The Malaysian and I split the cab fare— $15 each, or so, which felt a little steep in Nepal. But seeing as the cabbie had just driven us for an hour and a half into the mountains, we weren’t really in any position to argue.
And considering one can drop $15 at Starbucks if they’re not careful, it seemed silly to be upset.
As I stepped out of the taxi, I couldn’t help but realize: here I am.
The taxi ride was a little awkward.
There were four of us. The driver spoke no English, as far as I could tell. Our trekking guide sat up front, occasionally chatting with the driver in their native tongue. I shared the backseat with a small Malaysian man. We had all introduced ourselves, but the names were foreign, and hadn’t stuck.
For all intents and purposes, I was in a car with three strangers, heading for the remote mountains of Nepal.
I didn’t sleep well the night before my trek.
Anxiety kept me from falling asleep, and when I finally did fall asleep, I kept waking up with an irritated stomach—a physical manifestation of the anxiety I felt.
[no, that’s not a picture of Nasi Goreng… it’s some of the fancy organic food one can get in Bali… didn’t have a picture of Nasi Goreng because tbh it’s just not that photogenic… just fried rice… quite tasty tho.]
With my bag packed and the rest of my luggage (somewhat) safely stored at the Hotel Snow Leopard, I was just about ready to leave Pokhara.
I walked out of Eastern Light Trekking feeling confused.
For the first time since I arrived in Nepal, I had a plan. An actual, concrete plan. With dates and destinations and everything. It felt odd. Didn’t feel right.
After the messy struggle that brought me here, had I finally sorted it all out?
thisisyouth 