a whole new level of strangeness


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January 13th 2008
Published: January 13th 2008
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Life is always strange here, and just when I think I’m used to the strangeness, strangeness occurs at the next level. All I can do is laugh, because if you sit here and wish for things to be otherwise, it’s a complete waste of time. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve actually experienced the craziness of the developing world first hand (I mean by living there, not as a tourist), but it baffles me that a majority of the world lives this way. For example, the last couple of days I have been dealing with the electricity going out at random hours, not according to the load shedding schedule I was given. So I just work while there is power and make sure my laptop is forever backed up by a battery. Coming into this experience I was looking forward to a break from the capitalist, materialist, ethnocentrist ways that are so prevalent in the U.S., but the longer I am here, the more I appreciate the developed world.

The latest of my strange experiences occurred with that Indian guy I met in Pokhara, the one who claimed he wanted to learn about my culture and that he could teach me about his. He was going back to India this week, so I agreed I would meet him back in Kathmandu for a cup of coffee since he had an overnight layover. Well, the new antibiotics the doctor gave me (I don’t have a parasite, by the way, which is excellent news) made me very sick to my stomach the first day. Even though I had every intention of meeting him, I had to cancel, as my stomach was burning and churning. He claimed he understood.

Over the next several hours I received about 10 calls and several text messages from him, saying things like, “Can I say u something nice. Mouten can fly, ochen can dry, u chould forget me but how chould i? im unlucky I chould not see ur smile ur beutyfull dimples. ”

That’s a bad sign. That message was followed by several more calls and messages, until finally I got, “Ok this is my last msg and now I will not disturb u any more. I think u don’t want me to be ur wellwisher. But I will wish 4 u always. Feeling so lonely.”

And then, “I’m little crazy. I wrote u befor that I don’t connect u any more. But as u know feeling has never end. So my feeling will not stop 4 u. I know u won’t answer me. But I will keep knocking in ur heart to give me a little place in corner of ur heart. Im keep waiting 4 answer?????? Pleace.”

Followed by, “This is not nice ur dropping my phone all the time. why? Im not that kind of person the way u think. try to feel don’t think. ok.”

“Michelle I know ur angry on me. That’s way ur not even talking me. No problem but atlist try to discraib ur self by writing msg. don’t be selfish like amrican.”

At which point I wrote, “I am sick. Stop contacting me. I have a boyfriend.” And shut off my phone. When I turned it back on there were a couple of more messages, but I think he’s now back in India where he cannot make the call.

I had heard the other Fulbrighters (male and female) talk about Nepalis who want to be their best friends and hang out and have a good time, but then when they get your number they go absolutely crazy! Not all of them are like that, of course. I have a hard time even getting in touch with most of my Nepali friends, but this guy (Indian, not Nepali) and some other people Fulbrighters have come into contact with are seriously lacking cell phone etiquette—or even social skills in general! I’m sure it was harmless, but I was freaked and extremely annoyed nonetheless.

Yesterday I felt much better, and the antibiotics were a little less painful. I hung out in Thamel most of the day, which is actually really nice on Saturdays because there is far less traffic. I went to my favorite tea shop, Mountain Tea Traders. I bought a couple of bags there weeks ago, and the owner had called me recently to see when I was coming back. So I went to grab a couple more bags to bring back to the U.S. He wasn’t there at first, so his 21-year old assistant prepared some Darjeeling tea for me to taste. And then he had me make a cup for him, which is how the ritual goes, or something. The whole time the kid was asking about my hobbies, my family, how I like Nepal, and my favorite color. According to him, because I like purple, I am a “silent person,” meaning I enjoy peace. He likes blue, which also signals peace.

The owner came shortly afterward, claiming he could feel my presence there and that’s why he had come back. He was so excited to see me, and remembered everything I had told him about my work with women here. He says he wants to take me to a village on the outskirts of Kathmandu to show me how women live there. I agreed, but like most things in Nepal, who knows if it will ever happen. He also said I should have his family over for dinner so that I can cook them American food. Little does he know the only thing I cook these days is pasta and maybe an egg. Preparing anything else will take me hours, since I have to soak veggies in iodine and I have no oven.

After sipping tea and talking about American politics (he likes Condoleezza Rice for some reason) I bought a couple of bags of tea and some Nepali spices and headed out to meet Mary for lunch. The shop owner actually gave me a hug, which is not typical at all here. But it was nice to chat with him and his assistant and to feel so welcomed. I only spent the equivalent of $12, but they were thrilled.

I had an interesting conversation with my taxi driver on the way home yesterday afternoon. He was also young—probably 18. He told me he is driving a taxi because he needs to save money to go to the government-run university. He wants to study geography and teach it to small children in the villages. I learned that drivers pay 700 Rs per day to rent a taxi, which includes petrol. That’s why they all want to charge you at least 100 Rs per ride, even if it actually costs half that by the meter. They have to give several rides before they even start making a profit.

Today I went with Dinesh to pay for my plane ticket back to the U.S. He actually managed to get me a 4% discount, which will counteract the 4% conversion rate my credit card will charge me. Only in Nepal can you negotiate a discount on a plane ticket… I still don’t have the actual ticket; we have to go back for it tomorrow. But supposedly it is confirmed and paid for and I will have an aisle seat. We’ll see…

This afternoon I’ve been hanging out at Royal Hana, a great little authentic Japanese restaurant in Lazimpat. I had a delicious bento box and miso soup, which was far more than I could eat. I’ve been eating considerably less recently, and the pounds are rolling off me again. Even my hip bones are starting to come back! I haven’t seen those since college! I was annoyed because at the start of my meal, some former American who moved to Switzerland in the ‘80s and has been in Nepal for the past 2 years tried to get me to give him 10,000 Rs to pay for his Nepali “brother” to go back to the village to bring his sick infant child back to Kathmandu. I very politely said no, but on the inside I was like, who the fuck are you kidding? He had some story about how he used to teach Gaelic literature at MIT, how he was robbed by a Maoist-affiliated group on his way into Kathmandu, and now his Swiss bank cannot wire him money because he lost his ATM card. I don’t know how much of his story was true, but I couldn’t believe I was being asked by a foreigner to dish out 10,000 Rs for some random unfortunate circumstance. I guess you’re not immune from scams anywhere, even from other foreigners.

All of this craziness leads to so much stress! Time for another massage!


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13th January 2008

"Harmless flirtation"
I knew that tea invite was gonna turn out sketchy! It's not just the developing world - I had a renewed appreciation for Americans' learned shame in the UK when a 18yo boy kept asking me to "make a man" out of him. And I mean in front of all his friends and all the way up the high street to my flat. Telling men you're married doesn't even seem to help so good luck with the boyfriend deterrent. :D Also, I completely agree, that to appreciate your country most people have to leave it. Just to appreciate the freedom we have to criticize! Which I don't publicly do anyway.

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