The Wedding!

Alcohol was consumed, barbecue was eaten, and somewhere in the middle of it, Jim found the time to get married ... a good time was had by all!

Gado gado, anyone?

Fun facts about cooking and eating in Bali:

1. Children start learning to cook at age seven.

2. Women are responsible for the daily cooking duties. However, men must cook on ceremonial days.

3. All Balinese dishes attempt to balance the four flavors – sweet, sour, salty and spicy. Seasonings are mixed and ground into a paste, using a mortar and pestle.

4. Balinese women cook once daily, in the morning; throughout the day, family members can help themselves from covered dishes set out in the kitchen when they become hungry. Thus, most Balinese dishes are traditionally served at room temperature.

5. Balinese people eat in silence. Talking during meals “kills the spirit” of the food.

6. Only one onion – the small red shallot – is used in Balinese dishes.

7. Most families do not own refrigerators, and shop for fresh food in the market daily.

8. Ideally, coconut oil is used in all Balinese dishes. However, coconut oil must be made fresh; after five days or so, it starts increasing in cholesterol.

9. There are about eight varietals of eggplant in Bali, but most dishes use the young white eggplant.

10. Rice is cooked by soaking, boiling, steaming, boiling a second time, and steaming again – the entire process takes approximately one hour.

Singapore

It was something of a struggle, but I finally made it to Singapore! This business trip has been in the works for weeks, but problems kept arising, and reservations kept being delayed and cancelled ... I was beginning to think I wouldn't make it at all, but instead flew up Saturday afternoon for a full day of tourist-ing before getting back to work Monday morning.

The trip definitely started off a bit bumpy. My flight reservations had been made in a rush Friday afternoon, and I had been given a 1-page itinerary, which I assumed signaled an electronic ticket. Arriving at the Singapore Air counter, however, I learned otherwise - my booking indicated that a paper ticket was required, and if I didn't have one, I would be required to purchase a second ticket. I tried to call the travel service we use, but got a busy signal. Finally, after being told that a new one-way business class ticket would cost me over U.S.$1000, I got through. I expected to be told, "This is an e-ticket! Let me talk to the Singapore Air agent!" Instead, the man on the other end of the line said, "Yes, this is a paper ticket. Are you at the counter? I'll get it there in five minutes."

It turns out my ticket was being kept by the airport management office, and sure enough, less than five minutes later it was delivered to me and I was successfully processed. It would have been valuable information to get before arriving at the airport, but no harm done! I made it through immigration and security, found a bookstore and a Starbucks, and boarded with the other lucky business class passengers for my first non-economy flight EVER.

Singapore Air, as it turns out, has been rated the best business class in the world, with fully flat beds and everything. It was PRETTY FREAKING SWEET. I had complimentary champagne before take-off, a television screen larger than the one on my laptop, and a tablecloth covering my tray-table. Even the business class pillows are better than those in economy! I actually found myself regretting that the flight wasn't longer!

Upon landing, I was greeted on the gangplank by (I'm assuming) a hotel representative. She drove me to immigration in one of those airport carts, got me processed by the manager of immigration without waiting in line, and then took me out to my waiting car. The Ritz knew who I was when I pulled up, and it was less than five minutes before I made it up to my 30th floor suite. It was late enough that I didn't bother exploring, instead curling up in my super-comfy bed and falling asleep.

It was hard to choose what should be done in my one day of vacation. I've talked to a number of people about things to see, and everyone recommended the Night Safari, which obviously can't be done during the day. In the end, I decided my top priority was the Botanic Gardens ... I haven't seen too much nature this summer, and was excited for the opportunity.

The gardens were BEAUTIFUL (pictures are up in another post), and I whiled away quite a long time there. It seems a popular spot for picnics and weekend relaxing - admission is free, and the grounds are spacious and well-groomed. While Singapore is just as humid as Hong Kong, the air is cleaner and thus less oppressive ... I haven't seen people this happy to be outside in Hong Kong!!

Afterwords, I came back to the real world and explored the surrounding shopping malls. Singapore, like Hong Kong, seems to be FILLED with shopping! The main shopping area is actually Orchard Road, which I drove down but didn't check out. Instead, I stuck to the six shopping malls within walking distance of my hotel. I was well-behaved, and bought nothing, but browsed extensively and also caught a showing of The Simpsons Movie, which doesn't come out in Hong Kong until I leave.

After dinner, I tried to focus on re-reading some documents I need to have down for work, but the sound of music coming from the marina distracted me, so I wandered down to the waterfront. August 9th is National Day, and in preparation, the city has (among other things) set up a free concert series. Tonight is the last night, a young local rock band with a pretty decent sound. Now, with me back in my hotel room, the band is still going strong, but I should get some sleep. Tomorrow, the vacation ends - I hope the work is half so interesting!

Singapore Botanic Gardens

Lantau

This past weekend, after my intense bout of Harry Potter reading, I and my fellow summer associates were invited to visit the home of Sam, a personal assistant at Cleary who has a home on Lantau. Few people live on Lantau, because of the 30-minute commute and the "rustic" nature of the island, but it's largely undeveloped and beautiful, and so a popular weekend destination. We were lucky enough to get the best of both worlds - a bicycle tour of the most beautiful sights and an afternoon relaxing and playing pool at Sam's wonderful home.

Sam and her husband Dave met us at the ferry, where we rushed off the ferry with hundreds of other leisure-seekers. Lantau is mainly a bike island, especially in the town of Mui Wo - in fact, we were greeted first with the sight of hundreds of bikes parked at the peer. After a couple of drinks at the China Bear to start off the afternoon, we went and rented our own. It'd been quite awhile since I'd ridden a bike, but I acquitted myself fairly well - no new scars to add to the collection!

We first had lunch at a local outdoor Chinese restaurant - dish after dish of delicious, authentic noodles and vegetables and seafood. I've been on something of an eggplant binge since I've been in Hong Kong, and order it at every restaurant possible. Fortunately, this place didn't disappoint! The restaurant was also filled with cats, who seemed clean, well-fed, and not at all destined to show up in our fried rice.

(Just to be safe, I avoided the chicken.)

Next, we biked over to Sam and Dave's place. It was a lovely 15 minute ride through a local village center, along concrete paths, and to the very end of the road. In fact, the house is only accessible by foot or bike, which is especially amazing when trying to imagine how the pool table made it up! Unlike a lot of people on Hong Kong Island, Sam and Dave have a large garden filled with beautiful flowers, grass, and papaya trees. The house was older, and had been redecorated some since Sam and Dave moved in ... however, the tiny and amazing tilework was authentic Hong Kong. Dave had made a lot of the doors and furniture himself, Sam did some painting, and altogether they created a welcoming home!

