BOOM-SHAKA-LAKA.

I don't think anything could have mentally prepared myself for what I would encounter in stepping off the airplane into Kathmandu. Luckily I had made a friend on the flight, Richard, he would share this dreadful experience. Inside the airport was quite nice. Getting a visa and documents for entry was a breeze. After baggage claim, I stepped through a door guarded by a heavily armed police officer, on the other side we were engulfed by dozens of men trying to take our bags and coax us into their taxi. The commotion was scary. We spotted a man holding a sign 'FREE RIDE - KATHMANDU GUEST HOUSE' (This was our destination) We pointed at him and then many more men claimed that we should follow them. In an instant one man got a hold of Richard's duffel bag and started off with it. We chased after him through the cars in the crowded lot, and he tossed the sack into a van bearing the name of the guest house. The man put his hand out and said "Please, 100 Rupee for carry bag." A crafty man, though he carried the bag all of 50 feet. We refused him money as the country urges visitors not to give money to these beggars as it encourages bad behavior. The man walks away quite upset and we board the small cramped van. A young Nepalese child approached the van and said "Bon bon or rupee." with his hand extended. We all say no. He then goes on "give me sweet please." We say no again. The boy scrunched up his face and said "BOOM-SHAKA-LAKA." and walked off, I looked at Richard. "Did he actually say Boom-shaka-laka?"

None of this compared to the ride we were about to have. We pulled out of the airport and started barrelling down small streets flooded with cars, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, rickshaws, cows and calves, wild dogs. there are no lanes on the roads and people drive all over in any direction they please, collisions narrowly avoided within millimeters. The overwhelming noise of high pitched horns and honks and shouts dominate. I look outside and see more people than I could ever imagine walking the streets, street vendors, store fronts, filthy living quarters, homeless on the street corners. I see monkeys climbing up on roofs, Cows lying down in massive trash heaps, and children playing on street corners. It finally sinks in "Holy shit, I'm in Kathmandu." we keep going down smaller and more narrow streets. I am amazed we aren't hitting anyone or anything. every square inch of this city is utilized, store fronts, restaurants, living space, markets, they are all crammed into each other and on top of each other. We twist and turn down more roads and dead end at the Guest House.

The Kathmandu Guest House is large and beautiful with gardens, courtyards, fountains, and sitting areas. I checked into my private room for a modest US$4 a night, this is expensive for where I am, but I figured I'll stay in comfort until I know my way around. After a quick unpack, Richard and I explore the streets. The city shops have everything you could imagine. My favorite are the trekking shops that sell poorly duplicated North Face jackets for $2-3. They appear to be Goose down, but I am sure they are stuffed with chicken feathers. I am asked at least a dozen times if I want to buy hash. Despite all the chaos, everyone is extremely friendly and most everyone speaks english well. I have a good dinner and retire back to my room. I am already in love with Nepal.