done my homework.

I'd signed up for a home stay with a family so I could learn more about the Nepalese customs and culture. I'd read about the district's vast tea gardens and rich wildlife, and I knew it relied on agriculture-not tourism like the rest of this mountain nation for its livelihood. But still I was unprepared to see, well, little else aside from a vast sea of green when the GPS announced we'd reached our destination.

My guide, Narayan, and I got out of the car, stretching after six, long hours on twisting, bumpy roads. Our eyes scanned miles of undulating hills, dense forest of Himalayan chestnut and pine, and tidy agro patches. But there was no sign of our host (or his home for that matter).

Narayan, who has led treks through most
of the mountain regions of Nepal including popular Annapurna and Everest, had never been to this less travelled part of his country before and he, too, was at a loss. Then, over the side of a ridge, a man appeared, ski poles in each hand.

"Namaste. Welcome to my home," says
Kedar Sharma, a 56-year-old journalist who lived in kathmandu in more than 30
years before returning to his home village
to freelance and run his fledgling home
stay business with his wife, Kirin. He
handed me a pole, warned the path was
slippery because of monsoon season, and
we started off. I gamely tried to make it
look like the trek to his house was a walk
in the park. All the while thinking, "What
have I gotten myself into?"

Illam, which borders the Indian state of
Sikkim and sits in the shadows of
Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world, gets very few visitors. Nepal's government is slowly trying to change that, but tourism infrastructure is negligible and most people still head to the tourist-friendly spots such as Chitwan National Park (where I rode elephants and saw rhinos), Pokhara ( a picturesque lake side city where I zip-lined over treetops) and Kathmandu (where the congestion and pollution is so bad, I couldn't wait to hightail it out of there).

llam's isolation, however, was a bit of
shock to the system. But after a soothing
cup of black tea and Nepalese khaja, or
small meal, l'd settled into the gentle
rhythms of the Sharma family. And over
the course of my stay, I gained an
appreciation for Nepal's rich and varied
cuisine, particularly after watching Kirin,
48, produce imaginative organic meals on
tiny two-burner stove with fruits,
vegetables and meat from her own garden
and neighbouring farms.

"We don't have snow-capped mountains to see and climb. We don't have snow-fed
rivers for rafting and kayaking," says
Kedar, 56, after we'd feasted on the house
specialty of tea-smoked chicken and dal
bhat the Nepalese staple of rice with
legume soup-curries and a wide variety
of fermented bamboos, soybean, dried
radish and pickles, "What we hope is that
we have something that appeals to a small number of tourists who are interested in Nepal's subsistence agriculture. I believe we attract people who are keen to learn about how most of the population of Nepal truly lives, and about our authentic cuisine."

I must qualify this by saying that I eat very little meat, so this region, with its rich soil and abundance of goods, turned out to be gastronomical treat made all the more special because I wasn't expecting it.

Like must nepalese people, Kedar and
Kirin are master fermenters, the soul of
Nepalese cuisine and a necessity, given
they don't have a fridge. I tried fermented
bamboos, fermented soybean, fermented
and dried radish, fermented leaves of the
brassica or mustard family, and a wide
varicty of fermented pickles, syrups and
jams. My favourites were tomato-trec jelly
and cherry silverberry jam, lathered on rice pancakes.

I also loved their homemade kombucha,
which gets it unique taste because its
SCOBY (symbiotic culture of bacteria and
yeast, sometimes called tea fungus or
kombucha mushroom) is soaked in
lukewarm black tea with sugar. It puts
anything on Whole Foods' shelves to
shame.

Their neighbors Zac Barton, who hails
from Alberta but has lived in llama since
2009, popped by one morning to chat
about his property, Almost Heaven Farms
(AHF), which he describes as entirely "food
secure."

"The most interesting part of our
agricultural system is that we need
absolutely nothing from outside. We keep
all our own seeds, produce all our own
compost and work the land by hand,” says
Barton, 39, who has four children with his
Nepali wife, Shova. AHF grows 74 fruit,
vegetables and spice crops, including
almonds, chestnuts, kale, kiwi, chia, millet, rice, mangoes, asparagus, jackfruit,
turmeric and a top seller blue ginger.

As with Kirin, Barton loves to experiment.
He makes kimchi, a wide variety of
sauerkraut and vinegars, including his
latest invention, pineapple vinegar.
“People who like apple cider vinegar will
love this,” he says enthusiastically. “It's
sweet, tangy vinegar.”

AHF also accommodates house guests,
attracting up to 100 visitors a year from
Canada, Germany, France, the Netherlands
and Britain.

"I moved out here after falling in love with
the place,” says Barton, who lived in
Kathmandu for six years before he opted
for a less populated and polluted place.
“The combination of tea estates, small
farms and dense jungles creates
landscape that just drips with diversity.
But I don't think East Nepal is ever going to be a hot tourist destination. The people
who come here do so for the culture, the
people and the food.”

Kedar agrees: “This is a place for people
who have already seen a tiger or been on
trek. Travellers come here to stay at farms, eat good, home-cooked meals and to better understand the daily life of a Nepali. You don't have to earn much to have a lot of riches here."

Your turn

There is no easy route to Ilam, which
fittingly means “twisted road.” Flights run
daily from Kathmandu to Biratnagar, an
industrial city that borders India. Don't
stop here; there is nothing to see. From
there, it's a five-hour car ride that will
rattle your bones. To break up the journey,
stop in Dharan and visit the Budha Subba
Temple, a famous religious shrine and
favourite spot for engaged couples and
newlyweds who tie beautiful threads on
fences surrounding towering bamboo
trees. The token is said to unite them
forever in true love.

Beware of monsoon season, which
typically runs from May through to
August. Excursions are primarily of the
make-your-own variety, such as strolling
through tea gardens, exploring the forests
with their wildlife, including many exotic
birds and the area's famed red panda, and
touring local bazaars such as nearby
Fikkal. Roadside stalls overflow with spices
and produce and the Nepalese snack,
chhurpi (a hardened cheese made out of
yak's milk). Mind your teeth.

There are very few hotels in Ilam, with
guesthouses and homestays being the
main accommodation. Don't expect
luxury. Sharma's Homestay
(kedar sharma@gmail.com) was simple,
but clean. A bedroom with half-bath (sink
and toilet) and three meals a day costs
US$35. The shower is shared. Almost
Heaven Farms (permaculturenepal.com)
charges US$15 a day.

Spectacular sunrises and sunsets can be
seen from Antu Danda in the backdrop of
the Himalayan ranges.

(The writer was a guest of the Nepal
Tourism Board. The organization did not
review or approve this story before
publication.)
(Photo: A Nepalese market sells chhurpi, a hardened cheese made out of yak's milk.)