Shechen Lamas Got Big Ups

I went to see cham, so-called "lama dancing" at Shechen monastery yesterday. It's to avery obstacles for the Tibetan New Year which is Tuesday. I don't know much about cham, so I've included a lot of pictures. It's involves a lot of leaping and takes hours.








Crane style. People whistled like mad when this group of four dancers came out. Why, no one I asked has any idea, even T.J. and that boy knows. I thought it was because two of the dancers have bird masks. Tibetan ritual is rock sometimes, to quote T.J.









These guys are skeletons. And got bounce. Big ups in Boudha.


















My new Tibetan posse. You know how we roll, Tibetan butter tea in our 40s, slangin' tsampa. Chang for our dead homies. Chubas over our unlaced blackmarket Nikes.


















Me. Notice that Beard Experiment 2006 is nicely underway and past the itching stage. Sporting that 'Horns cap because my hair's a mess. I'm scared of going to a barber here due to the last haircut.

The subtropical sun was quite bright yesterday, and this was a large concrete courtyard so everything looks bleached. And nicely reveals my photographic incompetence.




Thug life, Tibetan style. You best step.

Leechcraft on the Edge of Tibet - Part 1

Those of you that know me well know that I’m not a thrill-seeking guy. My thrills often come intellectually, not adrenally, and even those over the years have been muted somewhat as I’ve gotten even more conservative in my choice of academic delights. Nonetheless, this past year I’ve gone white-water rafting in the U.S. twice before coming to Nepal.

The first trip, my first time white-water rafting, was in early May in eastern Massachusetts. I signed up for the trip through the Graduate Student Council at Harvard several weeks in advance, thinking that surely by early May it will be warmer. This, sadly, was not the case. Spring in MA often comes with April showers which bring May showers. Flowers we get, but this past year spring was marred by persistant rain for something like eight weekends in a row.

Temperatures in the low 50s with a persistant drizzle is not my idea of a good time. I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so cold in my life, even with a Farmer John wetsuit, a waterproof windbreaker, and booties. Add approximately 100 middle school kids on a trip in the surrounding rafts and an extremely slow agonizing 3 hour trip, and you can imagine how my discomfort grew expontientally. However, my raftmates, all grad students from Harvard, and the guide, an older gentleman from England, made this foot-numbing trip as pleasant as possible. It is ironic that all the people in my raft were all from hot-weather climes: Israel, New Delhi, Texas, and Los Angeles. This trip was mainly class II rapids with one class IV rapid right before lunch. This was the highlight of the trip, and the rafting company took pictures of us going through this. Needless to say, after lunch, despite consuming four cups of coffee, I had no desire to get back into the raft since all we had to look forward to was piddly dinky little rapids.

My second trip was in early June with my sister and a group from her theatrical company in Knoxville. Theater people are lovely, especially those from Tennessee, if somewhat tiring with all that drama, armwaving, and excessive emoting. I love the South, especially since I have spent the past four years in the Northeast. I love the gentility, the friendliness, the “those damn Yankees” attitude which I increasingly share. Of course, these benefits mask horrific spectres such as rampant racism, profound ignorance, and poor taste in sports, such as NASCAR, baffling to me because it consists solely of a left turn for several hours. Even so, these things are endemic to American life as a whole, so you might as well enjoy pleasant weather and the occasional nip of moonshine. Even the humidity is different in the South from Boston, a soft kiss as you slowly sweat, and Knoxville felt like home to me.

I was paired off in the front of the raft with my sister, and we had a great time, especially since it wasn’t raining, and the temperature was in the balmy 80s. Add to this a nice set of Class IV rapids and this was a much more exciting trip than my first time out rafting.

Papa's Gotta Brand New Bag

Check out my new Tibetan man-bag made by Tshering Pasang, a Dol-po-pa. It was my Christmas present to myself, a little expensive since I hate bargaining. Especially when the maker lives in a single room with his entire family. Best part of me trying to explain pathetically in Tibetan what I wanted was when I asked him when will it be finished. He replied, "Happy New Year's rje la". rje la (which is pronounced jay la) is a postposition meaning after, so this literally means after Happy New Year's. I was amused that Tshering-la had picked up the English phrase. Best part of the bag is the button that holds it closed. It's a small bell made of brass, Tshering was bemused when I asked for it, and now I tinkle when I walk (avoid making the obvious joke, please).

New and Cool in the 'hood

kurta with jeans, three-legged dogs, chubas for the little old Tibetan ladies, winter valley air inverted with claws, om mani peme hum, blatant staring, endless cricket games in the dead dog field, public urination for men AND women, pressure cooker bombs, obscured Himalayan skyline, porn on burned CD-ROMS peddled on the street by guys whispering "sexy, sexy", a curious subcontinental predilection for "Mein Kampf" sold on street corners, the gorgeous results of long-isolated population groups procreating together, and the late afternoon circumambulation of one of the largest Buddhist monuments in the world.

Mighty Mickey Mao Redux

And so it goes. Recent news reveals that the Maoists have called for an indefinite bandha (that's general strike enforced through terror by the Maoists) starting in early April. There will also be blockades of the roads into KTM and all the major cities in Nepal.