We played a few games of Killer (basically, the pool game of Horse), which I quickly and effectively lost, and spent some time smothering their poor dog, Fluffy. After relaxing a bit from the oppressive heat, however, it was time to be the tourists that we are! So we packed up some water and beer, hopped back on our bikes, and rode back through town.

Our next stop was a beautiful waterfall. Sam and Dave grumbled about its recent inclusion on tourist maps and in guidebooks, and I must admit there were more people there than I'd like, but we clambered over wet, moss-covered boulders to a waterfall in the back, where wiser people dared not tread, and were mainly left alone. Hong Kong is VERY hot, and this was the first any of us have been able to play around in the water all summer - water fights and waterfall showers ensued, of course, and we all had a great time.

Finally, though, it was time to climb out ... I managed to slip and fall on the way, but as I was already soaking wet, it was far from problematic. Next was a "silver mine," which Sam warned us wasn't much to look at (it wasn't), but first a 10 or 15 minute hike up a mountain path. By the time we reached the mine, my calves were aching, but Sam claims that some people make that walk EVERY DAY! (We did pass houses even past the silver mine, so I guess she must be telling the truth.)

The best part of the day wasn't the specific sights we saw - like I said, the silver mine wasn't all that spectacular - but the experience of getting out in nature again. Hong Kong Island is so shiny and sterile, and while I love it, I often miss the green - but Lantau is nothing BUT green! We saw animals, huge banana spiders (not my favorite, but so cool looking), and plants galore ... and it was amazing to breathe fresh air for a change, even if it was still at 85% humidity or some such nonsense.

After hiking for awhile for an awesome view of the harbor, we decided that the sun and the walking had gotten the best of us, and went back down the side of the mountain. One last bike ride, and we were back in town, for a lovely Italian dinner, some fabulous conversation, and then the fast ferry back to the Island. An exhausting, exhilarating day, and an awesome opportunity to see the other side of Hong Kong.

Macau

Best known as a smaller, seedier Las Vegas, Macau is a Special Autonomous Region (like Hong Kong) about an hour's ferry ride away from here. Even without the gambling, though - Macau casinos are notoriously high-stake, and the summer associate budget doesn't cover slot machines - Macau definitely has a day's worth of distractions to keep your average summer associates busy. Thus, every batch of summer associates is given the option of joining Robert, one of our senior counsel, on a day-trip to the island for a few hours of sight-seeing, a few hours of eating, and 20 high-adrenaline minutes of go-kart racing!

The day started off too early - not only were we to meet in the Macau ferry terminal before 9:00 AM on Saturday (most of us having gotten back from Harry Potter rather late the night before), but I arrived just too late to stop at the Starbucks for some much-needed caffeine. By the time we hit Macau, however, excitement had set in, and I was set for energy - for a few hours, at least.

The last trip Robert had organized, he'd hired a bus and driver ahead of time, but with such a small group, he figured we could just pick up one of the drivers/vans that hang around the ferry terminal for groups just like our own. We found a driver quickly enough, and piled into a poorly air-conditioned van to visit the Macau Tower. The tower was awesome - one of the tallest buildings in the world, at least according to its own propaganda materials - and the viewing deck on the 58th floor had glass panels inset into the floor so excited tourists could get their pictures taken, seemingly floating in midair. Of course, years of scuffing have made the effect less miraculous, but it was still novel enough to set entire tour groups (including seemingly dignified 60-year-old Japanese men) squealing with excitement and pounding on the glass. Why anyone would want to be known as the person who fell to their death after knocking out a glass panel is beyond me, but whatever makes them happy, I guess ...

After the Tower, we stopped by a lovely church (Macau was a Portuguese colony until the handover in the late 1990's, so there's amazing European architecture everywhere), where one of Robert's daughters was baptized, and then trekked down the road to visit an old government building. It was formerly a barrack for visiting Portuguese troops, and while it doesn't seemed to be used for much these days, it's still quite heavily guarded.

Next was a great Chinese temple (sort of a non-denominational church, both Buddhists and Confucionists worship there), and then a maritime museum, set up where the Portuguese first landed on Macau. I'm not a huge museum fan, or a huge maritime enthusiast, but I do enjoy air-conditioning, so it was a welcome break indeed!

Then it was time for lunch, at a well-known Portuguese restaurant. We left to Robert the job of ordering, and wound up with a delicious spread of chorizo, clams, a rice and chicken dish, fish, and some pork neck concoction I refused to touch. Closing the meal out with a nice glass of iced coffee, for energy, and a glass of port, because we could, we prepared for the next branch of our trek.

The afternoon sights included this old Catholic church, that is now a perfectly beautiful facade and nothing else (kind of like the standard Wild West Hollywood set), a great fortress with a view over the city, the Macau museum (highlight: an exhibit about the now-dead sport of fighting crickets), and then a walk down a winding cobblestone roadway through a shopping district (or, as one associate described it, "the snack road") into a beautiful, European-designed square.

Then it was out to a lovely little village on one of the smaller Macau islands, where we had famous Lord Stowe's egg tarts as an afternoon snack, and then the go-kart track. I had no idea that go-karts were traditional Macau - in fact, they very likely aren't - but it was a popular place. There was even another law firm summer associate event happening there! Most of us enjoyed ourselves immensely, and I managed to spin out twice (once was fairly harmless, but the second time I wound up facing backwards on the side of the track, buried in tires used to stop crazy drivers like myself - it was pretty awesome), so a good time was had by all.

At that point, sweaty and sticky, we were kind of tourist-ed out - luckily, it was time for dinner! We checked out another Portuguese restaurant that Robert had heard good things about. The food again was delicious, but most of us had lost the energy even to eat, and the table was still piled high with food when we threw in the towel, hopped back in our van, and returned to the ferry terminal for the ride back to Hong Kong.

Despite the oppressive heat and humidity, the crappy van that couldn't drive up hills without us getting out and walking (seriously), and one associate who seemed less than enthusiastic about being there, it was an awesome day. And if I ever feel the need to drop thousands of dollars in a casino, I know where I'm going!

The Office

Since work is what brings me to Hong Kong in the first place, it only seems fair to devote a bit of time talking about the office, the people, and maybe even the job itself.

