Happy Beltane everyone!

I totally missed it, having got confused about the date, and only realised yesterday. Hope you all welcomed in the Celtic New Year with your customary vigour.

Since last writing I've not been up to that much. When I finished all my work on Friady I decided I deserved to chill. And then my diaorrhea returned over the weekend, so I decided I was definitely allowed to lie around in my hotel reading books for a bit. I've just finished Possession, by A.S. Byatt, has anyone read it? It's fantastic!

Apart from that, everything is totally back to normal now, here. There's still lots of politicking to go, but no curfews, Bandhs, etc. It feels a bit unreal. As if the revolution never happened.

Things I have been up to since last writing. Sensitive parents should look away now.

On Friday the new House of Representatives was meeting for the first time, and the new PM was due to be sworn in. In the afternoon I decided to go out and see what was happening. I walked down to Ratna Park, where the big gathering was on Tuesday. There were a few thousand people there, and some people giving rousing speaks which I obviously couldn't understand a word of. Although I did pick out the name 'Idi Amin' at one point. I assume this was an unfavourable comparison with the King.

I chuckled at the number of stalls that had mushroomed round the grounds. There'd only been a couple of enterprising souls at Tuesday's impromptu affair. By Friday there were at least 15 ice cream stalls ('Lovely Kulfi'), hot snacks, water.... Even revolutions are grist to the mill of the enterprise culture, obviously.

It all seemed fairly tame, so I was a little surprised to discover later that it was the first ever open Maoist demonstration. And hey, I can say I was there!

Then I walked to the parliament building to see if anything was going on there and there were a few hundred people outside. They were waiting and hoping for the representatives to vote through the proposal for a new Constituent Assembly - which hopefully will change the constitution and stuff. It hadn't been voted on yet, people are suspicious of the parties and watching them carefully.

I tried finding women to ask what was going on, but none of them spoke English. In the end I found a journalist who said the people had decided they were going to block the gates until the representatives voted on the CA bill. People power, eh? I hung about a bit, waiting to see what would happen. At one point someone started giving a speech and people were cheering, so I asked the young lad standing beside me what was happening. I'd decided that I'm actually old enough now that initiating conversation with young lads is reasonably safe. He told me what that some people were going to go round the other entrances and block them.

We chatted a bit about the situation. He's a biomedical student who has been at all the demonstrations. 'I'm not interested in politics but I believe in freedom'. Then there was a sudden rush - everybody in the crowd running - we ran too. I was thinking, 'My God, I wonder if we're going to be tear-gassed'. Happily we weren't, it was just a panic. Apparently that became quite common at the demonstrations once they'd started shooting and tear-gassing them. Anyway, it was all fine and no harm done.

Parents can look back now.

After a bit it become clear nothing very exciting was going to happen and I left. My new friend was leaving at the same time and we walked along the road together. I started to get the feeling that despite my advanced age it is still not safe to initiate conversations with 19 year olds as he invited me to sit and talk for a while. I dissembled, saying I had to get back, so we carried on walking, and he very seriously asked me, 'May I ask you your marital status?' Oh dear. Poor lad. I couldn't help starting laughing and he looked mortified. And of course his English wasn't good enough for anything I said to smooth over the social situation. We walked the rest of the way in stilted awkwardness. I suppose this was ATIC h, or whatever it is we've got to now.

The main other thing of note is that, following the purchase of a new skirt (gypsey stylee) on Sat, I was taken on an impromptu tour of a clothing factory. It looked reassuringly unsweatshoplike and contained no small children. I was then taken to the owners home, drank the sweetest cup of tea in the history of the world and talked to his son who his studying for his medical entrance exams and loves science documentaries. It was all very sweet.

Oh, and I also hit upon the expat pub and met an ex-Hollywood producer who now makes films in India. I've decided the expats are a lot more interesting than the travellers...