11/10/2008

With so many new sights, sounds and particularly smells, it’s hard to say if Kathmandu is what I expected. Arriving in the evening, the airport was dimly lit and unique to navigate through. After waiting in line to apply for a visa, I talked to a kind clerk and paid 100USD to stay for the first 90 days. Apparently it needs to be renewed downtown once that time is up. I joined the crowd of people jammed around the carousel waiting for their bags. I recognized a woman that I had met in Bahrain who is on her way to beginning a huge expedition in the Himalayas; we chatted about our flight and about this new and wonderful place, and both became nervous and the crowd around us thinned as everyone else was leaving through customs with their luggage. She recovered her two bags, and I soon spotted mine which was clearly short of a sleeping bag. I grabbed my pack and waited as more bags revolved around. When everyone else was gone, and the carousel stopped, I approached a man and told him baout my dilemma. He efficiently filled out a form, and I proceeded to exit the airport without going though any customs or security check.

A representative from the hotel was loyally waiting for me outside, with my name hastily drawn onto a looseleaf piece of paper. He quickly shook my hand and lead me to a waiting taxi. Without a moment of hesitation, the driver took off and accelerated straight into a crowd of people who were leisuriely socializing in the middle of the road. After repeaditly blaring the horn, we made it through and sped our way into the city. The man who had greeted me was directing the driver, and I was soon discussing my nationality with him. We talked about the weather and about parks as we wove through traffic on whichever side of the road seemed most efficient. Arriving at the guest house, we each drank a cup of tea in a poorly lit lobby. I filled out the necessary forms as he talked about his other job as a graphic designer. I bid him goodnight and soon retreated to my spacious double room. Discovering that the electricity stops at 9PM, I guided myself by the light of the street outside my window and got ready for bed. I was able to wash my face and brush my teeth without a room full of people watching me for the first time in what seemed like ages. I quickly removed my contacts, threw on my pyjamas and hopped into my waiting bed.
My bed was cafrefully prepared for me, and the sheets were perfectly tucked in. At first I was relieved to be able to sleep somewhere other than in the seat of an airplane, or tucked on a bench using my camera bag as a pillow, but I soon realised that while making my bed, someone must have forgotten to throw a mattress into the mix.

It wasn’t bad as I make it sound, and I was soon lulled to sleep by the blaring music on the street, and the persistent honking just meters away from my window. I awoke suddenly when electricity was restored to my room and my light turned on. I was able to sleep for a few more hours despite the very vocal canines that wander the streets.