To be honest, one week after moving to Kathmandu, I’m still questioning myself what the hell I’m doing here in this freezing Himalayan cold. My plan to work on a fundraising marathon in the next 3 months grows dimmer and dimmer everyday as I’m unable to put my hands out of blanket to actually work. It has reached such a point that today, I was feeling so depressed that I decided to call my new friend Asher expecting that his Jewish wisdom would give me some motivation.

- I’m screwed. Hell lot of unmet deadlines and I can’t concentrate on anything.

- Well, in this case, the best is to use Fuck it strategy.

- What?

- Just say Fuck it, shut down your computer, go out and have some fun.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Asher called his friends and 4 of us, riding on 2 senile motorbikes, wormed our way through the notorious traffic jam of Kathmandu for almost 1 hour before we reached the promised land – a local restaurant in the middle of nowhere where they serve local snack and the famous Nepali rice beer (chhaang). This is a small house built in the middle of the rice field with an interesting interior design that allows customers to sit wherever they like: in the room, on the stairway or even in the attic. From the roof where we sat, one could see as far as his eyesight allows as there is nothing to block the way. Hens freely strolled in the front yard and crows on the roof. A peaceful feeling overwhelmed my heart. Everything was going smoothly when suddenly the doctor friend got a emergency call from the clinic he works for. He looked confused for few seconds before turning off his phone and said:

- Fuck it.

Man, Fuck it strategy is the best! Had he not thought straight and decided to go back, we 3 would have troubles getting back to the city with only 1 bike.

We ordered chhaang and rosy (Nepali vodka) with all kinds of Nepali snacks: soya, chilli dried buff, smashed potato, fried eggs with lentil, fish, bamboo shoot. The wind, the scenery and the alcohol made me kind of tipsy. I spotted a cage with long red strips hanging inside.

- It’s chilli, right?

- No, it’s meat. – said Binoy, the other friend.

- Can we steal it?

- We can order to have it roasted right now.

- No, she wants to steal it. – Thanks Asher, you know me well. It’s not fun when you buy. Challenges make things look much better.

- It’s locked.

- I can try. You watch out for me.

I walked to the cage, carefully sneaked my fingers inside and pulled out a small piece. The rest prepared today Kantipur paper to wrap it, in order to sneak it out of the restaurant later on.

- More. – demanded them.

I repeated the stealing act for few more times until we got like 200g of dried meat. We couldn’t help laughing when Asher meticulously wrapped the meat and put it in his pocket. We looked like professional thieves.

- How much does it cost? – asked Asher.

- Around 100Rs. Probably less.

- We should tip them 100Rs.

- No. – Binoy opposed strongly – Nobody tips in Nepal. It’s weird.

I have to explain that it’s a very uncommon act to tip in Nepal. Restaurants usually charge a fixed percent of 10 or 15% for service charge. I once had a very embarrassing experience when I first checked in my hotel. The bellboy brought my luggage up to my room and I gave him 100Rs as a tip. He gave me the strange look as if I just offended him:

- What is it for?

- Nothing. – I quickly ran into my room, slammed the door behind to hide my blush. I never tip him again since then.

So we left with the loot, feeling extremely naughty. In our defense, it’s necessary to commit a harmless crime once in a while, to know that you are still human.

We got back to the city and gathered at Sam’s bar – a nice place where everybody can sit around a bonfire. We plucked a twig from a bamboo on the balcony of the bar and roasted the meat. Sam’s bar customers had a good show that day to see two jerks running around the bonfire, trying to convince themselves that the over-burnt ash-covered meat actually tasted good. We ended the day with a visit to Crazy Burgers.

I came back to my hotel, feeling happy and productive – at least I got my hands out of the blanket and typed this blog post. Fuck it strategy works. Jewish wisdom never fails.

***PS: This is a vegetarian post with no photo. I lost my camera somewhere in India 2 weeks ago.

Tags: Cold, Friends, Fuck it, fun, Kathmandu, Nepal