"You take Dew."

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Nothing much has been happening the last couple of days. I’ve been doing my usual routine of working at home or in restaurants, watching movies, and meeting friends for lunch. On Friday Mari and I went to the Radisson for a fancy hotel lunch, and my buddy Rajiv was there. It has been months since I’ve seen him, since I haven’t been hanging out at the Radisson as much since I’m not freezing all the time (now it’s actually getting to be uncomfortably hot). But he remembered me, and told me how he saw me going into Bhat Bhateni recently. I didn’t tell him how often I hang out there just to kill time. He was very sweet, giving us free tea and a 10% discount on our overpriced meal.

Tonight I went to Kiran’s for dinner again, which is always fun. Kiran rents a tiny room and kitchen where he and 4 young guys live. He pays the rent, they do all the cooking and cleaning, as well as trying to find work as trekking cooks and porters. All of them are related to him in some way or another. Tonight there were 7 guys total. And as usual, they cooked a 5 course meal, doing most of the preparations on the floor. They made the usual dhal bhat and tarkari, but also chicken momo and veg tempura, since Kiran knows those are 2 of my favorites. They also made a mushroom dish that I just couldn’t eat. I’ve never liked mushrooms—they seem too much like human flesh to me. I took one bite and knew there was no way I was going to be able to force it all down without gagging, so I asked Kiran if he wanted mine. I debated for a while whether to even ask, because Nepalis usually don’t eat off of each others’ plates—once you start eating it’s considered polluted (jutho). But Kiran happily took my portion and polished it off. For dessert they brought out a plate of fruit—oranges, bananas, and apples. I could only eat one small banana because I was so full, but they sent me home with the oranges.

Kiran asked if I wanted beer, and I said no because my stomach hasn’t been feeling all that great lately. So he said, “You don’t want beer, you take Dew.” Mountain Dew. I think the last time I drank Mountain Dew was summer camp back when I was 10 years old.

I told them that my family was celebrating a Jewish festival back in the U.S. I explained Passover, and how everyone gets together for a big meal. Kiran said, “We had big meal here, just like your home.”

Yes, except for the brisquet and matzah.

It was nice to sit there, even though there was no electricity, I was stuffed beyond belief, and I didn’t understand half of what was being said. These are the experiences that I will miss—how often are you invited to someone’s house, served several courses cooked on the floor by candlelight, and discuss Tibetan politics with a bunch of Nepalis? Kiran is counting down the days until I leave—not because he wants to see me go, but because he wants to see me several more times before then. He is actually delaying going back to his village for the farming season until I take off. He invited me for one last meal at his house before I go. And I heard him talking to one of the other men about cooking broccoli for me, because I had told him earlier how much I like it.

When I came home, I turned on CNN and there was John Stewart! Apparently there’s a “global edition” of the Daily Show, but I have no idea when it’s on and how often, since there’s no TV guide and most of the channels operate on the time zone of other countries, like India or Thailand. I so miss the Daily Show. A little taste of home…

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