Don't Let the Door Hit You On the Way In

Even on a slow day here, it seems like 5,000 some-odd things happen to you. And the last few days have been anything but slow. There is a great deal to tell, some of it happy, some of it less so, and some are merely the strange observations of a wandering fool. I'm going to do away with the pleasantries for the time being and just list some things that have happened whilst in Nepal, or the side effects thereof. Ok.

1. I have a rash on my fingers caused by some foreign irritant. Don't worry, I went to the travel clinic, they gave me some cream, all is well now.
2. We have just moved in with our homestay families in Boudha. My pala's (Tibetan for father) name is Tashi. My amala's (mother) name is Sherab. They are lovely. They have three daughters. Two are in America going to college at Bemidji State University and Trumann State University. Tashi and Sherab haven't seen them for two years. Talk about studying abroad. The third daughter is quite young, no older than 10. As of right now, she mostly ignores me.
3. Everything shits everywhere.
4. My jaded, reverse-orientalist idolatry of Buddhists has been shattered. Whilst circumambulating Boudha Stupa, I was scammed into giving a man 1000 rupees after talking to him sometime about Buddhism and the like. He said he was sick and could not afford his medicine. I believed him. That is what the Dalai Lama calls idiot compassion. I found out I had been scammed when I was relating what happened to another student on the program and was told the exact same man had approached him the previous day with the same story. They were smart. They didn't give him anything, so he called them evil. He seemed so sincere. Many of the people here really are. He was not. Live and learn, right?
5. I have a crush on one of my Tibetan language teachers. In fact, I'm writing this from the internet cafe that she also owns. I'm not sure if that qualifies as some kind of irony. Maybe a hipster would know.
6. We are not going to Tibet. That door has been a closed. This was related to us yesterday. We took all the precautions, all the extra steps, we even deliberately stayed away from the exile community. In truth, we were likely doomed from the get go. The Chinese government is scared shitless by young Americans going to Tibet. That apprehension turns to hysteria when those Americans are college students. So it goes.
7. I bought a Nepali hat called a Topi. I was already a big hit with locals because I smile and wave at everyone. Now I am a flipping all-star. Not really, but I do get a lot of comments and smiles, and one or two cat calls (I am flabbergasted over how difficult, and culturally inappropriate, it would be to try and start a casual relationship with a Nepali or Tibetan girl whilst I am here. So far the this is the only pick-up line I can come up that also complies with the traditional relationship dynamics that I am told are the standard fare: Will you marry me?).
8. Hindi and Nepali soap-operas and commercials are atrocious. They are so over the top that everything seems like it is deliberately making fun of itself. The acting is so bad. I don't even know what people are saying and I can still tell the dialogue is ridiculous. Every five minutes or so, one of the main male characters will look into the camera with tears streaming down their face. A face, that save for the occasional lip quiver, is as stern as a concrete block. Though I thought it impossible, television here makes Spartacus on Starz look good by comparison (I died a little just from typing that). I suppose I can always read books. Books, for those of you born post-1995, are collections of many sheets of paper on which information or stories are printed as words and are then read aloud.
9. The man sitting in the cyber cafe next to me is playing Farmville, but it is in Chinese. It hurts me to see this. His hypothetical thought process: 'I'm on vacation in Kathmandu, a city bursting at the seams in culture and history...and I really need to harvest the imaginary soybeans I planted on my imaginary farm so I can get to the next imaginary level, buy more imaginary animals, plant more imaginary crops, and waste more non-imaginary time.' (All of that in Chinese, of course.)
10. The Door to Tibet has closed, but the window to Mustang has opened. I will explain all this entails in a later post, but know that we are leaving on Saturday. Given Mustang's remoteness, this may mean that I will be incommunicado for as long as three weeks. "Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from [Buddha]." - Kurt Vonnegut

I'll let you know more, and relate some emotional gobbledegoop over the next day.

The Frequency is Courage,
-Doug B.