Rude Awakenings - Forest Sangha Publications

^0 S E C O N D M O O N 06made and wrapped in ochre silk, I couldn’t refuse to use it. And Nickrelented: “If you keep a diary, I’ll take the photos.”He carried the undertaking with enthusiasm. It was a tiny camerathat fitted into one hand so he could take photographs in an unobtrusiveway, and was getting some delightful shots of village life, Nepalichildren carrying bundles of wood twice their size, oxen munching atfodder, people threshing grain. Later, I wrote in the diary:Nov. 12th. Leaving Lumbini—walk north then east—crescentmoon; quite cold. People lying asleep on tables inshop/tea stall. Dogs howl and muezzin call as dawnapproached. Hot by nine o’clock; snow-capped mountainsdistant on left. Bhairawa by 10; post office. Cross border aftermidday—v. hot, rest in grove by road.Evening market; inquire after route at militia HQ. (khakiuniforms); friendly; not much English; new road (not onmap) goes to Tuthibari, due East. Nick sees map on wall—they give it to him. After we leave, officer runs after us withmy sitting cloth. Walk on in darkness; sleep in mango groveoff the road. Starlings burst out of the trees chattering whenI lit candle. Cold night; damp dawn.Observation was easy up to a point. However it left the feeling that Iwasn’t doing enough. Nick was always doing things—he was the organizer,poring over maps several times a day and extracting every scrap ofinformation from them about the nature of the land, the possibility offinding unmarked ways along old drainage channels, muttering into hisbeard and then breaking into cryptic ejaculations of discovery. Heshopped for candles and torch batteries while I sat by the road, maybesoftly intoning a mantra, adjusting the straps on my sandals, and puttingplasters on the blisters. Having money, he could give it away. I just sat orstood around. I could use some time to learn Hindi from the little grammarand dictionary I had brought along, but Nick being the one who dealt6 2