“Hey man, walk on the left side, it’s Nepal.”
I swiftly jump across two large puddles of water and three stray cats to get to the other side of the dirty road. My small backpack produces two light thumps as it hits my back. I’m trying to evade few rikshas and other random inhabitants of the noisy streets. My guide, the Nepali-guy-without-a-name (I’m sure he had one and that he even introduced himself to me, but I’m also sure that I immediately forgot his name) was wearing blue jeans with a red t-shirt and I had troubles to keep up the tempo with which he was cutting through the narrow side streets of Kathmandu.
Wait, why was I following this guy again?
I quickly list through my memories of the past 15 minutes and the only thing I could think of was a desperate feeling that I wanted to let the life flow for a second completely randomly, without too much meddling from my side.
And if you are a lonely white face in the middle of off-season in the absolute city center of Kathmandu, there is only one way how the life flows without too much meddling from your side – somebody asks you to follow him with the purpose of:
- Selling you some paintings in a tanka art gallery
- Selling you a trip to the jungle
- Selling you drugs
- Selling you all of the above one at a time
- Selling you all of the above at the same time
My guy started with approach 1. I was walking down a random street, he came straight up to me and started a barrage of descriptions about how beautiful one gallery there is and how I must come and see it.
I stopped the usual “No, thanks”, said a strict “No meddling” to myself, and agreed to follow him.
After a 5 minutes long walk (and skillfully evaded another 10 stray cats and 17 rikshas) I ended up in a small room, 5×3 meters, full of tanka paintings and one guy talking lengthily about how transcendent the expressions of different gods on the paintings are and how will they help me improve my life.
After 15 minutes of passive listening I thanked him , said that I arrived to Nepal 35 minutes ago and need to think about it, asked them politely for their business card, left, and never came back.
The Nepali-guy-without-a-name stopped me just when I was leaving the building – he switched from approach 1 to approach 3 and tried to sell me some drugs. I politely listened to his offer, and refused. No way I’m going to overpay a bit of pleasure that much – he must have made me extremely high first to pay him 10$ for a joint or 20$ for a gram of hash. Especially in a country when you can get noodles for lunch for 1.50$.
Just about when I plan to go the main square, I hear another voice behind me:
“Hey, Mister, first time in Nepal? Where are you from? Maybe you want a trip to the Himalayas perhaps?”
I really wanted to see the city centre and reclaim the control over my life, so I answered with a firm “Well, thank you, but no.”
“Well, Mister, now it’s off-season, so it would be extremely helpful, you know.”
“I still don’t want to go to the Himalayas.”
“Maybe just a short flight? Or a trip to Pokhara? We have really little tourists, the business is bad…”
I choose the same tactic as before: “Uhh… I really need to go now, but sure, give me your card and I might stop by.”
The guy is obviously not stupid, but smiles with a sad hint in his eyes and produces his business card.
“I will really give you a great price Mister!”
“Thank you. Goodbye.”
I understand that stopping by each and single person who asks me whether am I the first time in Nepal or where am I from would completely hinder my trip. I set-up my “busy ignorant tourist” face and start walking vigorously towards the main square.
The streets are completely fascinating – a mix of mango and papaya sellers, shoe shiners, dust, random guides, rikshas, people minding their own business, and remnants of the 2015 earthquake. Even though I slept only for 4 hours, I am enjoying the surge of energy coming from the possibility to discover a new place and breath a different type of air. I wonder what will the next week in this lovely place bring.