Hallelujah!

Look what we found. Rocks!

And I'm going to climb them. I have a helmet!

Even pregnant ladies climb.


And that's all I've got for now. More updates coming soon.

What?

(Already posted this pic on Facebook, but not all are on it and it's worth sharing.) Having trouble massaging your baby with conventional charcoal briquettes? Your troubles are over! Try Himalayan Briquette. It won't singe your baby's delicate skin like Kingsford or leave that hard to clean soot like Royal Oak. Our briquettes are even great for cooking and heating...and they're so quiet. So use Himalayan Briquette for all your massaging needs. Your baby will thank you for it.

We have a lot of cheez whiz

A lot has been happening since the last post. Last week our HHE, or Household Effects (i.e. all our junk) arrived. As many of our friends and family know, we pride ourselves on being "stuffless" people. We have assiduously worked to not acquire stuff, or "cheez whiz" as it's called in Nepali. (No joke.) We never went to Wal-Mart or shopped on-line. We didn't let our very generous families shower us with gifts at Hanumas (Christmas + Hanukkah, duh). To "stage" our RI house for the market, our real estate agent made us go shopping for decorations. Basically if it wasn't camping, hiking or climbing gear, we didn't want it. As such, we have largely been successful in our minimalist attempts. But then we joined the Foreign Service and became BJ's Wholesale Club members. Now we have over 200 pounds of cat litter and 3,000 Q-Tips. You could feed a small Nepali village (or one Yeti) with the "Double Value Pack" boxes of Honeynut Cheerios we bought. And I doubt we'll run out of French's mustard in the next two years. Previously we thought our new apartment was too big for us. Now we realize that it lacks closets, a basement and a garage. I guess we could cram some of it into our Taj Majal-like master bedroom, but then that would ruin the view from one of our 6 floor-to-ceiling windows (pictured below...most of it). With all this stuff to do, I better get back to it. Tune in next time when I blog about, well, whatever pops into my head.

Reach out and touch someone.

One of the obvious drawbacks of this career is not seeing family and friends as often as you'd like. Fortunately, with advances in technology, communication has gotten a lot easier and cheaper. In fact, a call from my cell in Nepal to the States only costs about 3 cents a minute. Quite a deal.

Last night I called two of my nieces to wish them happy birthdays, since they were both born in mid-November. Speaking with them is always a joyful and enlightening experience. They're each hilarious in their own unique ways. Here is an excerpt from our conversations. Their words are paraphrased, but you'll get the gist of their distinct personalities.

Younger Niece (YN), Aged 7
Me: Hey kiddo. Happy birthday.
YN: Thanks Uncle Beef. I got a wrecking ball.
Me: What?
YN: I got a wrecking ball!!
Me: You are a wrecking ball.
YN: NO! I got a wrecking ball!
Me: Oh. My mistake. What will you do with your wrecking ball?
YN: I'll destroy stuff.
Me: Naturally.
YN: You should talk to my sister now. She'srighthereloveyoubye!

Older Niece (ON), Aged 10
Me: Happy Birthday!
ON: Thanks. So how do you like being a diplomat?
Me: It's pretty great. But sometimes it's kind of sad denying people entry to the U.S.
ON: Do you have to deny them for medical reasons like they did at Ellis Island?
Me: (Pause..."I didn't know that," I think.) Umm, yeah, actually sometimes we can't let people in because they have infectious diseases.
ON: But doesn't that increase the disease in their own country?
Me: (Err..."Kid's got a point," I think.) Perhaps, but that's why we use the US Agency for International Development and the Center for Disease Control to help them fight those diseases.
ON: Then that also benefits America because there are fewer sick people in the world and less unrest.
Me: I know some presidential debates you would probably win right about now.
ON: What?
Me: Never mind.

Looking forward to more deep and/or destructive conversations in the future.

Halloween in Nepal

Halloween doesn't actually exist in Nepal. But Americans (and many other nationalities) like eating candy and dressing up, so numerous parties took place anyway. Some of our friends threw a huge bash at their place. There was a full bar, bartender, sound system, dance floor in the car port, smoke machine and green laser lights. And a bunch of adults in great get ups dancing until 2:30 in the morning.

The majority of our stuff still hasn't arrived, so we didn't have much lying around to create costumes. But we made do with what we had. Guess what we were. I even had a rope in my back pack and kept Elyse "on belay" the entire time. I think we tripped a few folks, but they thought it was a great costume anyway. We, on the other hand, thought it felt like a typical Saturday.

I can't drive, 55!!!

Seriously, the traffic is so bad I can't even drive 25. You wouldn't like it here Sammy (Hagar, not my sis.) But who cares...we've got wheels. After a month of walking, taking taxis, and bumming rides, we are free to take our lives into our own hands like everyone else. Check out our sweet ride (pictured). It's a beast, but I like it. A vehicle this size has distinct pros and cons for life in Kathmandu and Nepal. Let's review a few:

Pros:
- The rumbling diesel powered 4.2 liter V6 engine makes me feel I can run over anything.
- I can give 7 of my closest friends, or one Yeti, a lift in comfort.
- The tiny cars and swarming motorcycles seem to be afraid of my girth. Or perhaps it's that I sometimes forget we drive on the left here.

Cons:
- The rumbling diesel powered 4.2 liter V6 engine makes me feel I can run over anything.
- Gas mileage leaves something to be desired. I think posting a picture of it burned some fuel.
- It's a tad wide for Kathmandu's narrow streets. Fortunately, with the push of a button the side mirrors automatically collapse. (Sometimes this is actually necessary.)

Driving any car here, no matter the size, presents new challenges. Driving on the left is obvious. And there are dogs and holy cows and pedestrians who march heedlessly across the street while employing the "hand of power" ordering you to stop. Also, a turn signal can mean either "I'm turning that way" or "Please go around me that way." Finally, operating a stick-shift with the left-hand but depressing standard pedals is a bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach. But all of this is another reason we like this car: its safety features. Plus, at 5-10 miles per hour, most things will just bounce off. As the bigger car and foreign driver, apparently I'm at fault no matter what. So watch out Kathmandu; I've got an old beat up Toyota Land Cruiser and I'm not afraid to use it.