Goodbye, part 1

It is about ten to nine, Saturday evening, June 29th. I am pretty much all packed, only the clothes I am wearing and my sheet and pillow need to be put into my suitcase; everything else goes into my backpack. The other volunteers are still in town, but I bid them adieu early and returned to the school for one more supper of Dal Bhat and curried vegetables. I am stuffed, tired, and nearly in tears. I never thought it would be this hard to say goodbye to my little monklets.

Yesterday was the last full day of classes, and I spent it doing something fun with each class. This morning I also 'wasted', laughing and playing with each class; only in the morning, Saturdays are half days. At lunch, Rachel, Ellie and I planned a trip into Lakeside. We considered going all the way into Pokhara to the fruit market, buying a huge amount of different varieties and making a fruit salad to share with the boys; in reality we ended up eating apple crumble and brownie sundaes and surfing the internet, then shopping up and down the main Lakeside strip. Simon and Naz found Rachel and I while Ellie worked on some school information at a cyber cafe; we ended up at the shisha bar eating mozza sticks, (I haven't had cheese since leaving Canada and OH MY COD they were amazing), and smoking some strawberry flavoured shisha tobacco. just shisha, nothing more... illegal... shall we say.

That's me smoking the hookah at a nifty cafe!

It was getting close to 6 PM and I still wanted to pick up some candies and a couple souvenirs, so I paid my portion of the bill and said goodbye to the trio. I would have loved to stay and chat and have a great, fun time, but I really wanted to see my monklets one more evening before I had to leave.

So I strolled down the road, bought two beautiful scarves (4 dollars for one, 5 for the other, seriously, I bargained them down from 6 each, which still would have been a steal at home), then found a cab and arranged a ride back to the school.

I got back at 630, took my things upstairs and grabbed a bag of candy from my purchases. I took it back down to the courtyard to share with the monklets, who were so very happy to get some fruit flavoured chews. Each one thanked me, they are always so grateful for everything. I just love seeing how happy the little ones are, they laugh and smile and act like each small candy is a huge gift. I also played some UNO with two of the smallest boys, who I just love. A quick run across the street with another little kindergarten boy to buy candies at the 'store' (really what we would call a garage on someone's house, filled with shelves that house candy, chips and toiletries). I took the opportunity to buy more bags of OM- just some of the best puffed wheat chips I have ever tasted. Spicy and light and I don't know what I'll do when I come home because they are even hard to find here, in the city they are manufactured in!

Then came supper, one last meal of Dal Bhat, curried vegetables (tonight was one dish of curried squash and another dish with a different type of curried long beans and carrots). I stuffed myself, adding a small quarter spoonful of some of the hottest fresh green chili paste I have ever tasted. I am proud of my growing ability to eat hotter and hotter things; back home before I was a complete wimp! Now every meal I want more and more chili, be it in paste or powder form, to mix in with the non-spicy Dal (thick lentil soup).

After supper I knew I had to get my room clean and my things packed up; it was so much harder than I thought it would be! I have given away all the books, pencil crayons, and other fun things I brought to the monklets, and yet I still could barely fit everything in my suitcase. It also feels heavier than before! The lack of space may have to do with the extra bags of OM I am taking with me, but the weight should be lighter; I have no idea what I did to make it so heavy. Oh well, I got it closed.

As I was cleaning and packing, though, many of the monklets and the one nun here brought me letter after letter full of drawings, thanking me for the fun classes and the candies/markers/drawing paper, and wishing me happiness. All of my doubts about reaching the boys (and girl) faded away and my heart swelled with gratefulness. I am so thankful for this experience, for all I have learned, and for the dear little boys (and girl) who are now so dear to me.

The monklets all piled into the dining room to watch a video, and I wrote up some thank you's for the two Lamas. I brought two wooden, hand carved inukshuk statuettes, and so I wrote a small card explaining them and have one to each Lama Trinley and Lama Lekshey. I made four little business type cards with my email and facebook accounts, and attached Canada flag pins for the volunteers so that we could keep in touch. I also took the Canada flag hearts and attached more pins for the other teachers who work here, as well as the kitchen staff. I have two Canada tshirts, one I am giving to the head cook (he and I sat and discussed all the old Clint Eastwood western movies one afternoon) and one for Sonam, the teacher who accompanied me to the hospital the first time and helped me navigate the foreign world of Nepal medical care. I will give these in the morning before I leave.

At least, I will leave them to be given, as I have to be up and ready to go for 630AM; catching an early bus to KTM is the plan. I have downloaded a new book (Bossypants by Tina Fey) to read on the 6+ hour bus ride, I have my hostels booked for the first week, and just want to get on with it.

Sort of.

I also don't want to leave my little piece of paradise. If I hadn't committed to the Koseli school, I would be very tempted to skip KTM altogether and just stay here in Pokhara until I was leaving for home. Stay and teach my little monklets, helping the younger boys speak and understand English better, teaching the older boys the systems of the body and how our organs work together to make our bodies go! But I did make a commitment, and I do want to see the great temples, market places and the Nepal national zoo that make Kathmandu so appealing. Of course, KTM is also very dirty and noisy and so full of people; but hey, its three weeks. I can handle it.

I just didn't expect the tears that started to fall when I stood outside on the second floor walkway, looking down at the courtyard where some of the monklets played while the others continued to watch their video. I didn't expect to feel so keenly how much I will miss the peacefulness and the beauty that my little home here at Pal Ewam exudes. I didn't think I would love these monklets as much as I do.

They made me promise to come back. I told them it would be two years, but they expect me back in 2015. How could I say no? And as one of them told me, you cannot lie to a monk. I laughed, and told him I would come back and teach him new things, and bring comic books and games with me.

He was appeased, but now I am committed. I mean, he's right, isn't he? You cannot lie to monks. And you know you cannot lie to monklets either.

I better go to bed, the morning comes so early.

Namaste.

What a difference a week can make.

Well, last I posted, I was discouraged and worn out from teaching the monklets and them not paying attention. Boy have things changed!

Friday I planned a sort of art game. I divided each blank piece of paper into 6 areas, and then came up with 6 instructions for them to draw.

1. Draw a picture of your family
2. Draw a picture of your favourite food
3. Draw a picture of an animal that starts with the letter D, and one that starts with M.
4. Draw a picture of your favourite sport
5. Draw a picture of you and your best friend/s
6. Draw a picture of your favourite movie/cartoon

It went really well. Not only did I get to see the differences in each boy, I also had them practice understanding english instructions and have fun! To make it fair, I also did the exercise and they LOVED my drawings. (I chose mouse and deer for my animals!)