So, what’s the latest in the ‘Du? Things are quiet, or perhaps it’s that I just can’t bear to read both English dailies everyday. I check my google.news for the headlines, but I’ve been busy writing grant proposals (always secure funding, 1st rule of grad school) and other more pleasant distractions. As long as I’m not having my epidermis sanded off, almost anything is more pleasant than writing grant proposals. You’d think I’d be used to them now, but noooooo. If you’ve read the business proposal section in the Cryptonomicron, it’s just like that, except I don’t get as much start-up money.

We’re currently in the midst of the longest ever recorded drought in KTM Valley history (4 1/2 months). Hopefully, the monsoon will come early and profusely. Farmers are suffering, and that means famine in certain districts. I don’t know what the status is for the indefinite bandh and blockades of all major cities starting April 3th.

US Ambassdor Moriarty was all over the papers today. Headline in the Nepali Times, the well-written weekly of the Himalayan Times, above a sinister looking picture of His Excellency, is “Professor Moriarty strikes again.” Ah, what a pleasure to have actual literary allusions in print media. Apparently the Ambassador will be on Kantipur TV twice next week to talk about what the US wants, now that it appears that the US has thrown its support back behind the King. He did meet with some of the seven major political party leaders, but the gist of the meeting was to suggest that the twelve-point agreement with the Maoists is a big mistake. I admit, I can’t force myself to keep track, really, now that I’m out of the habit of reading both dailies cover to cover. I got out of the habit when I had what I like to call obstreperous throat. I know some of the major actors, but I’d need a scorecard anyway. Who’s in jail, who’s under house arrest, who leads what party. With seven major political parties, I hope no one blames me for not being exactly up on who’s who.

However, do check out www.samudaya.org. It’s a forum by expat Nepalis to spread awareness for democracy, pluralism and free press, according to the article in this week’s Nepali Times. It’s blocked in Nepal by the government, but there is a mirror-site at www.everybodybreed.com (strange choice, that). Who knows how long that’ll be accessible here in Nepal. I’ll have a gander today. They’ve also started Creative Dissent Nepal, “a movement of people wokring towards supporting and promoting democratic ideals through participatory, creative, and non-violent activism.” All Americans, take note. You might want to take notes on this stuff, given the recent appointment to the Supreme Court.

It’s for keeps here in Nepal, folks. Massive human right violations, google Nepal human right violations and UN report. Violence can be casual and brutal, and facing a lathi (a bamboo staff) charge by the police or military police here is no laughing matter. During the protests leading up to the sham elections on February 8th, the cops brought their own truckloads of brickbats (brick shards) to protests to throw at protestors, who, of course, were doing the same.

Pay close attention, Americans. ‘Course, we don’t roll like that in ‘Merica, we’d bring our gatts, and bloodbaths would ensue. Sorry folks, but it’s true. Civil war in America would, has already been once, hideous. Let’s not let it come to that, shall we? Vote in this election in November, and throw out the party in power in at least the Senate or the House. Get at least a deadlock in the government, hopefully to begin impeachment hearing. What’s some admittedly ethical dubious sexual misconduct to outright lies that lead to a war that has caused thousands of American deaths and many, many more wounded people. The Imperial Presidency has gone way way way too far, and now with the Judiciary swinging hard to the right, things are about to get worse.

Lessons could be learned from Nepalis. I cower out here in Boudha, while folks are out laying their asses on the line during protests. I feel guilty ‘bout this, but I’m not a Nepali, nor a U.N. human rights observer, nor a journalist, and I like to keep my skull intact, thank you. Leigh and Jason got caught in a protest, and Leigh was fortunate to get away with only getting her camera broken.

Rant over.

My New Favorite Drink That I Invented

A Post-Castro Cuba Libre:
Start with 3 fingers of white rum in a chilled glass, preferably Cruzan Estate Light Rum cuz it's cheap in the islands and tasty. Reminds me of my time in the BVI and the USVI. Stay far away from those tropical flavored rums, a travesty like flavored coffee, unless it's an Irish coffee on a chilly San Francisco night. Add plain soda or a sugar-free lime or lemon soda. Squeeze 'bout an 1/2 ounce of lime or lemon juice respectively. Toast the inevitable absorpton by global capitalism of a lamented worker's paradise of your choice.

Mighty Mickey Mao

Well, it's with great relief and a slight reduction of my constant low-level annoyance that my pre-paid cell phone is now working. Give me a tinkle sometime. I wasn't sure how the cessation of service protected the security of the Nepal dictatorship, but there you go. Uh oh, I dropped the D bomb.

Things are quiet here in the Valley. There has been the occasional bomb, some of which were defused. A few exploded up in Jorpati up the main road a bit from Bouddha at a go-down or warehouse of some sort. One in Ratni Park that was placed in a bin (or garbage can if you prefer).

Outside the valley there was a significant attack (at least in my opinion) in Tansen. Who knows what goes on out in the countryside. I read the newspapers everyday but it's hard to get a sense of what's going on outside the valley since I've just gone once up the Arniko Highway to the Tibetan border.

There has been a call by Prachanda, the supreme leader of the Maoists to form an alternative government along with the seven major political parties. They go by one name, like Prince or Madonna cuz apparently it's good PR and psychwar tactics, as if to say I'm such a badass that I no longer require my last name. The US ambassador strongly warned against this yesterday in a statement, but what are folks supposed to do?

