Wildlife

It took me about a month to get used to the animal scene in Nepal, but I have since grown accustomed to walking alongside with cows, mangy dogs, chickens etc. However, this past week has been an adventurous one in terms of my interactions with wildlife.

I take a slightly different route while walking to school now, as I drop Shehrish off on the way. This Monday, we said our goodbyes, I put on my headphones and continued on, cutting through a different neighborhood in order to get to school. This route is a bit more rural, with goats and chickens running about, but as mentioned, after getting used to animals I pay them almost no mind. I was halfway through my detour and listening to music, when all of a sudden I hear a steady 'PAT-PAT-PAT' noise coming rapidly closer. I turn around to see a massively grotesque bird running towards me with wings spread and beak open that could only be described as a hybrid duck-chicken that was the size of a turkey. I walked a little bit faster, thinking that it was only feigning attack, but the mutated specimen continued gaining on me and began to hiss. At this point I was scared, and began running with a loaded backpack to avoid getting bit. I made it to the main road but lost a sandal in the process, and had to tiptoe my way back into the bird's territory to retrieve it.



School was off on Wednesday for a festival called 'Teej', a fasting day for Hindu women where they all wear red and honor their husbands. We were back on Thursday, and as the kids were sharing what they did on their day off, a big monkey jumped in the tree right outside our window and started to eat mangoes. The kids were excited and everybody flocked to the window to watch the monkey eat and jump around in the tree. I should have continued on as usual as monkeys can carry rabies and be fierce when provoked, but I was probably the most intrigued of anyone, having never seen a wild monkey outside of Swayambhunath, the monkey temple that I have previously talked about. All of a sudden, the monkey jumps out of sight. I quickly realize that it launched itself onto the patio where the artwork dries. The door to the outside is always left open to keep the floor cool, and I raced to close it to prevent the monkey from coming inside. I saw a big shadow upon getting to the door and realized the monkey was right above me. I slammed the door shut and ran into the third grade room to shut their door to the patio, as it is always left open. The monkey had jumped down and was three feet away from me as I slammed third grade's screen door shut. The students saw the monkey and went crazy, and the monkey came right up to the door to see what the commotion was. It eventually jumped back onto the roof and went on its way. Crisis averted.

Shehrish's house has recently been inhabited by a rat. Not just a normal rat, but one the size of a morbidly obese kitten. I want to buy traps, but Shehrish's mom is opposed to harming it and a conventional snap trap would probably only sting the neck of this gargantuan monstrosity. We were watching Boardwalk Empire on Thursday when it waddled into Sherry's room, causing her to scream and jump up on her bed. The rat skittered out, but that night I woke up at 3 in the morning and heard a thud on my door. Mr. Rat was outside and trying to get in. The crack between my door and the floor is small and realistically I knew it couldn't come under, but I still shoved my towel under the door to prevent the unwanted visitor. Last night, we got back from dinner and were watching TV when we heard a big crash in the bathroom. The rat was in my shower and had knocked over all of my soap and shampoo bottles. Shehrish's maid slammed the bathroom door shut, and the vermin was trapped inside the bathroom. Sherry and I went downstairs, shut all of the doors and opened the front door wide hoping that when we opened the bathroom door, Mr. Rat would scurry outside. The maid opened the bathroom door, and the rat beelined to the kitchen, realized the doors were closed, and proceeded its way up the stairs as Sherry and I sprinted to her room. We found the rat lodged between the bookcase, and Shehrish and her maid tried to get it out by banging the case with a big stick as I fearfully watched from Sherry's room. The rat didn't move, and we went to bed. This morning, Shehrish's doormat was shredded to bits, as if the rat was angry at her for messing with it. I currently am typing this in mild fear, as the rat is still at loose and we have found the majority of evidence of it in the computer room. If anyone has some tips for extermination, please share. As I did with the frogs, I have made my pleas for the rat to leave the house, but it has shown no signs of compliance thus far. Cat-sized rodents are serious business.

My Makeshift Chiropractor, Street-Level Game Theory, Girl Talk, EPL etc.