Saturday is only a half day, making life so much easier. Also on Saturday, other volunteers arrived! And small world, one of the girls had volunteered two years previous when Simon's brother was here!

All three are from England, the two girls are best friends and the guy is a new friend of theirs. Rachel and Ellie (Ellie had been here previously) are university students on a break, travelling together. Both are smart, funny, and really pretty. And nice! I am always slightly nervous when meeting new people, but we seem to get along quite well.

The guy's name is Naz, and he is of Pakistan heritage. I only mention it because he is constantly thought to be a local, he looks very Nepali. He is funny and smart as well, a handsome (but young) man.

It is wonderful to have other english speakers to talk to, even though we sometimes have to explain our slang to each other.

On Saturday, after they arrived, we played with the kids. Sunday morning was more play time, spent braiding bracelets and necklaces out of embroidery floss and letting the monklets take pictures with my spare camera. (Don't worry, Mom, your camera is safe!) There are some fantastic pictures from their perspective, check them out on my facebook. After lunch we walked into Lakeside together, and I bid them adieu. They were going boating and swimming and I completely spaced and didn't bring a suit. Plus, it was so hot and sunny I didn't want to sit in a boat for 2 hours. I went shopping instead, finding some new markers and toys for the boys, as well as some snacks to get me through the next week.

Sunday evening we played cards, and planned what to do for Monday's teaching. Sunday evening was also another big event: the older monklets arrived from Mustang! These boys range from 12-17, and boy, I was intimidated when I thought about teaching them. Monday there were only classes for the younger monklets, as the older ones were still tired from their incredible journey.

Having extra volunteers was wonderful, as the girls taught Monday morning and I took over and taught Monday afternoon. Having only 3 classes to teach is much easier than 6; and only dealing with the 2nd years one class instead of 2 was wonderful.

Monday evening was more cards with the other volunteers, and speculation about what the new schedule would be. We didn't know what we would be teaching until about 30 minutes before classes began Tuesday morning!

Yet Tuesday was when the teaching tide turned. I started with the 1st years and had four classes in the morning, 1 then 2 then 3 then 4. After lunch I had the older boys, 6 then 5 then 7 then another class with 6. No more kindergarten class, which I was surprisingly OK with. I read to the 1-4 classes from a book about the human body, then taught the 5-7 years about the inner workings of a mammal cell. They are so smart and so respectful! The older boys paid attention as I drew a cell on the board, labelled the organelles and explained their purpose. I explained that although almost all the mammalian cells are generally similar in shape and 'contents', red blood cells do not have a nucleus so are flatter than others. One of the 6th years asked 'are there white blood cells?' and so I got to explain the difference. Smart boys!

I felt so good by the end of the day, like I hadn't wasted time but had instead really taught something and had students who listened and learned. It was wonderful, such a different feeling than my previous teaching experiences.

Wednesday I drew pictures of the human body and its parts with the students, because they had paid such good attention on Wednesday. Thursday was my horseback tour, so I didn't teach, but today, (Friday) was my last day of classes before I travel to Kathmandu. I had prepared some cute little heart shaped Canada flags, and wrote thank you's to all the monklets on the back. I handed them out with markers, stickers, candies and whatnot to the boys in each class. I apologized to the older boys that we only had 1 day of actual teaching, and watched an episode of Venture Bros with them (Dia De Los Dangereaux, not racy or offensive). They were pretty happy, and so was I.

Now I am relaxing, sore from my day of horseback riding (will update about that in a separate post), and still worn out from the past few day's activities. I am just waiting to find out when I am catching a bus on Sunday, as my Pokhara adventure comes to a close.

But so much awaits me in the bustling capital city of Kathmandu. My first week is somewhat relaxed, with me trying to visit as many temples and tourist sites as possible. Included in my plans is a visit to the zoo, which is apparently quite a treat! My second week is assisting at the Koseli school, the place that inspired this whole trip, then my third and final week is sent learning yoga, tai chi and meditation as well as attending lectures at my hotel (the Hotel Himalaya Yoga) as well as visiting anything I missed.

It will be a completely different experience than my stay here at Pal Ewam school; making my own schedule, finding my own meals, not seeing the same faces day after day. I am excited, but also nervous. I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone, however, one of the big reasons I chose a trip like this.

Also, you may notice I only accounted for 3 weeks. Well, plans have changed, and I'll be flying home July 21st instead of August 1. It means I arrive home July 22nd, not August 3rd like originally planned. I am not saddened by this. I still get to experience everything I wanted to before, but without spending an extra 2 weeks spending money I just don't really have. I don't miss out on anything, and I miss home a lot. I can't wait to see my big fat kitty! He doesn't even miss me, it seems, but I sure miss him.

So things are looking bright, friends. I will miss my little monklets, but I have promised I will come back in 2 years and visit them again.

And you can't break a promise to monklets.

Namaste

They make me want to cry sometimes.

The boys do. Not all of them. I wrote before about how one class was just harder to deal with than the other ones. And it is always that way. I thought I had them beat, today, I didn't bring any fun things to the morning class, even though the other classes were allowed to use the extra paper and pencil crayons. I made them go over grammar rules. "Miss, miss, we know this," they would cry out, so I told them it should be very easy and go very quickly then. It didn't. I reviewed nouns and pronouns, then the difference between proper and common nouns. They sat, watching blankly, not caring. Not interested, not answering.

I moved on to some of the rules to turn nouns plural. They told me they knew it too, so I put words on the board and asked them how to make them plural. Only one boy paid attention, the others pulling bags out and sketching in their notebooks and generally ignoring me.

Thank cod when class ended. I moved on and had better experiences in the other classes. After lunch, they are the last class I teach (try to teach) each day. The first day I was here, the head Llama told me I could skip classes each day if I wanted. I didn't think I would, but now, I am holding on to that allowance for this coming week. Just in case. Today I didn't skip, though, I entered the class and handed out small pieces of paper and told them to draw, read, whatever, as long as they were quiet. The one boy who really seems to care wanted help with his reading and I was glad to give it.

We sat in the front of the room and he read to me while I helped him sound out the difficult words, and the rest of the students in class 2 joked and drew and basically ignored me. For a while. When we were done two stories, one of the 'head' troublemakers, if you would call them troublemakers, came up with a different book and asked if he could have a turn. I said yes, and he read with less trouble than the other boy, but still needing some help and obviously craving some attention. I congratulated on how well he read, and another boy asked to read. He needed lots of help, but I am happy to do it; I love to read and have loved it my whole life. If I can help someone else learn to love reading English, I will. It is why I thought I would be good at teaching the boys.