Sham elections (massive armored personal carriers parked outside polling centers?!?!), draconian control against any sort of significant protest, and a complete and total lack of real democracy really do limit the masses' options. I'm open to suggestions. How 'bout denying visas to all Nepali govermental officials and freezing their accounts in the US? How 'bout the US not training a Ranger force for the Nepali government. Ah, but Nepal has become a small pawn in the new Great Game between India, China, and the US, with a rapidly ascendant PRC providing an alternative to Nepal's traditional partner (some would say master) India. So has Pakistan, just to goose India, despite their good relations.

Look, no one has a problem with a constitutional monarchy. Lots of Northern European nations get along just fine with them, provided that the post is largely ceremonial. The king and the royal family could do a lot of good if they wielded the royal mana in a righteous way. They could become cultural ambassadors to the world for Nepal. People love Nepal, have for years, and probably will for a long time to come. Nepalis are lovely people, there are a ton of other ethnic groups around, incredibly scenery, and a large expat Tibetan population that has the ability, the means, and infrastructure to draw the curious and practicing Western Buddhists. Going out into the world as benevolent ambassadors would inhance these images. We'll discuss later some of the orientalizing aspects to them, but still... you do need revenue.

Meanwhile, the infrastructure, such as it is, decays. 17 hours a week of power cuts due to low water level in the hydroelectrical reservoirs. Last summer's monsoon was weak, but there has been no new power plant construction in years due to... you guess it, the insurgency. Hydropower could be a major Nepali industry with exports to India, despite the inevitable enviromental damage. There are massive dropoffs in tourist arrivals and hence tourist dollars, pounds, and Euros. I'd hate for my country or state or town or whatever to be dependent on tourism (right, Shawn? how 'bout New Orleans, corruption, and murder even before Kate the Shrew stomped on NO?), but there are really no other alternatives.

Well, to reiterate: things are quiet out here in Boudha. I suspect though, that the Maoists will step up their attacks since security has gradually loosen in the Valley. I wouldn't've attacked during the elections, the curfews, and on the anniversary of the beginning of the insurgency. I'd wait 'til after, to lull the government into complacency.

Meanwhile, I'm off for my daily Tibetan lesson with Dawa. I'll try and upload some new photos later.

Top 10 Things in 2005

Let's just say that since the Great Anthropological Experiment of 2006 (GAE 2006) failed miserably, I've branched out into other venues. I've had a lot of downtime as I waited for my throat to quit oozing pus and barking at me. Now, since that reference to GAE 2006 was cryptic enough, onto the show.

1) Passing my qualifying exams. It's all a blur, I swear. A hot muggy September day in a typical stale air Harvard room and lots of cold sweat.

2) Getting my dissertation proposal approved. Thank you, Fulbright-Hays for making do this already pretty much. I've have to lump receiving the Fulbright under this heading since it completely slipped my mind while composing this at home, although that other grant I received made me reconsider coming to KTM. Praise Allah I came to my senses and took less money but did the 'Du.

3) Seeing Gang of Four at tha Avalon with my friend Yammo sometime in the spring. Old-school post-punk at its finest. Eat that, the Liars and Bloc Party. I've never seen so many old hipsters in years. Damn, that describes me.

4) Tihar in Nepal. I love Tihar, hopefully my birth mom, Pamela, will visit next fall during it. A five day festival with kukkaripuja, which is the worship of dogs who receive tikas and marigold malas, and ends with bhaipuja in which sisters garland and tika their brothers who give them money in return. Somewhere in the middle is Lakshmipuja, when people draw red lines leading into doorways to invite the goddess of wealth into their homes and businesses. Much less gruesome and tense than Dasain and Kalipuja, which involves copious animal sacrifices, blaring music on those distorted developing country sound systems to all hours of the night, and an undercurrent of violence itching to explode.

5) Christmas 2004 with my birth mother in Berkeley. Close enough to 2005 for government business. We ate tons of Alaskan crab, divine cookies from the Cheeseboard, went for a long walk at Point Reyes on Christmas Day, and generally just got to spend our first major holiday together.

6) Narrowly avoiding Hurricane Rita in Beaumont by two days. If I hadn’t left when I did, I wouldn’t gotten out for months. Thanks for the great visit, Dad and Kathy, but whew.

7) Thanksgiving dinner with the US Ambassador, his equally accomplished and gracious wife, cornbread dressing(!), and a surgical strike team of servants who got me tipsy through no apparent effort on my part. This rolled on into a night of pub crawling through Thamel with T.J. to an ungodly hour of the morning. Male bonding at its best. Many Cuba Librés consumed.

8) Dinner after passing my exams with Yammo at the best Middle Eastern restaurant I’ve ever eaten out somewhere in Cambridge, Argana. It was spectacular, all the usual dishes you might expect, but what a difference due to I don’t know what (and it couldn’t have been the mojitos). It might have been the best meal I’ve ever had. This wasn't just due to my relief, right, Amzig?

