Notes about Wednesday

Yesterday was another bandh day.  All traffic was forbidden by protesters angry about the rise in fuel prices.  Economically the bandh is a bad thing.  The bandh creates a climate of insecurity and commerce suffers.  I have heard that some bandhs grow violent but we have not seen this yet.  Mostly, young men stand in the street burning tires while the rest of us take to foot to reach our destinations.

Forgive me for admitting this, but I love bandh days.  I am saddened that the Nepali political climate permits these disturbances but I enjoy our bandh day routines.  I even wonder if this slow quiet version of Kathmandu was what first spurred the hippy migration to Kathmandu.

Yesterday the city was very quiet.  No horns blared.  Large trucks did not rumble by and even the dogs seemed to bark less.  I have grown so used to the noise that its absence felt almost like a missing appendage.  As I cooked breakfast for Jess and JAC, I sipped my coffee relishing the silence.  The view of the Himalayas was perfect, devoid of vehicle pollution.  The morning was serene.

Later Jess walked to work.  I let JAC pick out snacks to put in his duck shaped backpack and we left our compound.  My son is at his best with a mission and with his backpack on he felt important.  He marched forward down our street tightly holding my hand.  We walked side by side through back neighborhoods and climbed a steep trail. We each carried a small rock to throw at angry dogs.  This was JAC's idea.  "We need dog rock," he instructed. Later, he told me, "My duck backpack heavy."  I looked at him earnestly and replied, "But you are strong."  With this small encouragement JAC stumbled up the dirt trail.

We arrived at our friends house and I spent the morning drinking coffee, eating muffins and loving the conversation.  Her teenage daughter played with JAC and he disappeared to her room loving the attention.  Later we tripped back down the trails and JAC found a huge stick.  He chased me a bit and I chased him without worry of being mowed down by an unexpected truck.  We jumped over potholes and I stopped to snap a picture of JAC carrying a branch twice his size.  "I take picture of mom?" JAC asked.  I handed over the camera and marveled.  Only a few years ago he was crawling.  Now he is my hiking buddy with ideas of his own.