Fear and Loathing and The Living Goddess

Well, for another couple of minutes I’ve kept my head out of my ass and my hands on the keyboard. Spending the morning smoking hash and drinking rice beer in this opium den was a good decision.

Burning Bodies

The day after my arrival I learned that five other volunteers had arrived at the same time, and that they were all staying in Kathmandu for the week to take a “Language and Culture” Course. I decided to join them and get acclimated. During the days we visited ancient Hindu Temples and holy rivers, spun Buddhist prayer wheels, saw monkeys fighting stray dogs, smelt burning bodies from funeral pyres, caught a glimpse of a living Goddess, saw monkeys fighting stray children, got blessed by both Hindu priests and Buddhist monks, and met other travelers from around the world. During the Night, we had other adventures. 

To avoid tarnishing the reputations of those involved in the debauchery, and seeing as I don’t have a damageable reputation anyways, I’ll leave out the names and keep it as brief and hilarious as I can. I made some good friends and we saw and did some fun, bizarre shit. Gorkah and Everest beers were drank, dances danced, Nepali’s befriended, cigarettes extinguished on fingers (drunkenly dubbed Kathmandu tattoos...), and many memorable times were had. Kathmandu has a great nightlife and surprisingly great music. We saw live bands playing tons of western songs and Nepali songs and danced accordingly. The only downside was that most places closed at midnight, except Club OMG. 

One of those first "early" nights, before we understood the sad, weird, late-night glory of Club OMG, five of us stumbled back to our hotel at midnight, riled up and disappointed. We felt we couldn't give up on the night this easily. We were in motherfucking Nepal. The streets, however, were dark, deserted and hopeless. We began drunkenly shedding our clothes and preparing to sleep. Then, suddenly, two of us had a whiskey fueled, third-world inspired burst of motivation. Though beyond my personal recollection, I apparently went on a loud, nonsensical, new-age rant about how,

 "THIS IS OUR ONE, ONLY CHANCE TO EXPERIENCE THIS MOMENT!"

One Canadian was convinced. Too irrational to redress and too motivated to care, we stumbled back out into the night, seeking one last grasp of drunken grandeur. Sadly, we failed. Not barely clothed nor coherent, and after pissing off the balcony onto the street, we stumbled shoeless down to the lobby and demanded that the front desk guy take us to an open bar. Being terrible at Nepali and blackout drunk made communication difficult. We were deranged. He was clearly horrified. According to his lies, there was nowhere to go. Our demands turned to pleas, but were to no avail. After an impressive effort, hope began to fade and exhaustion sank in. Defeated, we said "Fuck the moment," staggered back to the room and succumbed to the darkness.  

At the end of the week the group dispersed, each of us leaving to different projects around the country. Ultimately, I couldn't have asked for a more enjoyable and culturally vibrant experience. My alcohol, weed, and Adderall detox was, however, off to a slow start.  The only drawback was that it shifted my focus away from the real challenge that lie ahead. I nearly forgot that I still had two-and-a-half months teaching in an isolated Buddhist monastery. 

The journey into my mind had only just begun.