The Chatty Postman

I collected another phone number today. Not as a flirting thing (I don't think). During my rounds at the post office I met a nice man who expressed a wish to practice his English. We sat and talked for at least an hour, during which we covered the Congress Party, democracy, Nepali emigrant patterns, arranged marriages, joint bank accounts, and the compatibility of Hinduism and Buddhism. For jobs young Nepali's travel to Islamic countries (oddly enough). Mostly Malaysia and a few others I can't remember. Very few go to the US because the interview to get a visa costs about $300. That's dollars not rupees and that's just the interview to see if you qualify not the visa.

Towards the end of our conversation a lady came in with a plate of some sweet things that looked like corn kernels and the red powder with rice used for tika's. For no apparent reason she seemed to be going around to the employees at the post office and giving tikas. She was adorable and gave me one also before remonstrating my friend for not offering me momo. Well, after that we had to go down the street and eat, out of a leaf bowl, the best momo I've had this whole time.

During lunch we talked of health care and he invited me to visit his home. I considered this proposition suspect until he told me he wanted to introduce me to his brother and sister-in-law. Then I was able to give him a legitimate regretful refusal because I needed to meet Jen.

For dinner I had 'genuine' mint chocolate chip Baskin Robins ice cream. Then i had great fun hanging out the side of the bus on the way back home. I prefer not to think about how many pounds past the recommended weight limit the bus must have been. And mostly on one side. In any case I'm home safe and sound.

Oh, and I think I'm mostly in Nepal now.