January 19, 2001 Kathmandu O my! – A GAP! Asleep at the wheel. Hopefully I chalk this period of journal inactivity up to experience gained.. Today I got up with two frenchies I met in the Kathmandu airport at our Icehouse Hotel room we paid too much for. We ate on a rooftop restaurant we entered following two girls we had seen in the bakery downstairs. Turns out by day’s end they are both married and 31 years old! We saw the monkey temple here in Kat. and it was incredible. High up and (from the postcards) when the air is clear it has a breathtaking Nepali Himalayan snowpeak range as backdrop. Many young boys stood around the main stupa (you know the one with the third eye of awareness in the middle of the forehead and the curly question-mark hair curl where the nose should be symbolizing direction. These boys spoke lots of English and enjoindered us to hire them as guides. Though we did not submit the youngsters that cam with us as “just students who want to practice English” all put the major squeeze on us for money when we left the temple. The two American girls from Montana were brave and they had a funny friend named Jeff (from Missouri in the US). He switched to our hotel at walk’s end. I found out that Vincent and Christophe (the two frenchies) met at the airport in Paris ( I thought they were longtime friends), one of the American girls had a baby and was also currently pregnant, two out of three samosas I ate along the way (samosas are deep fried pastries stuffed with curry, peas and potatoes) were good (and the guy who sold be the bad one did not even have sauce to give me!) and I learned good French from Christophe and Vincent. When we reached the hotel I spoked at hand-rolled French cigarette and talked to Jeff about something esoteric. I did much yoga on the roof and did my pitiful “Shaolin Hua” performance for a young hotel staff boiy named Ragu. He followed the sequence real-time exceptionally well. He also came up later to try the side crow asana. So we are supposed to meet the girls (actually I am alone now on the roof writing by the light under the water tank. The bulb gives off a yellow light) for dinner at 6:30 (they promised ‘authentic’ Nepali food but when I cam back at them with the question/cahallenge “ I want a place where Nepali people that don’t work there are eating!” they said “uh, I think there was some.”) and they think 100 rupees for a meal is the Neali price (uh-huh). We’ll see. Wow! what a crab-ass cynic I can be. Sophmoric! So yes, the kat. atmosphere is really quite seductive. Not electric in that same crisp way as the vibes of Cusco but darn rich and good at the same time. Kisses Nepal! So hopefully I will end up talking to one of the beauties I spied on the street today. Hanging out with married ladies is bunk, dude. Clear spirit: clarity. It has a sound like a hard-drive ringing. Hey, I think I am an actual hard-bell lying on the floor. Who else but me would do this? Ni une personne, mon ami. Big Mountain Highway ! Cheers! Signed Jason (I have to learn how to write Eye Her Ping in Chinese characters). Kathmandu - Friday, January 20, 2001 Early morning. Got up found Coleen on roof before sunrise 1 hr. Did yoga and created a lot of heat – mostly through my kung-fu routine. Tried to meditate with little success. Last night: went to a great restaurant with funny employees. One Nepali waiter repeatedly said “I am a disco dan-seerrr” and sang “Say You, Say Me” by Lionel Richie as the night progressed. Some young boys there played Nepali rythems on the drum (you put your legs through the strap to hold it steady) and broken tambourine. The boy nicknamed “Michael Jackson” had this crazy swivel head and neck dance movement he used. We drank a lot of Rakshi (a local spirit) and it BURNED. I was talking way too much again last night. Why am I so competitive? Can I not take more of a back seat and just observe? Note: last night the French guys mercilessly mocked the strong American accent I have when speaking French (mostly Vincent).