Chapter 31
Calm between storms
“’Mine is a long and sad tale,‘ said the mouse, turning to Alice, and sighing.
-
The exodus ended almost as quickly as it started. One day, Tom simply noticed that no one was talking about leaving
“Those who wanted to run have run. The few remaining are aware enough to live cautiously, and are prepared to weather out the storm. That’s the byword of the times.....living life cautiously. That’s a bit funny, when you think about it,” Tom reflected, sardonically.
“Once the real danger is finally over; everybody runs! Why do people wait for something to happen, before they act, react, or more typically over-react?” he wondered.
“Whatever happened to ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?’”
Tom thought that he would most certainly never learn to fully understand people.
“Where is independent thought? Why do people act like a school of fish? Or, more accurately, like cows in a slow moving heard, that stampedes every once in a while? Whatever!“ he said to himself, in disgust.
“Focus on what to do now, Thomas,” he reminded himself.
Tom sat in the most comfortable chair in the now vacant lobby of the Kathmandu guesthouse, and he tried to focus on his plans; not the annoying TV - whose only broadcast was three canned announcements, played in various sequences, pretending to give the appearance of news bulletins. It was like the radio announcements that had set Tom off before; only on TV, they included test patterns for visuals. All of the entertainment programming on TV and radio had been cancelled for weeks - ostensibly to honor, and in respect for, the slain Royal family. Coincidently, this assured that the media wasn’t used by any faction to distribute incendiary propaganda. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, the power structure of the country metamorphosed into something new and workable. Tom could feel the hidden hand of responsible, objective, and critical, outside influence at work; and rather than feeling threatening, it felt very reassuring. Whoever was involved, whatever countries were involved, Tom couldn’t tell; but the actions seemed to be in the best interests of the Nepali people. Stabilization appeared to be the objective; and Tom could see, and feel, the results around him.
“Someone out there isn’t going to let the Chinese get away with this one,” he thought, happily.
Maoist sympathizers, and Leninist communists were noticeably absent from public view. Usually very verbal, very loud, and ’the voice of reason,’ they were strangely silent, and nearly absent.
“They must have been planning this twisted approach for years,” thought Tom.
“In the end, they want to portray themselves as the liberators - no matter how ludicrous that really is,” he surmised.
The pieces of the meticulously planned puzzle had finally fallen all together for Tom, as he had watched the panicky tourists and non-citizens run out of the country. The same guesthouse he now rested in was a much different environment in those frantic days after basic services were first re-instituted. Its present sereneness revealed nothing of the wild turmoil of the recent past. That in itself, was typical of
“You got to hand it to the Hindus,” thought Tom, as he blankly stared out of the main lobby into the lush gardens. “They sure now how to adapt to terrible circumstances. Attributing it all to whatever predestined fate, they can quickly let go of any hurt and pain, and move on like nothing had happened.”
Tom doubted if Americans were ready yet to understand, and accept, this kind of reality for the world.
“Nope, denial, honed by spin control, won’t allow it. Our very system precludes its understanding. I wonder if you can apply Gödel's theorem to that?” he laughed, as he considered the unusual analogy between life in
If no system can explain itself, and you eliminate any chance of a system seeing itself from an outside perspective ......through self-reinforcing spin control and propaganda...... then, what chance do Americans have to really understand themselves vis-a-vi the rest of the world?” Tom pondered.
But, Tom could feel, in his bones, with the assuredness of this nearly flawless inner predictor, that it was a reality that Americans were going to have to face very soon. It was inevitable. The spin control, politics as usual, and the overextension of expectations, had to hit reality sometime. In the 20’s this had happened to a privileged few on Wall Street - and they jumped out of the buildings, as their betrayal via the stock market became self evident. Now, in the new millennia, 50% of the population had become implicated in one way or another. With all of it predicated on the inherent greed of rampant consumerism. Tom didn’t doubt that Americans could adapt, and be resilient enough to withstand reality. But, the question to Tom was: “would they realize it before its too late to recover from? Or, more likely, will they keep going, and maybe even speed up, as they run themselves off a metaphorical cliff - like the French aristocracy did?”
While mulling these thoughts over in his head, and staring blankly out of the lobby windows, Tom was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by Andre’s voice.
“Hey, lazy A-mer-i-can ready to go?”
