o madaba o madaba

12.11.2012

Madaba, o Madaba Maaa-Dah-Bah.  And around the circle Sapana sang a happy tune behind the five bulls.  Oh Madaba.  Let’s take a word you’ve never heard before with a definition confined to the threshing grounds and turn it into art.

Or sadness.  The two Chinese dance outside behaving as it may be like the rest of the world.  What gives their costume to blend away?  Simple, no God, no spirit. 

I didn’t write yesterday and today I write because I am tired and I don’t want to do anything except write and wonder, shit, ten days to go.  WTF have I been thinking for four absurd years.  Absurd.  The restlessness has never been as worse in my life and I am tripping out with the impossible and the same ol freaking life ad nauseum.  “O Jone, 21 December all die?” 

No no I told Beem and the laughing fifteen year old singer, ‘some go up and some go down’ and shockingly that made sense to them but immediately after I knew he knew I fear again how wrong I will, may, probably be.  What’s the percentage now we’re on-line with God?  Feels low today, 20%. 

The chill hurts my nose and it’s time to play Phillip Glass for the breakfast gathering Thai’s in rooms 1-4.  Laxman and Maya cook, the day after tomorrow World Bank’s rep to Nepal is coming to Sarangkot.  Below the rice fields below the grandparent’s house a new road, 11km worth, is being smoothed and readied, from Pokhara to Naudada, paid for by the World Bank.  Make a pitch for water, make a pitch for an energy grid and this music is beginning to irritate. 

Maya blows ashes to spark the fire outside.  It’s snowing ash, what am I going to do today?  Out of gangi, bummer, no attempts to find more though I hoped yesterday to find a rogue.  Oh well, seven shots of Finlandia Vodka with lime didn’t find me bowed over the terrace.  Didi would have surely found that. 

I’ll just keep smoking and coughing.  The Thais are here for another night.  Light candles, paint rock, what else would I like to do?  Maya is not asking me to do anything today, thank you, she’s got help today. 

Nyima’s wife gave me a hard time because in September I said I’d come by again on a Saturday in October and two months later, Surprise!  Says the more even keeled daughter and we, I should say they made buffalo momos in the kitchen.   

6pm, the Thai’s chat outside their rooms, go in the rooms it’s cold outside.  Laxman came by and we finished the Finnish stuff, two Malaysian men checked into room five, two Malays open with gangi.  I am surprised and wished I’d looked for some when I was there.  Drinking in the afternoon laid me to waste, a nap, a forced nap did me in until Suraksha came by, ate the remains of the Italian chocolate, started in on the Dutch tortilla chips, and then we watched  video clips of her birthday for the first time.  Now’s she’s gone.  Gone gone gone and my stomach is blah blah blah.  I could vomit now, I should vomit now.  Waking up on the 22^nd feeling like shit would be justice, to feel so sick I throw my lap top out the window.  Should we plan it?