If you are a woman from the Western world, you must carry tissues AT ALL TIMES because they JUST. DON’T PUT. TOILET PAPER IN PUBLIC BATHROOMS! Feeling smug as I’m leaving because I remembered to bring an entire roll, that pride turned to sheer panic as I realize I DON’T REMEMBER WHERE WE PARKED NOR DO I KNOW WHAT TYPE OF CAR IT IS! So busy taking in the condition of the car, I didn’t bother to see what the make or model was. A bit disoriented when I woke up & in my zest to high tail it to the bathroom & get out of the rain, it TOTALLY slipped my mind to FRIGGIN' LOOK AT WHERE WE WERE! Ok well at least I knew the color of the car so that was something. Now my brain is working overtime, the driver could be on the way to Katmandu by now with my brand new computer, MP3 player & speakers—items I just replaced after being stolen in my last trip to Bogotá, not to mention my camera. MY CAMERA! NEW COMPUTER! MONEY! OHMYGAWD! I call him heart racing, at least I had the wherewithal to get his number, OHMYGAWD I'VE CALLED TWICE, HE’S NOT PICKING UP!!! Seconds feel like hours as I wait then try the call again, ok, ok, I got this I got this I'm calm I'm calm [LIAR] & when I hear a jumbled mix of Hindi & English & I scream ‘WHERE ARE YOU I CAN’T FIND THE CARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!’ I don’t think he actually understood what the hell I said but I heard ‘I’m coming Madam’ & in moments he appeared while I realized I’d woven my way around to standing right in FRONT of the car! Duh-uh!
Thanks Angels. Man, they worked overtime on this gig. Phew!
The moral of this story? Don’t panic! Breathe, you may actually have the answer but are too busy panicking to see it!!
So even though I was safe & sound with my belongings, think I got out of the car when we stopped again hours later? HEY-YALL NO! I sat just as blissful as a frog with an insect while my driver Unna ordered some food at a place on the side of the road & though I wanted to get out to stretch my legs they didn’t cooperate in moving though in all honesty, the command wasn’t too convincing. I felt better sitting right where I was.
The next time I woke up, it was to greenery & more rain. Undaunted & happy because it’s just like the dancers said it would be—quiet, peaceful & clean. Angels are singing in my head, the harps are just as angelic, ahhh-AHHHH—but oh no, no-ho-ho-ho the song changes to HAHHHHNNNKKKK!! HONK HONK!!! Aw crap, eh-hem, e-hem, e-hem! Gagging from the exhaust of the truck in front, the idyllic scene goes POOF! chaos returns—as we begin the ascent up the mountains I see: funky, pollution-choked villages, squalor & frenzy. I fight to stay positive as we continue to climb, [THIS IS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND!] & when we reach the summit we stop at the taxi stand to pick up…WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY & WHY ARE WE STOPPING?! Now what’s gonna happen, am I going to be thrown off the damn mountain? Ok Bird, calm down. Sounded like Unna said we were picking up someone’s brother & of course, when 'someone's brother' gets in the car, he doesn’t say hello or acknowledge me in the least. Now I’m in Pissed-Off Mode & try unsuccessfully to find out exactly who he is & what his function is. Once again I remind myself of calm & that I trusted the person who set this all up. While my inner counseling session is going on, we are stuck in a massive grid-lock of a jam on a very, very narrow ass road with a big big ass truck. 'We'll never get out of this' I think as I contemplate spending the 4 days in that same spot.
Fed up, a driver gets out of his car & begins directing the others out of the jam & I have to say, it was rather fascinating watching that scene unfold. Once free, we drive through Mall Road with tons of shops clambering for customers. I also begin to get glimpses of why I’ve come, the views are spectacular! All fear gone, I start ‘clicking’ [as the Indians call taking pictures] like mad, balancing on one cheek as the car swerves to one side then another on the steep, circuitous road upward, wide enough for one but of course it’s two-way. I only hope I can capture an inkling of the beauty, the majesty of what I’m witnessing. Frrrrrrrip! The song of harps & angelic voices that fill my head abruptly ends [& rather rudely I might add] as we stop in the middle of NOWHERE. Unna steps out of the car, motioning we’ve arrived & I’m thinking ‘arrived WHERE I don’t see anything!’ Oh gawd, ion my head the tune ‘They’re Gonna Throw Me Off the Mountain As the Sun Goes Down’ starts playing up again, much faster & quite loudly. 'Oh dear Bird, get a grip' I remind myself, 'do some of that deep breathing you do in yoga' but of course my brain’s playing the song faster & even louder while yellin’ WHERE THE HELL ARE WE I DON’T SEE HOUSE THE FIRST I JUST SEE TREES THE ROAD & THE VALLEY!!!! Ever notice that when you’re brain is screaming it doesn’t use punctuation like commas?
Someone's Brother, who I had forgotten about when the angelic song was playing, points downward & I think THEY’RE GONNA TOSS ME OVER FO’ SHORE! 'Bird will ya BREATHE already CALM. DOWN!' I manage not to start bawlin’ & decide to perhaps look in the direction the dude was pointing in without anticipating getting thumped in the back of the head with a Tibetan Singing Bowl & with great relief, see a red roof. What my host told me about his family home slowly comes back & I manage to babble, ‘down there? The house is DOWN THERE?!’ Yup. So we take my things & head down, me with much caution because bedfellows does not sandals & wet leaves make. I didn’t want to stumble on a rock or slip on some leaves & end up pitching off the doggone mountain by my own accord!