I'm sitting in a Newari restaurant right now, which is a
terrifying 10 minute walk from my hotel. It is not terrifying because of
Kathmandu, which by all tales is a lovely, relatively crime free and safe
place. Instead my paranoid NY woman alarms were clanging like crazy with every
stumble on the uneven sidewalk, with every motorcycle and general chaos zooming by
and a faint but distinct smell of sewage in the air. Oh, and it's dark out.
Anyway, I ordered a giant Tuborg (because Denmark!) and
there is techno music blasting in an otherwise charming restaurant filled mostly
with locals. The singer is shouting "I just want to feel this
moment," and I'm thinking, if I feel this moment anymore I might explode.
What a fantastic life it is to deliver me to this amazing place on the other side of the world...a long way from exit 9.
I'm eating a vegetarian platter that has a delicious mix
of identifiable and unidentifiable veg, including a distinct spice I can't
quite place. Sumac? Tamarind?
With each bite I think, yum and please don't get food
poisoning! I also think the chef from Fredriksgade would freaking love all of
these veggies. It's not all fantastic. There's a weird and large pile of
seemingly uncooked oatmeal in the middle of the plate that I could definitely, and
likely will, skip. (The waiter later told me it was "beaten rice").
My Tuborg cuts the spice perfectly as I think, well
haven't I just jumped right in to authentic NEPAL?! I also think, please don't
curse my bowels 😬
I remember the challenge to walk anywhere in K. And the dark as most of the city is without power most of the time...and yet there is a fascination to it all...and we never felt afraid...just sometimes disbelieving.
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