9) A two day rafting trip s on the Bhote Kosi near the Tibetan border. Set after long set of insane Class V+ rapids just post-monsoon straight off the glacier in Tibet. Day one is pleasant and fun, below the first dam on Bhote Kosi with tons of Class III and IV rapids. Day two begins approximately 5 klicks from Tibet with beautiful scenery, but terrifying rafting. I suspect it was because the guide, Som, probably weighed all of 120 lbs soaking wet and due to his limited mass, couldn’t steer the raft. When I belatedly realized that he too was terrified by the hysterical tone of his voice, it added that special frisson of sheer cold animal fear to freezing milky green glacial water, massive rocks, and substandard equipment. The best part was when the guide fell out of the boat (and stayed out) at the beginning of a set of class V+ rapids, thus leaving us to go down the wrong chute without anyone to steer the raft. All in all one of the most exhilarating experiences that I’ll never repeat in my life, especially since I have subsequently heard about the rafting fatalities (notice the plural) in a Nepali friend’s family.

10) Summertime in Knoxville TN. I didn’t get to enjoy it as much as I could’ve due to the massive anxiety concomitant with my impending exams, but I sure did enjoy being back in the South for a summer. Lovely moderate weather, especially compared to Texas, mountains, rafting, sweet Southern drawls, an excellent coffeehouse with free wi-fi, slit-eyed groundhogs in the kudzu, a decent university library, and a satisfying chunk of time with my sister and mother. Didn’t make it to Dollywood though, more’s the pity.

Four Things. Part II

I promised you a rose garden, not brevity.

4 TV Shows

1) The West Wing

Tivolike capabilties at my mother’s house this past summer has allowed me to almost complete seeing all episodes of this, except for the most recent and final season since I’m obviously in Nepal. Great ensemble acting that acutely satisfies my wish-fulfillment regarding the 2000 Presidential Election while I regretfully reside in a State of Denial.

2) Gilmore Girls

I know, I know, I’ve openly emasculated myself. Mea culpa. However, smart, sharp, and rapid dialogue laden with literary and gratititious pop culture references, Alexis Bledel’s otherworldly eyes, small-town New England weirdness, and a shoutout to Third Uncle Brian Eno in a cubicle farm has won my heart. I don’t care what you think.

3) Battlestar Galactica
This is it, serious smart sci-fi that’s also probably the best drama on TV. Deliberate documentary-like shaky handheld cinematography, minimal breathless background music, claustrophobic shipboard sets, and the deepest, darkest sci-fi TV show since Babylon Five (until that stinker of a last season). I hope they haven’t blown all of their intellectual capital on the first two seasons. They’re not Cylons, they’re really Mormons! I’d kill (ok, maim) to have a glance at the series’ bible.

4) After that, I’m stumped.
There was nothing else I regularly watched for the past few years ‘cept Red Sox games. Buenos noches, amigos. RemDog! I watched tons of CSI with Shawn due to sheer inertia, and I blame him for my distaste for forensic dramas, despite Lenny letting love rule. What the hell is up with this genre anyway? See J.G. Ballard’s essay as an attempt at some sort of explanation for the hold it has on the American imagination nowadays.

4 Websites I Visit Everyday
(everyday I have broadband access, you mean)

1) metafilter.com

2) pitchforkmedia.com

3) questionablecontent.net

4) news.google.com

4 Favorite Places I’ve Vacationed

Long-term underemployment and seven years (and counting! I’m in my 8th, you were right, Lil, I’ll be that perpetual student) of grad school have not enabled many vacations. However:

1) Zacatecas, Summer of 2000
I could’ve stayed longer, if it weren’t for my unnamed poisonous ex-girlfriend’s stupidity before this trip. Hanging in the zocalo, eating avocado sandwiches, drinking lovely Zacatecan wine, few non-Mexican tourists, and a comfortable climate in July at 9000 feet was well worth the 18 hours it took to get there by bus from Austin. Cheap too. I’ll do it again sometime minus the toxic ex.

2) Weekend Trip to Vermont, Summer of 2003
Vermont is fantastic. These people with their no-billboard policy understand my need to decompress from omnipresent advertising. A fun but too brief roadtrip, but I got to enjoy touring Ink’s old collegiate stomping grounds, a swimming hole on the AT, sleeping in a lovely old farmhouse in chilly weather, escape from Boston’s mugginess, and a surprisingly good Tex-Mex dinner. Bucolic.

3) Mexico City, Thanksgiving 1994
My girlfriend at the time and I received a free trip from her mother that was won by her friends at a Chili's. They gave it to my exe's mom who couldn’t use it because she had burned up all her vacation time in Turkey, who in turn passed it on to us, broke student and recent ex-student. You got that? The result:

• A free week in the Radisson while I desultorily studied for the GRE (which I broke like a cheap maquiliadora piñata despite being unable to afford real Princeton Review tutoring),
• luscious dark Mexican coffee in the mornings (we couldn’t resist racking up a room service tab just for it despite stocking the room’s fridge with sammich makings)
• fantastic museums (20th century Mexican painting is so underrated)
• Teotihuacán
• great window shopping
• the best subway system for the money in the world.

4) Manali Summer 1998
I went there for a week as a treat after 2 solid months of attempting to work in Dharamsala. This was the summer of heightened nuclear tension between India and Pakistan, highlighted by a kill radius of one of the bombs tested by Pak published in some Indian newspaper centered on Connaught Place. Let’s just say this little jaunt involved all the things that Manali is justly renowned for, an unrequited crush on a Flemish girl, my one true whack at the great American novel, a Brit named Rug who, quite appropriately, resembled an ambulatory rug, soi-disant “space cake”, and the transcendent post-modern moment of hanging out in a cafe and listening to techno music and a sadhu chanting along in time.
Oṃ Shivāya nāmaḥ*

*(Heaven help me if I've gotten the diactrics wrong. All my costly education gone to waste.)

