Sujan walked me around Kathmandu for a few hours.
As we spent more time together, our chemistry grew and my walls started to drop, a little bit. We went to the monastery, where we spun prayer wheels and spoke of the mixture of Hinduism and Buddhism. Although in the U.S. we are taught the two religions are separate, here, as in many places in Asia, they have intermingled.
“Do not be afraid,” Sujan says when I hesitate to enter a temple. “Is touristic place.”
He shows me an array of butter lamps inside the temple. “Do you have someone to light one for? Good health, good thoughts? Prayers? Love?”
I light a lamp for Holly, and we return to the streets of Kathmandu.
NOTE: I’ve really been slacking on the travel blogging, partially because we’ve been having so much fun, and partially because I do have a day job. Bler. Despite that, I do have a backlog of adventures to write up, so look for those in the coming week. They’re not quite in chronological order, because I figure it’s better to get content, any content, flowing again. So, without further ado:
Feeling Othered in Kuala Lumpur
Before we were feeling othered in Kuala Lumpur, we were in Ko Lanta, Thailand, sitting cross-legged in a treehouse on the beach. It was nighttime, and now and then a huge lightning storm went off in the distance, lighting up the whole Andaman sea for a moment, before it all went black again. In the foreground, a few local Thais put on a show of their own, spinning and throwing flaming balls of kerosene-soaked rags for the tourists in the chintz plastic chairs.
Polly and I sat cross-legged above the scene, in a second-storey tree house nested in the clavicle of a beach palm. A local Thai and two British schoolteachers were our company. We told the teachers of our travel plans: to Singapore, where we’d stay at the Marina Bay Sands, then on to Kuala Lumpur for a few nights, in transit to Bali.
“Two days is about right for Singapore. Like… negative one days for KL,” they said. “It’s… not a very nice place.”
This is what everyone says about KL.