I'm settling in. I know where to get the best breakfast - here, on my rooftop - two fried eggs, a bowl of porridge, lemon honey tea and toast for $1.50, while I'm warmed by the sun. I've learned not to shower early in the morning: the "lektrisity" is off, and the solar hasn't yet kicked in so it's like showering under a glacial waterfall. Not easy to wash hair when the water freezes to my scalp! I'm glad I didn't bring a hairdryer because it's not solar powered; so I've had to invent ways of my own scalp radiating enough heat under a towel to dry my hair. I flop around with thick airplane socks and a man sized pair of rubber sandals left by a previous occupant. I get into bed at 8pm because the lights go out shortly after, with only a pale globe run by a generator for a few hours. I've given up on the aircon heater for the same reason.
At the moment, I'm considering buying some gloves so I can type. My Mac is my best friend after dark: so I tuck it in next to me, wire the wires around the headboard so I don't garrotte myself while sleeping, plug it in (with tape as it keeps falling out) to recharge from 3am and by the time I'm awake at 6.30 with the sun, and the lek is off at 8am, Mac and Me are all wired up, ready for 8 hours of action.
I've bought a few knock off dvd's and cd's for mood, and I burn incense every morning. I bought a kettle after a ridiculous search through the back streets of Patan, but the plug won't stay in the wall long enough to boil the water; I suppose I could wait until 3am for my tea ... another ridiculous search was for Candida Pakistan Ganga's dogfood.
I've found some magnificent jewellery shops; or dusty shops with magnificent pieces! Most are very dark because - guess what - there's no light or heating - but treasures are to be found everywhere. In one, a very very old man, crumpled in a very old fraying coat, tottered around looking for keys to open his cupboard so I could see his "genuine, very old Moroccan amber"; beautiful honey coloured globs in odd shapes. As it was dark he continually fell over tibetan bells, pouffes covered in old carpets, bumped into counters, and used a torch to see his calculator. He gave me an excellent price for the amber - 100x less than anyone else - so I bought the lot! He threw in some very old rudraksha beads too ... and I paid him in USD which made him even happier. We shook hands and he blessed my mother, my father and the rest of my life, dusted his hat, jangled his keys and sent me off into the sunlight.
Every now and then I have a bit of a cry because ridiculously some part of me misses D and we did a lot here ... but then I remember .. and do some yoga breathing, and buy a cinnamon bun from the numerous cake shops and sit in the sun having milky chai and remember all the nonsense ...
I've found a yoga class to attend every day at four - none of this getting up at five to abuse my body nonsense! It's in the Himalaya Yoga Hotel - go figure - and I have a private class for 300rp an hour - $4. Yesterday was the first: where I was joined by Natasha, a woman who lives in Muscat, Oman, with her Irish husband who is "in oil", she is ex SouthHeffrikin, has family in the UK and Australia, so we had much in common, including a journey of renewed health and vigor, as she's currently fighting a virulent cancer; and not being able to move as nimbly as we would have liked! She's a fireman! I've never met a woman fireman! She has horses too, in Muscat. We had rice and dahl and tofu at a restaurant where a bonfire was lit to keep the patrons in, and warm.
I told her about the amazing find I had with real moroccan amber for only 50c a gram and she said "Does it float?" Float? We dropped it in my bottled water and it sank like a stone. Then we set fire to it with the candle on the table (no electricity remember) and in five minutes had the sweet smell of burning plastic filling the room, and six Nepalese standing around asking if these were sweets while we were shrieking with laughter at being "done"! I said I didn't mind, the poor fellow I bought it from was 90 in the shade, and covered in dust and the shop was dark and he kept falling over everything and losing his keys, and weighed the "amber'" with stones in one pan and my "amber" in the other, and held my USD up to the torch to see if it was real, so if anything, it makes a great story and I've contributed marginally to the Nepalese economy!
When I come to visit her in Oman, said Natasha, she'll put me in her "Ambassador's room" in the great big old but crumbling home they have. I have a year free ... I might even do that! Helloooo world.
I've bought a few knock off dvd's and cd's for mood, and I burn incense every morning. I bought a kettle after a ridiculous search through the back streets of Patan, but the plug won't stay in the wall long enough to boil the water; I suppose I could wait until 3am for my tea ... another ridiculous search was for Candida Pakistan Ganga's dogfood.