The best way to describe Cleary HK right now is "quiet." This is for a few different reasons. First, our Beijing office has only been open for a couple of years - prior to that, Cleary HK had big China and Korea practices. (We can't practice Hong Kong law, as regulations require 40% of our lawyers to be Hong Kong qualified to do so, and since most of our associates are here on 2-3 year rotations, they're all UK or US qualified instead.) But now, much of the China work is done in Beijing, and so many of the China associates have transferred to that office, or at minimum alternate between the two (office maps of Beijing and Hong Kong have many of the same names). Second, Hong Kong in the summer is kind of miserable, so for those people who live here year-round, this is the time to take some of the generous vacation time Cleary provides. Third, because we don't do Hong Kong work, there are always a handful of people out on business trips to Korea, Singapore, Taiwan, wherever. (In fact, there are associates who travel to some destinations so often they store suits at their hotels!) And finally, because of the nature of the work we do here (a lot of corporate stuff), the quantity of work tends to ebb and flow with the fiscal year, which means there were some pretty pressing deadlines at the end of June, and things have just started easing off.

Fortunately, that doesn't mean I'm lacking for cool people! My mentor is pretty awesome, and always up for a slightly childish adventure (Harry Potter, fireworks, etc.). Some of the other associates are likewise always eager for dinner or drinks, and even the partners seem very friendly and open (although obviously rarely raring for a night out on the town with us). In fact, one of the Cleary HK counsel is taking us on a day trip to Macau tomorrow, which promises to be a load of fun.

In terms of the work I'm doing, I have to admit it's pretty slow. However, that doesn't mean I have NOTHING to do. Currently, I'm assisting on two matters, one of which looks like it will develop into a business trip to Singapore! The trip will be awesome, although the work I'll be doing there won't be as much fun (mainly reviewing a bunch of documents) - but I'd never turn down a chance to travel! And, although we're having some coordination difficulties at the moment, it looks like I'll be able to spend a week in the Beijing office as well! That'll give me a chance to see a couple of the big China sights, like the Great Wall and the Forbidden Palace, and to try out my Mandarin skills (granted, they currently encompass nothing more impressive than "What is your name?", "I am from America", and "I would very much like some coffee", but at least I'm trying).*

All in all, Cleary HK is a decent place to work - maybe it's not as exciting as Cleary DC was, but the lack of work-related excitement can be more than made up for by the exotic locale, and the view out of my office window alone keeps reminding me that I'm in a pretty exciting place.

*The local language in Hong Kong is actually Cantonese, not Mandarin, but Cleary offers Mandarin and Korean lessons, as those are the major business languages. Since most people in Hong Kong speak English, it makes a fair amount of sense to do it that way.

I'm so excited!!!

I'm headed to Harry Potter TONIGHT, and everyone should be amazed that I waited as long as I did! Even managed to make a Cleary event out of it (I guess my enthusiasm is infectious ... or scary).

Hong Kong skyline - more to come, I promise.

Oh, right, I'm in CHINA (sort of)!

Hong Kong is an easy city to live in. Whatever the reason - it's something of a "chicken and the egg" question (does the convenience bring ex-pats, or do ex-pats breed convenience?), combined with the obvious fact of long-time British rule - the city is just Western enough, just clean enough, just safe enough that people like myself have no problem getting around.

Of course, that sterilization can make you forget sometimes that you are in fact in China (sort of). Fortunately, not all of Hong Kong is as new and shiny as Central, where I live and work. In fact, some of it is actually, well, Chinese.

I'd been longing for a new digital camera, and despite the fact that electronics really aren't much cheaper here any longer, I finally broke down and decided to buy a new one (the catalyst was the fact that my flash bulb had burned out on the old one while in Nepal, and I had little time, energy, or motivation to get it replaced). I had asked Paul, a co-worker, where to go, and he'd suggested that I have his boyfriend take me shopping. Paul and Derek have been around for over a year, and Derek is actually a photographer himself, meaning he knows where to go and how to bargain, not to mention substantially more than I do about cameras generally speaking.

Paul and Derek live in Wan Chai (read: not Central), and Derek had me meet him there for lunch at his favorite Thai restaurant to provide much-needed energy for shopping. Wan Chai is a much more middle class, residential area than Central, a fact that struck me as soon as I got out of my cab, and that was driven home by the round-about route we took to the restaurant. Turning down a side street, Derek explained that he wanted to walk us through the Wan Chai market, a local market more akin to those I saw in Cairo than the shopping I'd been doing in Hong Kong. The next thing I knew, we were sidling through a barber shop into a back alley, then turning down an alley way filled with suspiciously fishy puddles and into a butcher's shop. We walked past vendors selling hot steamed buns (filled with meat, red bean paste, lotus, you name it), steamed pork, live chickens, fresh eggplant, incense, traditional red wedding cards, and anything else the average Hong Kong local might need on a Tuesday afternoon. Jason, another summer associate who had joined us for lunch, stared longingly at the food vendors - he spent his first nine years in China, and was craving some "local" food. However, Derek was adamant about this Thai restaurant, and it had made it into a "tip sheet" compiled by former summer associates, so we dutifully followed in his wake.

Finally, we arrived at the restaurant, which happened to be in the back of a store. As we walked in, a woman behind a desk in the back (apparently recognizing Derek, who is likely the only tall bald white guy to ever enter the building) stood up, shook her head, and said, "No, no! Closed!" in a mournful voice. The communications were sketchy at best, but it turns out the restaurant we had been hoping to dine at had just been closed down for operating without a license. The letter she handed Derek in explanation was actually a summons to court.

Now THAT is authentic.

Thus thwarted, we ended up eating at a won ton noodle joint in the neighborhood, another of Derek and Paul's favorites. We sat down on multi-colored plastic stools at a table with a bottle of hot sauce and a can of chopsticks, and Derek ordered "three, big." A few short minutes later, our table was laden with three large bowls of noodles and fat shrimp won tons (dumplings). The food was delicious, the restaurant was authentic (I would have been laughed out of the shop if I'd asked for American utensils, and the door was actually a thick sheet of plastic hanging from the frame), and together with a bowl of greens and three drinks, we paid a whopping HK$61, which comes out to under US$8. Derek reminisced fondly on the days when he and Paul first started eating there, and the large bowls were only HK$11 each (inflation has bumped them up to HK$12, but business is still booming). A far cry from the ritzy meals in air conditioned hotel restaurants that we've been consuming thus far, and a nice change of pace. Of course, I couldn't eat like that every day - my lack of chopstick expertise would be an incredibly efficient weight-loss system!

After lunch, Jason went back to work and Derek and I trekked across Wan Chai to the Computer Centre, a two story "mall" filled with nothing but electronics shops - cameras, computers, cell phones and the like. But there wasn't a Best Buy or Circuit City in sight. Rather, these stores were tiny, each the size of a small bedroom, with one or two men standing behind a counter and the walls covered with glass display cases. Bargaining was minimal, as most items have marked prices (and if they don't, red flags should be raised), but in the end I got a nice Canon digital camera (the Japanese version, which means if it breaks, I have to mail it to Tokyo to get a warrantied repair), a huge memory stick and a back-up battery for a pretty decent price. And what the store lacked in super-store guarantees and selection, it more than made up in sheer local charm - unlike every shopping center I've been to in Central, this place didn't have a white person in sight. (Well, other than us.)

