I returned to Nepal late Monday evening after an epic 32 hours travelling from Melbourne through Singapore and Delhi after a hectic few weeks finishing up work,putting my life into boxes and selling off everything else. Since my arrival I have been feeling the upheaval that is intrinsic to selling up and relocating to another country. The things we do to follow our dreams…the emotional components of such a move cannot be underestimated. Suddenly I find myself exactly where I want to be, to do exactly what I want and the magnitude of it feels scary. Right but scary.
Therefore my first few days here have been slow, while my body recovers from the 3o plus odd hours of flying and transit, and while I emotionally get to grips with leaving behind the stability of conventional life in Australia. There have been some emotional moments, and while I mean to predominantly write as a journalist and cover issues and stories I don’t feel my personal experiences as part of some stories takes away from that premise. I feel it adds to it. I am not a writer whom believes in the objective observer, in fact I vehemently deny it. What I experience and where I am adds to the fabric of the stories I will cover and what I discover here. But obviously alongside sound journalistic practice.
Journalistic objectivity rant over.
So here I am.
I arrived from the airport to be greeted by my favourite Kathmandu dog, Baba, waiting in the alleyway for me. How did he know I would be arriving? But bloody lovely none the less.That wagging tail and bounding hello put such a smile on my face. Since Tuesday I have been drowning myself in sweet cups of dut chai ( milk tea) while scoffing veg momo’s with alarming amounts of achar ( pickle) between epic naps and little wanders to meet up with friends and reconnect with this city I love.
The government’s road re-surfacing and widening campaign – thanks to Chinese funds – continues making certain parts of the city profoundly dusty with all my clothes taking on a shade which I am now calling infrastructure improvement brown. All the tourists this high season are wearing it so for once I am on point fashion wise. But the sky has been remarkably clear for this time of year and from my guesthouse rooftop I have sat and stared with barely contained glee as the moon rises over the Himalayas. A sight so beautiful it is hard to comprehend let alone express.
So yes, here I am. My life in Australia packed into one box,a bag and generously being looked after by friends back in Melbourne. And everything I need in a backpack.
I now carry my life….it is up to me.