Perspective a la Decrescendo

Life ebbs and flows. So, unfortunately, does my churning stomach and frequent toilet visits. I'm sick. I have traveller's dysentery, which everyone said I would get. And guess what? It sucks. Then I remind myself that it could be much, much worse. I'm reminded of tearing my ligaments in Peru at the beginning of my five week journey around South America. I'm reminded of the little parasites that resided in my belly for a spell in Guatemala. I pass an old man on the street with gouged eyes and stumps for limbs begging for money as I shield my eyes with a lotioned arm and return to my hotel garden to sip some tea. The other day, I was riding straight up a rock peppered dirt road in the rain and I said "this is torture." Just then, I looked at the side of the road and saw five Nepalis bent over doing back breaking work in their rice fields. At least their actions are productive - and I doubt they complain of torture - not until the Maoists come, anyway. All in all, my life, with bugs, bouts, etc. is charmed and I have no right to complaint. However, I feel a bit down these days and want to write about it.
I am tired of being hassled on the streets of Kathmandu: "one rupee, I'm hungry," "rickshaw madam?," "want to buy...," "namaste, where you from?," "are you married?," and so on...I am tired of meeting ex pat men who live in Kathmandu and within 30 minutes receiving a proposal to be their lover while I am here. "I want to touch you" seems to be the phrase of choice as they look longingly across the table directly into my eyes and I am grateful that this culture dictates full coverage of all limbs so that only my face is exposed. It's funny, in San Francisco, there were never enough men to actually come forward and BE manly. Here, the ex pat men ARE manly - there is the reporter, the photographer, a UN worker, an escapist romantic, a scientist - yet there is something so sad and desperate when each man says the same thing in the same way: "I want to touch you." I retort that it is pointless without love and they say love is pointless and doesn't last. Who's right? I don't intend to find out in this way. How strange the world is.
Kathmandu has lost it's lustre somewhat. I am tired. I am fatigued by my gut and spend time in my hotel room watching Aljezeera news broadcast. It is much better than US news coverage and I am reminded of the main source of American information - the media - and wish that more Americans would look outside, perhaps online, to see what other perspectives there are on the world and current affairs. I was talking with the UN employee last night (it's a small ex pat community in Kathmandu, so we frequently see eachother out and about) and the UN is leaving Nepal as the elections are over. His next station? Iraq. All I could say was "God Bless Iraq." Where that came from, I don't know. Perhaps the desperate situtation with all of the militias fighting for survival and a weak government with no one to lead the people out of chaos. This has been created by the Americans who failed to think of the long term repurcussions...right? How could this have happened? Where is there any end in sight? It makes me very sad to think about it. It makes me even more sad to look at this bright man who will soon go there, by choice, to document the goings on. I hope he finds somebody to love him. I wish the same for the Iraqi people - I hope they find a strong leader to love them back to peace.
I spent five hours yesterday trying to find a bra to buy. I ended up on the other side of town and finally found a stash hidden in a corner. The selection was coarse and ugly. The Nepali women adorn themselves so beautifully with headscarves and colorful prints. It's surprising that this loveliness doesn't go all the way down to lingerie. Instead, it seems like a shameful necessity. It makes me appreciate the choice and freedom women have in America.
Likewise, the lack of sanitation around the hotel and the frequent power outages in the hotel that last two hours only to be greeted by the surrounding neighbors with little cheers when it comes back on make me appreciate american cleanliness and efficiency. As I walk the streets of Kathmandu and witness or experience near collissions of rickshaws, people, little children, bicycles, cars, motorcycles, signs jutting out on the road and dogs - all heading in several directions all at once on a tiny little street - I am grateful for the traffic lights and safety regulations of the United States. I have a soar throat due to all of the traffic and pollution in Nepal - just taking a cab across town made me sick and soar. It's gross. Of course, this makes me appreciate the clean, fresh air of San Francisco.
I will leave Kathmandu shortly. I looked into other activities in Nepal and unfortunately have come at precisely the wrong time. No trekking due to muddy trails that are slippery and dangerous going up with lots of leaches and severly impaired visibility of all mountains and views due to rain clouds. Lodges in the National Park where tigers and rhinos and elephants live are closed during the monsoon season, muddy roads/trails are impassible, leaches are everywhere. The rivers are too high for rafting. Sightseeing is okay as long as you factor in two to three rainstorms a day. That brings me to reconsider whether I want to trek through the Valley in the rain with a guide to a saddhu in the woods, to lakes and to a monastery..right now. I caught a glimpse of one snow covered Himalaya yesterday from my hotel room and it took my breath away - I must come back when it is not monsoon. Moral of the story is plan ahead when you book a ticket somewhere. Big whoops on my part.
Ladakh in India sounds absolutely beautiful by all accounts - monasteries, trekking, rafting and a beautiful, clear, peaceful landscape. That, after all, is what I came to Nepal for, and will return to Nepal to enjoy some other day. Not now.
Now, I will go to the pharmacy and cash some more traveller's checks. The shopping scene here is overwhelming and I'm tired. I'll come back to the hotel and read, do some yoga, meditate, breathe my hotelroom air and practice my waterpainting. I'll take a bath. I just feel tired today. I am lucky, I know. But, today, I am tired.