Okay gang, I write to you from an empty school computer lab on this cloudy Wednesday morning. Things are pretty tense here these days, and despite my worry and general discouragement over all of it, I'll save the heavy blog for now. Let's wait and see how things pan out. For now there is practically no diesel in Kathmandu (needs 600 kL per day, is now getting around 60), and very little electricity. Supplies are short, school buses can't run, people are angry, and all of this before the April elections that we assumed would stir up all the trouble. The prognosis, in my humble opinion, is bleak at best, and for now we're just waiting and hoping for some peace, wherever possible.
In the meantime, I thought I'd tell a very quick anecdote that highlights the situation, as it affects us most directly these days. Last week, Chris and I unwisely ignored D's advice to take the school bus into town for our meeting with the town kids. Of course by the time we hauled ourselves outside around 4:30, there were no vehicles... only a few dozen frustrated Nepalis waiting around in the bus park. Naturally we sat down for a cup of tea. While sipping our hot deliciousness, some of the loitering Nepalis starting running down the road (Nepalis don't run). We assumed a bus was coming, and just as we were thinking, "Wow, things really have gotten bad," we heard murmerings of an accident. Sure enough, a daredevil on a motorcycle had struck, brace yourself, a cow.
Both cow and human were saved and so we went back to our tea. About 10 minutes later, a bus did come, and again the Nepalis took off running. But we were faster. We threw 10 rupees at our favorite Chhiya gal and went flying behind the other shops, jumped over a few crates of eggs, and landed safely right at the front door of the van, where we jumped into the front seat, squeezing four where two should go... all to the Nepali remix of "Just Chill" that was blasting from the radio. It was like a music video for the transportation problems of Nepal. Just when we thought our adventure was over, about halfway to town, one of the front tires blew. While we waited for them to change it in the middle of the road, I graded papers and Chris read his book outloud. As usual these days, we were dropped off about 2 km from our destination and had to walk it.
There's a saying in Nepali that translates... "There's always time for tea, and there's always room for one more." Even though everything else in this country seems to be changing, that's still true as ever. Keep us and the people of Nepal in your thoughts. Until next time....
Love Sar
