Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Five By Steve Rudd

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.

Sitting down for dinner in Syabru, with neither friends nor family for thousands of miles around, I resigned myself to the fact that I was on my own. Yet it's surprising how conversations can take off with complete strangers, as I began chatting to the son of the family who owned the guesthouse in which I was staying.

By Nepalese standards, the guesthouse was opulent. The comfy bed mirrored the welcoming vibes in the dining room, which was actually part of the family's home. As a guest, I couldn't have felt more welcome. The family's son harboured simple desires in life. He wanted to go to University in Kathmandu, to study English of all universally essential languages. I taught him, as best I could, a few choice words, but it was clear that the poor young man genuinely struggled to understand my thick Yorkshire accent… that accent that for so many years I personally despised. Still, such an accent is a part of me. There's no point a born-and-bred Yorkshireman trying to imitate Cockney slang for the sheer hell of it, is there?

The majority of people who live in the Third World wouldn't even consider pretending to be something or someone that they clearly are not. Priding themselves on being magnificently humble, modest and non-materialistic, their selfless attitudes to life cannot be faulted.

As I talked long into the starry night with Yogesh, the son, I came to admire him more with every revelation that he delivered. Brimming with wisdom at the young age of twenty, his question-asking intelligence deserved to be stimulated by University, and as his mother - much later on in the night - asked me if I might like to 'sponsor' Yogesh to go there to pursue his Higher Education-based dream, I almost said that I'd help him. And her. Right then and there. The next morning I did leave behind a generous tip in respect of their jovial hospitality, hoping such a gesture would do, though they seemed to take offence. What can I say? I said I was tight.

Trekking further north from Syabru, and heading for the breathtakingly mountain-surrounded Langtang Valley, the next few days flew by on a wing and a multitude of prayers. I found it difficult to cope with the country's obsession with religion. An all-consuming obsession that ruled everybody's every waking minute. Obviously if you are a devout believer in the after-life, you do everything you can in this one to ensure that your next one is going to be something to look forward to. Christians abide by the Ten Commandments. Hindus and Buddhists take things even more seriously

If only all they wished for was granted. If only the lonely met somebody with whom they felt they belonged. If only, if only, if only. If only Maoist rebels weren't lurking behind the shadows of death up in the mountains, then nobody would have got hurt.

© Steve Rudd 2004

Continued on www.thisisUll.com...... Chapter 6

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