Before sending me back to the office, Derek insisted we stop to get dessert at a local chain. We had to order by pointing to the sign and signaling "two", but in the end we wound up with delicious mango drinks with sago and coconut, and excellent mango mochi, which I'd always thought only came in ice cream form (you learn something new every day!).

Afterwards, Derek refused to let me flag a cab, instead insisting that I take the trolley, which runs directly in front of the Bank of China Tower. Thus, another local experience - we went and bought an Octopus card, which is a rechargeable card good for all public transportation, and usable at a lot of local shops and restaurants (including Starbucks!) as well, and then he told me how to get on the trolley and off I went. I must admit, it was kind of an adventure, and HK$2 for a ride back to work beats the HK$15 minimum cab fare any day! Of course, nervous I'd miss my stop, I got off two stops early, but I have few complaints - even though I'm comfortable and happy in my ex-pat neighborhoods, it's good to know that I am in fact in Asia, and there's still a place for me to buy smoked fatty pork off the street, if I so desire.

First Impressions

I was struck with a bout of nervousness when I found my driver in the airport. He was standing there with a sign that said "CGSH/Miss Teale" and didn't speak a lick of English. Taking one of my bags, we headed outside, where I was struck with a wave of heat and humidity, and then he left me by the curb to bring around the car. Suddenly, I was struck with flashbacks of Egypt, and a similar airport pick-up - my hopes for this summer adventure mainly revolve around things that happened in Egypt that I would like NOT to happen again, including the nasty housing situation that awaited me at the end of the ride from the airport.

My fears were totally unfounded. After a short wait, the driver came around the corner - in an air conditioned Mercedes, unlike the Cairo 1960's taxi for hire - and loaded my bags into the trunk, rather than attaching them to the roof with bungee cords. Definitely off to a better start! And once we were on the road, only one thought was running through my mind - "This is as unlike Cairo as it could possibly be."

The best description I can think of for Hong Kong is that it's kind of like a jungle, with a slightly futuristic city coincidentally stuck in the middle of it. It's lush and green - thanks to the ridiculous rainfall and humidity - and the buildings are tall, shiny, and often impossibly designed. (In fact, my own office building - the Bank of China tower - is one of these controversial architectural experiments.) The islands, including Hong Kong Island, are insanely hilly, so nature and civilization are impossibly mixed, the roads are narrow and steep, and there are stairway alley shortcuts and overhead pedestrian walkways everywhere you look.

It's pretty freaking cool.

My "serviced apartment" is halfway between a dorm room and a hotel room, small but with a kitchenette and a huge window. The controversial shower - billed on the website as a "funky cubist" shower from which you can "watch satellite TV" - is actually glass-walled, so that you can see from the shower into the rest of the room (yes, including the TV), and the bathroom is painted lime green. There could be more storage space, or more space generally speaking, but considering the shortage of space in Hong Kong, I'm finding very little to complain about - again, a far cry from the apartment I was delivered to that fateful first day in Cairo. (The photos above are the view from my apartment window.)

Soon after I arrived, I met up with my Hong Kong Cleary mentor, Young, to head over to the office and view the Handover Day fireworks (Handover Day, 7/1, being the day that Hong Kong was returned to China by the British). The office building is INSANELY cool, and I got a chance to see my office and wander around. At our level, the building is a triangle, so there are crazy angles and weird hallways, but I love it, and there's some pretty spectacular artwork for me to appreciate on those not-so-busy days. The fireworks were pretty spectacular, too - first, fireworks were set off from the tops of a bunch of the skyscrapers (including ours, although we obviously couldn't see them), something that apparently takes place every couple of weeks. Then, from four boats in the harbor, the real show started. I don't have such faith in my writing abilities that I'll attempt to describe the fireworks display - it's sufficient to say that I don't feel like I'm missing out on the Fourth of July anymore.

Afterwards, Young and I came back to pick up Jason and Jonathan, the other summer associates rotating through Hong Kong right now. They'd landed just too late to come see the fireworks, but Young wanted to take us all out to dinner. We went to a Thai restaurant nearby, where I had some delicious food and unnecessary mothering - Young kept dishing up our food and making sure no one needed anything, something I'm sure my mom will feel better knowing - and then it was back to the building for some much-needed rest.

I'm unpacked - although I need to go ask for some extra hangers - and settled in, and soon I'm off to find myself some food, some money, and maybe even a phone. Today is a public holiday - the day off to go with Handover Day, which fell on a Sunday this year - so I have a day to get adjusted and spend some time relaxing. And tomorrow morning, it's into the office for us, and the holiday ends.

It's shaping up to be a pretty good six weeks.

The Misadventures of Teale

This trip did NOT get off to a good start. Considering the circumstances - I needed to pack my entire apartment, decide what to bring and what to leave behind (and where to leave it), and run all of my pre-trip errands while still working full-time and saying goodbye to all of my friends - I suppose it was pretty obvious that not EVERYTHING could go smoothly, but I can always hope, right?

Sure, but apparently, it does little to no good. I managed to get everything taken care of, and Friday night (my flight out of DC was at 10:00 AM Saturday morning), after one last dinner with friends, I headed to the ATM to get some cash to travel with, looking forward to a full night's sleep before the trip. Alas, such was not to be - instead, I got to the ATM, pulled out my wallet, and discovered there was no ATM card to be found! Anyone who travels knows that a missing ATM card is a pretty big deal - there's something slightly unsettling about the idea of leaving the country without having access to my bank account, especially considering how long I'll be out of the country.

But I calmed myself down, and figured I'd just left it at home - after all, I'd changed purses that afternoon. But once I'd made it back to my clean/packed apartment, searched my other purse, clothes I'd been wearing the previous day, and anywhere else I could think of, panic started to set in. "Okay," I thought, "I'll just have to bite the bullet and order a new card."

I won't waste your time with the agonies involved in that - three hours and tons of phone calls later, I had the promise of a card being delivered to my Hong Kong residence on Tuesday, and another replacement being shipped to my secretary in DC, who could then use our inter-office "pouch" delivery system to get it over to me. My hero Ken Moon walked like a mile and a half at 12:30 at night to loan me some cash, to tide me over until one or the other card is delivered, and all was right with the world. I was ready to start my trip!

Of course, the transit wasn't great either - a two-hour delay due to a "conflict over Russian airspace" (coolest reason for a delay I've ever gotten!), and a kicking three-year-old and his airsick mother sitting behind me on the plane - but after my return trip from Nepal, which took 47 hours and included nine hours sitting on the tarmac in New York with nothing to eat but Worcestershire-flavored pretzels, other travel agonies have definitely been put into perspective. And finally, I arrived in Hong Kong! My driver was waiting outside of customs, and my adventure was off and running.

