shite

I bought a pretty new pink scarf. Thick wool, bright deep pink. It makes me feel happy. Maybe that's silly, but I put it on whenever I need to lift my spirits. Yesterday I decided to go for a walk to Assan, an open market area in Kathmandu. It's a bustling mix of street vendors selling fruits and veggies, and open stalls with beautiful copper plates and bowls. I was prancing along reveling in how gorgeous the day was, a perfect sunny almost summer like day it was. La di da, life is beautiful...and all of a sudden as if someone had bent out through their window and poured an entire bucket out....I felt an oozing splash of liquid on my head! I got shat on, big time! So what better way to come and rain on my parade, apparently a full flock of pigeons. Geez.

So I pouted my way home, cussing under my breath, thinking of all the worst swear words I knew, and angry for how quickly my morning plans had been foiled. Not to mention, since we have, oh approximately four hours of power during the day if we are lucky, there was no power when I got home. So dunking my shit stained mess of hair under the freezing cold tap, I took the coldest shower of my life. Not to mention, my beautiful new scarf is now tainted, and being the opposite of a house wifey, my cleaning skills are not up to par.

Not to be a whiner, but it was actually kind of hilarious. Imagine me walking around in the busiest street of Nepal, with a royal pout on my face, and bird shit covering my hair, and a thirty minute walk to any sort of safety. I mean, I get stared at enough as it is, but really come on now.

I am taking this as a sign of good luck. In many cultures being shat on is great luck, so maybe this is a new turning point in my life. Let's try to be positive about this, great things are to come. That's what I was telling myself amidst my little fury.

I went on my first run in Nepal this morning! Maybe this does not sound like such a great accomplishment for all of you that have gorgeous green parks to run in, or secluded gyms devoid of staring eyeballs. It felt great, and it's nice to know that my legs are still in working order after so many months of becoming a sloth. However, I think I may have contracted black lung from the trucks and traffic spewing pollution, and the Didi's sweeping dust up in my face. I've been coughing all morning. Uh oh. So when I return from this never never land, don't be alarmed if I greet you with a raucous smokers cough, I quit smoking months ago I swear!

Plans for my return are underway, so for any of you out there who have suggestions for a home, a job, or have a couch for me...keep me in mind. Gracias a todas.

over and out.