GRAND RAPIDS NEWS
Trucker visits his grade school 'buddies' as part of pen-pal program
By Beth Loechler
WYOMING -- The 17 fifth- and sixth-graders in Barbara Konwinski's
classroom were all aflutter Thursday. Trucker Ed was coming to town.
"He's like Santa Claus, almost," Konwinski said of Ed Main, the
Tennessee truck driver who befriended Holy Name of Jesus Catholic
School six or seven years ago and visits there annually.
Along with stuffed toys, candy and other goodies, Trucker Ed brought
tales of his cross-country travels with Lucky Dog, the stuffed blue
canine that serves as class mascot. He writes -- and receives -- lots
of letters from the class. And through his stories and games, he all
but tricks the kids into learning math and geography and reading lots
and lots of books.
A third-grader once read 104 books so she could have her pick of the
oodles of stuffed animals he took to a school, Trucker Ed told the
group.
"That's a lot of books," he said.
Trucker Ed, 61, and his wife, Linda, 54, arrived Thursday with three garbage bags full of toys to be
awarded to students who do their best. He doesn't buy them; he wins them for the kids.
"I'm pretty good at those claw machines," he said.
With a piece of yarn and some tape, students helped him trace the path he and his semi took since
school started early this month, all the while quizzing them on state capitals and loading them up
with trivia.
His home state is called the Volunteer State because it sent more than 1,000 men to in the War of
1812 and they performed admirably, he told the group. He recently stopped in Indianapolis, a place
known as the Circle City because a of it's built around a downtown traffic circle. Then he went east to
Beantown, or Boston, and also delivered fish to Music City, also known as Nashville.
Trucker Ed, who travels about 140,000 miles a year for Wisconsin-based Marten Transport, found
Holy Name of Jesus through Truckerbuddy.org, a nonprofit organization that links classrooms with
professional truck drivers.
"We feel special that he takes time to come visit us," said 12-year-old Maria Bedalla, who is no longer
in Konwinski's class but got permission to stop in and say hello. Classmate Dalia Cano, 11, said
she still has the green teddy bear he brought to the school on a previous visit.
"We're lucky to have Trucker Ed," agreed Principal Rose Fraga. Konwinski added, "He has a
wonderful heart."
| Veronica Aguirre, 11, plays with "Lucky Dog," who travels with trucker Ed Main, of Tennessee, to remind him of his pen pals in Barbara Konwinski's class at Holy Name of Jesus School. |
Knoxville News Sentinel
Nepal big adventure, wild ride for truck driver
By Linda Lange Sunday, September 23, 2007
Every aspect of life in Nepal interests Ed Main of Knoxville. With great curiosity, he inspected temples, marketplaces, eateries and neighborhoods.
With equal curiosity, he investigated truck stops.
Main, a truck driver by profession, made his second trip to Nepal this spring. He visited his daughter, Crystal
Main, a linguist conducting research on a Tibetan dialect in the Himalayas. She is a graduate of the University
of Tennessee. His wife, Linda, and son, Daniel, traveled with him to the capital city, Kathmandu.
To strike up a conversation with local truck drivers, Main distributed caps from Marten Transport, his employer.
“They offered to let me drive their trucks,” he says. The poor condition of equipment and roads caused him to
decline. “The last thing I wanted to do was have a clutch go out.” He complimented them on the highly
decorated truck interiors and enjoyed convivial conversations. “I truly have deep respect for these men. They
have to be good just to drive on their roads.”
He visited a truck dealership in Pokhara. “The office had the only computer I ever saw in a Nepali company. I never heard the sounds of power tools.
All work, including changing tires, was done by hand. They had something we’d never see in any shop — a cow laying down inside.”
Traffic is fast and chaotic. “They make turns across traffic by just turning, forcing oncoming vehicles to either stop or hit them. Traffic lines are
ignored. Passing on any side of a vehicle is the norm. They honk to announce their presence as they pass. I asked people, ‘If your horn and brakes
are busted, which one do you fix first?’ They all said, ‘Fix the horn. You can’t drive here without a horn.’ ”
Most businesses rely on transactions done with a handshake. Main shopped at marketplaces where semiprecious gemstones and other wares
were displayed on long tables. “I enjoyed jostling with the crowds. I loved getting the bargains.” He purchased silk scarves, jewelry, ceremonial
knives and a Tibetan wool cap.
