Internet at last.
Staying in a Rana palace here in Kathmandhu
Home to my wonderful friend SHERI.
First morning greeted by the appearance of a black eagle as
We had coffee on the terrace overlooking the gardens..
A real totem of what we have left behind in the states in our current political mess.
The terrace
Where I am told the house staff scrambled against the walls in panic
Attempting to get away from the earthquake that rolled and roiled thru Kathmandhu just a year ago.
Night before last a gathering of expats and quiet Nepalis to listen to meditative
Music ...two sitars ,a tabla and a mournful singer to commemorate the second quake may 12 2015.
A room full of quiet memories and the music doing the talking.
And then conversation with the women who have chosen the expat life..
Journalists, members of peace and justice and electioral remediation efforts
Who live in Delhi and visit for the weekend
Or Newfoundland and come to reconnect to medical missions
Or hail from The Netherlands and yet have lived here for almost thirty years doing freelance journalism
Or animal rescue education.and wonder now mid 50's at the next step.
The city has piles of bricks and workers replacing them
With little earthquake standard construction and so goes the cycle of
Ignorance. That is ignoring what is true for what is familiar.
A good reminder .
But then to do something simple like putting a brick back in place is heroic and real in a city where crossing the street is an act of derring do.
We have rested in luxury as we enter this adventure.
My friend Kate has joined me from LA and
We are letting the sights and sounds wash over us.
The driving is crazy and necessitates masks.
Today we visit markets in the city to do the tourists job
Of leaving our money behind.
And tomorrow massage and yoga
And Monday I take my first weaving lesson with the Sabah
Community here in Kathmandhu.
I am busy and in company..
So the ghosts of travels past stay at bay
Except in the early morning when the early pre cursor to monsoon rain
Pounds the roof and the mist in the garden conjures enemies.
Staying in a Rana palace here in Kathmandhu
Home to my wonderful friend SHERI.
First morning greeted by the appearance of a black eagle as
We had coffee on the terrace overlooking the gardens..
A real totem of what we have left behind in the states in our current political mess.
The terrace
Where I am told the house staff scrambled against the walls in panic
Attempting to get away from the earthquake that rolled and roiled thru Kathmandhu just a year ago.
Night before last a gathering of expats and quiet Nepalis to listen to meditative
Music ...two sitars ,a tabla and a mournful singer to commemorate the second quake may 12 2015.
A room full of quiet memories and the music doing the talking.
And then conversation with the women who have chosen the expat life..
Journalists, members of peace and justice and electioral remediation efforts
Who live in Delhi and visit for the weekend
Or Newfoundland and come to reconnect to medical missions
Or hail from The Netherlands and yet have lived here for almost thirty years doing freelance journalism
Or animal rescue education.and wonder now mid 50's at the next step.
The city has piles of bricks and workers replacing them
With little earthquake standard construction and so goes the cycle of
Ignorance. That is ignoring what is true for what is familiar.
A good reminder .
But then to do something simple like putting a brick back in place is heroic and real in a city where crossing the street is an act of derring do.
We have rested in luxury as we enter this adventure.
My friend Kate has joined me from LA and
We are letting the sights and sounds wash over us.
The driving is crazy and necessitates masks.
Today we visit markets in the city to do the tourists job
Of leaving our money behind.
And tomorrow massage and yoga
And Monday I take my first weaving lesson with the Sabah
Community here in Kathmandhu.
I am busy and in company..
So the ghosts of travels past stay at bay
Except in the early morning when the early pre cursor to monsoon rain
Pounds the roof and the mist in the garden conjures enemies.
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