Waiting…

So how is my fieldwork and data collection coming along? Well, it isn’t… I’m waiting, sort of on stand-by, ready to leave for Okhaldhunga as soon as I can. First I was sick, then the hospital director at Okhaldhunga Community Hospital isn’t currently in Okhaldhunga, and he is my contact person. My only contact person there. So now we wait… I do have some good news though, I have finally acquired a length board, yay! Also, I still don’t have cholera even though the newspaper said 3 days ago that the outbreak had now spread to my neighborhood. Thrilled to not have cholera! (Doing my best to focus on the positive…)

Finding yourself in a new setting sometimes make you see things from a different perspective and ask yourself new questions. I have asked questions I have never asked before. Like is it a good thing to have a gecko in your closet? Does it eat spiders? Will it leave gecko-poo all over my clothes? I have never previously considered the diet or the digestive functions of geckos… My conclusion: The gecko can stay. I really do hate spiders… I am also considering my relationship to time. Should I care less about time or should I take greater care not to waste it? Probably both. I should probably care less about time as something that is running out and something that is working against me, and take more care not to waste the moments that make up time. Since I can’t really do anything about this waiting situation I am currently in, I’ve decided not to be stressed about it, and just go with whatever happens.

So, for now, I’ll just stay here I Kathmandu and continue my new little life here. Getting by in Kathmandu is easy as most people speak English fairly well. I love meeting the schoolchildren on their way home, they are simply adorable and often make use of the chance to talk to a foreigner and the standard is “Hello, how are you?” and then sometimes the follow-up “I’m fine, where do you live?” Then they giggle and move on. One day I walked through a different neighborhood than I usually do and it was right around the time school finishes. A 9-10 year old girl in a school uniform starts to speak and I expect the usual, but out comes “Hello sugarbaby, you beautiful girl”. Well, that was new. She must be learning her English from quite a different source than the majority of the kids… But hey, I don’t get called beautiful that often, and, nearing 40, I don’t get referred to as a girl very often either.

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