Nepali bus crash

Accidents happen. We've all seen mangled cars and or overturned buses along the highway and thought I wonder if anybody died? or Thank fuck that wasn't me! In Asia, it's amazing these kinds of accidents don't happen more often the way these guys drive. Not that Asians are bad drivers, it's just a different style with the single goal of overtaking every vehicle on the way to your destination even if it means narrowly avoiding a collision every few minutes. I'll admit it, driving behind others is akin to waiting and I'm an impatient person. But I hate to be rushed too so if someone's on my ass, I'll happily let them take the lead as long as they don't slow down once in front of me.

Anyway, yesterday, I woke up in Nepal. Yessss, Nepal! Breath of fresh air. I walked back to Indian immigration, got my exit stamp and proceeded to the Nepali post, filled out the paperwork, provided the picture, paid the money and got the visa pasted in my passport. It was early and things were running smoothly. I went back to my hotel, packed my bags and found a bus headed to Kathmandu. There were three foreigners on this bus, a couple from Spain and myself. I found a seat behind the driver with a place for my luggage in front of me. This old bus was a dream compared to the piece of shit I took to the border the previous day.

Eventually, after numerous stops, including one in Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha, we were full and ready to go. I was drinking my water bottle filled with oral rehydration salts to prevent further anal leakage and playing with my iPod, which was on the verge of a dead battery. I decided to keep those ten minutes of playing time until later, when I could really use them. I couldn't see out of the front window as there were about four passengers sitting on this square 'bench' next to the driver, who was sitting on the right, as you do in Nepal.

We were moving right along when the driver braked suddenly. Everyone lunged forward, the front windshield's blue glass shattered inward, the bus veered right and rolled. As it does, everything happened so quickly and suddenly I found myself instinctively trying to brace myself, hold my head, whatever I could do and hope for the best. We came to a stop, upside down, people were all over the place, crying, moaning and diesel was pouring on my head from the tank, which was now over our heads. Apparently, the tank ruptured.

The accident.

I was fortunately still mobile, yes! I quickly got out to assess the situation and went back inside to just give a hand to help pull out a couple equally mobile, but stunned passengers. Everyone got out as far as I could tell. Meanwhile, the diesel continued to pour out on my luggage. One guy had a mangled foot. It looked repairable, but I was glad it wasn't me. He kept calling out Ambulance! Ambulance! Others were in shock, as was I and trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

The onlookers.

I had some blood on my hand and my shorts and wondered where it came from. A quick assessment of my body and I realized I had a cut on my head, but it didn't hurt and wasn't bleeding profusely. I went back in to take out my bags as other people were doing or had already done. At this point, traffic was now stopping in either direction and people were beginning to gawk as they do and get out to look and take pictures. The police came, eventually an ambulance and rickshaws peddling Buddha statues were also in attendance.

At the hospital.

There was only one fatality as far as I could tell - the man lying face down in a pool of blood. I initially thought he was on the bus, but later realized he was the bicyclist that apparently "caused" the accident or at least was the reason the bus driver slammed on the brakes. I'll probably never know. Poor guy. Somebody draped some clothing over his head even though there were still disrespectful onlookers taking pictures of his face, still partially visible, with their mobile phones.

Eventually, I was taken by pick-up to the government hospital in Butwal. The people were extremely friendly and we all got serviced one by one. My cut wasn't urgent so in time I was on the table getting jabbed in the buttocks with a sea of onlookers giggling at the whiteness of my cheeks. Then I got a tetanus shot in the arm. A nurse shaved a small patch around the cut and proceeded to stitch it up. Apparently there were four stitches. Then they put some iodine on some gauze and wrapped up my head to make it look far more serious than it really was.

No skull fracture.

The emergency rooms were in rather close proximity to the bathrooms, which reeked pretty badly. Can only make you wonder how sanitary the place is when you smell stale piss in the hallway. But despite that, we were well taken care of and they did everything they could. I had two skull x-rays to rule out a fracture. Our doctor was 23 years old and as I didn't need a heart transplant, I felt pretty comfortable in his hands. We were invited into the doctor's room for a chat over some chai before I left to find a hotel.

The iodine and head dressing that made me look lobotomized. 

The wee wound. Getting a new head dressing a day after.

I checked into the rather-pricey-for-Nepal Sindoor Hotel, a few minutes walk from the hospital. The doctor recommended it. At 1200 Nepali rupees (US$15) it was a bit steep, but after checking out the other two dives in the immediate vicinity, I considered it a bargain. Wifi, hot shower, clean room, it's a deal. I was the first foreigner to check-in since 17 March. I feel honored. Anyway, I'm still here in in Room 204 lounging on the bed after trying to scrub the diesel out of my bags. One more night and I'll be back on the road to Kathmandu tomorrow morning, fingers crossed.

The hotel was apparently built with the Nepalese in mind.

The town of Butwal, Nepal.