...and so small all at once?
It's been a week since I left and while you're exploring new states in the beautiful U.S., I'm sitting and watching a delicious sunrise over Kathmandu and wondering how dogs all over the world yowl the exact same yowl when they're hungry; or why babies cry the exact same way on an airplane going to Reykjavik or Tokyo; or why that same basic human instinct of protect is in a woman here in Kathmandu and a young boy in Boulder; or why thirst hits your insides the same way it does someone here; or why mistrust looks the same no matter where you are; and love lights up worlds and crushes hearts the same no matter where or when you occupy a little space and time on this planet.
Yesterday (your today), we walked to a shop that makes clothes out of bamboo and hemp fiber. Very much like that shop that's way out of our budget on Pearl St. and what most stoners' clothes may try to look like sans the nasty smell. I saw a display (in the picture below) of all the natural things they use to make and color their fibers and it never ceases to fascinate me just how ingenious we humans are.
On a similar note of how different and inexpensive things here are, I'm also perpetually confused by another global fact. These things ought to make sense in a fast globalized world, but to me they still don't. Most Nepalis I've talked to so far from a relatively lower socioeconomic group, make less than $150 a month and that's considered pretty good. Given that, I can see how a sizeable packet of gluten free chocolate chip cookies (also pictured below) would be considered out-of-reach to many priced at a costly $1.93. If I made $150 a month, I would consider it rather outrageous to justify that cookie purchase, no matter how yummy.
Mummy and I also watched the movie Everest and once again, I wondered about human potential and how the world is so big, yet small enough to unite a similarly and simultaneously brave and out-of-their-minds group of climbers to go somewhere where clearly we're not supposed to survive. Yet, somehow, through irreverant magic and unfiltered resilience, we do. Of the many thousands who have summited Everest since Norgay and Hillary, an eighth or so have died. From the accounts that I have read, they died doing what they loved, where they loved. Is that so out-of-their-mindish?
In this big big world, there is a small small girl and she got woken up by gentle doggy licks on her nose. I mean, look at those eyes.
And this girl is missing you.