COMMUNITY

Travel Writers: A Dangerous Night

by Bridie Ellwood

Location: Bhimphedi village, Nepal, south asia

“Tonight is a very dangerous night.” The words that we had heard earlier that day came flooding back as the first gunshot whistled past my window. Suddenly all the excitement, wondering and scare mongering that had been going on for the past couple of days disappeared and was replaced by a genuine feeling of fear.

Bhimphedi is a remote village situated in a lucious green valley with a river running through it. One road in, one road out. Small; yet full of life – at least it was until the curfew started. I never really expected anything to happen. This was where I had made my home, made friends, even got into a routine of regular day to day teaching, eating the traditional dahl baht, and meeting friends. It seemed strange that a place so warm and familiar could become so cold and distant in an instant, and when I opened the 2nd door of my advent calendar earlier that day to reveal a bell, I could never have imagined what lay in store.

Was it the Mauists? We’re they going to come to my house? I lived with the village chairman – a political figure. Would they come looking for him? The gun shots echoed around the valley, making it impossible to know where it was coming from. All I could do was sit and wait on a mattress deliberately placed on the floor – away from the windows, keeping silent, candle out.

Bhimpedi village, calm before the storm

Scared. Angry. Listening. Wondering.

The Nepali people are usually very early risers, but on the 3rd December 2001, it was unusually quiet. It was as if people weren’t sure whether they should go out or not. I kept listening for the patter of the children’s feet running past my door – peeping through the cracks in the worn, twisted wood. It never came. The sound of running water, scrubbing of pans, and the clatter of cups from the family teashop was yet to be heard. Even the cockerels were unusually quiet.

The first noise that could be heard was the steady sound of the heavy boots of the policemen as they ran through the deserted street, signing that the shooting was over, but this was the beginning of a new era.