After the third boy, the first wanted to read again, and the rest of the room was drawing and laughing to themselves. One of the monklets wanted pages from the kindergarten workbook I had in my bag. I told him no, it was too simple for him and for the youngest boys' class. He frowned, but continued turning pages. I said he could draw the page, if he wanted, but then he asked for a different page from the same book. I explained no, and why, but he continued to do it again and again with different pages.

When I finally said no, no pages, and put the book away, he sat at his desk with his friend. While I assisted with reading, they got in a small argument that I didn't notice. Then one was crying and the other was laughing in a very mean way. I asked the boy I was helping read to wait and investigated the situation.

No one would tell me what happened, no one would explain, so after quickly glancing at my watch I announced no more drawing/colouring and that everyone had to hand me the crayons. I was so exhausted with dealing with the constant chatter in a different language that I (without yelling or being really mean) told them they wouldn't get to draw or colour tomorrow if they did not behave. If they did not listen in class tomorrow morning, I would not have paper or pencils for them to use.

Then, the bell (which is actually a gong) was rung for class to end. I packed up the rest of my things and started to leave, when the first boy, the one who is always interested and well behaved and good, came up to me smiling. "Thank you Miss," he said, gesturing to the book I was helping him read.

It made me feel a little better.

Still, I hurried with my water and bag upstairs to my room. I grabbed my computer from the desk it was charging on and turned on the fan, watching the rest of a new episode of The Venture Bros I was able to download last night (successful torrent, woot!)

I hate feeling like I am hiding away and not socializing, but sometimes I just can't deal with the feelings of futility that come after I teach. Attempt to teach. Waste time in the classroom. Sigh

Oh well.

Tomorrow I am going to tr and teach about computers. Parts of a computer, powering on and off, what QWERTY means, as well as the Internet. Just theory, as the only computer I have to show will be my sad little net book (sad because I am so bad to it and it deserves so much more love and respect than I give it). Then comes Saturday, which I think I may skip altogether (it is a half day and I may make some excuse about walking into Lakeside to set up my adventure for Sunday). I don't know what my adventure for Sunday will be, and knowing my goals here I probably won't ski Saturday anyway.

But having the option makes dealing much, much easier.

Again, if anything, this has made me appreciate my teacher friends all the more. When I was a student, I LOVED to learn. I loved school and being good and doing whatever the teacher asked. However, I have now realized that many students are not like I was. They don't care, or have other interests, or whatever but it makes life for teachers very difficult. You guys rock, teachers, you really do.

And, like usual, I am surviving.

Namaste, friends.

Laura

Do androids dream of homemade fuel cells?

So a funny thing happens when you are away from home in a completely foreign place for a long period of time. You start to dream of home cooking. At least, I start to dream of home cooking.
I get great food here, other than  the one bad restaurant that tried to assassinate me. Even Dal Bhat, plain old lentil soup with rice, is amazingly delicious. I have also had some of the best curries, no, actually THE best curries of my life. The chocolate ice cream I had one afternoon in Lakeside was maybe the most enjoyable chocolate ice cream I have ever had.

Yet the thought of food from Canada, both fast and made by hand, haunts me. Sometimes I am sleeping and having the  most peculiar dreams, and a main part will be a meal with friends. Or I will be reading from a book and the descriptions of edibles will have my mouth watering. So I thought you might enjoy the list that is growing in the back of my mind. Don't judge, we all have our guilty pleasures. Mine just happens to be fast food.

Sirloin Uncle burger and Onion Rings from A&W with mayo and icy cold Coca-Cola in a glass mug. I am pretty sure this will happen on the way home from the airport. Be warned, Mom!

Sapparo Ichiban ramen noodles-the ramen here are nothing to my childhood fave.

Pad Thai with chicken and extra tofu, extra extra tofu, from the Lemongrass restaurant on the boardwalk. I won't have to ask for no spice any more. The mild spice of the regular pad thai will be heaven!

Fish and Shrimps from Comeau's on the highway from St Stephen to Saint John. With lots of homemade tartar sauce.

A McDouble with Mac Sauce, fries and hot mustard mcnugget sauce from Mcdonalds. This is probably my second most shameful craving.

So much cheese. Cheddar, Mozza, Gouda, Aged Cheddar, Monteray Jack, Havarti, that yummy Boursin cheese with Pepper, Goat cheese with herbs. (I hope they have Boursin on the plane again!)

Along with the cheese, sausage. Salami, Polish Coil, Pepperoni, with crackers and grapes

STEAK. A tenderloin steak that I have grilled to perfection, served with my to die for sztaziki potato salad and fried onions. (Oh I want this now, NOW!)

Chef Boyardee. Seriously, why would I crave Chef Boyardee? Why wouldn't I want fresh made ravioli from one of the new italian places in SJ? But, no, I want the good ol' red can of chef boyardee. This would be my most embarrassing craving, I admit.

SUSHI. Sushi Sushi SUSHI! I big time want unlimited spicy crab hand rolls from Sense of Tokyo, but also want to try out a new place opening up owned by Enchan, who used to make magic at SoT before he moved on.

Bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. Bacon sandwiches, on toast with tomato, cheese and mayo, Bacon on Cesar salad, Bacon with soft boiled eggs and toast strips, and just strips of nice, crispy bacon.

Pancakes with NB Blueberries, sausages and maple syrup. I can't wait for this. I keep thinking about this, over and over. And most of all, I want to have this at about 2AM. Not for actual breakfast, but after drinking at the bar for a while, or some similar shenanigens. With runny fried eggs too. I love having breakfast for not breakfast.

And sandwiches. I want hot turkey, hot hamburg, pastrami, smoked meat on rye with pickles (OH MY GOD I WANT DILL PICKLES SO MUCH RIGHT NOW), turkey club, chicken breast with bacon and cheese on a kaiser from Jeremiah's in the SJ City Market, the insane sandwiches i make at home with things like avocado and smoked salmon (oh god I even want smoked salmon? What is wrong with me?) and alfalfa sprouts and more. I just can't stop thinking of sandwiches.

This must mean I am better, no longer sick and dreading the thought of eating or drinking. Even though there are many restaurants in Kathmandu that serve all manner of world cuisine, none of the cravings will be satisfied until I am actually on Canadian soil. I think the location is part of the nostalgic yearning in my mind.

Do you dream of food when you are away from the comforts and familiarities of home?

