October 6

6:36 PM

I have been in bed all day, except for tea/breakfast and lunch. Being this sick is the last...well..actually, on the list of things I don't want to happen to me in Nepal, sick ain't bad. But removed from that list and context, sick still ain't fun. I felt kind of bad yesterday and really not so well today. Being stuck in bed all day, ("Mother" told me to rest, no walking, drink Nepalese tea, and eat light. She also is not letting me eat either anything with tomatoes in it or anything red in color, I'm not yet sure which.) I have more to write than normal days. I've been left with nothing but my mind to play with, while the others play with the kids outside. But with little energy, I've only now made it here, to my moleskin notebook. I won't write much today. I'll tell you how far the brain will go for comfort whilst the body is hindered in a foreign country village.

I've been laying in this half sleep, half wake state, hearing the world move about around me. The pigeons (which make their way into the attic space of the main house through an open window) walk on the attic floor/ceiling above my head. The ceiling is made of plywood that can't be more than 3/4 inch thick. Their sound reminds me of Bruno prancing around with toy in mouth, hitting his nails on the hardwood floor. A pigeon flying into the tin roof (if there are some out there, these are not the most clever) (it happens often) sounds and it reminds me of branches hitting the house or shed at home during a windy night. The creaking of footsteps reminds me of our house. Banging of pots. I lay here, with nothing of home besides my sister in the next room and the trinkets that I brought with me that carry much meaning and heart. I lay here and am sincerely happy to be where I am. Sincerely happy that my brain is as healthy and as easily adaptable as it is. And sincerely, genuinely, and wholly happy that the life I have made myself at home is so sincerely worth missing.

P.S. I have never, never in my life been so excited to taste something and find it is ketchup and so, so very devastated when said ketchup has been taken away because "Mother" says "No Risse sauce." Boo.

P.P.S. The pigeons really are stupid. They get into the attic then have quite a fit trying to figure their way out. We figure that if they're not out by nightfall, they become rat food. After sunset, the noises from above change from pigeon (land, pat, waddle, tap, tap, tap, tap, coooo) to epic pigeon-rat fight to the death (slam, bang, run, scratch, screech, bang, scratch, scratch, run, run, run). I like to imagine the rats are in Mexican wrestling masks and the pigeons...I took a decent amount of time to think through this one and realized I image them to be just pigeons. Their only advantage lying in their numbers. I guess the winner is not a hard thing to figure.

I plan to feel better tomorrow. In 5 days, we bungy.