"Have you ever felt that you were living in a dream world?" This quote from the Matrix, and its subsequent implications, sum up about how I (Austin) feel in Nepal. Maybe the jet lag hasn't worn off after a week, or perhaps the microbes from the less than sanitary food have crept into my brain, but for now life feels like a dream. Probably the cause of my other world experience is the vast gap of culture and sensation here from anything we have seen. Colors and aromas overwhelm the senses; some houses are painted neon blue or green or orange; bright curry spices pop off the shelves of local shops; buses sport arrays of decoration and color in addition to figures of Hindu gods. The air is always dancing in one's nostrils, be it the sweet waft of spices, drawing the stomach out of its cavern, or the pungent aroma of cows and water buffalos, or the putrid puff of thick smoke from buses off the page of a Sunday cartoon. People wander through Kathmandu in plethora: short in height, mostly poor, and full of the most interesting facial shapes and expressions. Kindra and I feel like giants, as we take on new sensations every day, wondering when we will wake up. Tractors zoom by, women carry large buckets of fresh picked rice across their backs and strapped to their foreheads. Cars and motorcycles move like enormous, smogy ants though intersections, and crossing the street is an art form that seems like it could cost one his life. Where are we?
Our accommodation is a brand new trip experience as well: we are staying at a small church, with a Nepali mother and teenage son living here also and cooking delicious curries for dinner. They don't have much money or possessions; the refrigerator, computer, bookshelf or sofa are luxuries not present; we eat on the floor and waste not a grain of rice. Yet we are content, and so are they; Munna and her son Yabitz are like family to us already, and their simple, genuine, kind spirits provide more warmth to us than any community we have found thus far.
Every day varies but is full, perhaps we are attending a prayer meeting, or strolling along the local river to laugh as naked boys jump in deep pools next to lazy water buffalos. Or maybe I am helping the pastor of the church edit his newsletters so they appear 'more American.' Pastor Harun's story of becoming a Christian is moving: his family sold most of their possessions to heal their sick mom, trying every witch doctor and Hindi remedy they could get their hands on. Upon hearing of a passing evangelist in the neighborhood, they brought him to their house, and his prayers for her health released the healing other remedies couldn't. The family converted joyfully to Christianity, and the now pastor left behind a lucrative trekking business to spend his life's efforts bringing food, clean water and Jesus to impoverished regions of Nepal.
The passions of this church are not currently our focus on this more contemplative and adventure oriented journey we are on, but we feel like family here, and that is unusual for us to find such a place. So our dream world continues, in this exotic land of Nepal, maybe one day I will wake up, but for now, dreaming is enough.
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