I recently received email from Blogger informing me that this blog nearly gets enough hits for me to sell advertising space on it. I consulted with a web-savvy friend as to how to make it more appealing to a widespread audience, and he told me to a) do more things in Nepal, b) put pictures from such adventures on the blog instead of telling people to Wikipedia them, and c) make it funnier. Doing more things is difficult when I'm working and I feel like I've done nearly everything noteworthy that is nearby. I've tried not to portray too many things in Nepal as 'shocking' or 'humorous' after being here for a few weeks, as I don't want to come off as disrespectful or insensitive, but if it leads to more viewership, which hopefully will enable me to sell ad space, I'm willing to throw caution to the wind. After all, money talks.

I haven't done anything particularly interesting since my parents left, so here is a blog that consists solely of observations and anecdotes from the last few weeks. As I mentioned, my web consultant told me to be funnier, so apologies in advance if I come off as trying too hard. I hope to grow my Finnish audience (where I have somehow gotten over 400 hits) and they just eat up my attempts at humor. I also am killing time while waiting for Tha Carter IV to download, so this one could run long.

-I went to get my haircut at the local barbershop early this morning, as Saturdays are when everybody seems to get their hair cut and I wanted to beat the crowd. My usual barber was occupied, so I was given the option of waiting or having his dad cut my hair. Being hungry and needing coffee, I opted for the latter. When he was ready, Barber Dad grabbed my wrist to pull me up and lead me to the chair. Unlike Barber Son, Dad speaks no English, so I had to rely on signs to communicate. I was expecting to come out of it looking like a solider, but he did a nice job. He broke twice for tea and a smoke, but whatever, I'm only paying Rs.100. The problem came after the cut. Barber Son always gives me a rough, post-cut massage that leads to soreness; Barber Dad proceeded to attack me with a hammering, spinal cord-relocating assault that brought tears to my eyes and has locked my neck at an awkward 10:00 position. I paid my money and staggered back home, only to find two cows grazing on opposite sides of the road, blocking my passage. When this happens, a car usually comes and they move, but it was early and there were no vehicles to be seen. The roads in Baluwatar are probably no more than eight feet apart, and I wasn't about to hit a cow to move them. A fruit guy comes by, sees my predicament, and proceeds to pelt one of the cows with stones, eventually causing it to trot away, but not before soiling the road with a trail of excrement.

-Sundays in Nepal during monsoon season give monotony a whole new level of meaning. Everybody sleeps in to recover from the weekend festivities, gets up late morning and than lazes around until lunch, where we all gorge on some combination of rice, legumes, leafy vegetable and grisly meat for the carnivores. Afterwards, I usually try to take a nap, but piano lessons are going on, and some kid is always repeatedly struggling through the same basic piece, which makes sleeping impossible. This past Sunday, there was a break in the rain, and Shehrish and I went to see Captain America (in 3D!) at the old theatre. Superhero movies have unfortunately destroyed most of my positive childhood memories of collecting comic books and Marvel cards, but at least The Red Skull was present as the antagonist and the producers took advantage of 3D technology by having Captain America throw his shield at my head a few times. There is always intermission at movies in Nepal, so I went to the heavily populated mens room to relieve myself. While standing at the urinal, I hear a voice shout out behind me:

"That's my sir! That's my sir!"

Recognizing the voice, I turn my head to see three of my students waving and pointing at me . The rest of the men in the bathroom start giving me menacing glares, probably confused as to why children are yelling at me while I'm urinating. To make matters worse, one of them came up to me and asked me what I thought of the movie thus far while I was still in the process. I couldn't really ignore him, so I said I thought it was 'cool', whatever, finished my business and booked it on out of the bathroom. One of the kids than offered me some of his Swedish Fish, but I politely declined.

-I think I'm close to mastering the art of haggling with cab drivers. If I'm with Shehrish or any Nepali person, the drivers will usually just run the meter, but when I walk up solo, they see glimmering white flesh and start drooling over how much to gouge me for. Here's an example:

I need to get to Lazimpat, which on meter from Baluwatar is about Rs. 85-100, about $1.25 USD, on meter. I sidle up to a cab, make sure to slowly enunciate my desired destination (twice I've said 'Baluwatar' and ended up in 'Boudha'), and the driver subsequently motions for me to get in. I used to always fall for this and than ask price, but have learned to wait, as they know that I'm unlikely to jump out once they start driving. A typical exchange in a populated area:

Kyle: 'Kati ho?' which roughly translates to 'how much'. If I start with Nepali, they're less likely to hose me, although it probably doesn't matter.

