[ Kathmandu, Nepal ]
No. Not Etta James, silly.
At last Home.
At last Nepal. Duh.
I arrived today around lunchtime, drooling at the thought of a no-frills daal bhat eaten with bare hands. My flight’s final descent provided a ten-minute, uninterrupted view of a crystal clear Mt. Everest–one hell of a welcome home. The stage was set. Even immigration bureaucrats couldn’t dampen my mood; I argued basic math with an official determined to deny my request for a 90-day visa (I won this argument, eventually, by proving that 105 + 45 = 150. A numerical genius, I am.) Ditto the requisite haggling over cab fare.
We pulled out of the airport’s drab parking area into Kathmandu proper–neighborhood after neighborhood teeming with joyful, vibrating, scented magic. The deal was sealed. Yesterday’s melancholy was now an insufferable grin of happiness, involuntary and unshakable. Woot! The driver probably thought I was a bit touched in the head–which I stuck out the front window most of the way to Red Planet, sniffing the air like a dog. No, really. I did.
What can I say? This is Nepal, and I’m home again, at long last.
See you around…