Observations & Thoughts from the Tribhuvan International Airport, Kathmandu

-  It just occurred to me that it’s April Fool’s Day and I can recall this day last year. My Bhutanese students tried to fool me all day but they weren’t good fools – more like, “You have dirt on your face,” and as I moved my hand to touch my face, they’d squeal with laughter and say, “April Fool’s Day!” as if they got me real good.

-  All the Nepali going abroad are men. When I looked at the long line of locals at the immigration line – a line a lot bigger than the foreigner line – all my eyes could see were males. The lucky ones. So many Nepalis long to leave their own country for money, for stability. I wonder – will any of their journeys end in America?

-  On our taxi ride from the Mustang Guest House to the airport, I got a little sad about leaving. The road we were on for much of the drive was getting torn up – as are so many roads we’ve seen in the past three months – so there was rubble everywhere. Rubble from the broken road, rubble from crumbling buildings, just rubble. It was a little past 7 am. Tea wallahs were doing good business, kids in Taekwondo outfits practiced their moves on a littered field, shops were opening up and beginning their work day. And it occurred to me that taking pictures of the mountains did not capture Nepal. I missed shooting the everyday stuff – the storefronts advertising ‘hygienic fast food,’ Nepali men wearing colorful Dhaka topis, or hats, that rest on the crown of their heads, small small children waddling about with seemingly no parental guidance, people drinking their morning tea out of small glasses.

-  Last night I was ready to leave Thamel, Kathmandu, Nepal, but now I feel a longing to stay. Having left India and, now, departing Nepal, Scott and I are leaving the sphere of Bhutan – neighboring countries that can vouch for Bhutan’s existence because their own people live and work there, when so much of the rest of the world have no idea where or what Bhutan is. Leaving this area of the world feels like leaving Bhutan all over again. Scott reminded me that Thai women love the King of Bhutan and I reminded myself that Bangkok, our next destination, has become a major holiday spot for Bhutanese with money, so we’re not straying too far yet. But soon enough, as we continue to cross time zones and borders, we’ll be far, far from Bhutan. And that makes me nervous.