Cab Driver: 300. They usually start with three times the metered rate. I used to fall victim to immediately converting to the dollar, but have since learned the market and know the rates. If they give me a tripled rate, I'll just walk away. If they follow me, I will haggle them hard, as I know they're desperate for money and I'll subsequently lowball him with an offer of 100. If they don't I'll just hit up another cab, but they usually do and counter with 125-150, and depending on my mood and the condition of the car, I'll bite. I have to get from A to B, and don't really mind paying the white tax. This move works in populated areas, as they know I can just ask another car and get my desired rate. If the area is empty and there are no other cabs nearby, I have to resort to different methods:

Kyle: Kati ho?
Cab Driver: 300

If the area is empty or the weather is rainy, the power shifts to the driver, as he knows I'm the desperate one and will likely pay more. The walking away move doesn't work here. I used to try it, but it always ends up in walking back to the cab and then really coughing up, as you're essentially conceding defeat. The power move is to assertively decline, and say something like 'I know the rates, I've lived here 5 months etc.' If they know English, this move has some moxie, but they usually don't understand, so I usually split the difference and counter with 150. The driver than counters with 175-200. I always used to give in here, but have since learned to break out the money as if to say 'This is all I've got'. Half of the time they give in, half of the time not. If not, I'm out of moves, and will either walk away and hope he follows or just give in to his offer, depending on various factors such as weather, the time etc. I used to 'lose' in these scenarios every time, but feel like I carry about a 65% 'win' rate, which must be good for a white person. These zero-sum games take place once or twice a day, and as my Nepali improves, I hope to fully get this game down pat and turn the tables on these hustling cabbies.

-I consider myself reasonably tolerant, and only find a handful of things to be unbearable (Nickelback, Friends and Israeli hipsters to name a few), but I can't really come up with a more unbearable scenario than how I spend my day from 10:40-11:00 am Monday through Friday: tea time in the teacher's lounge, which consists of myself and fourteen women, ages ranging from 25 to 50. The topics of conversation are always a rotating quintet of the following, which I've ranked from least to most insufferable to listen to. I'm not sexist, it just is what it is:

Movies; how (movie) was so cute, usually referring to the mid-90's atrocity that aired on HBO the night before.
-Food; cooking it, eating it, what is fattening, what has carbs, what causes gas etc.
-Clothes; (especially if somebody wears something new) which stores have sales, how so and so's sandals are soft, which brands are cheap/nice, etc.
Men; who likes whom, what this guy said, what it means, why are men like _______, etc. Overall gossip, overall awful.
Me; Being the only male, I get a lot of unwanted attention pertaining to my clothes, something I said/did, how I don't eat meat, when I'm getting married etc.

The conversation is a mixture of 90% Nepali/10% English, which enables me to block out most of it and focus on my Sudoku puzzle until I'm interrogated about one of the five subjects. As of late, I've been grabbing my tea and going up to the classroom to dish on Dragonball Z or have the girls teach me Nepali phrases. Which would you prefer?

Hope all is well, I will add pictures and update the template to sexify the blog soon and hopefully sell ads.

*Soccer Disclaimer - the rest is all soccer*


-Soccer is finally underway, and I have already spent countless hours watching EPL, Europa League, UEFA qualifiers etc. Sherry begrudgingly accompanies me to the Irish Pub and sits through hours of English football. Her favorite team is Man City, as "they're the only team that's fun to watch and they have nice jerserys". In America, matches come on at 7 am and you only get about 2 games a day unless you have a soccer package, and one of them is almost always Man U beating up on a weak sister team. In Nepal, games start around 5 pm and last until midnight, absolute prime time for sports enjoyment. The only obnoxious thing is that EVERYONE likes Barcelona in La Liga, AC Milan in Serie A and either Man U or Arsenal in EPL, which makes for the composite bandwagon idiot fan that is impossible to talk to. I only got into soccer a few years ago and am still learning the ropes, but have greatly benefitted from the blunt, harsh commentary of the British/Indian pundits. Unlike ESPN mouthpieces who usually sugarcoat criticism, these guys will straight tell it like it is and rip teams and managers apart. They also break down games according to the gambling lines, which is infinitely more interesting than simply hearing people pontificate on who will win. I love learning why a team will/won't cover a goal differential, and the breakdown of props is great. If I still made wagers, Man City winning EPL at 9/2 seemed really juicy. Here's to Liverpool and Man City losing but Suarez and Silva still individually killing it for my fantasy team. RVP, start scoring goals or I'm dumping you for Rooney or Bent. Oh, and go Chelsea. Not a great first couple of games, but already looking good enough for at least third. The Torres/Drogba issue is annoying, as Drogba, along with being the nemesis of Man U, is why I started liking Chelsea after I gave up on Arsenal for selling Henry-A.Cole-Adebayor and more in the first few months of my following soccer, and I have always hated Torres. He ruined their chances in UEFA last year and cost Ancelotti his job, and has now given Chelsea a Man City-like dilemma of which strikers to play. Anelka will probably be chopped, which is unfortunate as he and Drogba play well together. I hate Kalou and have never seen him play well, but he gets a lot of minutes. Midfield looks a bit suspect; I'm not too fond of Ramires and miss the days when Lampard was world class. Hopefully Mata adds some punch. I must say, though, it's great being a fan of a team that is owned by a corrupt Russian oligarch with unlimited spending monies. If only he had spent wisely and bought Aguero or Suarez. /endrant

