A Small Triumph
There must be a widely-circulated manual across the planet for dealing with westerners... a manual that must have an illustrated chapter entitled 'guilt and entrapment the easy way.' Instead of just inviting you out someplace, it's common for people to extract some kind of promise from you, and they take it so seriously it becomes ridiculous. Like, 'tea at four? with pastries and apricots? PROMISE! PROMISE! PROMISE!' As if i would EVER skip out on pastries. Psh.
But for once, it works in my favor. I've somehow managed to contract a beau for the next 6 days, which basically involved me promising not to abandon him before my flight leaves (or as he put it '[until] bangkok day leaving'). Sounds like a good deal. This is the guy who lives in a small village and drives a bus... what's more intriguing is that i found out yesterday that he's also a part time farmer of mustard, rape, and ganja. It's about as blue collar as you get, but at least it's challenging my idea that only lesbians have rough hands. So to answer my own question a few days ago having something to do with becoming a sex tourist... the answer is a yes after checking the 'hindu' box on the sexlist. The valentine's day romp was all about buddhism and that was a fucking disaster... no enlightnement there that's for damn sure. Anyway, i have a feeling this isn't going to end too well either since i actually like the guy... so yeah, bring on the looming emotional catastrophe. What's the connection with buying plane tickets and having emotional catastrophes anyway? It happens all the time.
He showed me around the village and i met like a million new best friends who don't speak a word of english, but they all like to laugh. Very light people; i like that. I'm going back to lubhu in a few hours to walk around the fields with him at sunset when the green of the rice and the yellow of the mustard blossoms is just set aflame by the angle of the light. It's a spectacle, with the hillside terraces glowing in front of purple mountains capped with snow... and then we're going to get silly with rice beer that comes served in buckets (obviously requiring you to be silly). One of the things i like best about walking around the fields and the village with him is that he points things out i'd never notice on my own. Like old boulders with little ganeshes and vishnus that were carved into the nooks and cracks like a thousand years ago. And being allowed into temples even though i'm not hindu and being welcomed anywhere we end up, be it a weaver's hut or wedding party... the dude is total access. And incredibly charming. With dimples. Goddamn.
I bought a(nother) ticket to bangkok today, and this one leaves from the nifty kathmandu airport rather than the nightmare of the calcutta airport and even saves me the trouble of going through a border crossing famed lately for killings. Not to mention crossing bihar to get to west bengal. Oy. Yay for nepali travel agents!
Ok power cut approaching. Disengage.
But for once, it works in my favor. I've somehow managed to contract a beau for the next 6 days, which basically involved me promising not to abandon him before my flight leaves (or as he put it '[until] bangkok day leaving'). Sounds like a good deal. This is the guy who lives in a small village and drives a bus... what's more intriguing is that i found out yesterday that he's also a part time farmer of mustard, rape, and ganja. It's about as blue collar as you get, but at least it's challenging my idea that only lesbians have rough hands. So to answer my own question a few days ago having something to do with becoming a sex tourist... the answer is a yes after checking the 'hindu' box on the sexlist. The valentine's day romp was all about buddhism and that was a fucking disaster... no enlightnement there that's for damn sure. Anyway, i have a feeling this isn't going to end too well either since i actually like the guy... so yeah, bring on the looming emotional catastrophe. What's the connection with buying plane tickets and having emotional catastrophes anyway? It happens all the time.
He showed me around the village and i met like a million new best friends who don't speak a word of english, but they all like to laugh. Very light people; i like that. I'm going back to lubhu in a few hours to walk around the fields with him at sunset when the green of the rice and the yellow of the mustard blossoms is just set aflame by the angle of the light. It's a spectacle, with the hillside terraces glowing in front of purple mountains capped with snow... and then we're going to get silly with rice beer that comes served in buckets (obviously requiring you to be silly). One of the things i like best about walking around the fields and the village with him is that he points things out i'd never notice on my own. Like old boulders with little ganeshes and vishnus that were carved into the nooks and cracks like a thousand years ago. And being allowed into temples even though i'm not hindu and being welcomed anywhere we end up, be it a weaver's hut or wedding party... the dude is total access. And incredibly charming. With dimples. Goddamn.
I bought a(nother) ticket to bangkok today, and this one leaves from the nifty kathmandu airport rather than the nightmare of the calcutta airport and even saves me the trouble of going through a border crossing famed lately for killings. Not to mention crossing bihar to get to west bengal. Oy. Yay for nepali travel agents!
Ok power cut approaching. Disengage.