HALFWAY POINT

Wednesday, November 9^th, 2011

At the House, at 9:25 PM

So I went out for a drink (as in tea) with a fellow American tonight. I was hoping to be back at the house by dinner, but the conversation was good, and I arrived a little late. They saved me a plate of – you guessed it – daal bhat (soup and rice). This is what we eat for breakfast (or “brunch” as they say), lunch and dinner. It was cold. As I began eating the soup I thought to myself, this has a seafood taste to it...interesting. Then I looked down to take another spoonful and saw miniature eyes looking at me – mini fish – anchovies of some kind, with their tiny heads still attached.

I have gotten quite used to the way things are by now, even the grimier details, and I am okay with it. A shower once, maybe twice a week that happens as quickly as possible before the water pools on the floor and begins to seep over my flip flops (the Everest trip prepped me for that), the fact that pollution is a daily vitamin here, and the dirt that becomes both an insulator and a layer of protection against...well...dirt. When I think about such things I get frustrated. I have come up with a solution. Just don't think about it.

My fellow student in Nepali language arts is my small 2 year old friend named Unika, the one who calls me “Jake Uncle.” We are in the same situation because she is just learning to talk the Nepali language. I think she will be moving to the next grade sooner than I will though. She is something of an honors student while I am falling behind!

The past several days I have been busy putting together rough ideas for the streamlined document, and teaching English to the students at the Women's Center. I have also been spending a lot of time at the cafe because I had a huge test this week for school that I had to complete. It was a comprehensive test covering every subject studied for my degree. I completed it today – FINALLY – but I still have other projects and readings to do. It just never ends, does it?

Yesterday we went out into the streets again to look for some “street kids” to “minister” to. I had been out on these trips two other times and to my dismay we had not found any street children, and the afternoons had been spent taking long walks. We were preparing to turn around and walk a few miles back home again when we spied a few small dirty faces in the busy market place. Bibek, the street children minister leader, told me he had talked to them before and that they knew him. They came up to us and talked. We took some pictures and bought them some circle bread (basically a donut) and chia (milk tea). Then a stray dog appeared and I was surprised to see the children – who probably hadn't eaten anything all day – share some of their circle bread with the dog. I asked if the dog was their pet, and they said yes and that his name was Lucky. I'd say so, with the bits of the sweet bread lying at his feet.