Five Days and Counting ...

Here I sit, in my Washington, DC apartment, 6.5 weeks into my summer job. I've been working as a "law clerk" (a.k.a. "summer associate") at a prestigious international law firm, which is, I've decided, the sweetest job in the world. Firms like mine hire most of their lawyers directly out of law school - laterals (attorneys with previous experience at other firms) are rarely hired, so those law students who want to work at firms hope and pray to get a good summer gig for their second summer of law school. Assuming all goes well, the summer ends with a full-time job offer, and at least those law students who intend to spend their lives in law firms are set.

Although I don't want to spend my life at a firm - I still have some of those pesky human rights interests preventing me from settling down - I would love a few years of experience, and so decided my 2L summer should be spent at a firm, if any would have me. I happened to be hired by the firm dubbed my "long shot" by my (oh so supportive) roommate when the interviewing process started, and I couldn't be happier. The work is mainly interesting, the people are great, and summer associates are treated like absolute royalty. The summer is mainly one big recruiting process, especially at my firm, where selective interviewing means the firm genuinely hopes that all summer associates accept full-time offers. Thus, to ensure we get an idea of what the firm is "really like" - and thus, whether or not we'll fit - socialization with associates is strongly encouraged. To that end, pretty much everything a summer associate does with a full-time associate can be billed to the firm, including decadent lunches every day and drinks out as often as we'd like. Further, the firm plans amazing events for the summers - and interested attorneys - including trips to the theatre, tours of the city on Segway scooters, and even a day spent learning to sail. In fact, just today, the firm rented out an entire country club for a "firm outing," to which all attorneys and staff members were invited.

By far the best perk, however, is the opportunity for summer associates to rotate through one of the firm's dozen or so foreign offices. Some are more or less popular than others, or have language requirements, or focus on one or another area of law. The upshot: different summers with different interests request different offices, and at least the DC office generally succeeds in placing all interested summers in a foreign office for a six-week rotation.

Anyone who knows anything about me clearly knows that I fall into the "interested summers" category. Because of my weakness in any relevant foreign language (I'm only even a little proficient in Spanish, but we have no offices in Spain), my options were somewhat restricted, but I got my first choice placement, for which I will be leaving this Saturday morning.

I am going to Hong Kong.

And I couldn't be more excited. My firm has arranged my housing, in a building of funky serviced apartments where I'll have satellite television in my shower and the best nightlife areas a brief walk or cab ride away. Both my apartment and my office are in Central, on Hong Kong Island, and I've even been told we'll probably take a day/weekend trip to nearby Macau. Hong Kong itself is a fascinating mix of commercial activity and traditions, and as far as I can tell, it will be more than sufficient to keep me busy for a month and a half. And, as if things weren't already sweet enough, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (the fifth movie) will be released in Hong Kong simultaneous with the US release, so I'm not missing a thing!

Although I'll be significantly busier this summer than last - I now work for an employer that actually values my contribution (or at the very least, my potential future contribution) - I hope to keep this blog updated every few days, or at least with most of my stories. Much love to everyone, and wish me luck on this, my next grand adventure!

Day 9: Wedding Day #3

Now that Bishakha was married, the only thing left was to send her away, in a ceremony my friend Neema calls "the kiss and cry." Basically, everyone gathers in front of the house, and the groom's family comes and takes the bride away as her family stays there and watches. It doesn't sound fun, and it wasn't - Sandeep and Bishakha were taking a horse-drawn carriage to Sandeep's Grandmother's house, and the receding monsoon rains had softened the roads enough that they were delayed about a half-hour. All that time, Bishakha sat in a chair in front of her mother, father, and brother, who all tried very hard not to start crying. Her father (subtly) broke down a couple of times, but finally the carriages arrived, and the wedding procession paraded through the streets - the band, then the carriages, then a few cars following behind (Bishakha had said Bonu and I would ride in the carriages with her, but the driver absolutely refused, saying it was against tradition, so we took a dry, non-smelly car instead).

Once we arrived at Sandeep's home, there were a few more ceremonies - blessings aside, the best was a game between Bishakha and her mother in law. Both kneeled on the floor, on either sides of a huge bowl filled with some sort of grain, and a few tokens (money, coins, a ring) - the bowl was upended in a tray, and the two women fight to be the first to find these items. The tradition emerged as a way to determine which woman would be dominant in the household (since brides traditionally move in with the groom's parents); although it doesn't work that way anymore, I still rooted for Bishakha!

Afterwards, we were finally allowed to escape - Bishakha, Sandeep, Bhothu, Bonu and I went to relax in the newlywed's room for a few minutes. The festivities had even extended this far - the bed was decorated with garlands, and a heart of flowers on the bed cover was filled with the inscription "B + S". Sandeep was embarrassed, but he'd threatened to decorate all the cars in like fashion, so I think this was a fair compromise!

We had yet another reception, eating yet another buffet lunch in yet another tent, sitting on yet more folding chairs. Creepy uncle was still creepy, too, but I sat with Bishakha's father to deflect most of the creepiness. After the lunch, Bonu and I went to our separate homes, leaving Bishakha to her new life.

I had planned on getting some school work done that afternoon, assuming I'd be left alone, but I think Bishakha's parents were afraid that I would get bored or lonely, because I didn't get a moment of peace! Samar, the young cousin, came home with me, and we talked and watched TV for hours. Finally, he left and I got a bit of work done, but then Bhothu came over for awhile - we watched a movie, had a drink, and then he had to get home. As soon as he left, Bishakha's brother came up to see that I was okay, and find out what I wanted for breakfast the next morning. By then, it was almost 10 and nearing my bedtime, especially with a threatened power outage, and very little work had been done.

Giving up, I went downstairs to say goodnight to Bishakha's parents. Her father cried - this was a nightly ritual for Bishakha, their baby, and wouldn't be anymore - but they were happy to have me around (a poor substitute, it's true, but a substitute all the same!). Reassuring them that I had all of the company, food, drinks, and everything else I could possibly want, I headed back upstairs to get a good night's sleep.

Day 8: Wedding Day #2

Starting today, each morning for the rest of my trip dawned rainy, clearing up by late morning. According to Bishakha, these are the "receding monsoons," which are somehow different (less severe?) than regular monsoons; all I know is that rain on the wedding day was not, to me, a good sign. However, Bishakha's aunts told her that wedding-day rain is a good sign - hard to say if this is yet another tradition different from my own, or if it was just her aunts trying to make her feel better about having a rainy wedding day.