Visa Dilemma, Changes, Hindi Films

Last week, I went with an employee from Sacred Summits to see a lawyer about getting myself a volunteer visa. Everyone thought that this would be a simple procedure, probably costing me a couple hundred dollars. Oops! The volunteer visa is apparently a complex series of payoffs and bribes and I would be at the mercy of a lawyer who knew I was desperate. I was told going that route could run me into the thousands. After the lawyer, we went to a nearby university to see if I could enroll as a student for the upcoming term, even though enrollment closed two months ago. They granted me admission if I was willing to pay $100 USD in juice, and could obtain the following things within the next few days:

-Transfer $1500 into a Nepali bank/open a Nepali bank account
-Pay them $500 for admission
-Get a 'no objection' letter from the US embassy
-Get a letter from the Ministry of Education
-Fill out myriad forms, applications etc.

All of this was to be done in about three days, as my tourist visa expired this Friday. I also had to juggle teaching and parent-teacher conferences all week. On multiple occasions I would teach, run around KTM getting various things done, come back for PTC's and leave again, etc. I spent two hours at the (amazingly nice) US Embassy waiting for an appointment only to receive a letter stating US citizens don't need 'no objection' letters. There was confusion at the bank over my signature; apparently it didn't match up with the signature in their database. My helper, whose English is rather poor, kept telling me "You make mistake with signature!" I thought he meant I signed in the wrong place, but eventually I had to copy my signature from a computer monitor to make sure it matched up. I tried explaining to the tellers that I sign 15 homework journals a day and just have a messy signature, but everyone was pissed off at the silly American. Amazingly, everything got done and we went to immigration yesterday only to be told they were busy, come back Monday. No worries; my guide 'knew a guy', and after greasing more than a few palms, I finally got my student visa on the day my tourist one expired. To say it was stressful would be an understatement; I think my blood pressure rose and I lost hair, as I never knew what was going on. Bureaucratic corruption is pretty awful, but it enabled me to get everything done when I was WAY past deadlines, so I can't really complain. I now have six months without visa stress, and extending a student visa is really easy. I celebrated by eating mixed chat and dosa at my favorite restaurant, getting boxes of 'ladoos' (Indian sweets) for my students and fellow teachers and downing more than a couple of beers last night while in Thamel. Oh, and I'm taking Nepali language, so hopefully I can finally understand what is said around me 90% of the time. I have mastered the art of tuning it out and pretending to understand what is being said.

Getting the new visa marks my fifth month in Kathmandu, and I spent a few minutes thinking about ways I've adapted:

-I prefer bucket showers over normal ones. Whenever I want to take a hot shower, I get cold water, and vice versa. I've solved the problem by always taking bucket showers from now on. You fill up a big bucket and just dump water over yourself with a cup. Sounds awful, but I've grown to love it. There's something really refreshing about pouring cool water all over your head, and you save the limited water supply.

-I can think metrically. You learn it in school, but I would guess most Americans are clueless when it comes to the metric system unless they have lived abroad. When people would tell me I had lost 'X' kg, I would thank them, but than have to go home and convert to see just how generous their compliment was. Everyone would whine about 40 degree celsius weather, but I just knew it was bloody hot. I still think in fahrenheit, pounds etc. but can quickly know what people mean when they use metric terms without having to mentally convert.