After meticulously compiling this list, I now wish I had added the two trips to Arkansas to hang out at Cossatot River State Park & Natural Area and Lake Ouachita. That, sadly, would have violated the one trip per ex-girlfriend unofficial rule, despite the wonderful memories I possess.

4 Places I’d Rather Be

Nowhere else right now, but in the future:

1) Vienna
Coffee, Riesling, Guglhupf, and kipferl. Klimt, Mahler, and Wittgenstein. You do the math. Anyone please, puh-retty puh-lease send me a copy of The Austrian Mind right now. I’m craving it after reading "Wittgenstein's Vienna" and “Vienna Blood.” See below.

2) Vientiane and Luang Prabang, Laos
I can’t wait to go there; I have to get there soon, soon, now, right now, maybe hopefully sometime this year. Apparently, more French people are living in Laos now than during the colonial period. Good French bread, yummy Laotian food, a mild Southeast Asian climate, hopefully miminal development, and a Theravadin Buddhist environment. Yes, please.

3) Vladivostok
Who knows, this place might be a pit, and it’s not even listed on the Lonely Planet Guide website (is it in the book?), but flying just past it on my way to Nepal this time has whetted my appetite for Far Eastern Russia at the edge of the continent. It’s a dark post-Soviet/newly petrochemically power Russia mystery to me. I can’t help it, Alaska is too passé.

4) Venice in the Winter
It’ll be poignant, and I’ll spend an afternoon on or near the Bridge of Sighs as a prisoner of desire in the weak winter sunlight, contemplating the decrepit beauty of the Bride of the Sea as she glacially, gracefully, and gratefully sinks into the Adriatic.

4 Recent Books

1) Vienna Blood - Adrian Mathews
A surprisingly good techno thriller set in Vienna in 2026. This has a strange but lush tone, enough extrapolation that should satisfy sci-fi fans, and a truly interesting engagement with biotechnical, genetic, and political issues that are coming soon to a neighborhood near you. Keywords: eugenic, cacogenic, aristogenic. How ‘bout aristomemic for a neologism, Dick Dawkins and company?

2) The Annotated Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
I’ve been waiting to read this after reading “Reading Lolita in Teheran.”When the annotated version showed up at Pilgrims Books at a cut-rate, I was happy. Still am, the annotations help with some of the 50s period references that would’ve escaped me, and I always love intertextual goodness. Too bad I read the intro first though. I know this book disturbs women, and rightly so, but I expected more insight into the allure of younger women who are not necessarily illegally young.

Nevertheless, it is still a stunning indictment of American bourgeois society that resonates today despite a shift to a hyperconsumer society with a focus on connoisseurship in incidental commodities like coffee, gourmet food, and mid-20th century modern furniture for the moneyed and not so moneyed self-styled dissidents among us. Umm... It’s bougy, baby! Still required reading, especially since Nabokov despised psychoanalysis and carefully crafted Lolita accordingly.
Bravo, Vlad! Ce n’est pas une pipe, Siggy.

3) Playback - Raymond Chandler
It's a Raymond Chandler Evening
At the end of someone's day
And I'm standing in my pocket
And I'm slowly turning grey
Thanks, Robyn. I think I’ve finished all seven Chandler books with this one. Sigh. Here he makes deliberate references to the genre, the last one he wrote, but not ironically. Was he incapable...

Look, here’s my recent epiphany. Hardboiled fiction is the equivalent of Harlequin romances for men. We all (those among us who gender-identify with virile male/tough guy) vicariously imagine ourselves to be a tough broad-shouldered and ruggedly handsome man who rights wrongs outside of the law, frequently sleeps with extremely eager and curvy women with minimal courting, can take a vicious beating, and settles beefs decisively with a gun or our fists. Least that's how I read this genre. Chandler isn’t so blatant with these particular genre conventions, but it’s so readily apparent with Mickey Spillane and the Mike Hammer books that it ain’t funny, sister. So what? Take off, buster. You annoy me. I’ve met all kinds of punks in my time... Ah, call it a guilty pleasure and I’ll keep my eyes peeled for more Dashiell Hammett books here in KTM.

4) Leonardo’s Mountain of Clams and the Diet of Worms - Stephen Jay Gould
A collection of his monthly essays from Natural History magazine. An excellent stylist, clear and extremely interesting in that nerdy science way that is leavened nicely with ample historical documentation that thoroughly satisfies the inchoate historian in me. I’ve grown more interested in the effect that the theory of evolution has had on the social sciences, particularly philology and Buddhist Studies à la Baumann and Briggs. Hopefully at some point I’ll have a brilliant idea or two in this regard, but let’s not hold our breaths, shall we?

