this time last year, i was in nepal. i was in kathmandu sweating myself silly and loving to hate it and writing blogs about waiters and servants and deaths and dirty roads and cows and maoists. the link is something i've shared with you before, but that was a year ago. some of you are new and some of you forgot. but that piece of writing there was done for the school travel blog. my roommate, the jphine one, just read me an excerpt from this year's blog. i will recreate it.
this is dramatized for the love of making fun of others.
As I sit here in one of the poorest countries in the world I can't help but imagine myself sweeping it free of all of its misery. It reminds me of myself in many ways as many fucked-up, awful things do. It reminds me of the fragility of life and the sorrows of some people. Some people don't have shoes!
I love this country for being itself. Amidst the turmoil there is a beauty that glows like a tiny flickering candle in a pile of dirty, ashen rubble. Or, like a nightlight in a child's magical playroom. Or, like if you light a fart on fire.
Kathmandu is me. I am Kathmandu.
I am me--me am city--city am beautiful. Life and sorrow are intertwined into a beautiful rainbow of pennies and leprechauns! The Maoists are really sexy and I love their red outfits. Also, glue kids are sadder than melted chocolate that can't be eaten because it's too melted. But Kathmandu knows no melted, it would eat it anyway because it's so hungry for chocolates.
At once I am alive and dead from empathetic thoughts that disallow myself to think about my new iPad. But more, I am alive and thankful; I am ready and willing. We. Me and Kathmandu. We are ready.
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