Nepal

Travelling in Nepal after India is like exhaling. Well, maybe not the actual travelling, as in moving from A to B, per se. The bus ride was hell. Midway through an eight hour bus ride on a seat made of the hardest wood found on earth, we stopped for lunch at a roadside cafe. I was the only non-Asian (this happens to me often, don't you think?), and was a bit confused on proper Nepali restaurant etiquette. I followed suit of the other passengers and took a seat at a corner table facing the action so I could copy the others. I didn't see a single menu, so I was thinking of possible food items available. I'm sure they had some popular Indian dishes, which after four weeks in India I am comfortable with, of the much-raved Nepali momos, a kind of dumpling. I waiter rushing past plopped a large sectioned metal tray in front of me filled with food. Thali, I think to myself. Thali is a large Indian dish made up of a mis of pulses that you mix with rice in the middle portion, then use chappati to scoop the food to your mouth. I was pleased, and waited only a few moments for the chappati to arrive until I realized everyone in the restaurant had already begun eating, sans chappati. While waiters moved around replenishing the pulses and rice until you are filled to the brim, people use their freshly washed hands (right hand only, of course. This is still South Asia) to scoop the scalding food into the rice, spin the rice into a somewhat manageable ball, and suck/slurp/scrape/dump the portion into their mouth, which hovers wisely over the palte. The whole hand is unavoidably covered in rice and sauce by the end of the meal. It was delicious, and I still have no idea what its called, of the animal who sacrificed himself for my eating pleasure. Im thinking yak, but Id rather not ponder it too long. Talk to you soon.