Eating right handed is easy enough to get used to.
Sometimes I'm caught with a piece of goat or forget as I tear the
chapati – people let me off i think. If not given a spoon out of sympathy, I practice the art of eating by hand,
but my smearing action is still a long way from the deft flick off
the tips of the fingers, so I've still got half a plate when everyone
else is finished. I checked, and it's okay to use a spoon with the
left hand.
Go to the toilet with your left – but it seems rude to ask for tips on that one. Right hand propped against the wall seems comfortable, but what's the right way? And how do old people get anywhere close...??
Dal baht lunch is at ten in the morning, no breakfast, dal baht (again) at seven and bed by nine. Starting to adjust to the daily rhythm of eating and sleeping. Mountains of rice and endless refills of potato curry and of course dal dal dal. For small people, Nepalis can eat.
The aperitif in the evening is the finest tumba millet beer or roxy rice wine available and some chilli goat tapas – or just chilli. Once, and too late to protest, the meat turned out to be buffalo brain and testicle stew. One is surprisingly soft, the other surprisingly chewy.
You'd think that a lifetime of walking would leave you pretty competent. But slipping and sliding down the mountainside at night after a field visit, I looked up to see my colleague Surendra busy texting as he sauntered ahead using the light on his phone to show the way. I realised I was still just a beginner.
Sitting on the roof of a bus or in a
pick up with twenty-six people and three kayaks, sometimes you have
to get around however you can. But to get around anywhere the “king of the road is still an old series 3 land rover that has been bent and welded
together more times than it's been dented. It's even older than me...
Rickshaws are the best though – especially when you get caught going the wrong way down a one way street. The fine? Ten squats – holding the earlobes.
I've been doing lots of things differently. Thought I'd better write them down before they become second (or maybe just third) nature.
Go to the toilet with your left – but it seems rude to ask for tips on that one. Right hand propped against the wall seems comfortable, but what's the right way? And how do old people get anywhere close...??
Dal baht lunch is at ten in the morning, no breakfast, dal baht (again) at seven and bed by nine. Starting to adjust to the daily rhythm of eating and sleeping. Mountains of rice and endless refills of potato curry and of course dal dal dal. For small people, Nepalis can eat.
The aperitif in the evening is the finest tumba millet beer or roxy rice wine available and some chilli goat tapas – or just chilli. Once, and too late to protest, the meat turned out to be buffalo brain and testicle stew. One is surprisingly soft, the other surprisingly chewy.
You'd think that a lifetime of walking would leave you pretty competent. But slipping and sliding down the mountainside at night after a field visit, I looked up to see my colleague Surendra busy texting as he sauntered ahead using the light on his phone to show the way. I realised I was still just a beginner.
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| Luckily all vehicles were blessed before Dashain to make sure the passengers are safe. |
Rickshaws are the best though – especially when you get caught going the wrong way down a one way street. The fine? Ten squats – holding the earlobes.
I've been doing lots of things differently. Thought I'd better write them down before they become second (or maybe just third) nature.
Thanks for sharing (most of it, anyway)!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing (most of it, anyway)!
ReplyDelete