paravomit

Thankfully, by 330 I was nestled in at Lemon Tree Cafe. For some reason the remedy that was pervasive throughout my childhood for many different sorts of ailments was noodles with butter and cheese. LTC had this remedy, and since my homestay sister suggested milk to be a cure for nausea I ordered a papaya-yogurt shake. "What ails you?" you might or might not be asking.

Though Pokhara is awesome, it is also a little boring. So I decided to break up the day by going paragliding. Since I only had flip-flops I had to buy trekking boots, or so they told me. I went and paid 1800 rupes for a pair of ugly boots- originally priced 2500. The shopkeeper told me not to tell his boss. (I'm really glad he told me, because, honestly I was on my way to rat the kid out.) He was suspicious acting, but whatever.

The bus for gliding picked me up at 1:00. There were 3 Spanish people already waiting. Long story short, we head up to the top of some real high hill thing and Babu (which means little baby) starts strapping me into my gliding gear. Next thing I know, I'm running off a peak and into the air. The initial take off was incredible. Absolutely fucking stellar. And about 15 minutes later as we swirled round and round I wanted to get the fuck down. My stomach also happened to be twirling. My palms were sweating. My head was ready to fall off. And I just wanted to get the fuck down. I imagined 4 or 5 times my imminent demise as I fell out of all the straps and into the trees, never to be heard from again. Babu yelling for me but then not really telling anyone about the incident for fear of getting fired.

This is how Babu told his AWESOME (and by awesome I mean rowdy really attractive but super stinky) paragliding chums about our shortened glide:

"She say to me, Babu, how long we stay up? And I saaaays [long A] maybe 15 more minute. She saays ok. But then she saaays, maybe we go down now." ERUPTS in laughter. Babu was adorable, so I didn't mind being the butt of his jokes.

On the car ride home I am holding back vomit. They are all laughing and having a wicked time. I assume nothing. Next thing I know the stinkiest of them all who is sitting next to me says: they were fighting over you! And I am gloating. I am thinking, DAYUM! I thought I looked gross today, turns out I'm fucking gorgeous. Then the story takes a turn for the worse through some broken English when they suggest they were fighting because of my size-- when its windy it is better to have heavy people. I can't decide if they are insinuating Babu made a mistake by choosing me because I'm small-- or if he lucked out because I am denser than I appear. Ego popped; back to concentrating on not barfing.

The afternoon ends like this: I try to return the boots. The shop boy whisper screams: "MY BOSS IS HERE! Come back in 2 hours." Later on, he is next to me on the streets of Pokhara suggesting I go meet his friend to get only 500 rupes back. I am like eeeeeeeeh??? He convinces me, and I go. Then I see the friend who suggests we go boating. SHA RIGHT. I say, "I'll wait here for the money." They are puzzled. I imagine them thinking: "We almost robbed, raped and killed her, shucks! Better luck next time." The boy comes back with the 500 rupes. I say: "thanks, it's not your fault." I manage not to become the next Natale Holloway.

Oh, the views were cool.