Sunday, August 10, 2008

Back

How does one come back to America?

What do you do?

I realize what priveledge we have, and how we do not use it at all.

As Americans, we have all the power in the world. Literally. As voting citizens in the eminent democratic world power, we have the power in our hands to change the world.

I sat outside of Whole Foods in Dallas waiting on my Dad to finish shopping, and I watched the people go by. (I mean, in all honesty, first impression back from Nepal, is "Holy hell, everyone looks so white and tall!") But, seriously, I watched them with their baby strollers, or carts full of organically-grown, free range, hand picked, fair trade, green certified, whatever produce. At the same time, I had just tried to buy a magazine from inside. Thinking I would invest in a Newsweek or Economist or New York Times for the ride from Dallas to Oklahoma, where my father lives. Out of all the magazines in Whole Foods, all they had was People, US Weekly, "How to get skinny quick."

These people who hold all the power, myself definitely not excluded from this, allow themselves to be buried in asinine, mindless jibber about "Britney's new drug habit" or something?

Why do we not look more deeply, or look at all, into what is going on in the outside world. In meeting people from different nationalities, I think Americans may be the only ones who have such a focus on domestic issues. We, as a people, know nothing about other countries even though they know so much about us, and each other. Even citizens from other first-world countries like Europe have a global sense that far trumps ours.

And the food we throw away. This really incenses me. And, Americans are fat because we do not have hunger, true hunger in our country... In fact, we have food so plentiful that eating too much has become a disease, a common disease. Even among our very poor are people with obesity, clearly very wealthy by the standards of the rest of the world.



But, it is good to be home. This is my country. I am American. I fit in here, in this culture more than any other in the world. I also have tremendous faith in this culture. And, now that I'm back I can finally understand what the hell people are saying to me. Beautiful.

It is good to be home, I just struggle.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Hong Kong

I am in my favorite airport in the world, totally kidding. I am not so in love with Hong Kong.

I kind of just ran around with Arya and Vivek for my last 2 or 3 days. I asked for their help shopping (dealing with the shopkeepers) and checking out of my hotel and fixing my airline ticket and checking luggage etc.

I can't believe I am gone. Weird. I am sad and it seems really surreal. Better now that I'm in Hong Kong, but I was so so SO sad last night at the Kathmandu airport. I am exhausted at the moment, too tired to write much. I love that city. Very much. It is so strange, and so frustrating at times. Actually, at times I wanted to kill it and everything in it, just get things over with and set the whole damn thing on fire. But, truth be told, I love that city. Absolutely love it. And Asia seems so very different than the other places I have traveled, like Europe and Central America. Kathmandu is a little like an "Austin" of Asia. It's an international smelting pot, as a small port between China/Tibet and India, heavily influenced by both. This added with the influence of trekkers, and other white people from Europe or South America seeking their luck with the Himalayas, accounts for a very eclectic spot. It's also Asian, without the heavy emphasis on communism (like China) or strict Islam (like Pakistan). Hinduism lends the place a very liberal air... I mean very explicit tantric scenes are openly displayed on even the most holy temples.

-by the way, I was wrong before about the meaning of the word "Himalaya." Not mountain but Hima = snow or ice, and laya = abode or home.


Oh, hahahaha, one of my friends made a good point before I left saying, "Look around, everyone here is so absolutely chilled out. They just sit around all day, so laid back. How in the hell is our country ever going to develop?"







Gohonopokhari or "diamond pool"












Produce vendor on his traveling office.













Lainchour












Japanese bath in Lazimpat
















Club Fire











Dinner with mom










Talking about Talbot and how excited I am to see him. I went on and on about Talbot, of course, being my "favorite." They cannot pronounce his name and call him Tablet or Tabloid, which I thought was pretty hysterical.













Last minute errands and breakfast.














Thamel















View of central Lainchour from my balcony. It allows for perfect observation of neighborhood life. The open area in the middle is the neighborhood common space and has recently- I mean in the past few days- been converted to some sort of oversized badminton/ undersized tennis court. Communal recreation.







My room is on the 4th floor, the one covered in this view by trees. Maoist graffiti on the building to the right.



Leaving guest house for the airport.

Catch you on the flip side.

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Last post before I leave in a few hours. Very sad and strange feeling. I just bought a necklace that's pretty cool and reminds me of Nepal. Good.

I don't know what to think.

Catch you on the flip side I guess.

kp

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Saturday, August 2, 2008

Leaving

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I fly home tomorrow.

Kathmandu is a strange city, sometimes I hate it, no, absolutely loath it. It's filthy. The people are conniving. I don't fit in the culture. But, at the same time, I guess there have been times when I really love this city also. When, for an instant, I actually "get it" and feel confident and comfortable on my own.

I think now that my time is ending, I hate the city. Perhaps because I love it and I feel hurt that now we must "break up" hhaha.

I ducked out of all engagements this morning, dropped off one last load of laundry, and had lunch by myself in a cafe in the very back of a bookstore. It was a welcome quiet from the streets where people from all sides speak at you constantly. Rickshaw drivers say, "rrricksaw?," cab drivers say, "taxiii madam?," drug dealers creep up behind your back and purr "meeeruijuaaana?" or "hashish, didi?" (hash, sister?) All this mixed with shopkeepers relentlessly trying to entice white people into their shops, offering items for four times the actual cost.
While I was in the bookstore, I bought the book The Snow Leopard, which documents an exploration into the Himalayas to find an elusive white leopard. I think it also has some sort of an emphasis on personal development. In reading a little bit, I was struck by one comment by the author, "Yet in Varanasi there is hope of life that has been abandoned in such cities as Calcutta, which seems resigned to the dead and dying in its gutters. Shiva dances in the spicy foods, in the exhilarated bells of the swarming bicycles, the angry bus horns, the chatter of the temple monkeys, the vermillion tikka dot on the women's foreheads, even in the scent of charred flesh that pervades the ghats. The people smile - that is the greatest miracle of all."

I was impressed with his ability to capture so much of Kathmandu in two sentences.

Another instance of eloquency towards this complicated city was by an American girl about a month ago. She was leaving the next day, and someone asked her to sum up her experience in Nepal in one or two sentences. (She was actually really delightful, my age, from Idaho, had been here for a summer trip also). At first I groaned at her response, thinking it was cheesy and too, I don't know, quasi-philosophical or something. But, it stuck with me, and now I am reminded of what she said. It was, "Nepal is full of beauty and full of filth. But, at the same time it is very pure." I still am not quite sure how I feel about that, but for whatever reason, I have not forgotten it.

So, one night left, and then home home home. I am sad, and just feel like I am in a strange shock, or state of limbo - this could also partly be due to a very intense and lingering hangover from last night. (Caroline, oohAAHooh) Now, I will pack, buy a few scarves, and maybe walk around a bit to feel the city one last time on my own.
I may finally punch on of the shopkeepers, just for good measure and payback for all their talking at me all summer. We shall see.
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