Flight from Adelaide to Kathmandu via Kuala Lumpur was .... long. But being met at the airport after 11pm was a bonus. Driving through the dark streets of Kathmandu surrounded by 3 and 4 storey black buildings was weird. Everything seemed smaller. The Yeti Guest Home in Thamel is clean, friendly and convenient. Meeting Mann, who took us to the home of the young man that Ed has sponsored for nearly 6 years was another eye-opener. That families can be so resilient with so little is heart warming. This family of five live in one room probably smaller than our tiny hotel room. There was a bed either end, then a tiny two burner cooker on the "kitchen space". The caring family sent out a courier to get us a cold bottle of Coke and borrowed glasses. The window on one wall was an ornamental circle - with a plastic covering that was pulled down in then really cols weather. Because this was in amongst so many other houses, I wondered if the rain would actualu get through.
We had one humorous moment when the neighbour dropped a few pots on then ground, a sound that carried easily into our house. Pradip's mum cheerfully spoke to her through the brick wall, and she answered as cheerfully. I have no idea what was actually said.
Although I wondered how this family managed, with a tiny plastic pot with less than 200gm of lentils on one shelf, among small jars of oil and spices. We knew that both parents had returned from work to see us (Mum sweeps for a shop and Dad sells a local musical instrument to tourists), so they were both forgoing an income just to greet us. This was so clear when we shared a carefully broken walnut between the honoured visitors.
We went shopping with Pradip. Named brands are a similar price to Australia, and knock offs are cheaper, but again a lesser quality. But Pradip knew where he wanted to shop, finding Nike shoes and jeans. It certainly is too hot for synthetic clothing, so I tried to buy a cotton top. In Asia, I can always see plenty of women who are bigger than me, but rarely can find where they but their clothes. This city is no different, so I finally asked Mann to help me. Gee, asking a 35 year old man who said he never bought things for either his wife or daughter might have been a huge mistake, but he found a sari and material shop with the most amazing colours. So when I asked for something boring, both he and the women in the shop were unimpressed. Amid the vibrant pinks, yellows and sparkly purples, I found a piece of less colourful blue/green that could be made into a kurta. I walked down a tiny back street to a tailor, who charged 250R (about $3) to make a simple elbow length cotton top. 1300R all up. (About $15)
The "main road" in the Thamel area is more congested around midday than it was in the taxi after midnight. Bikes, bicycles, small cars and the occasional 4wd (often white) wind around people, and gaudy bicycle rickshaws. Walkers will tap on the side of a car to indicate that there is room for it turn or cross. I love the collegiate atmosphere. The inevitable "beep, beep" can be annoying, but most people are generous and move behind a slower vehicle or person. Crossing the road is certainly a vehicle by vehicle manoeuvre. So the one way streets always seem to have a few going in the opposite direction. I need to look more carefully to see the make of the cars. Regardless, they seem to be less than 1100cc. And white. Taxi drivers wave to either side of the street regardless of the traffic flow, and when full - with 5 or 6 in the tiny cars, move at about 30kph, so motor bikes do seem to be the best mode of transport. Today I saw a rickshaw with a rusty old washing machine squashed into the front. There was a man on either side, balancing it.
Lunch back at Jesse James bar was tempura vegetables, buffalo wings and chicken mayo sandwiches. Getting money from an ATM was more of an adventure for a young Dutch woman, who could not read the English. I suspect that her machine had run out of money. But another ultimately spat out 35000R for me. So that plus the $US 50 I changed at the airport showed me notes for 5R, 10R, 20R ( usually grubby), then 100, 500 and 1000. At least one has an elephant. My foot massage was no where as good as any in Hanoi.
Walking back to get my new shirt took us past an old wooden temple, so now I am thinking I might need to get a guide book of some type. Gorka beer opposite the Northfield Cafe, then washing.
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