the trees

1/22/13

Outside room eight with another sunrise, yesterday morning’s negative thinking dissipated with social interactions.  I am not a sick man. Laxman returned from the wedding in Pokhara and we ate dinner with the Italian lady from Naples in room four.  Earlier Prem Maya and Ram dropped by for tea which I made the Nepali way. Before that I made milk tea, the Nepali way, for Didi and myself.  I also gave her a toasted peanut butter sandwich, cut in squares.  I don’t know what she thought of the strong tea and toast.  At half past five I made egg fried rice for Didi and it wasn’t the best fried rice, proportions are something I need to improve but she said it was ok, ok like it needs another onion and a few more spices.

Locals who climbed to the top to see the sunrise filter down.  An improved road would bring far more to the top and the conversations in front of Shiva’s place is who will benefit.  I wouldn’t benefit unless I fell in love with someone on one of those polluting buses.  The sun warms, standing up and typing is much easier on the back.

How different would my writing be if I had professors to tell me how to make it better, I have no idea.  Who do you write to?  Who the hell knows?  Do you think you have something to say that would change a life?  Sigh, no, probably not, this is mental exercise, meditation spilling out because isolation tires. 

I wish to inform myself I am not sick.  If there is a mistake I make typing my thoughts out is putting it on-line.  How different this is from writing with a pen is minimal, making it public might be the mistake.  Oh for the love of God if anyone has read everything they would see…I don’t know they would see.  I certainly don’t listen to those who say I need a psychologist, well who doesn’t, oh the jesus people, the Buddhist folks, of course, let’s go there now. I admire the locals here and in most of Asia who don’t turn to professional help because family is still the center for conflict resolution.

Room eight doesn’t have a toilet.  Last year some were quite upset when I told them I had to drop some serious cable in the jungle because I couldn’t make it up three flights of stone stairs to do it in the loo. 

The lady from Naples came by the room to say goodbye and then I listened to Guns and Roses Knockin on heaven’s door, ya wonder sometimes how long you can hold it in.  Heading to Laos and Vietnam I helped her out with Shiva’s medicine for her remaining days in the country.  O Simone, why are you taking a photo of my medicinal?  Ciao.

After returning to room eight last night Prakash came by and several hours later Laxman took him up to stay with his bald-headed father at the radio station at the top of the tower and it must been something to see the men tie this kid down to a bed.  No, I got no sleep last night.  Here dude, have a cup of tea.  Pants torn, bloody knuckles and a fat lip.  He’s hanging on how I do not know.

A job in Saudi is offering money I can’t understand however they will interview candidates in the states and how will I get there?  Where will I live how will I eat what ratty clothes will I wear?  I’m stranded.

Two hours of cutting up two trees Beem felled with sharp sickles.  Traditional work is the hardest in the world.   At sixty seven the patriarch stills knows how to swing a medieval axe.  He has been asking me to sleep in their small house and I am feeling obligated to do it soon.  Tomorrow I may return to the thick jungle and continue with the cut, we’ll see, the hands are sore, minor cuts , a sore back.

1.23.13

At sunset we carried logs from one tree back to the homestead and Ama offered a glass of chai and a plate of popcorn.  This morning my sunrise breakfast of kernals subsides hunger.

Ya know I look at what everyone is doing on facebook and only I remain in place.  I would like to continue my life with someone.  I believed I had been shown the end of the world but since this imaginary little tale is done with I want to start anew.  O lord how the hell am I going to think differently?  And yes the lady from Naples will remind me of Anne Hathaway.  Not too bad a memory.

I should be more upset, I should be more frantic, but think about it, where else in the world can you remain alive without a job but with shelter, food now scaled back at breakfast (last night’s curry chicken was delicious) I wanna cut down more trees.  And speaking of trees, as I chopped the wood kept reminding me of a turkey breast you’d buy in a deli.  So clean and looking just like pine. 

Maya is beginning to show some concern now that it is time to be frantic, to worry, to reduce our spending and conserve, fewer tourists, no money from me coming to them, I feel bad but!  I gave too much when I arrived, if I were to have spread it out….

1.24.13

Five hours cutting wood on the side of a mountain with an ancient sickle and then carrying it up and to the homestead was my penance I mumbled, the log on my back held by a rope across my forehead.  I am in remorse.  And the family, a most dramatic family I’ve lived with, all the crying with happy faces, ah the Nepali life Nepali culture, human symmetry exposed with no place to hide, unless you take off and try to leave the country or you catch the local bus on the first road below and go to a brother’s sister’s son’s wedding with people waiting for their fried eggs, toast and jam though we’re out of jam and milk coffee. 

My hands look like I was in a fight with a cat. The internet men are here and Suman paces.  I don’t know what is going to happen to me if I don’t find a job.  Really.  What are the options?  Rates for flights to LAX have gone up two hundred smackers since I priced a flight three weeks ago.  The Emirates, India, there is no where else. 

Three clueless Chinese with expensive cameras stand on the roof taking photos of pink tipped Lamjung and Annapurna 2 while the sun rises.  Hey!  You’re missing the sun rise you amateurs, look to your right.  With the day’s sun above the ranges one of the ladies squawks loud enough dogs bark and the three turn in a communist union.  Suman plays with his computer loudly and by the end of the day nine Chinese from Chengdu arrive and they camp in rooms one, two, three and seven.  Seven. please keep it down.  Goodnite.