Wherever we go, Candida is respectably on a leash, dragging Brigette along like Ben Hur's chariot, tripping up people, upending tables, getting tangled in chairs. Now in Nepal, the natural assumption would be that if a dog is on a leash, it must be a) dangerous b) rabid c) fearsome d) dangerous e)trouble f) dangerous. Naturally, therefore, every Nepalese person within five metres of this puppy backs off fearfully, sidesteps, crosses the road or beats a hasty retreat. Every rabid, dangerous, fearsome, hungry, troublesome normal Nepalese dog not on a leash and scavening on plastic bags, gets into a fit of hysterical nipping growling and barking so that Olivia jumps into my arms, Candida is picked up, and Brigette growls some Goan dog language curse that causes the attacker to beat a hasty whimpering retreat, peeing with its tail between its legs. But getting real dogfood for Candida has proved a problem, and she's been eating all Olivia's leftovers which is usually all the toasted cheese sandwiches or spagbol.
Why, any reasonable person wonders, in a place where humans crouch at your feet grabbing your leg for donations of the gastronomical kind, would anyone spend money on dogfood? So we headed out to Patan, the 12th century town 20 minutes, 300 rupees by taxi away. On the way, Brigette halted the driver because she saw a kettle; I halted the driver because I spied a vet. The enterprise took the best part of a day, but we were rewarded with Patan. And found there is going to be a sadhu festival there on Wednesday 2nd March, where devotees come from all over India and Nepal for the Maha shivarati festival, is principally celebrated by offerings of Bael (Bilva) leaves to the Lord Shiva, all day fasting and an all night long vigil. Cannabis is traditionally used as an offering for Lord Shiva and his followers. Per scriptural and discipleship traditions, the penances are performed in order to gain boons in the practice of Yoga and meditation, in order to reach the goal more swiftly and avoid rebirth.
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| Sadhus in Patan |
Sadhus are arriving already; I've had marigold petals blessed on my head and red powder on my forehead. My camera is still working independently of me ... soon it will become a natural extension of the way I see again. To my great delight I've also realised that Holi will be celebrated while I'm here so it's going to be a visual feast. Holi was the most fun day I've had in my life, on a previous visit to India, with the departed D.
I've found some magnificent jewellery shops; or dusty shops with magnificent pieces! Most are very dark because - guess what - there's no light or heating - but treasures are to be found everywhere. In one, a very very old man, crumpled in a very old fraying coat, tottered around looking for keys to open his cupboard so I could see his "genuine, very old Moroccan amber"; beautiful honey coloured globs in odd shapes. As it was dark he continually fell over tibetan bells, pouffes covered in old carpets, bumped into counters, and used a torch to see his calculator. He gave me an excellent price for the amber - 100x less than anyone else - so I bought the lot! He threw in some very old rudraksha beads too ... and I paid him in USD which made him even happier. We shook hands and he blessed my mother, my father and the rest of my life, dusted his hat, jangled his keys and sent me off into the sunlight.
Every now and then I have a bit of a cry because ridiculously some part of me misses D and we did a lot here ... but then I remember .. and do some yoga breathing, and buy a cinnamon bun from the numerous cake shops and sit in the sun having milky chai and remember all the nonsense ...
I've found a yoga class to attend every day at four - none of this getting up at five to abuse my body nonsense! It's in the Himalaya Yoga Hotel - go figure - and I have a private class for 300rp an hour - $4. Yesterday was the first: where I was joined by Natasha, a woman who lives in Muscat, Oman, with her Irish husband who is "in oil", she is ex SouthHeffrikin, has family in the UK and Australia, so we had much in common, including a journey of renewed health and vigor, as she's currently fighting a virulent cancer; and not being able to move as nimbly as we would have liked! She's a fireman! I've never met a woman fireman! She has horses too, in Muscat. We had rice and dahl and tofu at a restaurant where a bonfire was lit to keep the patrons in, and warm.
I told her about the amazing find I had with real moroccan amber for only 50c a gram and she said "Does it float?" Float? We dropped it in my bottled water and it sank like a stone. Then we set fire to it with the candle on the table (no electricity remember) and in five minutes had the sweet smell of burning plastic filling the room, and six Nepalese standing around asking if these were sweets while we were shrieking with laughter at being "done"! I said I didn't mind, the poor fellow I bought it from was 90 in the shade, and covered in dust and the shop was dark and he kept falling over everything and losing his keys, and weighed the "amber'" with stones in one pan and my "amber" in the other, and held my USD up to the torch to see if it was real, so if anything, it makes a great story and I've contributed marginally to the Nepalese economy!
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| If anyone wants undies, just let me know, cheap as chips. |
When I come to visit her in Oman, said Natasha, she'll put me in her "Ambassador's room" in the great big old but crumbling home they have. I have a year free ... I might even do that! Helloooo world.
If it wasnt amber maybe it was frankincense, which is only found in a few places like yemen and still very spiritual and precious. I send you laughter. D
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