Am I teaching or wasting time?

It is now Tuesday evening, and I am well on the mend. Actually, this time, unlike last week when I thought I was getting better and then suddenly started vomiting again, forcing myself to a new doctor, multiple times, including an ultrasound. Everything checked out, I was diagnosed with a case of food poisoning leading to acute gastritis, followed by dehydration. Medicines and rest and liquids and food have begun to take effect and today, Tuesday morning, I was actually able to teach.

Sort of.

The weather here is crazy, always raining or close to raining or sunny with the heaviness of rain to come. I knew this would happen, as my summer break from school happens right during monsoon season here in Nepal. Why? Well, (I learned this to teach the class today) hot, moisture heavy air from the Bay of Bengal moves up over the humid country of India, and when it hits the cooler air of the Himylayas BOOM, rain and wind and monsoon.
Anyway, today in class we learned all about weather. For the second level students, I talked about atmosphere, the earth, and what causes thunder, lightening, tornados and hurricanes. They didn't care. It is maddening. I don't know what else to do. Should I keep trying to find interesting things to teach them, with pictures from the books I brought, or just give up and start with nouns, then verbs, then sentence structure and SNORE...

Luckily the first leve students are always more respectful. They watch when I talk and tell stories with eyes filled with interest. We talked about weather too, but I left out the atmosphere stuff. I thought it might be just a little too much.

Then came break, and boy, I was already feeling the strain. SO very tired. But after the monklets played for half an hour, came class with the kindergarten level. We read and looked at pictures about weather, then I wrote words for them to practice in the notebooks. It was the most successful K level I have taught yet.

But, it still doesnt feel like I am doing anything but wasting time with them. I LOVE to play with them, and when they run to me and throw their hands up yelling "Miss, Miss", giving me drawings or small items they found while playing. They are so much fun, but teaching? I am not cut out to teach children.

Which I know comes as a surprise to some of my friends. At work, I host the birthday parties with ease. I love doing it, helping to teach how to make a craft. Yet that is the difference, I think, it is a fun occasion, not serious.

Teaching adults is different. I enjoy my time working on english with the older monk. Helping him conjugate verbs and understand the small rules that make grammar so difficult for english learners. Yet adults wouldn't be there unless they wanted to learn, so they are invested in it. They don't need constant haranguing to sit down and pay attention.

Even teenagers are different. Teaching teens you can talk to them somewhat like adults, and the things I am used to teaching, or at least education about, is sexual education. Healthy sexual attitudes, safety, etc. It is something that grabs their attention and you can have a lot of fun making jokes about.

And so I feel so discouraged. So lost. I only have 3 days left this week, five days next week and two saturdays which are half days here at Pal Ewam. 9 total. Then I am off to Kathmandu for brand new adventures.

The school there I won't be teaching alone, but assisting the teachers during classes and then entertaining kids after school, exactly the kind of thing I am good at. Songs, games, crafts, that type of thing. Plus, I get to help the older teen girls learn about puberty and sex, so I am both nervous but excited about that opportunity.

As long as I can get through the next week and a half. Nine teaching days.

Do all my teacher friends feel like this? I have always respected my friends who are able to get up every day and work at educating our nation's children. I always knew it was hard, I used to prepare lessons for Sunday school and for church camp and whatnot. But this, this is more than I ever expected.

You have my undying devotion, teachers. You deserve the biggest salaries and best benefits.

Meanwhile, I am surviving.

Namaste

Ready to give up, but not going to

So it has been quite the rough week for your good friend Laura.

Sunday was a full day off with no classes, so I walked into Lakeside with the other volunteer. The walk was wonderful, the landscape beautiful. In Lakeside, we had a couple drinks and then parted ways, we each had something different to accomplish.

My mission was to find paper, crayons and other fun things to help in my classes. Now Lakeside is quite touristy, and so I ventured down some side roads looking for stores that sold more than the postcards/hippie clothes/trekking gear. I scoured mutiple "S-Marts", fixed price stores that sold mostly dry goods and drinks. It took multiple purchases but I found some of what I was looking for.

Then it was time to find food. I loved the fish and momo's I had last time I was in Lakeside, so I tried out a new restaurant (which of course offered free wifi) and ordered grilled fish and chicken momo. It was quite tasty, I remember thinking at the time. Only I can't think of the meal now without getting queasy.

After the meal I grabbed some soda's and treats to take back to the school and hailed a taxi. I didn't want to walk back with my now filled backpack and full stomach. It was a good thing too, because as soon as I was back at the school I was in my room with indigestion. I thought maybe a drink would help, and one of the cans of Sprite was still quite cold. I started drinking it only to be forced to rush to the bathroom; everything started to come up.

And it continued from there.

I skipped supper that night, unable to even keep water down. I foolishly tried drinking more soda, hoping the sugary-saltiness might be better for my weak stomach than the plain water. It didn't help. Everything still came up.

Monday morning I went downstairs to talk to the monks and other teachers, explaining how I hadn't slept the night before, (and I hadn't, not one wink, I was in agony), and that I wanted to rest. They were completely understanding, and so upstairs to my room I went. At lunch I had some tea, and then back to sleep. My stomach wasn't hurting so much, although my chest was feeling intense pain. I think the vomiting burned my diaphragm and esophagus.

That night at supper I had some bread and dal (lentil soup), and felt much better. I went to sleep with no real trouble, I remember as I fell asleep that I thought "thank goodness, I am on the mend". Yet when I woke up the next morning, Tuesday, it was back.

My stomach was like lead, and in the early morning I began puking once more. My body was weak and I was ready to die. It hurt so very much. I got dressed and walked down to see the teachers, explaining that I had been getting better but got worse again. So they all agreed I should rest some more. I had a cup of tea, then back to bed.

At least sleeping in the daytime wasn't so hard. At lunch, one of the monklets came to check on me, asking "lunch miss?" I thanked him but said no. I got some fresh water and went back to bed. I didn't even have the energy to watch shows on my computer or listen to music. All I wanted was the release of pain that came with slumber.

By supper, I was feeling better again. I took some more tea, and ate some crackers I had brought from home (sadly, all gone now). I also had some oreo's I had picked up in Lakeside, and sat down with the monks and teachers as the children played. The little Russian boy's mother was visiting for supper, and had brought fresh mangoes. She offered me a piece, which I took happily. The sweet, sugary deliciousness made my evening, and I felt somewhat restored. She offered me some more, but I didn't want to push it. Again, I went to bed early, feeling much better than before.

