Oct
30th, 2009 - Recently, I have spent more time trying to plan
activities than actually engaging in them. It has a tendency to make
one bonkers. I suppose this is unavoidable since it is difficult to
know where I will end up and when, so administrative time is a
necessary evil. Still, walking around the streets of Thamel in
Kathmandu for three days straight will dampen the spirits of even the
most enthusiastic globetrotters.
It’s
sad when street hawkers start recognizing you and when you enter so
many trekking gear shops you actually start suggesting price
strategies to some of the more extortionist vendors. Then there is
the traffic. Incorrigible young males relish the idea of tearing ass
down narrow alleys and stopping only if absolutely essential
(i.e. a large inanimate objects obstruct their path). It irks me. At
the risk of sounding homicidal I’ve fantasized about purchasing a
trekking pole and using it to clothesline folks I deem dangerous to
society right off their motorcycles. Is that wrong? For vehicles with
four wheels I have a different strategy: Fill balloons with chicken
shit and decorate the windshields of those putting all of our lives
in danger. Is that wrong?
Many
of the tourists make me giggle. They are an eclectic bunch. If I were
to combine the various personas into one sort of Franken-tourist it
would be wearing one brand new Gortex boot (left foot), one river
sandal (right foot), knock-off Coolmax socks, zip-off leg windproof
pajama-like capri pants with a pair of nylon North Face shorts pulled
over them, a kick ass fanny pack with a secret zipper, polypro shirt,
hurricane-proof jacket, a yak wool mini-purse around the shoulder, a
funky multi-colored ‘look at me I’m in Nepal’ hat, and a super
sleek space age backpack with enough room for a small yeti. This
mutant would have a tattoo of a Garuda
or some other mythical beast of arcane significance, probably
sport dreadlocks, and I’m sure have one or more body parts pierced.
Of course, they would have a camera worth more than my life with an
attached lens possessing enough magnification to see the moons of
Saturn. They would also have absolutely no idea how to use it.
