Only moments before departure for the Sindhupalchok district, I learn my three day trip is suddenly six. If I were to ask why, I'd get "Welcome to Nepal." I have learned not to ask.
Yet again confirm that the "What sounds does this animal make in your language?" conversation can bridge even the most formidable language gap and delights and amuses children and adults alike. But you have to be willing to make an absolute idiot of yourself to get it started. I am that idiot.
Suddenly realize my host usually means "or" instead of "and." A lot of things fall into place. Including my weirder than usual breakfast.
I have become that grubby child in my kindergarten class that was always wiping his nose on his shirt (Tony E., I'm looking at you). An unfortunate resurgence of a childhood sun and dust allergy has turned my entire face into a faucet, with nary a tissue in sight. I will burn this shirt when this is over. Burn it with the heat of a thousand suns.
|But for the dust, you'd see the behemoths Himalaya|
Could I PLEASE stop sticking my head in cobwebs???
Learn my daily morning tea is made with freshly milked water buffalo milk. Assiduously ignore this information, drink tea. It's delicious.
|Boiling tea in a tin cup...an exercise in patience. And burned fingers.|
Wake up because something jumps/lands on my legs. Decide I don't care which, and I'll save the panic for if it burrows under the covers. Go back to sleep.
Finally understand that if you're going to use the squatty potty, you must fully embrace the squat. Hovering gets you peed on.
Waiting to start the five-mile hike down to the bus, I study the 18 days of hair growth on my legs in the early morning light. Realize hair doesn't grow on the back of my legs anymore. Must get this condition to spread.
|Met on the road on the way down the mountain. I feel like such a wimp.|
|Ladies off to cut brush to feed their livestock.|