Nameste,
Below balcony red flowers.
Thick green foliage.
Hindu temple, slate gray roof.
Red clay, steep stone path.
Fertile wide green valley, corn, rice.
Rising green forests.
South-west gray mountain range.
White and gray cumulus.
Sunlight meditates.
Metta.
Namaste,
As Joseph Campbell wrote in The Hero With A Thousand Faces, the hero's journey is the space within the heart.
AUM. A - a waking consciousness. U - dream consciousness. M - deep sleep.
The manpower investment training wheels in Nepal is slight to non-existant. Young future immigrants move to rich countries. No manufacturing. Woman manufacture babies for export. Import everything from outside.
A Nepalese man named Thor below a hill station sits in the hot sun. He picks up a medium size stone. He places the stone on a larger stone. He raises his hammer. He smashes the medium size stone into fragments.
He pushes the fragments into a pile. When I have a big pile, he said, smiling, someone will collect them. They will put them on a truck and sell them in India. This is my life.
Teams of starlings wing below fast moving clouds above rolling green hills, farms, rice paddies, snow ranges.
An old woman departed a distant valley. She carries a 40-pound bag of sand on her back up steep ragged slippery slate steps. Step by step. The meshed rope blazes into her forehead. This is my life.
A babbling Chinese tourist walks past the man and woman. This is the best day of my life.
Metta.
Namaste,
In another dramatic, exciting, heart stopping, palpitating, effervescent, totally complete silence, the entire country of Nepal, (No Electricity Power And Light) decided to have a general strike. Everything is shut down. Locked steel shuttered businesses decorate main street.
There are 36 castes here. Give or take 100 sub divisions. A caste is a traditional hard core socially cultural belief and practice bestowing style, honor, privilege and status to selected humans born into a specific family. Anthropologist and pathologists consider this invention a specialized branch of the value based Angiosperm.
How do you spell discrimination?
"Muluki Ain (1854) divided Nepalese citizens into two castes "the caste whose water is allowed to remain pure" and "the caste whose water is defiled". Chiefs of the various castes were entrusted with sorting out issues related to their own castes.[1] The heads of Kamis (blacksmiths) and Sarkis (tanners and cobblers) were called Mijhars. Similarly the head ofDamai (tailors and musicians) was called Nagarchi." Read more.
As Shiva, a female ear hearing specialist explained, "People are striking to abolish the caste system. They want equality."
"Yes, said Vishnu her friend, "They want to be a musical blacksmith cobbling a life. They want to walk empty streets selling hot delicious cinnamon flavored pastries. They want to develop and profit from vast mountainous snow capped high altitude regions of pure air in never-never land. They want to tan their hide or hide their tan. They want to impersonate Elvis after dark.
"They want to be a brick boy in the Kathmandu valley. They want to be a free person in a free country."
Three strikes and you're out.
Metta.
Namaste,
You gotta love a Nepalese tourist town when residents have a local transportation strike.
One day. No formula racing cars, blaring horns, buses, motorcycles, diesel belching noxious tractors, broken Chinese dump trucks, mini-vans, maxi-vans, amphibious assault vehicles, tanks, armored personnel carriers, jeeps, school buses, or any combustion engine requiring petrol. Shops are shuttered. No school. It's a free holiday.
Yoga and meditation classes are cancelled. Proceed at your own risk.
Happy kids ride their bikes. Up, down all around. They crash and burn. They laugh. They share guiding gliding secrets.
People stroll main street. They stare into deep dark caverns with vacant eyes. Shadows whisper, eat an apple.
Birds sing. The town's lone singing smiling mad minstrel serenades sweet tranquility.
Metta.
Namaste,
The Electric Fairy waved her magic wand. All the lights in Nepal went out.
Ha, ha laughed the Electric Fairy.
A business man with an Olive food joint in a small tourist town near a lake below Annapurna crammed with:
18,543 restaurants,
69.306 money changers,
456 trek clothing stores,
283 travel agents,
32 adventure companies,
19 boarding schools,
8,032 comatose, dulled out, dumbed down students
dreaming of better Indian educational/employment futures
27 female Tibetan refugees selling their recycled sidewalk dreams,
401 guesthouses,
8 dance halls,
1 jazz club,
3 supermarkets,
numerous mom & pop shoe string ops,
52 barber/massage shops,
9 bookstores,
6 bakeries,
85 wandering oxen,
3 tailors,
2 shoe repair experts,
1,208 anxious lost tourists,
and 50,001 bored residents with very short economic attention spans said,
I will buy a $15,000 gas generator to solve this energy conundrum.
When it ran out of gas the Electric Fairy laughed ha, ha, ha. Now you see it, now you don't.
Metta.
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