-I've picked up slang and head-shaking Having moved around the US, from Midwest to South and back, I have been always been quick to adopt colloquialisms and accents. I still drop 'y'alls', have been made fun of for having a southern twang and have been guilty of speaking in a Midwestern accent on numerous occasions. In Nepal, the English is more British, and I drop 'bloodies' left and right. Many people also use 'thing' often, as "I need to get thing" or "When are we meeting up with thing?" You know what you want to say, and people know what you mean, but you say 'thing' instead of the actual object or person. I am trying to get rid of this, as it's stupid, but do it often. Also, I think I've written about this in an earlier blog, but people connote agreement or 'yes' by shaking their head from shoulder to shoulder instead of up and down. I do it all the time, and it just felt weird to nod my head up and down like I used to do.

-I could (and do) eat 'dal bhat' everyday without getting tired of it. This could be because I became vegetarian and never get excited about eating, but I seriously could eat rice and lentils with 'achar', spicy sauces or vegetables, at every meal. It's filling and tasty and gives you loads of energy. I have lost tons of weight on this regimen coupled with running almost daily, but not in a proportional way. My face is much, much thinner, I no longer have a gut and can actually see two abs when I'm shirtless, but I still have love handles and MINOR extra weight around my biceps (I was looking for a way around calling them man-boobs) , which makes my otherwise thin chest look like clumpy mashed potatoes. I have read everywhere that the love handles are the toughest to lose, and am going to start doing yoga to try to get rid of them. I have been grinding out 50 push-ups a day for the last week or so, and am now nearly boobless. Always good to count your blessings, whatever they may be.

I went to a Hindi movie a week or so back with Shehrish and her family. It was called Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, and while I have no idea what that means, I am guessing it means something like 'life is beautiful' given how I perceived the tone of the movie. Through diligent concentration, I made it almost two hours before zonking out, about 1.5 hours more than I lasted in the newest Transformers movie. For the record, I think 3D movies are grossly overrated. I hate wearing the stupid glasses and I always leave with a headache. I kept my eyes closed for the last hour or so of Transformers, just too much explosion and Shia LeBeouf for my taste. Hindi movies are freaking LONG, usually averaging 3-4 hours. Most was in Hindi, but the plot was three best buddies going to Spain and discovering themselves, so some was in Spanish. I would always perk up at the Spanish, which was interestingly subtitled in English, not Hindi. Movies should have to stick to no more than two languages to spare their viewers headaches. I have watched, understood and enjoyed French movies without subtitles and may have enjoyed this movie more if not for the length. I almost always fall asleep at the movie theatre as I have the attention span of a gnat and most blockbusters are unintelligent and monotonous. I have gravitated more towards TV series, as ~45 minutes of entertainment is just the right amount to keep me interested. We're currently on Breaking Bad, which we randomly got from somebody's hard drive and knew nothing about before watching. It's incredible, one of my favorite shows.

That's all for now, look for an extensive EPL preview blog coming soon. Being in Nepal is like having NFL Sunday Ticket for free, as every match is televised and every male has a rooting interest in one of the Big Four. Should make for less blogs and more soccer-filled weekends, can't wait!

Visitors!

My parents came to visit on July 14th, staying through the 25th. We met them at their hotel, and I thought they would be too exhausted to do anything, but they were geared up for activity. Shehrish and I decided to plunge right in, and took them to Thamel for lunch. I could tell that both were shocked walking through the chaotic streets. I think I forgot that begging children, drug slinging and traffic coming from every direction is not the norm for Winston-Salem. We had lunch at OR2K, and my dad found sitting indian style on the floor to be too much. After lunch, we went to Durbar Square, and both described the walk as 'sensory overload', as they were seeing and hearing many new things while walking the backroads to the temples. I remember being shocked by things upon arrival, but nothing surprises me anymore. We were immediately interrogated by a guard and asked to pay the obscene price for white people, and promptly left. I usually get by without paying, but I guess three white folks with backpacks and bright T-shirts threw up a flag. We took a cab to Shehrish's house, and some street kid was harassing my mom for money while we were stopped at a light. I usually just ignore them, but this dude was persistent, and I shooed him away with a pushing motion as he was hanging on the window. He proceeded to slap me in the back of the head, and everyone had a good laugh at my expense. Later that day, we had dinner at Handlebar, met Shehrish's family and called it a night.