Again, I woke up only to be gripped with intense pain and the urgent need to vomit.

I vomited what little was left in me, unable to swallow even water, and got dressed. I made my way downstairs, crying, to find someone to help. One of the teachers offered to take me to the hospital, but all I could think of was my bed. I told him if I was sick at lunch, I would go. He told me he would help me.

I went back to my room, only to be approached by the monks who told me they thought I should go to the hospital. One helped me pack a bag and they called for a taxi to come, and so I waited downstairs, in pain, for my transport.

When it finally arrived, I climbed in with my teacher friend, who would act as interpreter and protector. The drive took longer than I thought I could handle, through the quiet countryside, into Lakeside then into Pokhara proper. Traffic, potholes, cows, people everywhere. It was overwhelming. Finally we stopped in front of a smallish white building, and I recognized the ER beside the Nepali writing.

I went inside, and that was when I first encountered the amazing and yet basic system that is medical care here.

At the front is a counter, with doctors behind it. The first people you speak to are doctors. I tried to explain what was wrong, and he checked some things off on a sheet, sending me downstairs to the lab.

At the lab, they drew blood (needles were fresh out of sterile packages every time), or at least they tried. My veins are notoriously hard to find on a good day, and I was severely dehydrated. But after 3 different people tried, they got a smaller gauge needle and was able to find a vein in my hand. Then the blood went for processing. And I paid for the tests.

About 1800 rupees, or 20 or so bucks. You pay up front, and within 20 minutes you have your results. I had a slighty elevated white blood count, but I didn't know how to explain to them that it could actually be normal for me, as I have struggled with autoimmune disorders before. They sent me back upstairs to see the doctor again.
\
The doctor read the results, wrote up a prescription, and sent my friend to buy the supplies. About another 10 bucks. He came back and gave the doctor the bag, which contained two bags of fluids, and some medications I would need. They hooked up an IV to my hand, then let nature take its course.

The fluids made all the difference. By the end of the second bag, I was still fatigued, but able to sit up without feeling like I was going to pass out. The doctor wanted me to drink some tea, then if that stayed down, eat some soup. I complied, my companion off to find the drink and food. I drank the tea, it didn't hurt so the soup came next. It was a bland mix of carrot shreds, green onion and cabbage. I drank most of the broth, avoiding the cabbage as much as possible (I have never been able to digest cabbage). It stayed down, so we thanked the doctor and set off.

On the way back to the school, we stopped at another S-Mart and I bought packets of soup, some digestive cookies, a bottle of orange fanta and a carton of apple juice. Then came the long, bumpy taxi ride to the school. When I arrived, I stumbled upstairs to my room, only taking the energy to make my bed, then shower, and fall fast asleep.

I woke up a few hours later, feeling weak but better. I went through the bag of supplies, reading my diagnoses and the schedule for the pills I was supposed to take over the next 7 days (my companion had written it out in perfect english for me), then made my way with the soup packet downstairs to give to the cook.

He was happy I was well, everyone was so happy to see me. I thanked them, then apologized and excused myself to lie down again. Even moving up and down the stairs took so much effort, was so draining. At 630 that night I took my first pill, at 7 I had my first bowl of soup. Then I was straight to bed.

I almost vomited that night, but managed to keep everything down. I took my nighttime pill, went to sleep and woke up this morning feeling much better. Today I started the day with tea and digestive cookies, hoping it would settle well. I had a few gulps of icy cold orange Fanta (it was in the freezer overnight) and napped much of the morning. I had soup at lunch, and will again for supper tonight. Then tomorrow, a holiday here at the school, I hope to be back on a regular meal plan like everyone else.

While laying in the hospital, all I wanted was to give up. I wanted it all to be over, for me to be home, with my mother taking care of me. I thought of how horrible the trip home would be if I was sick, but didn't care. I was ready to call my brother and ask him to change my ticket, plead and beg if he had to, explain how sick I was and get me home. I was in agony, and missed everything familiar. Even now I still have a nagging feeling inside, that I want to be home, surrounded by comfort and ease. Yet I am not giving up. I know that if I did, I would regret it. I am here not just to help, but to discover my own strength and worth. And giving up is not something I would every find worthy in myself.

I am better, just trying not to overwhelm my healing digestive system with heaviness or bulk. Lght meals, medications 3 times a day, and bed rest.

Funny enough, when I heard tomorrow is a holiday, I laughed that as soon as I got better they take a holiday. The monks found that funny as well.

And our health care system could learn a thing or two from this one. I was in and out in 4 hours. A trip for this to the ER at home could find you waiting to see a doctor for hours, let alone receive treatment. Why, with all our advancements and staff, do things take so bloody long? I am happy, however, to be done with it. I hate feeling like a week was wasted, but perhaps I was meant to learn from this. Learn that I can't always be in control, that sometimes you need to take help where it comes, and allow nature to take its course.

Or maybe I just was meant to learn not to eat momos.

Whatever, I have survived, and will continue on.

Namaste, friends,

Laura

Not a Monastery, but a Monastic School

So due to the fact that I am female, I am not permitted to stay at the monastery itself. So instead, I am teaching monklets at the Pal Ewam Monastic school, which is affiliated with the Namgyl Monastery.

On Monday morning, I dragged my heavy luggage (what was I thinking?) down the hostel steps to wait find Krishna and our taxi driver waiting. We loaded my things in and set off for the school. Now keep in mind that at this point, I really had no idea where I was going; I had just told Krishna I was interested in teaching Monks and he said "OK", I left everything else in his hands.

The road, again, was winding and narrow and part dirt, part rock, part road. It was about a 15 minute drive from Lakeside, past some very basic structures used as homes and little stores.

That is one thing I noticed here. Almost every two or three buildings is a small shack selling chips, pop, water, and other roadside necessities. How everyone stays in business puzzled me at first, then I realized it was nothing like at home. They didn't pay rent, they just set up shop on their own property. They sold non perishable items, so their stock never went off and they could sell it pretty much forever. Life is so different!

We pulled up to a walled in 'complex', i guess you could call it. It was a U shaped building with two floors, a stone wall and a bright blue gate. Once we were admitted, the head monk and the principal of the school came to meet me. Krishna and the taxi driver said their goodbye, saying they would be back on Saturday to visit and take me to Pokhara to enjoy my days off. (The school has Saturday and Sunday off, instead of just the traditional one day Saturday weekend.)

I wasn't allowed to carry my bags upstairs, they were ported up for me by some of the other teachers (all male!). Instead, I was invited to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea.

