Adaptability

I consider myself to be a pretty adaptable person. It’s a job requirement. I managed to get a full night’s sleep on a few blankets on top of some wood boards in the field the other night, I went a week without a hot shower, and I’ve even managed to eat okra a few times. But there are some exceptions:

The food in Nepal is awesome. Most Nepalis eat nothing but dal bhat tarkari: lentil soup, rice, and some kind of vegetable curry – if you’re lucky, two curries, and if you’re even luckier some cucumbers and a papad. My guesthouse in Surkhet also throws in fresh homemade yogurt with dinner. So I could eat dal bhat every day, easy. What I can’t get used to is when they eat. I have yet to finish the mountain of rice they give me – really, it’s an astonishing pile of starch – and most Nepalis get seconds. And because they eat so much, they don’t even snack between lunch at 9 or 10 and dinner at 8. That’s 10-11 hours between meals. I’m glad I brought some clif bars.

I’ve picked up enough Nepali for basic needs, but language isn’t just about learning the Nepali words for what I want to say. An example: there is a word for “thank you” but Nepalis don’t say it except for very big things. So when I get my food at a restaurant or change in a store and respond with “danyabad” they think I’m a huge weirdo, unless I’m in a tourist area where they’re used to such strange behavior. But I am just incapable of not saying anything because I feel so rude, especially living in a foreign country where I want to be so polite and nice to everyone. I’ve taken to just saying thank you in my head so I don’t feel like a jerk.

I think my ears are the least adaptable part of me. I cringe every time I hear the hacking flemy coughs that everyone in Nepal is afflicted with. And the honking. Is it really necessary to announce your presence to every car or motorcycle or chicken or rock you pass?

Lastly. I’m all about the baggy pants, but they just don’t cut it on a bike. My deepest apologies to anyone who has had to witness the sight of my knees.