“Yeah, sure...”
Placing the old magazine on the coffee table, Tom rose to meet his friend; glad to have him interrupt his train of thought.
“No newspapers yet?” Andre asked off handedly.
“Nope, things aren’t quite ready to report yet. I don’t think we will hear anything more until the new King is crowned tomorrow.”
“They sure rushed that through! Seems like that would be something that would take weeks to plan.”
“Well, a regular one would be, but this one has to be legitimatised before anyone else can rise up and try to take control again. Do you want to go to the ceremony?”
“Sure, it sounds interesting. I hear he rides an elephant after its over.”
“Yeah, its a big deal; and not often seen - hopefully. I’d like to go to. I guess that’s tomorrows’ agenda, eh?”
“Sure, what else is there anyway?”
“Well, our engaging conversations, and more massages would be nice!” Tom said with a laugh.
“Well we have stuff to get yet for the trip. Let’s work on that too, ok?”
“Sure,” replied Tom. Let’s go get a doughnut and coffee right now though, and just relax a bit.”
“Fine with me, just don’t try to touch my doughnut!” Andre said with a big grin.
They walked to their favorite cafe’, down a winding, near empty, street. It was a roof top affair, only a few blocks from the
“Jeeez, Thamel was really getting on my nerves before I left on my trek. Now, it’s great, eh? Its quiet without anyone here and with all of the junk shops closed. I love it,” commented Tom, as they looked down from their rooftop cafe’ at the vacant streets far below.
“I kind of miss the crowds. It seems so lifeless these days.”
“Yeah, well everyone ran, except for us silly folks.”
“What? Silly? Us? Phhhpppp!” Andre said, with dismissive exasperation.
“There never was any danger.”
"Ok, whatever,” replied Tom, in an equally frustrated tone of voice.
It had become an old argument, one that seemed to only get more entrenched the more that they discussed it. Andre never could admit that he was wrong to go to
“Even though he came back scared shitless, and white as a sheet,” laughed Tom, in retrospect.
Tom didn’t think Andre had slept much that night.....both out of fear, and out of concern for Bernard sleeping so close to him, after smoking so much hashish. Tom could never get him to talk about it, other than hearing ‘But of course we had room to sleep! It was tight, and we slept nearly on top of each other, Ugghhh, but it was fine!’
That was much as he would reveal to Tom; but Tom could fill in the missing parts of the picture himself. He had become very close to Andre during their enforced confinement throughout the period martial law; so, he could read Andre’s body language, and what he Didn’t say - like a book. To Tom, it was fun to listen to Andre’s words, and to read between his lines. Tom’s intentions felt more paternal than anything; so most times, he found Andre’s blustery persona incredibly amusing.
“The words are coming out this way, but they really mean....” Tom laughed to himself.
It really upset Andre, however, when Tom questioned obvious inconsistencies that seemed to reveal the hidden part of a story.
“Why should I have to justify myself, always, to you?”
Tom could tell that Andre was probably quite adept at NOT saying the things that would expose his true behaviors. During their initial discussions, Tom had asked Andre if he wanted to learn about himself, and if he welcomed constructive feedback - like Tom desired. Andre had replied: ‘But of course!’ in his best French vernacular.
But, Tom knew better than to press this point. First, it didn’t matter. And second, Tom could see that Andre wasn’t ready yet to openly examine his sexuality.
“Objective feedback is a new thing for Andre, and he’s having enough trouble with that exercise, much less focusing on a highly sensitized topic like his sexuality. Obviously, Andre found Bernard attractive -if only in an adventuresome way, as he said.”
In Tom’s opinion, Andre just wasn’t sure how to handle his affection for Bernard, without seeming gay. This possible realization had scared Andre too much to even talk about it yet; so, Tom respected his insecurities, and left the topic alone. Tom expected that Andre would share more, as he felt safer with him.
“Men!” thought Tom in exasperation, “for the millionth time!”
“Why can’t they just get beyond sex? Whatever! That issue can wait, if we ever go there. Staying alive is the most important thing right now. I’ve just got to get through to him, that things aren't what they seem to be on the surface in
So, Tom started a conversation with the objective of getting Andre more aware of things around him - dangers, in particular. If Andre didn’t even admit they existed, then he certainly wouldn’t be ready to meet and overcome them. That was Tom’s real concern. He would rather be alone, than think he could rely on someone else, and then be blindsided. He didn’t want to turn his back, or relax, thinking he was covered; and then, be blindsided because Andre wasn’t really aware, or there for him, like expected. Losing money wasn’t an issue to Tom, losing his life was...
