The Walk

As the kids are still responding in unison to their martial arts master nearby, my morning walk begins. My scarf is nicely placed over my head to keep my ears and neck warm. My hands are nestled in the end of my warm sweater. The terrain varies greatly. It ranges from dirt paths bordered by high brick walls with garbage here and there, to paved roads with higher density traffic involving large cars, motorcycles, loaded bikes and fellow pedestrians. One consistent characteristic is unevenness below my toes... wherever it is in Kathmandu, flexibility is a necessary trait for feet.

My head is usually looking down as I zigzag through this obstacle course, but not enough, mind you, to miss the interesting people I can meet on this path. Yesterday, I first came across Martin on his bike. He is a long-term INF staff, the mind behind many of INFs high quality promotional materials. A little later, I watch an elderly man with only one eye artfully manage the rocks and rubble with a worn stick. In a little shortcut, I see a young woman whom I recognize. I ask out loud: “Tapailai chinchu hoina?” (I know you right?)... well I was right, she was a certified medical assistant student in Ghorahi, who listened on to my lengthy rants about infection control on burn patients and giggled as I entertained sick patients and children with my (not so present) Nepali dancing skills. She was just visiting some friends for a couple of days, and there she was on my walk to work! As I come close to work, I pass by two little ganesha shrines... mothers, children, taxi drivers, business men all come and pay their respect with red powder as they head to their next planned activity, hoping for good luck.

After a long day at work, the walk home is different. The air is warmer and dirtier. As I close my teeth together, there comes the gritty sound of dust and dirt. My scarf is no longer around my head in a ‘Mary Magdalena’ type of pose, but over my mouth and nostrils to stop the larger dust particles from creating havoc in my lungs. No wonder Kathmandu is one of the most polluted cities around! There is honking from all sides. It seems to be a gesture to signify one’s motorized presence, but without any expectation of action. They beep, not because I’m in the way... but just because...

I walk pass many Hindu gods... Today, I noted a little shrine to Krishna, which had written upon it: Pollution causes Cancer. I wonder where that came from. School girls walking home in uniform, builders digging a foundation of a new house with a slightly off radio on, stray dogs all over who don’t seem to care about anything...

All of this is part of a 20 minute walk to and from work