Tea. I never was a tea drinker. Coffee, yes. Coke, Hell yes! Tea, not so much, unless it is iced tea with lots of sugar, ice and lemon. But when in Rome- or in this case, Sarangkot, do as the monks do. And they drink tea. The morning was already hot and the tea was steaming, but I was surprised at how very good it was. Black tea, it was a little fruity but also had this taste that I can't quite describe- I guess it is tea flavour. I drink green tea with my sushi but now I think at home I will be a black tea drinker as well.

As we sipped our tea, I was given my class schedule. I have 6 classes a day, 40 minutes each. Strangely, the head monk told me I didn't need to show up for all of them. Peculiar, in my opinion, but it is nice to have the option on days I feel less than healthy. Which, sadly, I have been struggling with. But more on that another time. No need to dwell on what you cannot change, and when I get sick I can only deal, not change it.

Classes start at 9AM. I teach level 2, then level 1. After a break for the children, I then teach kindergarten. Then comes lunch and a nap time for the monklets (and I must say myself as well), followed by a class for the 3rd and 4th levels, back to the kindergarten, then a tea break and finally class 2 again.

Along with this, the children have other teachers who instruct them in English, Tibetan, Nepali, Social studies and Science. I have quite a bit of freedom in what I can do with them.

It was only 8AM when I was shown to my room, and was told I would have free time until 9. So I unpacked some things, gathered up everything I brought that had to do with Canada, rested. (I am amazed at how very tired I get here. So quickly too. Must be the altitude or heat. Or both.) Soon the bell rang for 9AM, and as I walked to the first classroom I was met with lines of children in their yellow and red robes, reciting morning prayers with their instructors. Then it was class time.

Like the first day of any new teacher, they were loud and rambunctious and yet, still charming. First the 2nd level listened as I showed them on the blow up globe I brought where I was from, where Nepal was. I then showed them pictures and post cards from home, money from home, and read a story about the Canadian flag. Then all they wanted to do was throw the globe around. Good thing it is sturdy like a beach ball!

The bell rang but I didn't realize that meant move to the next class. One of the teachers came and instructed me where I should be! I then did the same thing with the next class, this time I gave them paper and pencil crayons and had them draw pictures of the Canadian flag and the Nepali flag. All 7 children in level 2 drew me pictures and signed their names.

After break, I did a similar thing with the kindergarten class. They were quiet and focused as I read them a story, and then when it came time to draw, they went nuts! They loved it! We had a great time together until the bell rang.

The bell that signifies lunch.

Oh intimidating bowl of rice and lentils, how will I face you day after day? It isn't that it is bad. Far from it. It is absolutely delicious. And so healthy, unprocessed and non-upsetting to my former persnickety digestive tract. The only problem is THERE IS SO MUCH FOOD. And not finishing is very rude, wasting something that is precious to the people here. I wish I knew how to say 'please, less food', but I just don't know how.

Maybe I can sit with one of the monks and explain I can only eat so much each day without getting sick. have breakfast and supper but skip lunch. I dunno, we'll see. At least after stuffing myself I had extra time to lay down in my room.

Speaking of my room, it is pretty posh. When I signed up I thought I might end up in a homestay with no electricity, no internet and no western toilet. WRONG! I have a comfy bed, a private bathroom with shower and western toilet, electricity and wifi. And one of the teachers even brought me a room fan. Luxury!

I set my alarm to wake me 10 minutes before class was to begin again. After freshening up, the bell rang and it was time for level 3&4. They are combined because there are so few students at that level right now. (Many of the upper levels are up at the monastery receiving instruction, which is why I have double classes each day.) After talking about Canada and letting them draw we went through some 'fun fact' books. After discussing the pictures, I noticed one of the boys had a Mulan book in his pack. I offered to go through it with them, surprised to hear they had seen the movie. Apparently, they do watch some movies here. They even know who Ben 10 is! All my worry about corrupting them with western culture is for naught. Oh well.

Then I was back with the adorable kindergarten class. I had brought a book called "I see the sun in Nepal" which is about a little girl living in a village in west Nepal. We read the book and discussed each picture, then it was time to draw again! I realize now what I should have brought was more paper! This school is very supply-poor. Hopefully I can find something in Pokhara when I go on my days off.

After 5th "period" came another tea break and children running toward me asking for the ball. I laughed and ran up to my room to grab the globe, throwing it off the second floor to the little ones below. They loved it.

I realized that boys act the same no matter where they are from. They would start throwing the giant blow up ball (sort of like a beach ball) but it would quickly descend into chaos as they grabbed each other and chase each other for control. Laughs and squeals and yelps could be heard, but all in all they had so much fun.

Then came one more class with the level 2 kids, and the bell rang to call them all to practice. I went back to my room to escape some of the midday heat until the children finished their hour of Dharma recitation practice. Then they wanted the ball again. If I had known such a simple thing would have brought so much pleasure, I might gave brought 2!

While they played, I sat in the shaded eating area set aside for the teachers and monks and wrote in my journal, then read through a book trying to come up with plans for lessons the next day. I was tired, and it was only 6 oclock! As supper approached, I was unsure how I would eat any more; I was still so stuffed from lunch. I asked to speak to the head monk and explained I was feeling exhausted and was hoping to skip supper tonight; he looked concerned but I assured him I was ok, just feeling slightly under the weather and didn't really have an appetite. He nodded and I thanked him, telling him I didn't want to cause any offense but he smiled and said goodnight.

And I went upstairs and showered. Cold, wonderful shower. So refreshing, that when the warm water started, I turned it off and the cold up. I swear the cold showers are what is allowing me to survive here!

Climbing onto my bed I started reading some more ideas for class the next day, then I turned everything off and went to bed. At like, 930pm. I can't believe how tired I get! I was asleep by 10, waking up at 230 after a horrible nightmare (I don't want to get into it, but I was shaking and almost crying when I awoke in the dark.) I read for an hour, then fell back asleep until 530AM, when the school comes to life.

Everything is so very different here.

I haven't taken any pictures of the school or the monks, but will be asking if it is okay today. I want  to get pictures of the monklets playing, and hopefully of them in class as well. They are charming and loveable and have stolen my heart already.

Time to get going to first class. Namaste, friends,

Laura.

Pokhara, oh Pokhara how I loooove you!

