Peddling Poetry in Pokhara...

Pokhara...perhaps a bit less noisy than Kathmandu, but not necessarily more enjoyable. I've hired a bicycle for the next two weeks...loving the feeling of being self propelled. Peddling through town during the nightly torrential downpours makes me oddly happy...like a child in muddy puddles. I'm also working on a new song...sweet and lighthearted. Sitting at the lake's edge and tinkering with lyrics is a lovely way to pass the time.

Other than that, I can't say that I'm terribly impressed with Pokhara. So many people told me I'd love it...but, in actuality, unless you are preparing for or returning from a trek, it's not the most exciting of places. So...I'm continuing what I started in Kathmandu...slowly catching up on my endless stream of photo uploads. Amazingly, I am just a few days away from being to able upload current images. If I really give it a good push, I might finish even sooner. Hard to imagine! Such a prospect excites me more than I can say and might help to renew my inspiration...re-open my eyes to the magic around me...help me to enjoy the next two weeks a bit more.

The learning continues:

16 April: Here again...though what I feel is hard to name, I've been here before...this quietude is familiar. It returns upon arrival in each new city...a tentative sort of watching...curious observation. How does this place feel? How does it sound? Each place has its own rhythm...subtle patterning. So I watch...as though studying the rise and fall of a skipping rope to better time my jumping in...matching my step to its beat to ensure the smoothest integration...finding the spot where I'll most easily fit. I've never really given it much thought, but I realize now that I've been doing this for most of my life. It most definitely predates this trip...most likely arising out of necessity...a child's need to belong in a world that was forever changing around her. The constant moving between parents...between cities and states...between schools...friends....forever starting anew...forever saying goodbye. It was a survival instinct, really, that made me so good at making friends... learning the subtle art of NOT standing out as the new kid...becoming adept at seamlessly fitting in quickly ...without betraying the inherent vulnerability of such a groundless existence. Along the way, I've accumulated many 'friends', but the vast majority of those don't run so deep. While I may be skilled at charming people into liking me when first we meet, I don't let many people in...not past a certain safety zone of easy acquaintance. Now it's simply habitual, but I'm sure it was just too difficult to continuously leave people behind. Easier to do so if their influence on me was shallow...no more difficult to remove and discard than a garment I'd outgrown. In light of such tendencies...those few amazing souls who have dug themselves deeper into me are clearly incredible blessings. They've battled it out with my relentless sentries and found the softest of places that is 'me'...unguarded...imperfect...human. They keep me company there, regardless of physical location. No distance will ever weaken that...nor the passage of time diminish it. They are never left behind...therefore, I am never alone...

17 April: Candlelight...when all else feels transitory and inconstant, the warm familiarity of candlelight offers a comforting steadiness, making any space livable, even if only for a moment or two. I've taken a room temporarily...an in between space to close me in until a more suitable, slightly less temporary place opens up. I spent the last two nights sharing a room with an Israeli girl whom I did not know, simply because it was all that was available. Each day I've made the rounds, hoping for a change of answer to my repeated inquiry. No rooms...or..yes, expensive rooms...or, the occasional, affordable but dark and damp room. I suppose I'm picky, but securing a room that feels like it could be 'home' for a spell is of utmost importance. Finding such a space is ever more difficult when each guesthouse is already full to the brim. 'Tomorrow' they say...'ask again tomorrow....or, no...day after tomorrow'. Yes...tomorrow will likely find me making the rounds yet again. But, for now...the candles are keeping me company...making me feel ever so slightly 'at home'....

18 April: Yet another new room...christened again in candlelight. Perhaps it isn't perfect, but it'll do for now. The name of the guesthouse...'Be Happy'...and the nest full of baby birds in the entryway seemed like good omens, so I grabbed it while I could. The fruitless search was making me weary. So, it's a bit closer to town than I'd hoped for...a touch noisier than ideal...a hair pricier than it should be...but it's quaint...sort of charming...bright during the day and cozy at night. I've got my own bathroom and a massive, comfy bed with white sheets and good pillows...these things are not so easily come by, making the price semi-reasonable. I'm sure, in retrospect, I'll find such frugality silly and amusing...but, for now, $4 a night is still on the steep side. Despite that, I feel good here. And NOT rising early tomorrow to ask again and again will be its own reward. *Found two friends today. One that I met in India...another from Kathmandu. It was nice to spend time with them, though both are leaving early tomorrow. For one afternoon, at least, it took the edge off the subtle loneliness that hovers forever in the background... 

Headed out again...guitar strapped to my back...peddling through Pokhara with poetry on my breath...