I posted one section so as not to do overload. Now it is another 530 in the morning, I went up on the roof to see the dark of the night change into orange and then the blue bustle of the new day. I dont know how, but pretty much everyday since Ive gotten here I have woken up at 6am, which for all of you who know me is a little crazy. I am enjoying the early morning air though...
I ended abruptly with the bike trip - such freedom!
The quick continuation is that from Baktapor we got on a bus to Nagarkot, and when I say got on I mean in the literal sense- on top of the bus! The 6 of us and our bikes joined the other 20 some people already on top to enjoy the air conditioning of the gods, which quickly turned into the spitting of the gods as it poured for the entire trip. I had an amazing time talking to university students who want to be teachers who asked me if people are poor in America/Israel, if we have villages like they have, arranged marriages, religions, everything. As we passed through crowds of children covered in dirt and huts doubling as stores and houses for whole families, one of them looked at me and said "Our poverty becomes beautiful in other country's eyes, yeah?". Nepalis are true poets.
I was happy to be on top of the bus because I could not see as clearly where he road ended and the drop began, surely a minimal amount of space and wheels of the bus just touching over the edge at times. For our bike ride back, we used the same road, and wondered as I griped the right break (back wheel, hard for me because I'm a lefty and grab that from instinct) how cars in both directions and bikes fit on to this narrow highway. Lets just say that my hands were red and cramped from holding the breaks the entire downhill adventure.
Once we got back into the city there was even less room since pollution was taking up so much space, and theres no bikelanes- yet the seem to have some order to it all, its amazing. It took me a while to get used to the fact that they honk not to tell you to get out of the way, but more as a gesture to let you know they are there all the time. I didnt know how to say "Excuse me" in Nepali and I didnt have a bell, so when I needed people to move I would just scream "Namaste!!!"
The village itself was a wierd experience. Its a tourist area and all the children have been conditioned to ask for money for anything. We sat and spoke to a group of 3 sisters, just practicing our Nepali and laughing with them, and in the end they asked for money. In my head, I was wondering how actually different that is from New York, where also everyone is working and trying to get money for everything, and I thought about how they would do if they encountered the rest of the world's system of money-making.
I also went for a really nice walk though the woods off the path a bit more, stumbling upon this house that this family lives in, altogether acting as a community. It was beautiful, along a clearing in the path overlooking the rest of the villages and countryside. I stopped for a bit at this huge tree with winding roots and vines and and moss all along it, so lush and alive.
What a wonderful weekend... I decided I really want to bike from one country to another at one point. The idea of knowing that I was the force that brought me over the border is beonyd exhilirating to me! Anyone interested in joining me?