Yes, can't you tell? I love the little neighborhood of Lakeside, the tourist area of Pokhara. Last you heard I was going to go sightseeing, which I did, but without Krishna. Instead, I had a knock on my door and a taxi driver asked if I was Laura, and if I was ready. I was, so I followed him downstairs and we were off! My driver had his uncle visiting, so he took the both of us on tour. First on the agenda was the World Peace Pagoda. It is known as the Pokhara Shanti Stupa,


Saint John-ers, stop complaining about the roads. Oh if you only knew. The roads in Lakeside are not as narrow as Kathmandu, but they are just as potholed and rugged. There is no way to go faster than, say, 40km, and that is pushing it. Most times, just like on the bus, the car moves slower than I could walk. Not that I would want to walk it, as we drove so far up a crazy winding hill to the parking lot of a small cafe. Then we started up the stairs.

So many stairs.

Hey, I'm no lazy girl. Since starting at the gym a couple months ago, I don't have the same trouble with hills or stairs I used to. Except at home we are at sea level-literally. When you start hopping your way happily up what seems to be a million stairs (actually just 500... yeah, just), you soon realize 5500 feet above sea level presents a complication. Before long I was gasping for air, trying my best not to just sit down and give up. I wanted to reach the top.

My taxi driver (why oh why am I so bad with names? I swear I cannot remember ANYONE'S name I have met other than Krishna, and that's because how do you forget a name like Krishna?) chuckled a little and told me it isn't a good idea to dance up the steps like I had been; slower is better. He was right, of course, but we made it to the top and I gulped down some water, and then it was time to see the stupa.

There are four statues to view, all from different countries. (Please read the wiki article linked above for the details, forgive me for not going into them all here.) I took pictures of the statues, the plaques explaining, and some of the different viewpoints. All are in public albums on my facebook profile, please check them out!

After viewing the pagoda and the surrounding area, we made our way back to the taxi and then back into Pokhara to see Devi's fall. This is a natural waterfall (are there unnatural waterfalls?) created where the Phewa river disappears underground. So first we hiked down some more stairs into a dark cavern, then down a rugged trail past a beautiful statue of Shiva. No, not the Final Fantasy GF/Aeon but the Hindu god! Oh geekery.) After stopping to receive a tilaka on my forehead we continued down the 100 feet to the ledge used to observe the falls.

What a sight! It is only the very beginning of monsoon season here, so the water was quite low. I was told that after the rains finish in late August, the noise in the cavern is absolutely deafening. I tried to take some pictures but they didn't turn out well; they are also in the album on FB.

Then it was time to climb up again; first stopping at another statue of a cow. You pay 10 rupees, (about 20 cents, if that) and then drop a ball into a tiny stone chute beside the statue. Then you start milking the cow udders, only to be blessed with milk from stone! The men with me were surprised when I actually made the proper milking motion; thank you summers at the farm in Norton! Milking goats and milking cows are quite similar.

So then we finished our climb, wandered through some market stalls to the outdoor park for Devi's falls. It gets its name not from Devil, which I assumed, but from a tragic accident in 1995 when a Swiss tourist was swept into the falls during a sudden surge of water. There is no where for you to get close enough for that to happen now.

I was able to get a few pictures, then we ambled through the garden, stopping for a rest in a pretty red building. I was told it was built in the same style most traditional Nepali homes were; one large room with everything including cooking, eating and sleeping in it. Soon we were back in the taxi and I was on my way to the hostel.

My driver told me I had the rest of the day to myself, but that he and Krishna would return to pick me up in the morning. 730AM I would be taken to my actual home for the next month; the Pal Ewam Monastic school

So after that trek up the stairs and down into the cavern, I needed a rest. I napped through noon, missing the hottest part of the sun (luckily my power was on so I could use the room fan)  and then went about finding some food. The wifi at the hostel SUCKED so I made sure to find a restaurant with free wifi. After strolling up the main road, I decided on a little place called Once Upon A Time. I had a grilled chicken salad, a gin and tonic (now my favorite drink) and when done, a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

I don't ice cream ever tasted so good.

I walked around for another hour or so, but the sun was still brutal and I wasn't planning on spending any money yet, so back to the hostel for a cold shower and another cat nap. It was much needed after not sleeping much the night before. I do believe I am starting to adjust, though, as later that night I would get a good 6 hours of sleep. Glory be!

For supper I found a semi busy restaurant called Banyan, and finally was able to order some MOMO! I had been so excited to try these and I finally had the chance. DELICIOUS. Momo's are a Nepal version of dumpling, similar to a steamed Japanese gyoza. I chose a chicken filling, and my oh my it was so good. It came with a semi-spicy dipping sauce, and if I hadn't also ordered some fish I would have gorged myself on all ten. But I had ordered fish, and it was worth it. So tender and flakey, not like fish from home tho; it didn't taste of the sea. It was a freshwater fish so it makes sense, but it was nice and light and YUM.

Oh, did I mention both meals were under 7 dollars, including the drinks? I could so get used to this.

After dinner I stopped off across the street from my hostel to chat with the 'cold store' owner I had been buying cans of coke from. He is a pleasant, happy fellow who always tried to add extras to what you want. Coke and water? How about cookies too? Also, tissue paper? I laughed and actually bought the tissue (toilet) paper; unlike the hostel in Kathmandu, mine did not supply any. (Nor did they have a handheld shower with which to wash after going.) So with purchases in hand I was back in my room, another cold shower (I have never loved a cold shower more than here) and then into bed.

Did I mention I brought a sheet, a blanket and a pillow from home in my luggage? And I am glad I did as it is so hot here I can't use the blankets provided. Instead, I lay out my blanket (my comfort blanket I usually can't sleep without anyway) and then use the sheet to cover up. Cool and easy sleep without missing home.

So that was Sunday, my day of adventure in Pokhara. I'll write about the monastic school tomorrow. I am finally tired and just want to SLEEP!

Namaste, friends.

PS: Thank you all for your comments! Here and on FB, I am totally feeling the love. Please, share the blog if you are liking it, and also (I hate to bring it up) my gofundme page. I can still receive donations here, and would love to be able to buy some paper and supplies for the monklets. They love to draw but paper is limited.

Thank you! Love from the other side of the world.

Laura

Who needs sleep?

It is 430 am here in Pokhara, and the sun is already rising. It sets much earlier here, around 8pm. I am still having trouble sleeping. I am worried about it; hopefully once I get a chance to walk and explore and wear myself out, I might be able to get a good night's sleep.

Yesterday morning I woke up much earlier than I needed to for my 7am bus from KTM to Pokhara.

