this is the truth:

i speak ten words of nepali, twenty if you count numbers, which i don't. until very recently, i thought nepal was basically india, but mellower. which was to say, watered down. i'm ashamed of that now. i don't actually understand what's happening here. oh, i've read books about nepal's history and i read the newspaper and i listen to people and i try to understand; i could even say a few things in a conversation on current events that would be "true," but they're not my truth. at the end of day, the protests going on now tell me which neighborhoods to avoid, and not much more. i often feel like a fake. i eat in too many ex-pat restuarants--not backpacker hang-outs, but this might be worse: places full of nicely dressed thirty somethings with real lives, real jobs, drinking red wine and eating green salads. they're doing good or they're doing harm. i'm not sure which i'm doing, if either.

the truth is, i'm a beginner and it's hard to start over. "you speak nepali?" people ask me, without fail, everyday. "no," i tell them. "i speak tibetan." which is irrelevant. the answer should simply be "no." or really, the answer should be this: no, but i love your country. i don't know it well--i acually don't know it at all--but i can't tell you how much i want to know it. no, i don't speak your language, but i think i could learn it if i tried, and i don't feel that way about most languages. i think i can HEAR it. and no, i don't know my way around this city, but i go somewhere alone--somewhere new--almost everyday, and sometimes i get overwhelmed and occasionally i get lost, and almost always i find myself in endlessly thick traffic, cursing myself for ever leaving patan, but i do it again the next day. do i miss india? yes, a lot. does being here remind me of the tiny bits and pieces of of south asia i DO know? less and less everyday.

and i wouldn't it out loud, but this is true, too: i have a favorite neighorhood street dog. he's short, muscular, and his ears stand up in two wide triangles. he's old but he's healthy, and he has a friendly face. i look for him near the stupa when i leave my apartment in the morning. i know almost exactly where he'll be. it isn't much, it's almost nothing--but it's a start.