Now, The Four People I Tag:

Don't have four people. Most of my friends, as far as I know, don't have blogs, and I mulishly refuse to insist that they start one to satisfy your unreasonable demands. I can't imagine that Shawn would put something like this on the Trivia Jihad webblog since jihadis are too busy drinkin', trivia-playin', and whorin' their way through the great Boston metropolitian area. I'm sure Ryan is actually working on his dissertation. Padre Scott don't seem like that type either. Yammo, a.k.a. Amzig, updates more infrequently than I do.
I'm stumped, Miss Ladie, you'll just have to cope.

Four Things. Part I

Well, since I've been tagged by Miss Ladie, I reckon I have to rise to the challenge of my four things. My list is more extensive, since I've been sick and this was a pleasant way to while away an afternoon. I'll update more on the political situation here in KTM, but briefly, it's the same old story out here in Bouddha.

Without further ado, comrades, and I promise not to be brief, My Four Things, Part 1.

4 Jobs I've Had

1) Retail slave at Whole Earth Provision Company. One of the true slacker jobs in Austin. Probably my favorite job, although I doubt I could do it again because I despise waiting on people.

2) Dishwasher at several pizza restaurants. I like washing dishes, if it paid more, I might consider it for a career. You can get a lot of thinking done, you don’t have to talk to anyone, and it’s soothing (see Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins for further info).

3) Telemarketer for FedEx and other much less savory businesses that I refuse to reveal. My one truly shameful job. Getting fired from three other jobs doesn’t come close to comparing to the continuing shame I have about this one.

4) Selling meat out of the back of a truck door to door. Oh wait, that’s Shawn, my erstwhile and hopefully future roommate. Whassup, Shawndawg? Damn, I have nothing that can compare to that. I was a janitor at a movie theater for a number of years, starting when I was 15. I believe this explains my extreme reluctance to attend movies in situ. You try cleaning up after a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

4 Places I’ve Lived
1) Austin TX. You know I’ll always care for you, baby, but I had to move on. We had some good times, the best, and I’ll always remember those cool spring afternoons where we napped with all the doors and windows open in the house, the weekly gigs with my grunge band where I screamed my guts out, that March day where the grass in Zilker Park was pounded into overlapping circles by the hammer of God, and that 78704 lifestyle (ignore this).
Damn, I still love you girl.

2) Lowest Greenville, Dallas TX. Best neighborhood I’ve ever lived in, despite the tree falling on our apartment when a squall line of thunderstorms moved through. It was so noisy that I didn’t realize it ‘til the next morning when I went outside. Walking distance to everything you’d need, Whole Foods, ethnic grocery stores, the best Thai restaurant in the US, a coffee shop, and bookstores. Too bad Dallas is bighaircorporateplasticsurgeryevilland.

3) Somerville MA. Ugh. Maybe if I had lived closer to Davis Square I wouldn’t be the bitter broken man I’m today. Really, what the hell is up with the real estate prices here? Lacks the culture(s) and restaurants of New York, the natural beauty and enforced culture shock of the Bay Area, and finally, it has the crappiest weather in the world, so what’s the appeal?!? I remain baffled.

4) Kathmandu. Kat-daddy-mandu. The ‘Du. My newest love, despite her winter air with particulate claws in it, an extremely septic environment, and a slow shamble to failed state status. You’re my slattern and tattered goddess, befouled by overpopulation from war refugees from the countryside and a consumer society that noticeably increases before my very eyes. You’re the disheveled siren that’s called me since my early 20s, and now we’re finally together despite pressure cooker bombs, bandhas, frequent gastrointestinal distress, and cabbies that make me want to kill.

4 Favorite Dishes

1) The Greek Noodle Bowl (stupid name, but tasty linguini, pesto, cherry tomatoes, feta cheese, kalamata olives, and scallions) at Mars Restaurant and Bar in Austin.

2) Chicken gumbo. I came to this late, I hated gumbo as a kid after a bad duck gumbo experience involving sinew and gristle. Environment will tell though, since I don’t have that coonass blood. Coonass is sometimes derogatory slang for Cajun that's been re-appropriated by my peoples, y’all. Viva la race, chère! (but you gotta say it that Caju way /shah/).

3) Pad Thai. I could mainline this everyday. Why I’m not doing my research in Thailand or Laos baffles the hell outta me. My one true academic career mistake. Always pick a research area with excellent cuisine (sorry Tibetans, y’all don’t qualify through no fault of your own). Actually, let me amend this to Thai green papaya salad, Som Tam. Mmmm shrimp paste, chili, vinegar, grated green papaya, and hopefully fresh seafood.

4) Tex-Mex food. Our one true contribution to the world (ok, maybe also Bob Wills. who will always be King). I could eat this everyday, twice a day. I’d have to say migas at Kerby Lane Cafe would be the one dish I’d pick. Soft black bean tacos from there run a close second, although cheap greasy breakfast tacos from that joint on Airport Drive are the ultimate hangover food. Vitamin G, y’all. I loathe Boston for the lack of good dependable Tex-Mex food.

4 Current CDs in Rotation

Lemme check my new Sandisk Sansa 2 GB mp3 player. Being a lapsed Catholic boy, I have deliberate catholic tastes. Heavy rotation of aggro boy rock(Jesus Lizard for example) is usually on here cuz that’s what I work out to, but I’ve mellowed recently in my music selection due to infectious obstreperous throat that just won’t go away.

