I think I am in love. Big Time. It just feels so right.
With my new apartment, that is! I feel so lucky these days, it is hard to even describe how things have slowly fallen into place for me. I really think the stars are aligned or something.
Saying goodbye to my friends the other day, who left me once again for China, I was left feeling a bit confused on what my next move should be. After talking up my hotel for the last few weeks, mostly in attempt to make myself feel better about the situation...this apartment literally fell into my lap. A friend of a friend was looking for a roommate, so I though why the hell not, might as well have a look.
So during another infamous power cut, I met up with Liv (pronounced Lou, a little ironic I must say) to check it out. Even in the dark I could tell this would be the best move I could make. Now I'm second guessing my decision to come home to Seattle this summer, knowing what lies ahead of me, and the next time I will actually have a place this nice...hhmmm.
I am so happy to get the hell out of Thamel. It's nice for about a....minute, but no longer. I think I had already long overstayed my welcome there. The past few days, I almost a breakdown on the street a few times, and you know those are always fun. There are 15 kids that sit on the corner leading into Thamel. They sniff glue. They sniff gasoline. They are little kids.
There are blankets piled up in this one little corner, where they nap together and pass the days. Some are more bold than others, and often roam through into Thamel to hit up the passing tourists.
This is a corner I was walking by everyday to go to work. Normal thoughts that run through my head go like this: I really need a new pair of shoes, I'm sick of looking like a boy in my dirty tennis shoes; I wonder what will be for lunch day; omg there's Obama's pictures again, I love Obama; I really don't understand why honking is a reflex, and why everything thinks it's necessary to honk at all times of day for no reason-then I'm brought back down to reality again, every single day- shit, there they are again, sniffing glue and living homeless. They don't have anywhere to go, and they have no one that looks after them. They should be somewhere warm eating something delicious. WTF.
Long story short, while I need these reality checks every once in a while (and no, not all of my thoughts are shallow) it is starting to be a huge challenge coming to terms with the fact that I feel so helpless; utterly powerless. There is nothing I can do, unless I decide to devote my life to these kids.
Twice in the past few days, one boy in particular has come up to me on the street. He definitely recognized me -or if he is flying as high as a kite I'm just another whitey to him-and he grabs me around the waste. Wrapping his little arms around my back, and grabbing my hand with his other hand, he asks "one biscuit, please..come on just gimme one biscuit." He is not necessarily rude, just aggressive and I don't like having people touch me.
Maybe if I were Mother Theresa, or if I had even enough money to fund myself (which most days I barely do) I could buy him all the biscuits in the world. I could buy him a hot cup of Chai, a clean shirt. A pair of shoes, for God's sake. Unfortunately, I am neither of those; I end up just feeling like a bad person because I know none of those solutions are sustainable anyway, and I wonder what I am really doing here. Then I feel guilty for having extreme OCD and wanting him to get his hands off of me, and for thinking that I hate being violated like that. I am at a loss for words. This place is full of conundrums, and life goes on. It always does, so what do I do now?
I just thought I would share that because it has been on my mind a lot.
On a lighter note, I moved out of my hotel last night! I packed up everything that I own into bags, and utterly disgusted/shocked at how much stuff I have magically accumulated, I vowed to never buy anything again (until today when I bought things for the house, whoops.) I had to make two trips, about a twenty minute walk one way, so I was huffing and puffing back and forth for a good couple of hours. Each time, at least three people would ask me where I was going. Barely able to catch my breath (and sweat dripping down my back through my sweater that I couldn't take off because I had too much stuff) I just said, "don't worry I live here, just around the corner!" Really thinking, shit I wish someone would pick me up and give me a ride.
With my last bags finally packed on round two, I had some heavier items in a paper bag. Books, a photo album, some dvds etc. I bought a celebratory beer to drink while I was unpacking, and carefully positioned it on the top of this load. As I was leaving my room, the string handle started ripping, so I had to carry it on my hip like you would carry a baby. While I'm checking out and saying goodbye to my friends at the hotel, and thanking them for everything they did for me (like sneak me extra candles every night) I attempted to bend over, with my already bulging backpack on, to pick up the paper sack. Full to the brim, and already ripping at the seams I lost my grip and it slipped, crashing to the floor and shattering the beer in a million peaces on the floor. Beer sprayed everywhere. I just looked at them bewildered, "Okay thanks, See ya later!" Haha, no just kidding, I helped clean up.
At least I went out with a bang, and they will have a good laugh when they think of that clumsy girl who spilled her booze all over the floor. Good job.
So best news of the day, I have a wonderful apartment. A big bedroom with massive windows and sunlight. An awesome new roommate, and a sweet neighborhood. I could not be happier. Now I just wish you all, who actually read this, would come visit me!!! That would make everything even more wonderful.
over and out.
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