There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first is excellent, the second good, and the third useless.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Nepal - Day 5

It’s Monday right? I don’t know. I have a copy of the Himalayan times delivered to my door every morning so I really should be more aware of important things like the date. Ate breakfast late today because the copious amounts of beer I drank last night have hit me really hard, that and having to get up and eat curry for breakfast with your fingers… dodgy stomach later me thinks.

I made a trip back to Durbar square today because the Namaste (hello) cyber café is smack bang in the middle of it, flanked by a series of pagodas and a very high ranking school. I hoped to get on line and check my email but seriously, the connection was so slow I thought it would be easier to send any messages to England via carrier pigeon.

I spent some time on my own today while Jo went off shopping for big knifes, he always buys a big knife, his house is full of them. Anyway I was sat on a bench in the square, enjoying the peace when I noticed there was a young girl in dirty clothes and carrying an umbrella stood opposite me, staring at me for some reason. After a few minutes she came over and sat down next to me. To my surprise she introduced herself in very good English and preceded to ask me if I was Australian ( a lot of Nepalese people seem to get my accent confused with Australian for some reason) after much persuasion I eventually convinced her I was English and she started talking about my house. Eventually I pulled out my much loved and abused lonely planet guide to Nepal and showed her some pictures. She joyfully pointed out where she had been and indicated some places she hadn’t been but would really like to ‘witness’. She was poor, that much was obvious, but she was clever, damned clever and couldn’t have been any more than fourteen maybe? In the end I bought her an aero for 45 rupees (around 33 pence) and went on my way, but not before she’d managed to take off her bracelet and force it into my hand. Sweet.

Odd that it’s an astamangala bracelet.


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