October 1

7:00 AM

Happy Birthday Sidonie!!

Yesterday was great fun! We woke up to see the sunrise at 4, only to find there was no sun until 6 AM. Around 7 (I couldn't sleep), I finally went next to Chanel's bed and told her the world was awake. Hinting that we should be too. I would have sang it but we are staying in a hostel with all other volunteers for our organization. May not have made so many friends that way.

We woke up and walked around. Though the world is very much awake and alive--the english academy's children playing basketball and, from my view on the rooftop two courtyards away, what seems to be some mash-up of tennis and foursquare, the cooing of pigeons, barking, banging of pots, more honking than I've ever heard in one place (what a sign at their airport called a means of self-expression), lots of distant talking, screaming, laughing, with all the hustle and bustle of a US metropolis but with a much different feeling--the street vendors (what it appears all businesses are here) do not open until 8 AM. They were all outside sweeping with their funny lookin' brooms.

We decided to wait for breakfast at 8 and then we'd try again. For breakfast we were fed a crepe-like pancake that Parkhas (sp?), the cook/host father, put bananas into. The actions of everyone else told me I was supposed to put some version of Nutella (white and brown chocolate swirls) onto it and fold it up. It was delicious. A sweeter breakfast than I am used to but it worked out for me.

Ever since we've arrived here I have been craving and enjoying chocolate like it's one of the world's beautiful wonders and it is only found here. I very rarely crave chocolate at home. So, given its rarity, the breakfast was perfect. It was served with a chai-like tea. Also very good. That curbed my craving for my other chocolate-colored love, coffee.

After breakfast, we left the hostel again in search of a bank. The one bank we found did not open until 10, so we walked a bit to buy a phone. We got it for 1400 rupees. And it has a lovely icon of Michael Jackson on the back. We came back to the hostel, attempted to make a few calls and then made our way out the door.

We wanted to go to Thamel, the tourist capital of Kathmandu. We were told to take two buses. The first from Kalanki to Ratnapark. That one went okay. Squeezed in to what I can only explain is a mini cooper version of an astro van with at times 13-14 other people (makes you seriously question the difference in concepts of personal space). It was fun to do it the right way, the true Nepalese way. Then we go to find the bus to Thamel. We are directed by our very adorable "bus boy" to the Thamel-bus corner.

Now, I guess I should explain this. The traffic is bonkers, just to start you off. There are no rules. We find ourselves in a land where if you can fit, you have a right to be there. And on the busy corners there are these blue mini buses. There is a driver and, what I am calling, a bus boy. The bus boys, who all seem to be under 20, call out the names of the cities they are dropping off to, rapid fire. Quicker than any foreigner could ever understand, not to mention its mostly an effort to try to understand them when they speak English. So, you see our problem.

We say Thamel. They say Thamel, like its a question. We say Thamel again, like its an answer. They shake their yes, with one last Thamel, directing us into their bus. And off we go.

We ride this bus for about 45 minutes, the number of people ranging from uncomfortable (though we were happy to be there :) ) to if this cute old Nepalese man denies the existence of my foot under his for two more minutes...no forget it. He's too adorable. I'll deal with pancake feet.

We get off the bus and start wandering around. We got lunch at The Bakery. Both of our waiters were deaf and the man who brought us our food was part albino. It was a very pleasant lunch. When the small person came up to us to ask us where we were from and so on (and that the fact that we came from the US and ended up eating at his restaurant made him happy), we asked him if we were in Thamel. Yes. We asked another. Yes. We go to an internet access room located in a Japanese-English language academy. We then pull up a map and ask them to point out where we are on the map. The real answer? No. By an hour east of Thamel, no.

We got lost! It was great fun. The people at the academy laughed at our story with us. They were so kind. And eager to practice their English. "Please, if you don't mind, how did you get here? Why did you come?" So sweet.

We found a taxi--to be sure we ended in Thamel--and were off once more.

We went to their New Orleans Cafe. A menu complete with Hurricanes and Jambalaya. We walked around. Got lost some more. Went to Pilgrim's Bookstore. Ate at the Funky Buddha. Taxi home. Bliss.