The next day, we went to Swayambhunath, or 'monkey temple', in KTM. I had never been, and was expecting another run of the mill temple with a few monkeys around, but couldn't have been more wrong. Swayambhunath is an AMAZING Buddhist temple originally founded as a religious site in the 5th century with amazing statues and a massive stupa at the top. The walk up to the top is quite steep, and monkeys run all around, playing and eating. At the top, monkeys run around everywhere and the area is loaded with goregous statues, prayer wheels and wooden carving. A basic knowledge of Buddhism or having simply read Siddhartha will leave one drooling over the massive amounts of Buddhist symbolism and mythology. I was angry with Shehrish for never having taken me before, as the temple is easily the coolest thing I have seen in KTM to date.

Bhaktapur and Nagarkot were the next day's activities, and both were nice. We had an informative tour guide for Bhatkapur, which would have been great if his English had been decipherable. The city itself is amazing, ancient temple upon ancient temple and amazing artwork everywhere. One such temple is dedicated to eroticism, and depicted numerous positions that would make the Kama Sutra blush. The tour would have been more enjoyable had it not been rainy and muggy, but was nonetheless quite nice. We then got in the car and drove to Nagarkot, a high city that boasts amazing views of the valley. Unfortunately, monsoon season weather obstructed everything, but it was still neat to feel as if you were above the world and on top of the clouds. We had lunch there, and then headed back to KTM. That evening, we had dinner in Thamel amid a wicked rainstorm. While walking back to get a cab, a drug dealer offered my mother hash and opium, which she politely declined. Other than seeing some guy arrested and whacked with a baton, the night was pretty low key, and we went to bed early to rest up for Pokhara.

Shehrish and I woke up around six and were at my parents’ hotel by seven to head to Pokhara. Nisha was picked up on the way. We had planned to raft for a stretch of the trip on the Trishuli River, and saw that it was rushing and muddy from all of the rainfall, great conditions for whitewater rafting. Shehrish and Nisha were apprehensive, having never rafted before, but both loved it. The rapids were surprisingly good; we were told to expect class 3 rapids, but there were many class 4's as well and the river was ridiculously turbulent. At one point, I jumped out of the raft and floated onward for a stretch with no rapids, which turned out to be a really bad decision. The cheap SPF 20 sunscreen I had liberally applied must not have been waterproof, as I subsequently battled the worst sunburn of my life, to be continued. We got to Pokhara that evening and dropped my parents off at Fishtail Lodge (nice) and went out to find a cheap hotel for ourselves (terrible). After beer and pizza at Moondance, we called it a night.

Early next morning we got up and drove about an hour away to start trekking. The weather was cloudy and muggy, less than ideal conditions for trekking. The first couple of hours we basically walked straight up, which was quite difficult until I got used to it. The four-ish hour walk was nice, and we got to our camp in late afternoon. I was fortunate to find an aloe plant growing nearby to slather all over my sun-baked knees, which were beginning to blister. Everything was cool and misty, as we were literally in the clouds at high elevation. After dinner and having some ‘rahksi’, potent local alcohol, with our guide, we called it a night. I awoke the next morning to find blood all over my ankles and bed sheets, a Silence of the Lambs-like moth on my pillow and a blister the size of a golf ball on my right knee. I had brought in leeches with me to bed, squashed the deaths-head moth presumably with my face and nearly collapsed upon standing with my severely burned legs. Undeterred, I ate breakfast, lanced my blister and we were on our way. Everyone covered their shoes and legs with salt to discourage leeches. The hike that day was beautiful despite the cloudy conditions. Being monsoon season, everything was a vibrant green, and trekking through the Annapurna range reminded me of scenes from Jurassic Park. We went slow as everything was slippery and wet, but made it to our next camp late that afternoon. Our camp was gorgeous and we had spectacular views all around us. I showered for the first time since leaving Pokhara, and discovered a trio of leeches feasting on the back of my left knee. The next day we awoke to an absolute deluge. The rain was heavy, and onward we went. Highlights of the day included a landslide five feet in front of us, a leech the size of a cigar stuck to my mothers leg, crossing a slick, thin log bridge, where falling (which easily could have happened) probably meant death either by drowning or getting mangled on rocks, and having one of the most satisfying meals of my life after trekking 6-7 hours. It was only ‘dal bhat’, which I eat almost every day, but I have never enjoyed food more. Upon getting back, the girls and I hit up a bar to celebrate the end of our adventure, and the next morning we headed back to KTM.

