I woke up the next morning with the intention of spending my day lounging by the lake.
There was a nice little park right down the street from Hotel Snow Leopard; I had a nice little Instagram photo in my mind of me sitting on a bench, reading a book or writing in my journal next to this impressive mountain lake.
I had American breakfast at a cafe by the lake, and then went to go sit down.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to get the peaceful morning I had imagined.
[this is a serial story about my travel in Nepal during March 2016. Start with chapter 1, here.]
Almost as soon as I sat down, I was approached by a greasy-looking young Nepali man. He immediately engaged me in conversation. Despite my shut-off body language and answers, he wasn’t deterred. He sat himself down next to me, uncomfortably close.
He desperately wanted to sell me something.
Too bad for this guy, I wasn’t in the same charitable mood I had been yesterday. Plus, he wasn’t nearly as charming as the old man with no shoes— this guy was just obnoxious, overly pushy, and drunk at 11 in the morning. And he wouldn’t take a hint.
“You want to rent a scooter?” he asked.
“Bike?” he asked.
“No. I just want to stay by the lake.”
“Ah! You need a boat then? I can help with that. Good prices.”
“No thank you.”
We sat in awkward silence for a moment.
“Boat ride?” he asked.
No.” I said, a little more firmly. “I don’t want anything.”
“Ah, you just want sit here, look at the lake?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, relieved.
“You want hashish?” he asked.
“No,” I responded, irritated.
“Hashish? Maybe you know… weed?” he clarified.
“I don’t want weed.”
“Why not?” He persisted. “On a day like this,” he made a sweeping gesture across the sunny lake. “You sit here, smoke a little—“ he made a quick inhaling motion, “you sit back like ahhhh–“ he mimed the action of relaxing, “day is perfect.”
“No thanks,” I said, again. I was starting to get a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to leave me alone.
He leaned over conspiratorially. “Mushrooms?” he whispered under his breath.
“No!” I said.
“You just want to relax,” he said.
“Why not get massage then? I know good place, good price.”
“Sexy massage?” He started rubbing my shoulders. I jerked away.
“Girls?” He asked. “I know place. Sexy girls.”
“Boys?” he asked, questioning. “Little girls? Little boys? Make you feel good.” He reached over and twisted my nipple. This time I pushed him away.
“No!” I practically shouted at him. “I don’t want anything!”
He looked a little taken aback.
“I am bothering you,” he said, almost as if he was realizing it for the first time.
“Yes,” I responded, exasperated. “I have to go meet my friends,” I lied.
I got up, and so did he.
“You don’t need to leave!” he said. “I go.”
“I’ve gotta go, people are waiting for me,” I said, hoping to discourage him from following.
“Namaste, my friend!” he called after me.
I didn’t answer as I sped away.