the art of getting to nepal...

and a messy piece of art it is indeed.

Friday, Saturday & Sunday
January 11, 12, & 13th, 2008
(excerpts from a weary wanderer)

I sit here next to a big plant waiting on yet another flight in Dubais. At 1:10am, this unexpected stop reminds me of Times Square on New Years Eve. It's a flurry as each person scurries to destinations all over the world...literally. My seven airports to get to Kathmandu (a personal record) have been the upscale version of all my many Greyhound adventures in the US.

Even though traveling around the world makes one painfully aware of how alone one is, it also has given me 3 days to watch--to be the scopophile I truly am. So whether it was the Indian baby girl with eyes as big as buckeyes, the African American women who informed me in Memphis of my canceled flights and quickly reconciled my noticeable angst, the teenage Pakastani girl with her RunDMC tee shirt and her gentle father who wished me safe travels, the African boy with the long neck that kept peering past his mother's shoulder, the efficiency of the Dutch, the gossiping Philipino flight attendant, or the Japanese man who so fittingly fulfilled his stereotype by videotaping the airport, I have had my eyes and ears open to snoring, laughter, eye color, and the brilliance of languages.

The sun set on Memphis as I said 'adieu,' making the Mighty Mississip a mixed hue of pink, orange, purple. By next morning, the water's horizon outside of Amsterdam allowed the new sun to break its surface. With all of my hatred fueled to the act of traveling by plane, sitting atop clouds has never ceased to amaze me. i can only imagine that this is where fairy tales are created--in the midst of clouds, in the neighborhood of stardust. One's creativity can't help but dance at such great heights.

The rare moments of silence, conversations with stars, glimpses of hope and adventure, pauses of contentment, and prayer for guidance and strength are what I try and focus on instead of the oppressive emotions of loneliness, fear, soreness, sluggishness, etc. that are always inevitable.

Fun fact: I was literally the only woman on the plane from Doha to Bahrain, and one of three from Bahrain to Kathmandu. Um, strange. Just strange.
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Monday, July 14th















And then I met Britta at our guest house. Planes were done for the time being, and I was able to catch up with a good friend. The months that remain ahead of us have only been seen with excitement by our contacts, Ashmira and Guru, here in Kathmandu. Within the confines of such a chaotic and colorful city of 3 million, both of them have greeted us as friends, as members of a global community. They work for the volunteer organizations that we are going through in Harka and have made our transition into such a foreign land inviting and comfortable by settling our questions and exciting our future time in Nepal.















The stares are frequent even as we stay these first few days in the tourist section of Kathmandu. Britta even got a, "you're tall," from a guy on the street. Observant, that fella. We will spend tomorrow in our language/cultural class with an added tour around the city. A couple scenes from today's travels can be seen here...We've already found a Walden Bookstore (seen above) because evidently Thoreau's influence has crossed over to the Himalayas--crazy Naturalists. And the 16th we're off to Chitwan to start our 2 month stay at Harka--hooray!!