Belly of the Whale

So I have found a remedy to one more problem: microsoft word has strangely become uninstalled, at least partially on my computer. It has something to do with these foreign plugs/outlets I'm sure. Nothing has come easily in the last month. But this may be a nice remedy, this online journal that is. Using the internet is about fifty-cents an hour here - and it is right down stairs.

Kathmandu is the craziest place. Unless you have been somewhere like northern Africa or India (so I am told), you can scarcely imagine the traffic. South and Central American traffic pales, pales in comparison. Truly, it is shocking. There are no lanes, no traffic signs, no traffic laws to speak of - nothing, no police to repeal such anarchy. Bicycles, tuk-tuks (three-wheeled taxis), rick-shaws, motoribikes, cabs, buses, and pedestrians, no sidewalks, all in an old-Spain style narrow street. It is chaos! And what adds extra challenge is that, for unknown reason, the pedestrians chose to walk with the traffic as opposed to against it as we do in the U.S. So the oncoming traffic is coming up behind you, not in front where you can dodge or jump. A result is that cars, bikes, everything that has a horn is honking it continuously to give them a sense of place. Chaos. I met a girl who has been hit three times. The traffic never gets going very fast. Crossing the road is the real trick. It is like being a boulder out in a swift stream. I see old women who simply walk out and the traffic moves around them until they miraculously makes the other shore to safty. These people are brilliant. At round-abouts and unmarked crossroads I can only compare the movement to a school of fish moving together - there is no seeming sense or logic to it, but somehow everyone converges, compensates, and moves on. In a way, the chaos is sort of beautiful. (Though, it also makes me feel inadaquate as I have no idea of how I could drive in such conditions.)
However, as it stands right now, I have to commute for forty-five minutes through it to the monastery where I will start working tomorrow on the other side of town. Kathmandu is a sprawling, L.A. like, three-million people. It is very geared for tourism and the venders are aggressive like the north-africans. However, unlike many other places, these merchants have really nice wares, really beautiful things - brass work, old carved wood peices, rugs, statues. I may buy a few things to bring home. I love the brass bowls (Tibetan singing bowls).
I have met some nice people already, other volunteers mostly. I met a traveler while at lunch today who told me about this website. I hope someone besides me reads this thing.

I think the food here is very good. The restaurants are cheap: I've been spending about two dollars, two-fifty for a lot of food. Curries, Dahl, Chineses, Thai - anything wih rice or noodles. I have liked it all thus far. My included breakfast is only served at eight-thirty and consists of toast and tea - so I may be eating out for breakfast as well as lunch. I think I will be able to get my lunches at the monastery before work.
I don't know much about my teaching yet; tomorrow I will start to learn. I feel like I am starting from zero and I really don't know what they expect of me. I don't think they have pens or paper. I feel they are a bit unpleased that I am not staying longer - but they don't have anyone else. THey actually do - someone teaches the children and I will teached the more advanced class. It will be very small as the room is not much bigger than the closet I used to live in on Front St.

So I am not yet comfortable; my mind is not yet right. Everything remains a challenge, difficult, my cards are not coming up. I still think about Libby, Stu, and Genny - all have lost so gravely. I am always thinking about you. Also I am hyperconscious of these omens as they come to bare on my own life- the markers which they set for my karma. I have to be aware all the time; I can't gamble and win; I can't take the risks that so characterize my happiness - even my computer has left me, everything. Nothing is easy anymore; I am on the downswing. I feel tired. I want that good luck, the good karma, but it is no longer the time for me. This is the time where I earn it through hard work and perseverance. Anne - it is the jumping into ice-cold, ice-covered water because I know I must.
But success remains the same. All I have to do is simple: I have to read; I have to write; I have to teach. If I do these things - and I do not stop, I do not give in to resentment or anguish or frustration - my time here will reward me. Any other successes I find only augment those primaries - trekking, friendship, religious learning. This makes me smile. I know I can persevere if that is what it comes to. Honestly, this how it feels right now. THings change but this stage is new in my life. Everything has been so good for so long. School has been such a gem, such ease and beauty. I have been riding a high happy wave for a long time, longer than I can remember being on top for so long, my wave length has grown as I have grown. I hope the down stretch does not last for a simular duration. Even if it does, the wave is rising. The downcycle feels as the upcycle once did.

I am so excited for the fall. I miss Wendy and I have so much in school I want to get back to. I have new friends that are exciting; I love my house; I love the opportunities that are coming my way in Missoula right now.

I think I am more in the present than I may sound. A new friend and I got lost on buses trying to get back to Thamel (where I live) and had an excellent adventure. We wound up on the opposite side of town playing billiards in an alleyway saloon on the nicest table I have seen in years. It was great. That is what I love about traveling. Strangeness. I haven't laughed so much in three months probably. I think the bus enjoyed our laughter.

Since I don't know how to work this site, I am going to stop and figure it all out. I have been rambling but it has been fun. I really haven't written since I left LA. I haven't even said a think about Bangkok - I got bit by a fuckin dog - the bastard! I saw some sad things and then lost all of those pictures. Nothing is easy, you see. THere is only one, that only now, I realize I will miss: a baby a sleep, alone, in the rain on the side of a street in the night.