The family splurged on a Mount Everest sight-seeing excursion aboard a twin-engine airplane. “This flight was not for the weak of heart. We
experienced a good deal of turbulence with the aircraft shaking for much of the flight. We flew east along the Himalayan mountain range, then back
west along it. I was truly impressed by the massive size of this mountain range,” he says.
“We kept saying, ‘This is not a vacation, but an adventure.’ ” This proved to be true when they went on a two-day jeep ride from Jomsom to
Muktinath. “This Annapurna ‘interstate’ is like no other road I’ve been on. We drove for several miles on this wide riverbed of rocks. The scariest
parts were the mountain switchbacks. The path was so tight that even this little vehicle had to back up to make turns.” Passengers banged on the
side of the Jeep as a signal to stop backing up. The road had no railing.
They passed ancient villages where people planted wheat and corn on small terraces cut out of the mountainside. “I thought that farmers could fall
like a Slinky going from level to level.” Muktinath is a holy site for Hindu and Buddhist pilgrims.
He introduced a secondary school to his stuffed toy Trucker Buddy. The mascot Lucky Dog travels with him week after week and serves as a pen-pal
connection to a sixth-grade class in Michigan. He told the Nepali pupils about American schoolchildren and asked questions about their lives. He
shared questions posed by the Michigan class, such as “Is there a McDonald’s or Burger King near you?” “The answer is simple. The nearest
McDonald’s is in India, but you can’t buy a Big Mac there because cows are sacred, so they serve only chicken sandwiches.”
Kathmandu receives floods of tourists from around the world. Restaurants try to please the different palates. “They make their own versions of
enchiladas and tacos by using their flavoring and spices,” he explains. “Vendors on the streets sell everything, not just food. We heard them yelling
up to the windows, telling the people what they have available.”
In Pokhara, Main attended a worship service in the oldest Christian church in Nepal. “Communion was done in their own style,” he explains. Pita
bread and a thick citrus juice served as the sacraments. The juice flowed from a silver pitcher directly into worshipers’ mouths. “They sang in their
native style using their instruments. They stood up for about 15 minutes of personal prayer time. I noticed many of them shaking as they stood. It
was not anybody putting on a show, but a religious experience.”
Linda Lange may be reached at 865-342-6433. She is travel editor of the News Sentinel.
TRUCKER NEWS MAGAZINE
December 2006
By Rachel Telehany
Veteran truck driver Ed Main becomes a rookie again in the mountain country of Nepal.
Never in his wildest dreams did Ed Main think he would hear the words, “Welcome to Kathmandu.”
Main, a driver for Marten Transport based in Knoxville, Tenn., has spent the better part of his life on U.S. highways, hauling freight and talking to his
wife over the CB. His daughter Crystal, on the other hand, is a globe-trotting linguist who has lived in Nepal for nearly two years, conducting research
on a Tibetan dialect found in the mountains of Nepal. Crystal has traveled all over Asia, sending hundreds of pictures to her parents of the people,
the country landscape and the bustling city of Kathmandu.
Main and his wife Linda treasured these strange and beautiful photos from another world until finally, in June 2006, they left all the comforts of home
for a two-and-a-half-week trip to see Crystal’s new digs in the capital city of Nepal.
After an 18-hour flight, Main glanced out the window and realized, “This isn’t good old Rocky Top,” he says. “I looked down and saw monkeys on the
tarmac. I turned to my wife and said, ‘Uh oh, Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore.’”
Nepal is a small country bordered by China and India. In the midst of the Himalayas, Nepal claims 10 of the world’s highest mountains, including
part of Mt. Everest. The region’s breathtaking scenery of rolling hills, snowy mountain peaks and colorful Hindu festivals is a stark contrast to the
severe political unrest that has left Nepal one of the poorest countries in the world. Half of the population lives below the poverty line, and agriculture
sustains nearly 76 percent of the people.
Main, who had only traveled outside the country to Tijuana, Mexico, prior to his trip to Nepal, was amazed by the conditions of the roads.
