Fuel.

The valley is out of fuel.  Kerosene, diesel and petrol are all in very short supply.  As further insult the government has imposed long brown - outs, leaving the citizens of Kathmandu with only a few hours of electricity a day.  At night my car windows frost over and the city is pitch black.  It smells like we live in a fire pit as smoke from roadside fires mingles with normal pollution.  Today my housekeeper requested to take home a pile of garden rubbish to burn in her home. 

I drove down the road yesterday and abruptly slammed on my breaks. My head jolted back.  The cars in front of me were completely stopped.  A tail of automobiles and motorcycles looped for a kilometer up the hill, parked waiting in the fuel queue at a crumbling gas station.  Drivers wait up to three days for five kilos of petrol.  On Saturday we watched drivers stalk a fuel truck like prey as it pulled into a station and police attempted to perform crowd control amongst costumers hungry to refill their vehicles.

As I write our generator rumbles on.  Our house is not warm.  I am wearing two sweatshirts but it is light.  At night I heat one room of our house and we huddle together enjoying the close company.  We are protected from the discomfort suffered my ordinary Nepalis.  Our government has built alliances our generator will never be empty.  Our heat will be available on demand.