Monkeys, Models, and the "Fete de la Musique"

I was really sad Friday, I'm not sure why... I just got uncontrollably homesick. I think it may have had to do something with remembering weekends at home, or at Sewanee, and missing my Friday night friends. Anyways, bad situation turned great as soon as I left work. As John Ruzic told me, friends and a little booze can sometimes be the "Rathleen Remedy" for being sad.

Arya called exactly as I walked into my hotel, "Cathy Cathy I am coming to get you, ok ok." He is pretty bossy, but I've learned just to boss back. The International Festival this weekend, "Fete de la Musique," sponsored by a French organization an INGO, was pretty much a huge music festival in which all the proceedes went from the French INGO to charity. Everything from traditional Nepali music to Pink Floyd punk covers.

In true form, Arya wanted to see it all Friday night. He has become a good influence because he refuses to drink until later in the night, because "you have to enjoy the city and music during the evening without being pissed (drunk). Get pissed after dark" We saw a little bit of a more traditional number, then back to his restaurant for dinner with some of his family, then ended up spending most of the night at "Tamas" listening to a Nepali techno DJ.


Techno at Tamas



(Again, more pics on Picasa web)


-Have I told you how both Vivek and Arya are in the royal family? Their "caste" is the Shahs, or late kings of Nepal, the dynasty ending the day after I got here - when the Maoists ousted the King from the Royal Palace. So these "family times" Arya insists that I sit in on are quite interesting. His house is ridiculous lavish for Nepal, and there are pics of him and the Crowned Prince in the jungle hunting tigers and stuff together.... Crazy.-

Anyways, he has a younger girl cousin who is really fun, party girl, who we met at Tamas. Then, later back to his restaurant to watch the Croatia / Turkey game on a huge projector they set up.

The next day, I planned to work but ended up going to Durbar Marg (King's Way) early in the afternoon for the big Fete de la Musique street festival with Vivek, Arya, Kiman, and some other kids. This was awesome. Again, kids are the same everywhere. They all definitely like to rock out with their friends.


Durbar Marg with Vivek, Arya and Kiman. Check out the helmets, they all ride motorcycles. Way fun.




Arya. Also, everyone here is ridiculously short. Sucks, Ruth.


- One other thing I do not think I have mentioned yet is just how much I stick out here, way more than a sore thumb, like an enormous, multiple-fractured thumb. It was really evident at this festival with me, and about 600 Nepali people. This is the "off-season" due to the monsoon, so there are almost no westerners (up from the few there are in other seasons). Seriously. They call me, and other white people, "monkey" because apparently when explorers first came to Nepal, the only other animals Nepalis had seen with white hair were monkeys. Actually, they keep talking about my visit to my "cousins" at Swyambunath last weekend (you know, the "Monkey Temple.")

I have never before felt how people with different skin colors in America must feel. Really, to be uncontrollably and irreversibly marked, everywhere, all the time, subject to immediate judgment. I am solemnly pledging to myself to try to never make those judgments again.. And I thought I was a pretty liberal, accepting person before. In changing positions, I see now that no matter what I thought, I really was not. Think about it, ok if a person with a different color skin walked in to go to dinner with one of your friends, you immediately categorize even little things, like their hair color, and texture, and the way they wear their hair. How they speak. How they greet you. How they sit down. How they talk to your friend. How they order food. How they eat their food. How they answer your questions.

In many ways these judgments are not intended to be malicious, I mean I do not think they were in my case, or when I was the one making them. But malicious or not, they are judgments that people make. Point being, I really am going to try to stop, because it sucks being on the other side.

Arya's pic from the stage. Look at all the brown skin and black hair. See what I mean?


Sunday, I was working on another project for Vivek - they needed help with the English - when Robel, the UN photographer from Eritrea, called. I forgot I had promised this Russian girl I would model for her clothes line she is exporting from KTM. Oops. God, I REALLY did not want to do this as soon as I remembered. At the time I had thought that it was something you say in passing, like "yeaaa, suuure, I'll do it," but don't really think they are going to take you up on it. WRONG. So, I went with her, Robel, some other Nepali guys, another girl from Finland, and Arya tagged along to carry my stuff (and he and Robel are best buddies).

I really have no desire to be a model. EVER. I don't like the camera. Oh well, it was funny and now it's over with. We went to the roof of this house right outside of Thamel and I had to put on all these jackets and pose funny ways. I just realized this could sound sketchy, but I trust Arya and Robel - who shot the pics. This girl really just needed a person. I wore all my regular clothes, and just put different jackets over them. I'll post a pic Arya took while it was going on.


Laughing about this with Robel.