The last days in Kathmandu were spent shopping for gifts for my parents to take back and having dinner at Bhumi, the Newari restaurant where I ate lungs and tongue on my second night in Nepal. My parents were somewhat reluctant to try things, but both ended up enjoying all of the food, including the lung. The next morning they came to check out the school before leaving. I think they’re laid over in Korea now, and I hope they enjoyed everything!

Chester's demise, raging flames, parties and traveling

In a tragic turn of events, my favorite pigeon, Chester, was found deceased with two crows battling over his corpse. When we came up to the terrace, the crows flew away and we identified Chester through a marking on his stomach. Chester was always around for the first month or so of my visit, as he was nursing a broken leg and would always sit in the same spot. The cause of death was hard to determine, as we found the crows pulling out his intestines as if they were spaghetti noodles. Rest in peace, Chester.

There was a huge fire in Thamel last night that quickly went from contained to out of control. We were waiting in line to get falafel wraps and noticed a small fire in the corner of the street. People were frantically trying to put it out by pouring massive amounts of water on the flames, but nothing worked. I wanted to get far away, but Shehrish was intrigued and wanted to watch. The fire kept growing, and a large crowd had gathered. All of a sudden, the fire got massive and the whole street was engulfed in flames. The hair on my left arm was partially singed off. There was gasoline all over the road as well. The crowd started running at me and away from the fire, and I felt like I would be trampled. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and we took a roundabout way to get out of Thamel and avoid incineration.

How is it that a third installment of Transformers was deemed necessary? We went to the movies this week to see it, and it went on about two hours too long. I have only walked out of one movie in my entire life (the abysmal Alexander with Colin Farrell), and would have made it two had Shehrish’s family not been present. The final battle scene lasted over an hour with the robots battling throughout Chicago, and it put me to sleep. Shia LeBeouf is just terrible, and his new love interest couldn’t have been more vapid. Save your money.

Friday was Sherry’s dads birthday, and about twenty people came over to celebrate. There was a smorgasbord of Indian/Nepali food, and I found a new great food, ‘dhaibada’, essentially lentil balls in a yogurt sauce. A lot of Indian food has yogurt used in different ways, and I have liked all of it. The celebration was rambunctious and lasted until two in the morning. Happy birthday Rabi!

My parents come on Thursday to visit and I look forward to their arrival. It will be fun to see what shocks and startles them, as I feel completely adjusted to my surroundings and haven’t been rattled by anything for a while, except for the raging fire described above. We are traveling all over Nepal, and I am going to do the second biggest bungee jump in the world. Safe travels!

Monsoon Blues, Pizza Parties and Piracy

Monsoon season is underway, and I haven't seen or felt real sunlight in over a week. The sky becomes a bright greyish white when the sun is out, and it usually proceeds to rain all afternoon, with a break around dinnertime, and then all throughout the night. I can now empathize with individuals who justify tanning and looking orange in the winter by claiming seasonal depression; I no longer think that they're simply vain and trashy. It's hard to feel upbeat and energetic when its gloomy 24/7. Perpetual rain makes running challenging, as I have to be ready to go whenever there's a pause in the late afternoon. One plus is I get agility training by default, as the poorly paved roads provide a minefield of muddy puddles to dodge along with motorbikes and the occasional wandering bovine. I have developed muscle in my legs that I didn't know existed.

I committed an egregious tourist sin by submitting to my desire for familiar food and went for a snack with Shehrish at Pizza Hut, conveniently located next to a KFC to accommodate Nepal's ever growing demographic of white trash tourists. I don't even like Pizza Hut, and haven't eaten it since the cafeteria at DePauw had pan pizzas in stock, but the familiar signage was too much to resist. We entered, and unlike the tacky, antiquated decor of American Huts, this particular Hut was decorated in a fancy and luxurious manner, and I felt underdressed in jeans and a collared shirt. The menu was expansive and actually made the food look good. All of the Huts I have ever been to are filled with downtrodden families in faded NASCAR shirts, guzzling pitchers of beer and cleaning out the buffet of dessert pizza and the grayish-brown pudding, with at least one neglected infant in a high chair screaming its head off; in Nepal, we were surrounded by young families, and all the kids looked thrilled shoving breadsticks and pizza in their faces. I went conservative and ordered a personal cheese pizza. It came out piping hot, and the first bite may have been the best thing I have eaten in months. I have been good about trying anything and have enjoyed all of the food, but was sick of Indian food and wanting something familiar. It was greasy from top to bottom, plastered with salty cheese and liberally sauced. So thank you, Pizza Hut. It was everything I could have possibly wanted, and a reminder why Americans struggle with obesity and heart disease.