Today was the day for me to dress up. Bishakha was determined that I get the royal treatment, so we both had our hair done by a professional stylist who came to the house, one of Bishakha's friends did my make-up for me (after I put on eyeliner I considered "heavy" only to be asked if I was planning to put any eyeliner on ...), and I donned a gorgeous hand-embroidered sari Bishakha designed and ordered especially for me. I wasn't sure about the outfit - I was deathly afraid I would step on a hem and have it all fall off - but I certainly looked amazing by the time these people were done with me! These people know their stuff!

The formal "engagement" took place mid-day. As we put the finishing touches on the bride, suddenly, from Bishakha's room, we heard the sound of an approaching brass band - the groom-to-be was on his way! We ran downstairs to find the courtyard set up with throne-like chairs for Bishakha and Sandeep, and a huge audience waiting. Bonu, me and Bishakha's other friends gathered behind the bride-to-be, her "ladies in waiting," so to speak, and stood at attendance through the ceremony. Bishakha and Sandeep, decorated with garlands, sat and patiently (and nervously) listened to the chanting of the priest, never making eye contact. Finally, after about half an hour, the engagement was over, Sandeep and his band left, and us girls hurried back up stairs. Only a few hours before the wedding!

The intervening hours were spent eating, gossiping, and stressing, as I would imagine often happens immediately before a wedding. Finally, at the hour that had been deemed "auspicious" by priests comparing the star charts of the bride and groom, Sandeep's band (and Sandeep himself) approached again. Suddenly, people were pushing me towards the door - "You have to go downstairs!"

I got down to the first floor before I noticed that, instead of my embroidered red slippers, bought to match the sari, I was wearing fuzzy brown Pooh-bear slippers to keep my feet warm!! I ran back up to the bedroom, switched footwear, chastised the girls for letting me run out wearing those things, and then hurried back to the courtyard.

In place of the chairs was a couch, draped in a white sheet, on which Bishakha and Sandeep were meant to sit. Traditionally, this should be the wedding bed - in the post-wedding procession (day #3), it should be taken to the groom's home (where the bride and groom will live), having been appropriately blessed. However, the procession was going to Sandeep's Grandma's home, where the two were going to live temporarily while their new apartment was completed, and at any rate, the wedding bed had already been set up at the new place, so the couch was used as an acceptable substitute.

Again, there was an audience in the courtyard, but this time, the process was much more interactive. The main highlight of this part of the ceremony was a ritualistic foot-washing. Bishakha and Sandeep propped their feet over a large copper urn, and family members came up to wash the new couple's feet and give them their blessings. This took over an hour, as the family members just kept coming, but finally it was finished. (The mehendi is often put on feet as well as hands, but Bishakha had refused specifically because of this ceremony - she was worried it would wash off too quickly and her feet would just look dirty.)

After the foot-washing, the priests began (or continued) chanting, as Bonu and I leaned against the back of the couch and chatted. Suddenly, Sandeep turned around: "Don't touch the couch!!!" We both backed up, shocked and a bit nervous, and he explained that the incantations currently being chanted were meant to tie Bishakha and Sandeep together - via the couch - for seven lifetimes, and that if Bonu and I were too close to the couch, we too would be included in this cosmic connection!

Throughout the ceremony, people had trickled away, and finally the bride and groom (and Bonu and myself) were allowed to go get dinner as well. There was a band, dancing, and more delicious food, but we were only allowed to relax for a few minutes before being summoned back to the house - Bishakha and Sandeep had to get ready for the "real" wedding.

The next few hours consisted of the hard-core rituals, as Bishakha, Sandeep and two priests sat around a fire in the courtyard. The fire burned in a clay pit that had been built days earlier, and was surrounded by offerings of various sorts for the gods. Neither Bonu and I managed to stay awake through the entire process, but instead lasted until Bonu's favorite part of the ceremony. The bedsheet (earlier draped on the couch) was tied around Bishakha's waist, and Sandeep led her around the fire four times, performing specific blessings at specific points around the circuit. At the end, the sheet was held to Bishakha's forehead, and Sandeep put red powder in her hair, at her part, to symbolize the marriage (this symbol is one only married women may wear).

Finally, it was too much, and Bonu and I went upstairs to go to bed. Samar, Bishakha's little cousin, made a bed on the ground, and we all fell right asleep. Somewhere outside, the rituals went on.

Day 7: Wedding Day #1

The morning dawned earlier than we would have liked, with the rumble of shifting furniture on the terrace outside our door. This was the sound of Bishakha's many aunties getting ready for the many rituals that preface day one of the three-day ceremonial package. The morning was spent with the priest running up and down the stairs, Bishakha's aunts preparing the ceremonial plates (rice, fried rice doughnuts, etc.). At one point, I was blessed with a tika from the priest - he pressed the colors on my forehead, I respectfully thanked him, and then Bishakha shoved me some money to give him in return. Otherwise, the morning was more or less a blur. (Although I do remember mentioning I wanted pancakes - the cooks said they were out of baking powder/soda (whichever pancakes require when you break the mold and don't just use Bisquick), but then managed to make some pretty decent pancakes all the same!)

After lunch, I was summoned into the living room with Bonu and Bhothu, and we were again given tikas, this time by Bishakha. We were being sent to Sandeep's home, to present him with a wedding invitation and gifts. The invitation was an engraved silver plaque, and the gifts were mainly foods and sweets. Laden with trays, we climb into the cars and drive the five minutes or so to Sandeep's grandmother's home, where he currently lives.

The house is full of Sandeep's relatives, and we're ushered into the sitting room, where we present our trays and are tika'd yet again, this time by Sandeep. After a few awkward moments sitting around, noting the smell of feet (all 25ish of us removed our shoes when we entered the house), most of the guests left the room to get on with their various wedding preparations. After a conversation with Mr. Kunwar (Sandeep's father), an optometrist, about cataracts, we escaped up to Sandeep's room for some tea and conversation before being sent back to the Khadka home. As we left the house, Sandeep whispered, "Tell her I miss her!"

After the delivery of the invitation, the bride- and groom-to-be aren't supposed to see each other until festivities begin the next day. However, Bishakha and Sandeep refused to uphold that tradition, and we sneaked out to run some last-minute errands together. We picked up Sandeep's wedding clothes, a pair of slippers for me, and then on the way back to the house picked up some pane puri for dinner, leaving Sandeep back at his home.

Tommorrow, Bishakha gets married!!!!

