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.