We hit up the Chinese market today to load up on pirated DVD’s and support organized crime. The area was really muddy, and at one point I was literally up to my ankles in wet mud. Another drawback to monsoon season is the mud, as it gets on your pants as well as all over your shoes, and cars/bikes driving by soak you by going through puddles. I usually try to buy copywrited media, as it looks and sounds better, but in Nepal I don’t have a choice. Getting an entire series of a TV show for Rs. 900 (about $13) is pretty sweet, and individual movies are about 3 for $1 USD. Unfortunately, season six of my bootlegged Sopranos series is a blank disc, but I do have the option of having two different forms of Chinese subtitles and previews of Hindi cartoons.

The men’s Wimbledon final is about to be underway, and I find myself watching tennis for the first time in several years. Afternoon/evening is pretty thin these days, as my other current options include Die Hard 4, India’s Most Desirable and Jersey Shore, which would tempt me if I hadn’t already seen it. Tennis it is, go Djokovic.

Animal Sacrifice, Food Poisoning, Closures, Frog Whispering

I have my students write in their journals on Monday mornings to chronicle their weekends and to practice grammar, spelling and handwriting. Most kids write about going to movies, playing with friends and other mundane activities. One little girl submitted a copy that caught me by surprise. In summation:

“…On Saturday we had to make the sheep die. When a new baby comes, a sheep has to die. My dad cut the sheep and it made a noise, moved a bit and died. The bloods got on the ground, but it was not that much bloods. After the sheep died we ate lunch and I played with my sisters…”

I had to correct her usage of ‘bloods’, teaching her not to pluralize the word, but it was otherwise a perfectly written journal. I got to learn, too; I didn’t know that Muslims sacrificed a sheep when a child was born. Some other things that I’ve learned is that you get ‘same pinched’ for wearing the same color as someone else, Justin Beiber is a polarizing figure among 7 year olds and a ‘long toilet’ is code for going #2.

My stomach issues eventually settled after adjusting to the food, but I ate ting momos with yak cheese at a Bhutanese/Tibetan restaurant this past weekend, and it ended poorly. Later that evening, I couldn’t sleep as my heart was beating rapidly. Heartburn subsequently set in, and at about five in the morning it all came up. The next day I was extremely ill and the extent of my food intake was two slices of plain bread and an extremely small portion of plain rice. I was so nauseous that I couldn’t watch TV or do anything but writhe around in bed and battle the urge to vomit. That evening, her mom gave me a shot of vodka, thinking that the alcohol would settle my stomach, and I woke up the next morning feeling more or less normal. I had never had food poisoning before, and wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. Watch what you eat.

School was affected by more political problems this week. I was woken up on Monday to learn that a ‘bandh’ had been called and that I had to set the phone tree in motion so that everyone heard about it. Of course, someone botched up the phone tree and I spent over an hour calling kids. These closures are bad news for everyone, as they affect everything and the entire day is essentially a waste. The schools have to close as protesters have ransacked them in the past, putting teachers and students in harm’s way. As much as I get annoyed with the partisan American system, I am grateful that a) we have a government, and b) it is stable.

I have recently been sleeping in the household sitting area, as Shehrish’s brother returned from boarding school for the summer and I had been in his room. I like my new room, as it’s much cooler than being upstairs and stays darker in the mornings, but the only problem is the nightly symphony of frog noise. I mentioned it one morning, and Shehrish's mother recommended that I speak to the frogs and kindly suggest that they cease croaking at night. She swears up and down that one time she kindly asked a rat to leave the household, and afterwards it never came back. I was obviously skeptical of such a phenomenon and sarcastically asked whether to address the frogs in English or Nepali. Later, to make a mockery of her animal whisperings, I made my request to the frogs and apologized for the recent massacre of their tadpoles (the fish pond was cleaned recently, eliminating millions of tiny tadpoles). I didn't ask for the frogs to leave, but simply to keep it down after 11. We went to a party and came back last night around 12. Much to my chagrin, the frogs were silent. By all means, it should have been a noisy night, as it was drizzling and they're most active when it rains. I slept peacefully throughout the night and didn't hear one croak. Shehrish's mom has been gloating and making fun of me all day, but I refuse to believe unless the trend continues for two more nights. I have made a similar request to the mosquitoes just in case I am wrong.