“As a driver, you haven’t lived until you’ve had a taxi ride here,” Main says. “No street lines, no traffic lights, tiny roads and big potholes. And all the
while you have to keep your eyes open for any wandering cow on the roadway, because cows are considered sacred.”
Holy cows often lie in the road or on the sidewalk, an obstacle that increased Main’s respect for the Nepali truck drivers. In Kathmandu, Main
decided to meet up with fellow truckers to see what it’s like driving a rig on the winding mountain paths.
The young Nepali truck drivers greeted him warmly, Main says, and they were eager to show off their trucks, which are similar to old farm trucks —
five gears, no air-conditioning, no windows, tattered interior and floorboards — except for one thing: the trucks are painted up “like a pimp’s car,”
Main says.
Vibrant blues, yellows, greens and reds display paintings and English and Nepali words on the back, front and sides of the trucks. No two are alike.
“Every driver there was proud of his truck,” Main says.
The Nepali trucks are straight six-wheelers, made by Tata Motors company in India, two front seats and a bench backseat. The drivers pack each
truck with lumpers who start work when the driver arrives at his destination.
Nepali truck drivers make a salary of 4,500 rupees per month, which equals $60.54 U.S. dollars. Long-haul drivers who drive outside Kathmandu
also get a daily meal expense, about $1.45 U.S. dollars.
Driving in Kathmandu is fast and chaotic, with few rules about when to turn, pass and signal, Main says. The local drivers and pedestrians know the
rhythm by heart, but Main was stumped. Drivers in Nepal honk the horn constantly, he says. During a conversation with another American living in
Nepal, Main asked if the Nepali people could drive without a horn.
“The guy replied, ‘If your horn and brakes are busted, fix the horn first,’” Main says.
So when one of the drivers offered Main the chance to drive a local truck, he declined.
“They shift with the left hand, and there was a shoelace holding the wires,” Main says, laughing. “I’m just a rookie over there.”
To get a license, drivers have to take a written test and oral exam, as well as pay a fee of 1,500 rupees. The trucks never go faster than 30 to 35 mph
on the dirt roads, so Main says the truck drivers were amazed when he described his own 379 Peterbilt, using pictures and numbers when words
failed him.
“They speak trucking,” Main says. “It may be a lot different, but I felt like these guys were doing the same things we’re doing. I felt really comfortable
with them.”
The Nepali trucks don’t have to stop at weigh stations, but they do have to stop at checkpoints so government officials can make sure the trucks
aren’t carrying Maoist rebels, members of the Communist Party of Nepal established in 1994.
In 2001, the Nepali army began a campaign to combat the CPN, and the United States has also donated $20 million to the Nepali government to
fight Maoist efforts in the region. The European Union condemned the CPN for using child soldiers in guerrilla warfare, called the “people’s war,”
which involves strategic takeover of country villages to encircle the larger cities. An uprising in 2005 and monarchy instability allowed a temporary
rise to power for the CPN, quelled only when the king relinquished power and helped establish a parliament and a prime minister. The current
political climate in Nepal is still unstable as peace talks continue between the Maoists, the government of Nepal and the United Nations.
Main didn’t stay in Nepal long enough to get a clear political picture of the country, but his cultural impressions evoke vivid images. He describes the
bright yellow blessing scarves children wear on their birthdays, clear blue lake basins and the green roller-coaster hills below the mountains.
“Seeing the gentle green rolling hills reminded me so much of Tennessee, but then the contrast of the snow-covered peaks of the world’s tallest
mountains rose above them,” Main gushed in one of his letters to friends and family. “And I never tired of seeing the children all dressed in their
school uniforms, clean and polite.”
The Nepali primary and secondary schools are large gray buildings with gray concrete courtyards in the middle. The 58-year-old trucker loved
watching the Nepali schoolchildren row boats across the lake to school while he ate breakfast in a café in Pokhara. Main is part of the Trucker Buddy
Organization, which teams up truck drivers as pen pals for elementary classrooms all over the country in an effort to teach the children geography.
For Mrs. Konwinski’s class at The Holy Name of Jesus School in Wyoming, Mich., Main let the class mascot, a blue stuffed dog named Lucky Dog,
come along for the trip to Nepal.
“I carried that little blue dog in my carry-on bag,” Main says. “It was too important to the kids to chance it being lost in the luggage.”