Day 6: Wedding Reception #1

The bulk of Bishakha's wedding time was actually spent at receptions. Unlike the Christian tradition, there are two receptions thrown for Nepalese weddings - one thrown by each family, for their friends and loved ones. Bishakha, ever different, actually was having two, however, bringing the total reception count to three. Saturday was the first, and was being thrown for neighbors and the Major's family members, who had travelled from the rural village in which he was born. This reception is just one of many indications that, regardless of high social status, the Khadkas are pretty down-to-earth. Although Nepal still has a strong caste system - Bishakha and Sandeep were lucky to be from the same caste, because otherwise they could not marry - the Major specifically invited the untouchables that live in small shacks nestled between the luxurious walled homes in the area. This is hugely impressive, since traditionally, these individuals (who aren't low-caste - they're actually considered outside of the caste system) aren't allowed to eat with others, especially those of Bishakha's caste.*

First, though, we had to be girls! No shopping today, but we made up for that deficiency with a trip to a beauty parlor. Bishakha had a stylist scheduled to come to the house before the wedding on Monday, but for today, we went to a parlor nearby, recommended by one of Bishakha's aunts. Down one of the narrow streets that characterize Kathmandu, we walked through the door and into a room that was, maybe, as big as my living-room. Crowded in were two hair-styling stations, two massage beds, and two pedicurists, not to mention a "waiting area" that consisted of two chairs in front of the door. While waiting for Bishakha's cut - just like in America, appointments rarely start on time! - we stared at a woman getting her hair dried directly in front of us. She had hideous bright orange highlights, and seemed happy as a clam about the whole thing. Bishakha suggested that she was putting henna over them, which would make them slightly less horrible, but I still would have cried if it was my hair.

While Bishakha had her hair styled for the reception, I had a pedicure, thus continuing my tradition of only pampering my feet while in South Asian countries. My relaxation was punctuated by occasional ripping snores from a naked fat woman who'd fallen asleep (covered, thank goodness) on one of the massage tables, but it was still a peaceful few minutes.

That evening, I got my first taste of Nepalese marriages. Sandeep didn't come, so it was just Bishakha and her friends (i.e. Bonu and me) sitting under a tent to receive everyone who showed up. Her parents and brother were welcoming people to the party, and then sending them our way. I think it was rough on her parents - finally sinking in that their baby girl was getting married - but it was a fun evening.

The traditional wedding gift is money (most auspiciously, an amount ending in one, such as Rs. 101), but some people also brought gifts. Bonu and I were tasked with taking the envelopes containing money, and her 11-year-old cousin soon took over the wrapped tea cup sets, rice cookers, and other unfortunate wedding gifts. (Yet another similarity with American weddings!)

One of the most interesting things, to me, was the Tibetan tradition. Although the majority of Nepalis are Hindu, there are obviously Buddhists there as well, and so a small percentage of the reception guests follow this minority tradition. It was simple to pick the Buddhists out, as they drape the wedding couple and family members (e.g. Bishakha's parents) with white silk scarves in blessing.

After hours of sitting and greeting (and a short break for delicious food), we were allowed to retire for the night, which we spent opening wedding gifts and, thanks to Bhothu, enjoying Nepalese vodka, which was fun only because Bishakha and I started hanging out one night at a hotel in Hanoi, over a bottle of Vietnamese vodka (both Nepalese and Vietnamese miss the "tasteless" mark to which vodkas aspire, by a long-shot). The real ceremonies were to start in the morning, and then Bishakha would officially become A Married Woman.

* I wasn't sure how this caste differentiation was done, but Bonu explained that you can tell by surname - Nepalese culture, like a number of other Asian cultures, has relatively few surnames, so their castes are recognizable. When Bishakha's young cousin, Samar, noticed my professor's name on some papers in her room, he asked if there was a "Goodman caste" that he hadn't heard about.

Update: American D.V. Victims

So I emailed Bishakha for clarification, once I realized that the "American D.V. Victims" didn't actually pay money to participate in the lottery, and in response, she sent this article:

Visa Blues

Basically, it seems there's confusion over the rules, so people applied who didn't meet the qualifications, and thus even when their name was drawn in the lottery, no visa was granted. Others assumed that they would receive the visa if they applied, not understanding the lottery side of things. These people spent hundreds of thousands of rupees making travel arrangements, sold their properties, quit their jobs, etc., and now want recompense.

It's an unfortunate situation, but it seems more like a miscommunication than anything else. That, of course, doesn't make these "victims" any better off ...

Day 5: Mehendi

One of the staples of Nepalese weddings is the henna designs painted on the hands of the bride and other female wedding participants (close family and friends). I've had experience with mehendi before - in Egypt, a toothless old woman decorated my hand with thick black henna, and in Mumbai Aziza and Neema drew designs with a cone of brown henna we bought at a tiny store - but never like this. It was a whole production, with a mehendi artist and a bunch of women coming to the house, food prepared for all the visitors, and hours of sitting in the lounge with our hands in the air, not touching anything.

The mehendi was the highlight of the day, after a quest for bangles for me and one card delivery for a friend of Bishakha's brother. This delivery was itself an adventure, since streets lack names and buildings lack numbers - we had to turn around in the narrow, wall-lined streets and call for help more than once, but finally the house was found and Bishakha made the drop. Errand finished, we returned to the house to prepare for the henna artist.

Tour books often warn about skeezy henna artists in tourist destinations - 30+ men who use the opportunity to see some tourist flesh. Of course, Bishakha didn't find this man in a tourist area, so I was expecting something different. I was not, however, expecting what we got - a kid who claimed to be 16 but who probably wasn't more than 14, who applied henna with the speed and skill of someone with years of experience. The poor boy was teased throughout the afternoon about his age, and about the fact that he should be in school rather than developing a career as a mehendi artist. I must admit, though, he's good at what he does.

Bishakha went first, of course, and her hands were painted on both sides and about halfway up the arms. Our boy was especially fond of peacock designs, and we found a number of them hidden in her design. It's traditional that the groom's initials are hidden somewhere in the mehendi, for the bride to find, but she refused (echoing Bishakha's insistence that when Sandeep decorated his car in flowers for the wedding, he didn't put S + P in big marigold letters on the rear window).

I was next - they asked what I wanted, and then explained that he couldn't do what I picked from the design card anyway. I was told to just give him my hand, and did just that, and he was done with both in around 10 minutes. I only got one peacock (named him Bob), but thought the designs were awesome.

But, of course, then came the agonizing hours of not touching anything. Henna darkens the longer it remains in contact with the skin, so we applied a lemon juice and sugar mixture to keep the henna moist longer, and when we finally got to rub off the excess, we still couldn't wash our hands - that had to wait for the morning. All-important activities like washing my face were done with surgical gloves covering the mehendi (courtesy of Sandeep), and by the time I went to bed, the designs had darkened to a rich orange. The price we pay for beauty! Bishakha explained that mehendi is done for a number of occasions, but I can't imagine going through this on a regular basis. However, for a wedding, it was well worth the effort.

