Still too hot

It's still really hot and humid here. Phil asked me how hot in an email (and what the food was like) which made me realise that I've probably not told you lots of basic stuff. As you know, I'm all for two-way communication, dialogue, and all that jazz, and blogging is the medium of the future (or at least the present). So please submit any questions you have, or topic requests and I will do my best to comply.

The maximum temperature is consistently about 30-35degC, with high humidity (often in the nineties). You break into a sweat just walking slowly down the street. Some days I've been pouring with sweat just sitting still. The other day, sitting in New Orleans at 8pm I was absolutely wringing. Also, the air is dusty and very polluted - you can see the pollution hanging like a brown haze over the Kathmandu valley, from my hotel room.

The food is great. Kathmandu is a total mecca for food. People who've been travelling in India wonder round awestruck and drooling, going, 'Wow, you can get PIZZA!' Obviously you can get Nepalese or Indian food really easily, but also all sorts of European food, Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Mexican. And it's really good in most places.

You have to pay for that, of course. Nice restaurants, serving western food will be 2-300 rupees for a main course - maybe more! That's about £1.80-£2.60. Not a lot, I know in UK terms, but you can get a simple main course in a more local Nepalese restaurant for 2-30 rupees. To be honest, I'm enjoying all the western food at the moment, because once I'm up in the mountains it'll be dal baht (rice and lentils) all the way.

I managed to spend much of yesterday evening in pointless argument. You won't be entirely shocked and surprised I suppose. Some of you may remember the time Stephen and I got kicked out of our own Union for a particularly long and loud argument (I think about Catholicism). Or the time Gia very kindly invited me to her husband's birthday party and I ended up arguing with him about the nature of free will 'til about four in the morning, at which point we realised all his guests had fallen asleep with boredom.

This one was a 25 year old philosophy graduate - the sort of arrogant, intelligent, but blinkered young man who greatly admires Nietzche and thinks himself desperately profound and intense, whilst also rather dashing. Good-looking, emotionally stunted and failing to see the shortcomings of cleverness. He started off OK, but then became irate, and quiet unreasonable. I'm not sure if it was all the beer he'd drunk, or my refusal to sleep with him.

I was trying to explain to him the shortcomings of his worldview (he started it!) (no, really, he did!) - that there was a lot to life other than standing poetically at the edge of cliffs, cursing creation and nobly wrestling with profound truths while despising the great mass of humanity. And that maybe there was a value in enjoying life and love and bread and sunshine. And thinking about DOOM all the time doesn't actually make you a better person, it just makes you miserable. And it wasn't intellectual inferiority on my part that meant I'd decided I'd rather be happy instead, but quite the reverse.

He wasn't having any of it, naturally. And he didn't like the Kathleen Jamie poem I attempted to illustrate my point with (I would quote it, it's a great poem, but I refuse to have one of those blogs with 'thought for the day' poems). He ended up shouting at me that I had no aesthetic sense, was utterly stupid, knew nothing about philosophy and he hoped I'd die. Of course Geoff's always saying he hopes I'll die too, but that's more affectionate. And Geoff doesn't go on to say, 'In fact I wish I could kill you right now! Right now!'

Finally he railed that at least he could argue, and I couldn't. So I appealed to the involuntary audience, asking them who they felt was making a more convincing case. They all said I was, and that he seemed like a dick. One of them was the girl who'd been trekking with him. She said, 'I've been wanting to say all that to him for weeks, but I'm not as articulate as you. Thank you, that was great, I'm really glad I met you.' Hahahaha. Of course he dismissed all this on the basis that we were all women and just weren't capable of understanding him.

Then later he was amazed that I STILL didn't want to sleep with him.

Surprising, huh? I mean, fair enough, Keefe did once say that arguing was my version of foreplay. But reasonable arguing, with a bit of good humour. Not a crazed denunciation of my entire existence. Ah well, you do meet all sorts.

In other news, the new Nepali cabinet has been sworn in, to much rancour. As The Himalayn Times put it, 'The criticism came hot on the heels of the swearing in of cabinet ministers, which took place after days of labour and much heartburn.' I do love this brand of English for it's mix of formality and unexpected idioms. Apparently MPs also demanded 'largesse' for martyr's families. And people are oftened 'flayed', rather than criticised, which I can't help visualizing rather gruesomely. Also, nice to notice they spell things properly, and not the American way.

Anyway, much love to you all, off to dinner now!