not all who wander are lost.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Rhythm.


Obviously I have yet to find my rhythm. And I've discovered that the rhythm only comes once I've figured out my purpose. So: what's my purpose? This is the dilemma. In Sri Lanka it was "surf", in India it was "yoga". Everywhere there has been prayer, food, and community. But now I'm just not sure what the hell I'm doing, what I want to achieve or even internally what it is that needs some attention. What I do know is that Pokhara has it all: whether you want to party your face off, pray until the cows come home, or climb to the top of Mount Everest. So maybe instead of having a "plan" I just go with it and do a bit of everything. It'll be challenging because I find comfort in a routine, but maybe my routine will just have to be where I have my meals. After covering most of Lakeside, Pokhara on foot yesterday I have sussed out the restaurant situation. (I know that it seems crazy that this is my first move once I arrive in a town, but even though I love travel, I love family even more so this is my one "familiar" bit that makes me feel at home). I walked in and checked out the menu at a million places, but more than that I was feeling out the energy. I decided upon a little hole in the wall for most of my meals- it's run by a super sweet Nepali family, the menu is 1/4 the price of all the touristy places in town, there are terrible Hindi films blasting through the television and it's dancing that borderline between clean and dirty that I love. I also found a spot that charges 40rs for momos (that's ALL they sell), which is 100rs cheaper than what they charge in town and even 20rs cheaper than my cheap local place. And now I found my morning chai spot. It's right on the lake, and it found me as I was strolling through the rising sun. I (literally) bumped into the cutest little old round Nepali lady as I was walking along the path parallel the river. She had her sari on, her bindi, all her bangles, and she looked up to me with the largest, most delightful toothless smile, her eyes twinkling with a bit of magic. So we walked hand in hand, and I pretty much followed her into her home. Her son has a little restaurant on the lake so here I sit, sipping my chai. Mama (that's what we will call her for now) pleased me as she did the morning prayer- burning incense around me, mumbling a prayer, touching my head and then putting some orange and red powder in my hair and on my hairline. And so my adventures in Nepal begin...




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