It will be a difficult task to document every, single detail from over here in Nepal. I could begin by listing the number of children that have thrown water bombs at me and others in anticipation of the festival Holi. This would be followed by the ominous extra tidbit, where I mention that these innocent water bombs will soon be filled with dye or paint to colour me crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if they specifically target foreigners and keep a point system going with their friends. OR I could try and list the numbers of images of Sai Baba adorning the walls of my host mother's home http://sathya-sai-baba.org/pic/sathya_sai_baba.jpg

the number of things i could write here is endless already. i saw a box of memory tea today in a giant supermarket/ everything complex, perhaps if I began a stringent memory-tea-drinking regime it will help when I relay tales of Nepal onto this blog? Mebe, but not likely.

The difficulty in documenting everything aside, I will attempt to tell tales of my time here as they come to mind.

Beginning with the Tibetan New year:
Tibetan new year was seen in by myself and Anna, a German girl who is also living with me. It was centered around the Boudha, this beautiful stupa http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boudhanath
When we arrived, the formal celebration of this 15 day long event was drawing to a close, and the party time was beginning. the sound system was blaring loud, loud Tibetan music, controlled by a d.j in a cowboy hat at a laptop, bobbing his head in the universally used d.j style. In a constantly adding, dividing, and multiplying circle people danced, men in fuzzy hats (their ears must have been burning as it was pretty hot), girls in traditional dress, and old women recapturing their youth better than any aging cream could do. As i enjoy watching how people interact with each other, I was amazed by the lack of self-awareness held by the dancers. They were truly enjoying themselves, and were unbelievably happy.
Perhaps they were happy because this year there would be more months in the Tibetan year? Last year there were only 9 months or so. Isn't that amazing?! The Tibetans can change the time!

As I was picking through crowds, I walked past a little boy carefully holding a cup of milk tea in his hands, which could not span the width of the bottom of the little cup-extra care was needed. He gently placed his cup on the edge of a blue plastic chair. It precariously balanced on the edge, and so as not to tip it, he balanced himself on the very corner. And so he sat, he slowly brought the cup up to his mouth, admist roaring Tibetan music, singing monks, and the blur of dresses.

And to food:
In short, amazing.
Sadly, my appetite was lost somewhere between Auckland and Kathmandu airport, and I am left picking up the pieces of a depressed stomach who does not want food. Be that as I may, I am still trying everything that comes my way including (but in no means limited to) momos, dhal baat, thukpa, cucumber raita, vegetable curries, one cup of nice coffee, Nepali banana cake (a distinct take on banana cake all of it's own) and others.
I have yet to get used to eating rice for breakfast.

On the plus side, I have been told my appetite will return in the next couple of weeks.  On a side note, don't get the fish on airplanes, I never ate it, but the smell, it infected all the vegetables around my plate. Bleugh.

Destitution and desperation:
The only homeless people I am used to are Blanket Man and the man on Courtenay Place who juggles. I am not used to dozens. The other day a woman approached Anna and I carrying her tiny baby and am empty baby bottle. "Milk, please Miss, my baby needs milk, in the shop ahead, will you buy some milk? Please, for my baby."
What to do? Do you give the woman some milk, or not?
If you give one person something, where is the line drawn as to how many people you must give money to? Moreover, HOW do you give money to a woman when you know that a similar woman exists in different part of town, a woman who each day has different children around her, and she uses them as a means to beg for "please Miss, money for my children?"
We said no, and tried to walk faster than this extremely speedy woman, baby and all.
A right decision is harder to call here, harder than parting with a few dollars to one man with a couple of juggling balls.

Lastly, the culture shock:
I awoke at 4am-ish yesterday morning to the noise of barking dogs, and after lying awake for the next two hours, came to the realisation that I was stuck in Nepal for the next three months. Stuck with the food, the lack of home comfort, stuck with the unfamiliar noises, faces, smells, and rupees. It was a painful, rude awakening, and a bit shattering. No doubt amplified by the lack of regular sleeping patterns, the unfamiliar food, and those idiot dogs. I spent the day curled up in bed, sleeping and trying to remind myself of why I was here in Nepal. Surprisingly, despite all the sleep I had during that day, I managed to sleep all night also. I awoke this morning with an improved, positive outlook, and even managed to eat fried rice at 8am.