Everywhere he went, Main took a picture of Lucky Dog on a busy street, monument, mountain or anywhere he thought the kids would like. When he
got back to the States, he mailed Lucky and the pictures to the class.
But how did Lucky Dog and Main like the Nepali cuisine?
“The tea was delicious,” Main says, describing a brew of bay leaf with a splash of milk. An authentic Nepali dish called dal-bhat is a dish of boiled
lentils served with rice, vegetables and spicy relish. Main also enjoyed the Coca-Cola, made with real sugar like the old days instead of corn syrup.
In his final letter the day he returned to the states, Main wrote, “Namaste, my friends. I got home this week from my vacation trip of a lifetime.”
In his letters home, Main described each experience with excitement and candor. The people are unfailingly friendly and hospitable, he says,
pressing their hands together and bowing to greet strangers, saying Namaste, which means, “I bow to the Divine in you.”
“When you go to their homes they will put huge amounts of food out and expect you to eat till you are in pain,” he wrote.
For a career OTR driver, his trip to Nepal was a sensory and spiritual experience. When asked if he plans to go back, Main smiles. “The idea is
getting stronger,” he says. “If I can go next year, I will. Plus, I’d like to spend some more time with the truck drivers.”
Nepal big adventure, wild ride for truck driver
By Linda Lange Sunday, September 23, 2007
Every aspect of life in Nepal interests Ed Main of Knoxville. With great curiosity, he inspected temples, marketplaces, eateries and neighborhoods.
With equal curiosity, he investigated truck stops.
Main, a truck driver by profession, made his second trip to Nepal this spring. He visited his daughter, Crystal
Main, a linguist conducting research on a Tibetan dialect in the Himalayas. She is a graduate of the University
of Tennessee. His wife, Linda, and son, Daniel, traveled with him to the capital city, Kathmandu.
To strike up a conversation with local truck drivers, Main distributed caps from Marten Transport, his employer.
“They offered to let me drive their trucks,” he says. The poor condition of equipment and roads caused him to
decline. “The last thing I wanted to do was have a clutch go out.” He complimented them on the highly
decorated truck interiors and enjoyed convivial conversations. “I truly have deep respect for these men. They
have to be good just to drive on their roads.”
He visited a truck dealership in Pokhara. “The office had the only computer I ever saw in a Nepali company. I never heard the sounds of power tools.
All work, including changing tires, was done by hand. They had something we’d never see in any shop — a cow laying down inside.”
Traffic is fast and chaotic. “They make turns across traffic by just turning, forcing oncoming vehicles to either stop or hit them. Traffic lines are
ignored. Passing on any side of a vehicle is the norm. They honk to announce their presence as they pass. I asked people, ‘If your horn and brakes
are busted, which one do you fix first?’ They all said, ‘Fix the horn. You can’t drive here without a horn.’ ”
Most businesses rely on transactions done with a handshake. Main shopped at marketplaces where semiprecious gemstones and other wares
were displayed on long tables. “I enjoyed jostling with the crowds. I loved getting the bargains.” He purchased silk scarves, jewelry, ceremonial
knives and a Tibetan wool cap.
The family splurged on a Mount Everest sight-seeing excursion aboard a twin-engine airplane. “This flight was not for the weak of heart. We
experienced a good deal of turbulence with the aircraft shaking for much of the flight. We flew east along the Himalayan mountain range, then back
west along it. I was truly impressed by the massive size of this mountain range,” he says.
“We kept saying, ‘This is not a vacation, but an adventure.’ ” This proved to be true when they went on a two-day jeep ride from Jomsom to
Muktinath. “This Annapurna ‘interstate’ is like no other road I’ve been on. We drove for several miles on this wide riverbed of rocks. The scariest
parts were the mountain switchbacks. The path was so tight that even this little vehicle had to back up to make turns.” Passengers banged on the
side of the Jeep as a signal to stop backing up. The road had no railing.
They passed ancient villages where people planted wheat and corn on small terraces cut out of the mountainside. “I thought that farmers could fall
like a Slinky going from level to level.” Muktinath is a holy site for Hindu and Buddhist pilgrims.
