So as I walked today I thought about Jessica (my ex-girlfriend), whether/what are my feelings for her now, etc. I wondered at my lack of sexual fire (perhaps it is the backpack’s tight waistbelt?). I felt lazy all day and again I walked into Sete town freezing in the foggy mountain dusk. I am staying at the Sunrise Inn and writing now by candlelight. In front of me there is a broken clock, a bottle full of silk flowers (I am thinking about the excellent chocolate I have in my bag -better be excellent at 100 rupees a bar), a painting of Gautama Bhuddha in the “fear not-pose, two postcards leaning against the wall: one of Boudnath Stupa and another upside down one of another temple, a Nepali calendar with Nepali numbers, a framed photo of the Dalai Lama and another old guy together. Also sitting on the table is a thin paper notebook with my food & lodging offer scribbled on it: rara noodle, single bed, and hot water for 60 Rupees. I left Bandar late owing to my conversation with the English guy in the morning. I had to circle back uphill to the lodge after only 300 meters for my canteen left in the dining room. The English guy said “I didn’t know whether I should run after you or what-when I entered the room. “Run after me next time just to be safe-I thought. I ate mandarins at an orchard along the way about one hour before Kinja. The Chetri owner of the orchard, a shy man with a huge afro, greeted me and then climbed up the tree to pick 6 wonderful mandarins I bought from him for 10 rupees. I sat and had tea with him and his wife and dreamed about staying at this orchard and eating 50 mandarins each day. About 1.5 hours up from Kinja !BOOM! -I thought it was a mine nearby until I saw all the villages running out of their houses to look down into the valley. They stood around looking down at the police station consumed in smoke and orange flame and chatted knowingly with each other. I asked them what was up and they said -“Oh, it’s the police checkpoint. The Maoists have blown it up.- I continued on my way. Before reaching Sete my heavy bag was such a burden that I was tempted into a drawn out negotiating discussion with a passing porter about how much his services would be per day to carry some of my bag. Finally I refused and continued on alone. The purpose of this journal is to chronicle my state of mind: do I have anything to add? Well- - I think about my development a lot -wonder if reincarnation is true. Wonder if knowing about who or what I was in my past life matters (and if it does matter who can tell me about it?). Perhaps in my last life I had a lot of pain, was not attached to myself (since I have never felt a strong sense of “I am Jason Allen- . Note: I just noticed that the clock on the wall here is not broken -just not wound -they just wound and set it. A rooster’s head bobs with each tick of the clock and it was made in Shanghai and has a diamond logo on its face. Ok back to the heavy thinking: I wonder if in my past life I lived here in central Asia. I think I was surrounded by a big family. I also suffer from doubts about AM I “over the edge-as my parents seem to think? Am I getting too old? Am I letting my family down somehow? I worry about my mother’s health. I try to entertain myself with lewd songs and thoughts with ever-decreasing enthusiasm -only a shamed kind of smile. I also suffer from “what it the point-and I definitely suffer from “do I like trekking?- I TOOK TOO MUCH STUFF. Bag so heavy. Here is my Nepali lesson for the day (as taught to me by Prakas Raiho): Namche Jande Chu -I am going to Namche Dere gorung bari cho -the bag is very heavy Bishtareh, Bishtareh -slowly, slowly Mohongo -expensive Tadha -far Bomb -bomb Pahari chaoki -Police checkpost Maobadi -Maoist Tala -down Mathi -up Hanyo -shoot Bomble hanyo -shoot bomb Madanaha -noon Molai khana piru man parcha -I like spicy food Molai khana sasto man parcha -I like cheap food Baulaha -crazy Sakiyo -finished Bahilo palta Nepal aiko -it is my first time in Nepal