Fortunately I had wifi access and was able to chat with friends at home. It was nice to connect with them.
Then, I got ready and toted my luggage down the stairs to the lobby of the Kathmandu Peace Guest House; I was surprised to nixing the young guys who picked us up at the airport and worked in the hostel to be sleeping in the common room! Two shared a mattress on the floor and one was sleeping on a sofa. The owner/operator was awake, instructing the boys to get the van ready. I was the only one leaving so early!
We loaded my belongings in the van, waited for the engine to warm up and bam-I was off. The driver took me to a long line of buses, found the company I had a ticket with (Benchmark tours) and settled in for what turned out to be a 7 1/2 hour busride. While I was waiting for departure, a woman carrying a baby began banging on the side of the bus to get y attention. She started making eating motions and gesturing to her baby. An adorable, happy baby, but I didn't give her any cash. Maybe I'm heartless, but I just don't feel like handouts are solving anything. Plus I only had about 180 rupees (about 1.60 Canadian) and I wanted to keep them for water along the way.

The bus filled up and departed, driving thru Kathmandu slower than I could walk. The traffic and the roads are just so bad it is tough to do anything. When idling in traffic, young boys and some men would walk alongside, hawking chips, water, dried fruit and newspapers. 20 rupees for a bottle of water. That is maybe about 15 cents. I can't believe how much we pa for water back home, and we can drink from our taps... Drinking untreated water here will leave you with a bad case of dysentery. Anyway, I bought a water, handing the 20 rupee note out the window and reached for the cold bottle of water. It didn't stay cold long! The weather heated up and I was grateful when we started driving faster, the wind blowing through the window was refreshing.

We drove along, I was trying to rest and enjoy the scenery. I snapped pictures from the window, I will upload them as soon as possible. I am struck by the beauty of this country. The mountains a covered in lush greenery, exotic flowers grew alongside the road.

The road. Oh the road! Such a narrow, winding road through the valley up to Pokhara. Buses in front of us, buses behind us, vans and motorbikes beep as the pass. Twice we were almost in collisions as opposing traffic tried to pass in our lane, coming dangerously close to crashing into us. Yet they seem to know what they are doing.

Traffic in Nepal means almost non stop honking of horns. It is a continual array of different beeps, over and over. After a couple hours, I was able to ignore them for the most part. Then we stopped for lunch.
Oh it was a little roadside 'tourist lunch counter'. You chose from the menu what you want, then pay at an inside counter. Then you go to the next room with a receipt and get your food. It is all pre-prepared so that you can eat and get on the bus quickly. You know what? I can't eat quickly. Plus I only had that limited amount and was dying for an actual coke. My body is not handling the lack of caffeine very well. I don't know if they gouged me but I paid 150 rupees for a bottle. Less than what I would pay at home, more than I paid for the Pepsi at the Kathmandu hostel. But it was worth it. I was worried about eating and then getting on the bus and being sick without being able to stop.

However I did experience something new... I used a squat toilet at the rest stop. The toilets were in these small, dark closets without a light (mental note, keep a flashlight in my backpack to prevent having to do business in the dark), with a tap and a small hand bucket nearby. I hiked up my skirts and did my business and cleaned up, proud at having researched this previously so that I knew what I was doing. It wasn't so bad, either. Just different.

Anyway, we were back on the bus and traveling again, gorgeous landscapes rolling by. I kept trying to nap, I was so tired ( I've been tired since leaving London) but to no avail. So I put in headphones and listened to music while I read, occasionally taking a picture from the window. We stopped a second time for food and toilet breaks, and damn I wanted momo's but had no Nepali currency. They looked so good! I can't wait until I get to try some. I will find them today as I explore Pokhara.

Finally we finished the journey, and I looked out the window into the crowded dirt parking lot for Krishna, the head of Alliance Nepal. He led me to a cab and then climbed on his motorcycle, meeting me at the Be Happy Guest House, where I am spending two days before leaving Monday morning for the monastery. (I am so freaked out at the idea of teaching but that is what I signed up for and so I will do my best).
After getting settles in the hostel, filling out some paperwork for the organization and handing over my fees, Krishna gave me homework! He handed me some sheets of Nepali/English translations, and instructed me try and learn. One of my goals is trying to pick up some of the language, but damn it is so very different than any language I have tried to learn before. I have trouble even hearing differences in what people are saying. I hope that once I am able to get a good nights sleep and get into a grove, I will be able to start comprehending it better. I hope.

So Krishna left me with some free time, saying he would be back at 7 to take me to supper. We walked down the main road in Lakeside (the part of Pokhara I am staying in right now) to a beautiful outdoor restaurant. A young man from Denmark that is staying with Krishna's family and teaching at a local school was waiting, and we sat down to a delicious dinner. I had chicken tikka masala with rice. So absolutely delicious, and no gastric distress! I am amazed at how little the foods I haves been eating make me sick; at home this style of cooking usually means I'm sick for the next day! Here, so far so good.

We talked about our home countries, what Pokhara was like, storied of our families while we ate. There was also a stage at the side of the dining area where a troupe of locals performed traditional Nepali dances and songs.

After supper, the young man from Denmark (for the life of me I can't remember his name, it was rather peculiar) walked me partway down the street while Krishna retrieved his motorcycle. It was a pleasant chat, then we parted ways and I walked the last block through the dark streets (very few street lamps or lights on the road) and clamoured up the steps to my room.

A quick shower, nice and cool and refreshing, then the power was out! This happens often, as Nepa, cannot produce enough power to sustain 24 hour service. I found my flashlights (the head lamp kind) and hung them from the ceiling fan. It was the time to get ready for bed; I wanted to read some more language translations, but my head was killing me and I only had Tylenol PM.

Eek! Somehow I forgot to bring regular acetaminophen, regular ibuprofen AND my contact lens solution. So one of my goals today is to find these necessities!

Anyway, I watched a movie on my computer and then went to bed, falling asleep for about 4-5 hours. I need a better nights sleep.

This morning I am meeting Krishna at 9am to go sightseeing, then this afternoon I will have free time to explore a bit. It is very intimidating, even tho the streets here are cleaner than Katmandu and there are many more tourists here.

I am missing certain things. My cat. The ability to just call or text a friend whenever I want. Cold, very cold cans of Coke. Even just rewarding myself with a video game at the end of the day. Yet I knew this would be difficult. The difficult things are usually the most worthwhile.

So worry not, friends, I am surviving. I know I will be able to stay positive as long as I can start sleeping better! I will y to upload this as soon as I can find an internet connection. For now, I have a couple hours before I need to get up and get ready. I am going to try and sleep, hopefully even just a nap will help.

Namaste,

Laura