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Andre, I just want to be sure that you can be honest with me about everything. If you can’t be honest with yourself, then how can you possibly be honest with me? If we can’t even admit our mistakes to ourselves, then how can we ever be forthright with other people? It’s not a matter of right and wrong, or a blame game between people. I don’t care about any of that. It’s about being aware, alert, and responsive to each other if we are going to be a functioning team in
“Please, helloo in there!!!!” Tom continued to hammer home his point. “There are maybe 90 dead people, who got killed less than half a mile from us. There are heavily armed soldiers everywhere, with orders to shoot on sight after dark. The city is now essentially empty, and the entire government is in flux with the slaughter of the Royal family, and a near civil war struggle for succession! I hate to tell you dude, but that's danger! And just because you won’t admit that you made a mistake by going to that party; we are going to pretend nothing else matters? Is it better to admit the mistake, to yourself, and someone who really isn’t judging you, than it is to pretend nothing is amiss, and live your life in total denial?”
“You worry too much, Thomas,” Andre said dismissively, as he rose from their table and began walking down the multiple flights of stairs, towards the street.
“Better to worry too much and live, eh?” Tom rejoined Andre, breaking the silence between them, as they reached the street level.
“Phhhhhhp!” was his blow off sound for Toms’ worries.
“Well, think what you will, but I’ve got some good news.....and I feel a lot better for us all.”
“What?”
“The British tour guide is finally gone.”
“Why is that good?”
“Welllll, I saw him at coffee this morning at the
“You and your mythical plots Tom. Are all Americans so imaginative? You look into things too much.”
“Maybe, but consider this: last week this guy was flying high and happy about the deaths of the King and his family; and told me....and I quote: ‘The Maoists aren't so bad....at least they keep things stirred up, and divert attention from the real issues....I think its really quite amusing, actually.’”
“Means nothing Thomas. Think about something else.”
"Ok, it doesn’t really matter if you believe me or not. The point is that I feel safer knowing that stability is being restored, by someone....some country....probably the
“A-mer-e-cans! Think the world revolves around them.....the arrogance of it! You will see a new reality soon from the Economic Union.”
“Well, let’s take that statement in two parts....shall we?” Tom temporized, sardonically.
Tom loved these discussions with Andre. They both learned things from each other.....things that were minimized, or ignored in their respective countries. Things that usually meant unattractive realities about their country, and positive things about the other country. So, Tom smiled and willingly launched off into their characteristic conversational abyss.
"Ok.....the A-mer-e-can thing first,” Tom mocked, gently, and in good humor.
“Where do you think you would be, if the power struggle here broke out into a real, street by street, civil war?”
“Safe in our hotel!” he replied, smugly.
“Plueeese! How long would the food last, and why would that be any safer than any other building?”
“Well, you told me when you picked it, that it was safer because it was a real Tibetan run guesthouse.”
“Right, but how safe would that be if the Chinese were coming in here? Who do the Chinese detest the most? I’ll answer that: the Tibetan Buddhist’s and their ideology. It persists, despite their tyranny. It’s the only remaining affront to their propaganda machine, and their rewritten view of history.”
“You think too much”
“You don’t think enough. Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way; I just meant that when you are in tough places, you have to really be aware of your surroundings; and, the current conflicts, that may ensnare you by happenstance.”
"Ok...whatever.”
Pressing his advantage, Tom continued in a determined, yet calm and soothing voice.
“Well, back to what I was saying. If all hell broke lose, I can guarantee you that there would be a helicopter on top of our roof to evacuate us A-mer-e-cans stranded in
“Soooooo? What if you say is true?”
“Well, you would be safe because we would throw away your IDs, and I’d tell them you are my mute brother. That would at least get you on the copter, and out of harms way. That's kinda nice, eh?”
Andre admitted nothing, and remained stoically silent.
“What would
Before Andre started to protest, Tom pushed on, to give Andre a superior position - before he could take offense, and then adopt an intractable position.
