Isaac Whatever

Yesterday I passed two kids playing ping pong on an old stone table, with bricks stacked up for a net. They were in a little courtyard of a dilapidated house somewhere between the monastery and BlueBird, which everyone agrees is the only place in town that might have pants my size. It turned out they didn't. The kids would have made a perfect picture of life in Kathmandu. We'll make do, it would say, we'll play anyway.

A young woman, dressed in casual western-style clothing (not a sari or anything) stepped boldly out into traffic in front of us, forcing us to stop. It's the accepted method of crossing the road here, but I was still impressed. Something about how she seemed normal to me, in a place where everything is insane. The normality of her clothing made her behavior stand out in sharp contrast. I imagine she made it to the other side ok, but I can't assume so. Assuming the ordinary is not recommended here in Kathmandu.

So I was doing some backups today, and I found that there was already some junk in the backup area. I was looking through it and I came accross some stuff I had written in Kathmandu. It's actually amazingly boring stuff, but since someone, somewhere might be interested in it, I'll post it.

My first day at a semi-respectable job. I'm an unpaid intern. I have a cubicle. It has a phone and a computer and a pad of sticky notes. I don't actually have a pen yet. I think I get one next week.

They gave me this nice map of the offices, so I won't get lost. My cubicle is labelled "Title Storage" on the map.

At least I don't work outside.
-Isaac