*******

Shopping tally: 4 boxes of glass bangles

Day 4: The Monkey Temple

We slept in, to make up for our agonizing 5:30 AM morning the day before. However, our sleeping in was far from perfect, as Sandeep called at 6:30 because he missed Biskakha too much. He told me later that he's used to her calling every 20-30 minutes to see what he's up to, but she hadn't been doing that with me in town, and it made him lonely. Despite the fact that I still felt they talked all the time, it was cute - clearly, this boy is in love. Of course, the cuteness is mainly in retrospect, since at the time I was just grouchy to have a phone ringing in my ear, disrupting my sleep.

Our morning was spent getting in one last bit of tourism at Swayambanuth Temple, a Buddhist Stupa in the middle of town filled with monkeys. Buddhism has evolved into a unique Hindu/Buddhist hybrid in Nepal, and this temple is evidence of that. Aside from the obvious - e.g. shrines to Hindu gods - the Buddha eye symbol painted on every building is found only in Nepal, and has adopted the Hindu myth of Shiva's third eye (in the middle of his forehead, it's foretold that when the god of destruction opens this always-closed eye, the world will end). My first experience with this picture was in the form of our Albertson College senior shirts, designed by Rohan (another Nepalese student), but I didn't realize until I arrived in Kathmandu that it's so popular there, and doesn't exist anywhere else.

After our time at the temple, we joined Sandeep on his deliveries - in Nepal, wedding cards (e.g. invitations) are delivered in person, rather than mailed or even sent with courier, as a matter of courtesy. Poor Sandeep spent a significant amount of my visit delivering these cards - Bishakha was mainly done before I arrived - but after hours in his car alone, we took pity on him and rode along for a delivery and then went for lunch. Bishakha had promised me pane puri - another delicacy recommended by Neema but never eaten - so we went to the new food court in the mall, which serves "street food" that's actually sanitary enough for tourists to eat (the big problem with pane puri in India was sanitation; as "pane" means water, it was not something we could eat off the street, even though we passed a dozen stands daily).

So for lunch we had momos (like steamed dumplings), pane puri, masala dosa and the elusive papdi chaat (Neema's favorite food, which we found once but deemed unsatisfactory), and I had a "Nepalese beer" that was actually a Belgian brand, brewed in Nepal. Sandeep claimed that Nepalese beer tastes better than Indian beer because the water in Nepal is better than in India - while I can't affirm this statement, I can verify that it wasn't half-bad. All in all, it was a delicious meal and a safe way to experience the more "local" side of Nepalese cuisine.

That night, we went on a quest to the Night Market. I was expecting narrow, windy streets and tiny shops like in Khan al Khallili (in Cairo), but instead it was a shopping district (wide streets and normal shops) with additional stalls lining the blocked-off roads. However, the shopping was still great, plus we needed to visit a shop from which Bishakha had ordered embroidered slippers to wear on her wedding day. That was the highlight of our visit, as we had to trek through an unlit alleyway (power outage) to find the shop, only to find that the owner's father was there and had no idea what was going on with her order. Back through the alley we went, and into the car and home.

Thus did the vacation portion of my visit end; Friday would be the start of the preparations and exhaustive bhujas (prayer) that surround a Nepalese Hindu wedding.

*******

Shopping tally: bag, batik, 2 candle holders, 11 pairs earrings, 2 necklaces, 3 shirts, 1000 grams of tea for me; 2 floor cushions, 9 place mats, 4 coasters, 300 grams tea for Bishakha

Day 3: The Majestic Himalayas

Wednesday dawned bright and early for Bishakha and me; we had a scheduled 7:00 AM flight to see Mt. Everest, which meant awake at 5:30 and out the door at 6:30 (and, to be extra helpful, Bishakha's mother actually sent someone up around 5:20 to make sure we didn't sleep in). A God-forsaken hour, to be sure, but we were more than willing. A mountain flight over the Himalayas is a standard experience for visitors to Nepal who don't have the time, money or stamina to do a mountain trek, but for locals, it's a rare experience. The tickets are hundreds of dollars, so even Bishakha had never had the opportunity. However, Sandeep's uncle was a pilot for Buddha Air (I think he's now in upper management), an airline that puts on about a dozen of these flights daily, and he got us two free tickets for my visit. Thus, Bishakha was even more excited than I was about the experience!

Of course, as all airline-related adventures are (at least mine), this was plagued by delays. For some reason, our flight didn't take off until after 8:00, which meant we had all sorts of time to hang out at the domestic terminal of the airport (one room, lots of chairs, and over-priced gift and snack shops). It seems I can't avoid arriving way too early for my flights, even when I'm in another country and at someone else's whim!!

The wait was worth it, however, once we got into the air. The plane probably held around 20 people, and everyone of course had a window seat (actually, the back row had a center seat as well as two window seats - I hope that guy got a discount on his ticket!). We were given maps of the mountain range, and as well as watching out the window, we each got to go up to the cockpit and get a panorama view, with Mt. Everest smack-dab in the middle.

I have to say, Mt. Everest was kind of disappointing - it certainly didn't look that tall! Of course, that's probably because it's surrounded by other very very very tall mountains - but I didn't mind. After all, it's not everyone who can say they've seen the tallest mountain on Earth!

The flight was only an hour, so we were back to the house well in time for a delicious, home-cooked meal. (Bishakha had asked my first day what my favorite Nepalese/Indian foods were, and the cooks were awesome about giving me everything I liked every day). Afterwards, we spent the afternoon on a quest for area rugs for Bishakha's new place. We met up with a couple of women in a predominately Buddhist area of town, with lots of Tibetan rug shops, and wandered from store to store looking for the perfect carpet. In the end, we wound up with two great rugs, one for the bedroom and another for the living room, and one very bored driver (I have to admit, I felt pretty bad for the guy - I doubt he thought this was the duty he'd be getting when he enlisted in the Royal Nepalese Army!).

Finally, for dinner, I got my naan - Bishakha sent Bhothu to a restaurant nearby that's known for its great breads, and I definitely enjoyed every bite. Afterwards, we went to a club called Jazz Upstairs, which has live jazz performances every Wednesday night. The place was jam-packed - from the diversity of patrons, I'm guessing it's listed in at least one guide book - but the jazz was awesome and everyone was friendly. We left between sets, as the waiters were setting out candles to prepare for the pending power outage, thus ending another great day in lovely Kathmandu.

*******

Shopping tally: 2 skirts, 2 dresses, jacket, 2 pairs of shoes for me; pair of shoes, Ganesh statue, 2 carpets for Bishakha