“You, and a few other people on this trip, have shown me that American companies supply bad things like land mines to lots of countries; and, you’ve clearly shown me that the almighty dollar is our only consistent ‘value.’ That was hard to accept. I also know that while most Americans never know about these things, we have failed to keep ourselves aware of what is done in our name.....and therefore, often look like fools when we try to disavow any responsibility, and then become self-righteous. Subsequently, our presumptuous imposition of our ’values’ on other cultures is often the final insult to a real injury. The combination of our ignorance of what’s really going on, combined with seemingly mindless unilateral actions, makes us look like the worst sort of barbarian, eh? All of this makes it utterly clear that we need to make sure that we are no longer propagandized for ‘national security purposes;’ or, for business expansionism.”
Tom could see the warring emotions play across Andre’s face. Finally, his mind settled where Tom expected, on the superior ground of arms sales. A fair, and real, place in Tom’s newer understanding.
“If most Americans knew these things, do you think that they would do something to stop it? Do they really not know everything they should?” Andre asked, skeptically.
“You are probably right about that....you make a good point. Even if they knew, would they give up something comfortable to ‘be good?’ I’m not so sure many people would choose sacrifice over personal comfort and gains. I would like to think most would. I think if people really understood the price that is really being paid for their excess luxury, they would discard it.”
“Really? I think you are the naïve one now, Thomas. I see that you would, and that you truly believe your words. So, I don’t see you as I would so many other A-mer-e-cans. But, people? They are basically very selfish. I am sad to say. So, therefore....”
“You think you might as well get what you can, and enjoy life as you can?”
“Yes, in a way. Only, not so mean sounding! I am a good person, Thomas. My family are good people. We give to those in need. Since I was a child, my mother would take baskets to those in bad situations at Christmas time. But, you must learn, Thomas. When we give, we must give thoughtfully; and so not as to insult or demean those to whom we give. Otherwise the present is a poison present. A present that seems nice, but makes one feel worse than no present. Do you understand me?”
“Yes I do,” Tom said, humbly.
All the time Tom had been trying to teach Andre something, Andre had been trying to teach him something too. They were a lot more alike than they realized, until now.
“I understand it’s too easy to control someone with a giving hand. That while I am sincere, sometimes I give so that I can feel good about myself, and in control. I guess that comes from being controlled too much in my life, so I feel safer knowing that I am in charge. I know I’ll be responsible with others, but I fear that I can’t trust others to be responsible with me.”
“How do you know that, Thomas?”
“Because I have trusted others, deeply, and they have betrayed and hurt me deeply. So, I lose trust in anyone.”
“Maybe you trust too quickly? Maybe you trust the wrong ones? Maybe you want what you want, like me; and so, you are selfish too?” he asked quizzically.
“I don’t feel selfish, or mean to be.......” Thomas’s voice trailed off into meaningful silence.
“That, Thomas, I know. That is why I remain with you, always. Silly A-mer-e-can!” Andre said with a loving laugh; and a tousle of Tom’s hair, imitating the action he had so often received from him.
Thomas smiled inside out, and uncharacteristically stayed silent.
“Now, I see how to silence you, Thomas; pay you compliments! Phhhpppp!” he laughed, aloud.
“You know my secret now! To silence me, you only need to give me compliments or hugs. As long as I know that I am loved...” Thomas teased; then continued on.
“Unfortunately, you know what this means, Andre? Now that you know my secret?” Tom said, in an overly serious way.
“No, what does dis mean Anglais?” Andre asked, knowing that he was about to get pummeled, and began running away from Tom.
“Now, I must kill you!” Tom said, as he ran after Andre down the empty street.
******
The next morning, Tom and Andre packed their cameras, a lunch, and set out for their short cycling trip across the Kathmandu valley to see the coronation of the new King of Nepal. After cycling for hours, and being directed to various obscure temple districts, they and their two new acquaintances, gave up their search for the ceremony.
“I don’t think they want people to find it,” commented Tom to Andre.
“But it is supposed to be a spectacle, with King riding away on an elephant! The bull elephant’s défense decorated, and bejeweled,” Andre said, in disappointed frustration.
“His what is a whated?” asked Tom, totally confused, and not trying to hide it.
