3/20/2016
From yesterday; went back out in the evening as the light
began to fade. Tried to justify my day sleeping. Ended up in the bazaar and
Basantapur Durbar Square again. And I thought it was busy during the day.
Heard tons of offering bells in a temple north of the square
(Pashupatinath as it so happens). I didn’t dare approach from the front where
the crowd was ringing the bells like the British were coming, but off to the
west there was a grated doorway where I could catch glimpses of a woman dancing
around the stone deity, candles hanging and swooping in her right hand. So,
this is their devotion. So much more than the muttered mantras and recitations
of “om mani padme hum.”
Or maybe this is the Nepali version of boisterous
congregations with their Amens and Oh Lords.
Interesting.
Had my Nepal Ice and went to bed at 8.
Woke up at 4. Decided to head to Swayambunath again, early
to see if I could catch the sunrise above the smog. No such luck as the gate to
the hotel was locked and the smog seems to be ever present.
I did find the rooftop patio to the hotel and took some
pictures from there. I think those are about as close to a sunrise as I’m going
to get in Kathmandu. Definitely doing a trek next time. Still very beautiful
from my perch on the hotel’s water tower.
Walked down to the lobby when one of the workers was getting
up from their couch. There were two of them sleeping in the lobby. Shi. I’ve
never seen either one not behind the desk or in the kitchen. Things are really
becoming much more clear. This is not just a job. This is not just earning to
eat. This is life. This is home. There’s no punching out for these two, yet
they have always greeted me and helped me out so kindly. I know people who’ve
excused rudeness because it was a Monday or they hadn’t had enough coffee. How
is it we get closer and closer to kindness when our lives are at stake? Is that
really the sum of it? I’ve always had the notion of sorts, but for me it’s
quantified by money.
Is money not the issue?
Naw, couldn’t be.
So I had this to think on as I was let out of the hotel and
began my pilgrimage. Was an easier stroll today. Back didn’t give me grief till
I was almost to the eastern base of the stupa. The eye caught more the second
time around and I didn’t wuss out with the western route. I noticed quite a few
joggers incorporating the steps into their daily run. Just walking them, with
three stops, my heart was pounding along around 132 BPM. I was glad to see a
few of the joggers slow to a crawl or stop on occasion.
A choir was at the top, along with the constant trickle of
devotees making their way to the top. No merchants yet and I used the
opportunity to really let the sensations take hold.
I rested, contemplating what my future in travel would be
like with a body this broken. Slow and steady on the way back. Bought a variable
rate pack of smokes and headed up to my room with two cheese croissants. I
nutted up to buy from an Italian bakery. Man cannot live on bread and water
alone? Please, it’s been four days without that delicious gluten filled treat.
I sure as hell was going to try.
Laid down with my guidebook and flipped to the history
portion. Churned through most of it in an hour. Rough stuff. Decided today was
going to be a trash day. Slept for about four hours. Made sure to stay flat.
Woke up feeling much better. Decided to eat lunch at the
hotel. Had hot lemon tea and steamed veggie momos (dumplings). Holy shit food
tastes good. Melted my face a little but the tea helped keep the heat in check.
Grabbed camera, toured Thamel. I’d be the King of
Hashishland if I took up all the offers I’ve had from the rickshaw drivers.
Sucked it up and bought some souvenirs like a productive tourist. Feeling a
little bolder about it as time passes. Who knows, I may come out ahead on this.
Got about two hours in around Thamel. Guess my “no”s are getting more definite
the more I’m out. Not getting chased halfway down the street.
Trash day was a good decision. Back’s holding up better,
mood is lifting a bit. Sitting on the rooftop writing this. French party at the
table behind me talking in low mutters as they pace between the open air and
their room. White guy on the water tower two roofs down, jamming out and
getting some sun. Exhaust from the generator seeping out of the smoke stack 10
feet from me. Crows and doves and dogs fill the spaces between the shop music
and scooter horns. Decent breeze washes away any form of stagnation. Maybe I’ll
go back to the garden. – 2:50p
So two Buddhist monks wearing leather shoes walk into an
Italian pizza joint where country-western music is blaring while I have the
best mushroom risotto of my entire life.
You
can’t make this shit up folks. – 5:16p
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