But how do you live up to Noah?

I found this buried away. I don't know why I didn't publish it right away, but there seems to be no harm in doing so now. Maybe someone will have something interesting to say about it.

Dear all,

Tonight, I'm not even sure why I'm writing to you all. I've been in a funny sort of mood today and I feel like maybe I can write it out of me. I woke up this morning feeling 100% sure today was going to be something special. I just knew, and I mean knew the way you know the spring follows the winter, or the way you know that even when you can't see it, the sun is just behind the clouds..I knew today something important and magical was going to happen. It was a funny sort of feeling, just because I had no idea where it came from or what it was I was waiting for. In fact, when I find myself in these kinds of moods, I often wonder if I've finally gone and lost my mind completely. And yet, that's the feeling I had a few days before, on a whim, I agreed to take my little sister's friend's plane ticket and visit Nepal for the first time. In fact, it's a feeling I've come to know well. Sometimes, the "magic" ends up being something small, and in all fairness, I probably only noticed it because I was looking for it. But other times, this feeling means I'm changing. It means some idea, some bigger understanding is finally falling in to place and my life is about to change to reflect this new me. Unfortunately, it may also mean I've got a good week to week and a half of staring off into space and pondering things which probably never needed pondering.

But now that the day is finished, the feeling has changed. There were a million moments today that could have been magical, but I can't pick one out as being that "one" moment. And yet, now I find myself feeling as though that moment has indeed past, and now I just have to wait for the effects to finish playing out.

I'm trying to think back through the day at all those moments:
The moment I saw that one smile I've been addicted to since the first time I saw it. The only smile I've ever literally walked miles just to see. (Don't read too much in to that. It's only a smile after all)
The pride I felt when I remembered at lunch the way my little one acted the other day while we were out for a walk. (There was a big dog picking on a smaller one and she spent a good 30 minutes demanding that the big dog say sorry to the little one.)
The way I laughed at the little white lie I told while out shopping today.
The way I recovered from my self induced stress attack because one shopkeeper decided to be just a little generous.
The melting sensation I had at my massage today, and the hour of mediation that followed.
The way my heart soared and then sank at the sound of Nat King Cole's voice in the restaurant this evening.
The crash that followed talking with my brother and the amazement that some of my friends seem to have a sixth sense for when I need to hear from them.
The confusion I felt at hearing from those very friends, and not knowing where exactly they fit in to my life.
The clarity of my decision, followed immediately by a new ocean of doubt.
The words:

Even if you don't know what you want,
buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.

Start a huge, foolish project,
like Noah.

It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.

Maybe it was realizing that I am in fact a lot like Mary Poppins.
Maybe it was none of these moments, or maybe it was some combination. All I know is that now I feel relaxed, and patient, and yet anxious to see what's coming.

But for now, I'm just going to bury myself deeper in Rumi and friends, and hope things sort themselves out just like they seem to be promising to.




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Mom and Dad have arrived!!

Hey All,

Just a quick note to say that yes, my parents have arrived safely and are settling in nicely. We didn't do too much the first day they arrived, but yesterday we explored Pashupati temple and Patan's Durbar Square in the afternoon, followed by a delicious dinner with Didi and Dai and the baby. (I think that was the best part of the day for all of us!) This morning we walked from the hotel to Boudha Stuppa and then we headed over to Assan for some shopping and to see Hanuman Dhoka. It was a great time and if I get the chance I'll post more on our adventures together, but for now, please check out the photos I've posted to the slideshow boxes.

Oh and we saw the Kumari today! But more on that later, I promise.

More adventures to follow! Love you all!
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Making new friends is always an adventure

Dear all,

As some of you already know, I'm back in kathmandu, eagerly awaiting a visit from my parents. In fact, they will be here (if all goes according to plan) in less than 24 hours! Predictably, I'm all a flutter, and I spent most of the day running here and there to make sure everything was as ready for their arrival as I could manage it.

And it was in the midst of all this running around that I met my new friend. I was walking to a nearby store when I first spotted him. He was standing just a ways down the street from me with a look on his face that I've come to know very well. It's a face I often see on tourists around the Thamel area, and it universally translates to "oh my god, I'm so lost." I generally stop and offer help if there is any indication that my tourist in distress speaks english or spanish, so I took a quick inventory of the most recent victim I'd stumbled upon. He was tall and white, in a black north face style jacket and I guessed he was American, so I walked over to him and asked "Where are you trying to get to?"

