This afternoon, I found myself on a local bus, stuck between 2 strangers, a heavy backpack on my lap, and a plastic bag with groceries at my feet in which I knew there were several broken eggs.
This was not an ideal situation, to say the least.
Especially considering I had arrived in Kathmandu on Sunday morning, after a 17 hour flight, including a 7 hour layover in Delhi with 2 hours of sleep. Two days later – this morning, and barely recovered from the travels – I took the bus to Pokhara, which takes 7 hours. And it’s hot. And humid. And dusty.
Like I said – not an ideal situation.
But anyway, I had gone out to get some food in the fridge. When I walked out of the store, for some reason that is completely beyond me, I decided to take the bus instead of a taxi. Bad idea. The bus is stressful anyway, let alone when you’ve just traveled way too far and slept way too little.
But here I was, on the bus, and I had just dropped the only bag with breakable stuff in it on the floor, and the guy next to me was making sure he was as close to me as he possibly could, and I wasn’t sure how to get off the bus at my house because it was so crowded there wasn’t even room to put your feet on the floor.
Still, I was happy. And I remembered my very short, very quiet prayer that I prayed while landing in Kathmandu – arriving after 2,5 months in Europe, leaving behind once again friends and family, plus a new family and a brand new fiance.
But it was time to come back, and I did, with this prayer: God, help me to be here.
Let me tell you.
Taking a bus in Nepal is the ultimate way to be here :)