I was at a café the other day hanging out with my high school friends. It had been almost a decade since we had gotten together to talk about our good old school days. The café was filled with tourists. I showed up early and, for the next hour, none of my high school friends showed up. Yes, most of us do function according to Nepali time and showing up an hour or two late for any scheduled program seems to be the norm in our society.

As I had nothing better to do, I ordered my green tea and spent the hour ‘tourist’ watching. In the far corner of the café, was a white person with dreadlocks. He seemed to be a great fan of Bob Marley. Yes, during my high school days, most of us were fans of Bob Marley too. Our favorite song then was ‘Buffalo Soldier’. We don’t know how and why but we seem to sing this song every day in class although we didn’t know much about American history. For us, America was the land of Michael Jackson and Madonna in our early school days and then it became the land of Jim Morrison, Guns N’ Roses and Metallica during high school. 

The white Rastafarian had ordered plain rice and Fanta. Then he managed to use all the ketchup and made it a Ketchup-Rice and seemed to be enjoying it. I thought to myself either this guy is broke or that was his national dish back home. But, of course, white people don’t really eat rice unless you are a former Peace Corps volunteer who was in Nepal before the 90s. Then, you eat dal bhat with your hand and also speak fluent Nepali than most of us. Yes, I had met a few of them old ones who came to Nepal, spent a few years in the villages, fell in love with Nepali women, got married and still came back to Nepal whenever they get a chance. 

But foreign volunteers these days are a different lot. They hang out in coffee shops, tell their friends back home how much they have done to rebuild this country and the only Nepali words they can say are ‘Sanchai Cha? and Mitho Cha’. Of course, there are many foreign volunteers who have indeed made a difference in the lives of the needy people in this country but most of them seem to be here for a few months and seem to hang out more in Thamel than in our villages.

Anyway, the Ketchup man finished his rice then took out a book and began his reading session. I glanced at the cover but as I was a little far away, I only managed to see a face of an Indian sadhu. It must be a book about some Yogi. Yes, the westerners seem to be fascinated with Indian Yogis even till this day. We have seen the Beatles and other western celebrities and their infatuation with the Hindu Swamis. We also know about Steve Jobs and recently the Facebook guy who followed his path to find something in India.  The Indians go to America while the Americans visit their land to fulfill their wishes.

Maybe the Ketchup man someday would turn out to be another billionaire with his new app or some technology company. 

I looked around and saw three foreign tourists, huddled up to watch some funny clips in YouTube. The sound was loud and disturbing the whole place. The waiters didn’t mind. The customers didn’t seem to care and I did not want to be the bad guy by telling them to at least lower the volume and enjoy the video by themselves. They were laughing out loud and even cursing. In the other table, a group of Nepali lads forgot about their food and drinks and spent the next five minutes gawking at the women. I didn’t blame them.

Western experts tell us that guys spend more than 40 minutes per day gawking at ten different women. Maybe, it was the video or they were surprised to hear foreign women cursing in the middle of the day. Well, cursing is supposed to be a man thing wasn’t it?
As I was reading the newspaper while drinking my healthy green tea, a foreign couple behind me was complaining about the momos. They were telling the waiter that the momos weren’t cooked properly and they were afraid of tummy problems later one. The waiter was trying to convince the couple that the momos were fine and their western customers didn’t have any problems with the food since they opened the café many years ago. The manager showed up, told them that they didn’t have to pay for the momos and kindly reminded them to order western food next time instead of taking risks with the momos. The couple then asked what kind of western food they should order the next time around. The manager said, “Toast with butter and jam.” This guy will someday be one of our great comedians.

My high school friends finally showed up one by one and it took another hour to finally get seven folks around the table. The Facebook event page had 42 lads confirming their participation. We all ordered our drinks, mostly caffeine, and the usual momos, fries and noodles. Yes, after all we are Nepalis. No matter where we go, we love our momos. The momos arrived fifteen minutes later. They were probably the best momos in town. Nobody complained. 

The writer is a house husband who believes in changing, if not the world, the community he lives in one person at a time. Reach him at kalumaila99@gmail.com
 

 
• cafe
 
• tourists
 
• nepal