Usually the answer to this question is "Thamel", which always makes me laugh because it often comes from tourists already in Thamel, but this time the answer was very different. After a moment of confusion, he managed to say "I from Russia. Russian? " Now it was my turn to be confused. Of course, I don't speak Russian, but while I tried to figure out what to say next, he started speaking very quickly in the most broken english I've ever heard (and trust me, I've learned to speak English through the lens of several languages). I managed to catch the letters U.N. and so I figured he was working for one of the U.N. development programs. "Ok", I thought, "We're in luck. If he's U.N. staff, he must speak Nepali." So I switched over to Nepali and repeated my original question. He managed to say that his nepali wasn't good, but it was clear that it was actually terrible. So now we were back at square one.

It was at this point that I noticed he was clinging to a small business card as though it were a string of prayer beads, and so I motioned that I'd like to see the card. He handed it over to me, and to my dismay I found it only had the name of a neighborhood and the name of a shop written on it. I don't know what jerk thought that would be enough for this poor guy who speaks neither English nor Nepali to find anything, but I knew right away he was never going to make it anywhere without a full intervention. So I grabbed him by the arm and towed him to the nearest shop with a female shopkeeper. Then I politely asked her how to get to Sundhara (the neighborhood he was looking for.) Fortunately, Nepalis are generally very helpful when it comes to directions, so she pointed us in the right direction and told me we were about a 15 min walk away. So I once again grabbed a hold of my new friend and towed him in the direction the woman had indicated. Of course, because I didn't know where we were going either, I stopped every other block or so to ask other shopkeepers for directions. Finally, someone explained to me that the shop we were looking for was a hair salon in Kathmandu mall.

Looking back on it, I realize now that my friend had also tried to explain that he was going to get a haircut, but I hadn't understood the first time through. In fact, the poor guy tried his hardest to keep up a conversation the entire time, as I pulled him through side alleys and traffic. But with questions like, "Your American friend kathmandu is big?", we didn't really get very far. Still, the whole thing was so silly, I couldn't help but enjoy myself, and I found myself giggling through most of our pathetic exchanges.

Finally, we found ourselves standing in the salon. And once again, I wanted to hit whomever had given him that stupid card. The salon was by far the fanciest salon I'd seen in Kathmandu, and it was full of upper class Nepali guys who looked like they'd walked right out of a fashion photo shoot in New York or some equally trendy place. This was no place for my simple seeming Russian friend. But what could I do?
So I marched him up to the counter and for some reason, I turned to him expecting him to explain either to me, or the fashion plate behind the desk what he wanted. Eager to please and by now a little flustered, he held his hand near his head and made a scissor motion with his hand. The guy behind the counter looked disgusted and told me in perfect english, "He can tell me what he wants in English. I understand." I tried to calm the now disgruntled stylist by explaining to him that my friend only speaks Russian. But then I had to try to explain how I'd found myself in a salon with a guy I didn't know, who didn't share a single language with me. I started to say that I found him on the street, but that didn't sound right in any language. Then I tried to explain that I didn't know what he wanted any more than the stylist did, but that didn't help the situation. Finally defeated, I asked when the stylist could fit my friend in for a quick simple haircut. We agreed that he'd see my friend in an hour and by pointing at the time on his cellphone and showing him one finger, it seemed that my Russian friend finally understood that he would need to come back an hour later.

By this time, I was running incredibly late for my own appointments (I have salsa class on tuesdays and while I love a good deed every once in awhile, dancing is still my oxygen.)So I tried to leave him at the salon and started walking back out to the street. But like any other lost puppy, he started to follow me. I thought maybe he didn't understand that he was supposed to wait, but then he said "Seven." Just like that, as though it were a complete thought. Funnily, I understood it as though it had been. He was asking if he could call me at seven. I rushed through an Ok, eager to get my shopping done before class. Fortunately, seven o clock has come and gone without a phone call. Not that I didn't like the guy or anything, but I just can't imagine how we would manage a phone call. It would be impossible.

Still, a part of me hopes I'll run in to him again on the street, just so I can hear the rest of the story (and maybe see what those stylish boys did to his head :P). But next time I see him I hope he's with a friend who knows at least one of the five languages I speak.

Anyway, I hope you find my day as entertaining as I did and I'll be writing about my parents' adventure very soon. All my love and some of my giggles to you all!! Read more on "Making new friends is always an adventure"!