Tuesday, January 12, 2010
the mountain mist
the rapidly rolling mist in the frigid annapurna valley vanishes as fast as it appears; all but a lingering gust that settles on a settlement. as the last of the day's rays pay homage to the highest land, the mystique of night punctually meets the mountain mist. together they abscond from the scene with the aid of twinkling accomplices to a mere state of mind.
strange asian fruit*
kathmandu trees bear a strange fruit
grime on the bark, piles at the root
black bags glistening in the hazy sun
strange fruit telling of what's become.
city scape of the bustling street
reflected in bags at passerby's feet.
vendors selling sweets that smell fantastic
then the sudden smell of burning plastic.
here is a fruit for the dogs to scower
for the rain to drain to pools of sour
for the dust to collect, for the leaves to mop
here is a strange and bitter crop.
*fashioned after the annonimously written poem "strage fruit" that billie holiday wrote music to and later became a jazz standard. i by no means wish to compare the two atrocities, i simply wish to make known the state of nature in the eyes of a stranger.
grime on the bark, piles at the root
black bags glistening in the hazy sun
strange fruit telling of what's become.
city scape of the bustling street
reflected in bags at passerby's feet.
vendors selling sweets that smell fantastic
then the sudden smell of burning plastic.
here is a fruit for the dogs to scower
for the rain to drain to pools of sour
for the dust to collect, for the leaves to mop
here is a strange and bitter crop.
*fashioned after the annonimously written poem "strage fruit" that billie holiday wrote music to and later became a jazz standard. i by no means wish to compare the two atrocities, i simply wish to make known the state of nature in the eyes of a stranger.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
where the streets have no name
after a day of scrambling through the loud, wet, littered, busy streets the tourista feeling was setting in and i was getting cranky. i felt like i couldn't escape the stigma of being a walking wallet. after being pressured to drop a significant amount of money in 20 minutes time, i had had enough. i skulked back to vicinity of the hotel as i was not yet adventurous enough to negotiate the nameless streets.
my attitude changed when i met up with my two new friends to join Dev's family for dinner as a goodbye for our friend. half way through the jaunt, all lights went out. the further we walked, the more people appeared as we got closer. bonfires illuminated groups and cell phones gave the illusion of disembodied, floating heads. the butchershops proudly displayed their cuts by candle light as the live goats pleaded outside. from the darkness came ominous children's voices who's bodies became barely outlined in the smokey alleyways. conversation between the three of us halted as we took sight of the first full moon of 2010. the black out afforded us a couple more stars -a fair exchange for our temporary blindness.
we made it to his apartment, an almost american styled building, and in minutes tea warmed our hands and insides while his four year old daughter entertained us. Pia, having volunteered in the village Dev grew up in, noted the generational and cultural shifts between village and city, Dev and his daughter. dinner was served shortly thereafter by his beautiful wife. it was an extraordinary (well, ordinary for nepalis) meal consisting of dal, rice, curries and fresh veggies. both Dev and his wife were delighted when i abandoned my spoon to try out the traditional way of eating. it felt wonderful to indulge another sense taking the meal to the next level. we parted ways with Dev at the first sign of a landmark that we knew and together we tackled the loud streets of thamel.
my attitude changed when i met up with my two new friends to join Dev's family for dinner as a goodbye for our friend. half way through the jaunt, all lights went out. the further we walked, the more people appeared as we got closer. bonfires illuminated groups and cell phones gave the illusion of disembodied, floating heads. the butchershops proudly displayed their cuts by candle light as the live goats pleaded outside. from the darkness came ominous children's voices who's bodies became barely outlined in the smokey alleyways. conversation between the three of us halted as we took sight of the first full moon of 2010. the black out afforded us a couple more stars -a fair exchange for our temporary blindness.
we made it to his apartment, an almost american styled building, and in minutes tea warmed our hands and insides while his four year old daughter entertained us. Pia, having volunteered in the village Dev grew up in, noted the generational and cultural shifts between village and city, Dev and his daughter. dinner was served shortly thereafter by his beautiful wife. it was an extraordinary (well, ordinary for nepalis) meal consisting of dal, rice, curries and fresh veggies. both Dev and his wife were delighted when i abandoned my spoon to try out the traditional way of eating. it felt wonderful to indulge another sense taking the meal to the next level. we parted ways with Dev at the first sign of a landmark that we knew and together we tackled the loud streets of thamel.
how do you kathmandu?
throwing caution, and sleep, to the cold kathmandu wind i accepted an invitation to join a few people for new years celebrations just minutes after arrival. i did my best to keep up with Dev, the hotel agent who invited me, as he weaved through the intricate patterns of irrational traffic. he took me to his travel agency -ay, there's the rub- where the others were to meet us. he quickly disappeared and so i rifled through pages of pictures showcasing nepal's greatest beauty. dev reappeared with two cups of nepali masala tea. it had to be the most divine treat at that moment, for the lack of heat and hydration from the flying (not to mention my cold shower) was stealing my concentration.
to my delight, the others showed up and we got to talking. one woman, a fellow solo traveler, was just finishing her two month stay in nepal. she shared some of her experiences with us and patiently answered my earnest questions. the other two girls, a mother-daughter team from switzerland stayed quiet and polite until they excused themselves. left to our own devices, the three of us followed Dev once more to a local restaurant. we indulged in the spices, colours and smells of beautiful nepali curries as i coyly soaked up as much information as possible.
later, just us girls went out among the town to celebrate the surprisingly huge western new years. we spent the countdown hopping to bad hindi pop and avoiding vomit and motorbikes on the walk home. i went back to my luxurious single room (with my very own bathroom too) and resorted to sensory deprivation to calm my nerves after the overload that is kathmandu. bach lulled me to sleep after douglas adams inspired the last two chuckles of the night.
to my delight, the others showed up and we got to talking. one woman, a fellow solo traveler, was just finishing her two month stay in nepal. she shared some of her experiences with us and patiently answered my earnest questions. the other two girls, a mother-daughter team from switzerland stayed quiet and polite until they excused themselves. left to our own devices, the three of us followed Dev once more to a local restaurant. we indulged in the spices, colours and smells of beautiful nepali curries as i coyly soaked up as much information as possible.
later, just us girls went out among the town to celebrate the surprisingly huge western new years. we spent the countdown hopping to bad hindi pop and avoiding vomit and motorbikes on the walk home. i went back to my luxurious single room (with my very own bathroom too) and resorted to sensory deprivation to calm my nerves after the overload that is kathmandu. bach lulled me to sleep after douglas adams inspired the last two chuckles of the night.
Friday, January 1, 2010
it caught up with me...
...the transience like the winter i had been evading for the last two months. a new chapter, an old feeling and an unknown experience awaits me. this i know. what i don't know is how this experience will shape the others, what brought me here, what stays here. this place in between the ebb of the mediterranean and the flow of tel avivian traffic poignantly describes my position. as i loose myself in the ominous hovering light from the ceaseless arrivals of airplanes, i am reminded of my imminent departure. until then, the serendipitous hellos and ambiguous goodbyes will bide my time.
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