1) MIA - Arular. A critical fave. Check out pitchforkmeda.com for the saliva-laden accolades. A refugee Sri Lankan women in London whose dad was some sorta Tamil(?) rebel in Sri Lanka, hooks up with the hot DJ Diplo who’s mining baile funk from favelas in Brazil for beats, to form a winning combination. The post-post-colonial hiphop, with a hybrid shoutout to my Homi Bhabha.

2) Bark Psychosis - Hex. Early languid post-rock. 1994 was a productive year for these lads. Radiohead should pay them royalities for parts of their early albums. How did a xylophone become de rigueur for this kind of music?

3) The Decemberists - Her Majesty, The Decemberists. This one always makes me smile, but I can only take it in small doses, usually half the album at a time. “Your Red Right Ankle” is a brilliant example of wistful boy rock™. A jollier Smiths with a pirate fetish.

4) Antoine Forqueray - Pieces de viole - Suite I et II - Jordi Savall. I’ve become obsessed with viola da gamba music. French Baroque, and you know what they say, if it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it. Nothing matches the warmth and approximates the range of the human voice like a viola da gamba. Jordi Savall, along with Paolo Pandolfo, are the modern masters. Paolo, I could kiss your stubbly Italian mug for your revisioning of Bach’s Cello Suites.

The Phones Have Been Cut

According to Reuters, the phones in and out of Kathmandu have been cut. Internet access is still available, but I might be incognito for quite a while. All this means is that there'll probably be a spate of posts at some point. I'd blog more, especially about how I do not think that the elections will take place, but I've got some business to tidy up.

Juxtaposition is a Funny Science - Life During Wartime

Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons,
Packed up and ready to go
Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway,
A place where nobody knows

You may or may not have heard about the recent attacks in KTM. The Maoists, apparently for the first time, coordinated nearly simultaneous attacks throughout the valley. At 7:15 pm on Saturday night, as I was dozing in my bed due to a stomach bug and reading Stephen Jay Gould and listening to classical music, I heard a loud bang. For about 5 minutes afterwards, I heard 4-5 pops that sounded like small arms fire.

The sound of gunfire, off in the distance,
I’m getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstore, lived in the ghetto,
I’ve lived all over this town

This was a small bomb at a municipal building here in Bouddha. Not within the stupa area itself, since Maoists usually only attack police outposts and government buildings. This was just off of the main road. We (my roommate and upstair's neighbor) initially suspected that the police station on the main road had been hit.

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco,
This ain’t no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,
I ain’t got time for that now

Now, you might wonder why the hell I'm not extremely worred at this point, given my strict vow of cowardice (but I only strictly follow the One Commandment). During my stay here in the summer of 2004, I reckon I picked out that blasé expat attitude that most long-term residents here in KTM have. A Maoist blockade of the valley, riots following the senseless killing of Nepali workers in Iraq, and a shoot on sight curfew in which I walked (about 45 minutes to an hour) to the airport, has left me somewhat distanced from fear. Then again, I had some nervous moments walking back from the airport, especially since Ryan left me abruptly (long story, but thanks again Ryan!).

Transmit the message, to the receiver,
Hope for an answer some day
I got three passports, a couple of visas,
You don’t even know my real name

I haven't received any panicked emails yet from relatives, but I still need to email my birth mother. The funny thing is that I really was more nervous the times that I went to Times Square or any crowded area in Manhattan during 2002-2005. I hope, however, that the government doesn't decide to cut off communications from the outside world like after February 1st, 2005.

High on a hillside, the trucks are loading,
Everything’s ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nightime,
I might not ever get home

I know some people that have decided to leave. They should do what they need to do to feel safe, but I hope we see them back here soon. I hope I don't get pulled out by the U.S. government, but then, I'm much more invested in living and working here. I like KTM, and I always wanted to live here for a while, ever since I was about 19 or so. KTM has always been THE city of exotic allure for me, and it hasn't worn off yet.

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco,
This ain’t no fooling around
This ain’t no Mudd club, or C.B.G.B.,
I ain’t got time for that now

No more late night pub crawls in Thamel for the near future. Apparently, there is a semi-official curfew from midnight to 4 a.m. (according to today's Himalayan). If I want that bombed out post-apocalpyse developing country drinking ambiance with trash fires burning to warm the beggers and military police carrying assault rifles at 2 a.m., I'll have to wait. Not that I've ever done that.

Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit?
Heard about Pittsburgh, PA?
You oughta know not to stand by the window
Somebody might see you up there

I've heard gunfire quite a bit when I lived in Lowest Greenville in Dallas. (This, by the way, was the best neighborhood I've ever lived in. Just across the street was a Whole Foods, the best Thai restaurant ever and a whole host of other great things was in walking distance. It's too bad that Dallas in general is Black Line Big Hair Hell). So, gunfire itself doesn't worry me, stray bullets on the other hand, do cause me some concern. Then again, I didn't see someone get shot to death like my ex-girlfriend Tanya did in Dallas.

I got some groceries, some peanut butter,
To last a couple of days
But I ain’t got no speakers, ain’t got no
Heaphones, ain’t got no records to play

So we wait. It's bizarre that I was listening to viola da gamba solo music when this happened. A bit of the old Nero fiddlin' while Rome burns vibe, but I was ailing and trying to get my stomach right. At dinner on Friday night, Suzanne and I met some extremely long-term residents of KTM, and she asked their opinion of the situation. They shrugged and replied that they're stocking up. So are we. There is a natural gas shortage here, and the Maoists have declared a six day bandh. That's an extremely long time for a bandh, and unfortunately, the poor are the ones that suffer due to the shops being closed.