He introduced a secondary school to his stuffed toy Trucker Buddy. The mascot Lucky Dog travels with him week after week and serves as a pen-pal
connection to a sixth-grade class in Michigan. He told the Nepali pupils about American schoolchildren and asked questions about their lives. He
shared questions posed by the Michigan class, such as “Is there a McDonald’s or Burger King near you?” “The answer is simple. The nearest
McDonald’s is in India, but you can’t buy a Big Mac there because cows are sacred, so they serve only chicken sandwiches.”
Kathmandu receives floods of tourists from around the world. Restaurants try to please the different palates. “They make their own versions of
enchiladas and tacos by using their flavoring and spices,” he explains. “Vendors on the streets sell everything, not just food. We heard them yelling
up to the windows, telling the people what they have available.”
In Pokhara, Main attended a worship service in the oldest Christian church in Nepal. “Communion was done in their own style,” he explains. Pita
bread and a thick citrus juice served as the sacraments. The juice flowed from a silver pitcher directly into worshipers’ mouths. “They sang in their
native style using their instruments. They stood up for about 15 minutes of personal prayer time. I noticed many of them shaking as they stood. It
was not anybody putting on a show, but a religious experience.”
Linda Lange may be reached at 865-342-6433. She is travel editor of the News Sentinel.
TRUCKER NEWS MAGAZINE
December 2006
By Rachel Telehany
Veteran truck driver Ed Main becomes a rookie again in the mountain country of Nepal.
Never in his wildest dreams did Ed Main think he would hear the words, “Welcome to Kathmandu.”
Main, a driver for Marten Transport based in Knoxville, Tenn., has spent the better part of his life on U.S. highways, hauling freight and talking to his
wife over the CB. His daughter Crystal, on the other hand, is a globe-trotting linguist who has lived in Nepal for nearly two years, conducting research
on a Tibetan dialect found in the mountains of Nepal. Crystal has traveled all over Asia, sending hundreds of pictures to her parents of the people,
the country landscape and the bustling city of Kathmandu.
Main and his wife Linda treasured these strange and beautiful photos from another world until finally, in June 2006, they left all the comforts of home
for a two-and-a-half-week trip to see Crystal’s new digs in the capital city of Nepal.
After an 18-hour flight, Main glanced out the window and realized, “This isn’t good old Rocky Top,” he says. “I looked down and saw monkeys on the
tarmac. I turned to my wife and said, ‘Uh oh, Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore.’”
Nepal is a small country bordered by China and India. In the midst of the Himalayas, Nepal claims 10 of the world’s highest mountains, including
part of Mt. Everest. The region’s breathtaking scenery of rolling hills, snowy mountain peaks and colorful Hindu festivals is a stark contrast to the
severe political unrest that has left Nepal one of the poorest countries in the world. Half of the population lives below the poverty line, and agriculture
sustains nearly 76 percent of the people.
Main, who had only traveled outside the country to Tijuana, Mexico, prior to his trip to Nepal, was amazed by the conditions of the roads.
“As a driver, you haven’t lived until you’ve had a taxi ride here,” Main says. “No street lines, no traffic lights, tiny roads and big potholes. And all the
while you have to keep your eyes open for any wandering cow on the roadway, because cows are considered sacred.”
Holy cows often lie in the road or on the sidewalk, an obstacle that increased Main’s respect for the Nepali truck drivers. In Kathmandu, Main
decided to meet up with fellow truckers to see what it’s like driving a rig on the winding mountain paths.
The young Nepali truck drivers greeted him warmly, Main says, and they were eager to show off their trucks, which are similar to old farm trucks —
five gears, no air-conditioning, no windows, tattered interior and floorboards — except for one thing: the trucks are painted up “like a pimp’s car,”
Main says.
Vibrant blues, yellows, greens and reds display paintings and English and Nepali words on the back, front and sides of the trucks. No two are alike.
“Every driver there was proud of his truck,” Main says.
The Nepali trucks are straight six-wheelers, made by Tata Motors company in India, two front seats and a bench backseat. The drivers pack each
truck with lumpers who start work when the driver arrives at his destination.
Nepali truck drivers make a salary of 4,500 rupees per month, which equals $60.54 U.S. dollars. Long-haul drivers who drive outside Kathmandu
also get a daily meal expense, about $1.45 U.S. dollars.