Why stay in college? Why go to night school?
Gonna be different this time
Can’t write a letter, can’t send a postcard,
I can’t write nothing at all

Actually, I am now facing a hard deadline of March 1st for two draft chapters of my disseration. Teacher James has graciously agree to read and critique my dissertation proposal, and since he's a sharp guy, I should be getting excellent feedback. We're currently experiencing rolling blackouts due to the energy shortage here, so hopefully I'll have enough juice to get this done.

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco,
This ain’t no fooling around
I’d like to kiss you, I’d love you hold you
I ain’t got no time for that now

Actually, civil war in a developing country is like a time-lapse war. Not for the poor souls suffering out in the countryside, but here in KTM, the only signs are more and more refugees pouring into the city, a massive building boom to try and accomodate them, and frenzied political rallies that I avoid at all costs. Fortunately, Bouddha is far away from most places that have rallies, except Chabahil up the main road a bit.

Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock,
We blended with the crowd
We got computer, we’re tapping phone lines,
I know that ain’t allowed

I hope, for the sake of the country and the people, that all of this resolves peacefully. I have the disturbing intuition that we're heading for some sort of climax, an intuition that most long-term residents here scoff at. I think they're inured to thinking any other way, given their commitments to living, working, and studying here. I also selfishly want to be able to go to Dolpo sometime this summer and visit Dawa at the village where he teaches. Shawn might make that trip with me, and we'll make it "Razor's Edge" style cuz that's how we do.

We dress like students, we dress like housewives,
Or in a suit and a tie
I changed my hairstyle, so many times now,
I don’t know what I look like!

Incidentally, I've been asked by three Nepalis, once quite confrontationally, if I am a Muslim. I suppose the beard does it. Amish-type beard must be THE major signifier for male Muslimness.

You make me shiver, I feel so tender,
We make a pretty good team
Don’t get exhausted, I’ll do some driving,
You ought to get some sleep

I suppose I'm be sleeping less once things start on January 20th with the enormous political rally that the seven major political parties are holding. Supposedly 500,000 people will be protesting. Needless to say, I'll be holed up here in Bouddha awaiting developments.

Get you instructions, follow directions,
Then you should change your address
Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day,
Whatever you think is best

With the election that the main political parties are boycotting on February 8th and the 10th anniversary of the beginning of the Maoist "people's war" on the 15th of February, I might be forced to change my residence. I wonder if the Fulbright folks will be take me all the way out or allow me to go to India. If I go to India, then I face the noisome burden of deciding where the hell I'll go and work. I think Suzanne is going to Dharamsala, which should be habitable by the end of February (it's cold up there right now). Sarnath is another choice, so is Bir, but damnit, I've got everything arranged here: good Sanskrit and Tibetan tutors, a great living situation, and research opportunities galore. It's petty of me to whine, but I hate to pack, and I enjoy observing Newton's 1st Law (The Law of Inertia): "Unless acted upon, a body at rest stays at rest, and a body in motion stays in motion." Always have, always will.

Burned all my notebooks, what good are
Notebooks? they won’t help me survive
My chest is aching, burns like a furnace,
The burning keeps me alive

So, here, finally, is a longish blog entry. I have plenty of ideas, and maybe I've have the impetus, the time, and the energy to keep up the pace in the coming days. It's sure to be exciting, and I wonder if there is a Tibetan proverb that parallels the pseudo-Chinese curse/proverb, "May you live in interesting times." More on Tibetan proverbs later, since they form a major part of my modern Tibetan lessons.

Try to stay healthy, physical fitness,
Don’t want to catch no disease
Try to be careful, don’t take no chances,
You better watch what you say

Well, I'm off to purchase some Azithromycin. Hopefully, that's unknot my stomach because the Ayurvedic remedies don't seem to be making a dent in whatever has taken up lodging in my stomach. If this entry seemed forced, well, that's the nature of art. Besides, you can blame Suzanne for encouraging me to blog more.

It's hard to type in KTM in the winter

Dawa, my Tibetan tutor on my porch, and of course he's on his cell and looking through a dictionary at the same time.


Of course I fully intended to update my blog regularly while here in Nepal, but the strange thing is that sitting at a computer and/or sitting in an Internet cafe coaxing along the narrowest bandwith I've had the displeasure in years to encounter just does not seem that appealing here.

Above is the top of the bus on the ride home after a two day rafting trip on the Bhote Kosi. You see Scott, John, David and Derrick.

I wonder why updating my blog holds so little appeal? Could it be that Kathmandu is a vibrant crazy insane developing country capital convulsed with civil war? Or that I'm spending a solid four hours a day trying to beat modern Tibetan into my brain and I'm totally exhausted afterwards? Or that I'd much rather walk and look and smell the city than write about it?

However, I will post some updates soon, especially about the rafting trip of death on the Bhote Kosi.

In the meantime, I'll also post some links on the left to other Fulbrighters who are much more generous with their blogging than I, selfish bastard that I am.

I also posted a few pictures for your bandwith whores, even though it takes kalpas of time to upload them.