Driving in Kathmandu is fast and chaotic, with few rules about when to turn, pass and signal, Main says. The local drivers and pedestrians know the
rhythm by heart, but Main was stumped. Drivers in Nepal honk the horn constantly, he says. During a conversation with another American living in
Nepal, Main asked if the Nepali people could drive without a horn.
“The guy replied, ‘If your horn and brakes are busted, fix the horn first,’” Main says.
So when one of the drivers offered Main the chance to drive a local truck, he declined.
“They shift with the left hand, and there was a shoelace holding the wires,” Main says, laughing. “I’m just a rookie over there.”
To get a license, drivers have to take a written test and oral exam, as well as pay a fee of 1,500 rupees. The trucks never go faster than 30 to 35 mph
on the dirt roads, so Main says the truck drivers were amazed when he described his own 379 Peterbilt, using pictures and numbers when words
failed him.
“They speak trucking,” Main says. “It may be a lot different, but I felt like these guys were doing the same things we’re doing. I felt really comfortable
with them.”
The Nepali trucks don’t have to stop at weigh stations, but they do have to stop at checkpoints so government officials can make sure the trucks
aren’t carrying Maoist rebels, members of the Communist Party of Nepal established in 1994.
In 2001, the Nepali army began a campaign to combat the CPN, and the United States has also donated $20 million to the Nepali government to
fight Maoist efforts in the region. The European Union condemned the CPN for using child soldiers in guerrilla warfare, called the “people’s war,”
which involves strategic takeover of country villages to encircle the larger cities. An uprising in 2005 and monarchy instability allowed a temporary
rise to power for the CPN, quelled only when the king relinquished power and helped establish a parliament and a prime minister. The current
political climate in Nepal is still unstable as peace talks continue between the Maoists, the government of Nepal and the United Nations.
Main didn’t stay in Nepal long enough to get a clear political picture of the country, but his cultural impressions evoke vivid images. He describes the
bright yellow blessing scarves children wear on their birthdays, clear blue lake basins and the green roller-coaster hills below the mountains.
“Seeing the gentle green rolling hills reminded me so much of Tennessee, but then the contrast of the snow-covered peaks of the world’s tallest
mountains rose above them,” Main gushed in one of his letters to friends and family. “And I never tired of seeing the children all dressed in their
school uniforms, clean and polite.”
The Nepali primary and secondary schools are large gray buildings with gray concrete courtyards in the middle. The 58-year-old trucker loved
watching the Nepali schoolchildren row boats across the lake to school while he ate breakfast in a café in Pokhara. Main is part of the Trucker Buddy
Organization, which teams up truck drivers as pen pals for elementary classrooms all over the country in an effort to teach the children geography.
For Mrs. Konwinski’s class at The Holy Name of Jesus School in Wyoming, Mich., Main let the class mascot, a blue stuffed dog named Lucky Dog,
come along for the trip to Nepal.
“I carried that little blue dog in my carry-on bag,” Main says. “It was too important to the kids to chance it being lost in the luggage.”
Everywhere he went, Main took a picture of Lucky Dog on a busy street, monument, mountain or anywhere he thought the kids would like. When he
got back to the States, he mailed Lucky and the pictures to the class.
But how did Lucky Dog and Main like the Nepali cuisine?
“The tea was delicious,” Main says, describing a brew of bay leaf with a splash of milk. An authentic Nepali dish called dal-bhat is a dish of boiled
lentils served with rice, vegetables and spicy relish. Main also enjoyed the Coca-Cola, made with real sugar like the old days instead of corn syrup.
In his final letter the day he returned to the states, Main wrote, “Namaste, my friends. I got home this week from my vacation trip of a lifetime.”
In his letters home, Main described each experience with excitement and candor. The people are unfailingly friendly and hospitable, he says,
pressing their hands together and bowing to greet strangers, saying Namaste, which means, “I bow to the Divine in you.”
“When you go to their homes they will put huge amounts of food out and expect you to eat till you are in pain,” he wrote.
For a career OTR driver, his trip to Nepal was a sensory and spiritual experience. When asked if he plans to go back, Main smiles. “The idea is
getting stronger,” he says. “If I can go next year, I will. Plus, I’d like to spend some more time with the truck drivers.”