“The French call an elephant’s tusks ‘defense,’ Thomas” commented the pleasant woman who had joined them for the day trip.
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. But then, what is the French word for horns and tusks on other animals?”
“The same thing.....défense.”
“Whatever!”
“The French just look at things from a different perspective, Thomas. One I think you appreciate, but don’t fully understand. To understand it, you must learn the language.”
“I know, I say: ‘hey look at that red car,’ and they say: ‘look at that car that happens to be red.’ It’s in reverse. Backwards some would say....” Tom teased Andre, with an obviously childish sneer as they ate the ice cream sandwiches Tom had bought them.
“See what I must live with?” Andre complained, unconvincingly to their two new friends.
“How will I ever live with such a person for so many long and silent days in
“You guys are too funny! You’ll have a grand time in
“Yes, this trip today is fun. Unfortunately we didn’t get to see the crowning ceremony, but you boys have been fun! How many years have you known each other?”
Tom and Andre simply looked directly at each other, and laughed.
“Too many years, dear. Too many years. You know how some people say ‘the years passed like days?’ It’s the other way around for us; the days pass like years!” Tom joked.
“You beat me to the quick, once again, Anglais!” Andre said with mock frustration at being too slow to deny Tom first.
“Anyway, it’s sad that we couldn’t find the coronation ceremony. It wasn’t supposed to be public anyway, but I thought we‘d be able to watch it from a distance. Oh well, its good to cycle like this today, to get ready for our trip. All of you are accomplished cyclists, and I’m learning a lot from just watching you guys. I never thought I’d cycle through the street traffic in
“Now you are getting it Thomas!” complimented the woman in admiration.
“You’re doing very well for just learning. You’ll do fine on the tour through
“Well, I’ve cycled all my life, but this isn’t anything like I’ve ever done. Then, I was riding a bike, now....”
“Now,” said the Frenchman, “the bike and you move as one. It must be this way, otherwise you fail! You mustn't fight the cycle......the cycle must become an extension of you. You will learn to sense the road conditions by the vibrations you feel through the tires and frame; and the weather conditions, through your other senses and subtle changes in traction. If you do not become attuned to your cycle, then you risk accidents and injury. On city roads like these, a miscalculation means ending up under the tires of a vehicle, and losing your legs or your life. On a mountain road, it can mean hitting a rock that can bend your tire rim and leave you stranded; or throw you off the cycle, and hurt you badly. Going 90 klicks down a mountainside, then coming to a sudden stop, can be deadly. You must be aware! Then, you will be safe, and enjoy your adventure. Otherwise?” he finished with a languid, open-ended, question.
“I think I understand. Thanks for the advice. Today was a test, wasn’t it, Andre?”
“I had to be sure that you were prepared, Thomas. And you would not listen to only me. These two have cycled in many countries; they know, as I do, the commitment cycling means. It is not a child's game. You must be....”
“Aware,” Tom finished Andre’s sentence.
“Just like I have been trying to show you; only in a slightly different way, eh?” Tom teased, as he hopped onto his oversized cycle, and bolted away from the playful wrath he knew he had just unleashed in his now close friend.
The couple just looked at each other, and laughed, as they saw Andre’s face turn red, and he began a hot pursuit after Tom.
“Anglais,” he yelled, “always you must have the last word! We shall see!”
Throughout the next week, while they waited on the Chinese Embassy to reopen, Tom and Andre made intense day trips throughout the
“Thomas, you must be prepared for such a cycling trip,” Sonam told him one day when he had stopped by the shop for a wrench.
“Andre has a tool kit, he just wasn’t around today. We have been running errands trying to get ready for the trip. I have to pick up the tent, and he is getting a small stove so we can boil our own water.”
“That is exactly what I mean. You’re not together, and therefore you’re unprepared. You must learn to be totally self sufficient to survive.”
“You’re right! Ok show me how to change a tire and how to adjust replace brake pads, eh?”
“Now, you understand!”
“I’ve been cycling all over
“Good, very good. Now, I want you to take these saddlebags and this tool pack.”
“But, those are your personal ones! I can’t, I might lose or damage them. I can’t afford......”
“To be stupid, and turn down a sincere gift,” he chided Thomas.
Blushing, Tom thanked him, and once again expressed his appreciativeness.
“You are going with a brave heart, Thomas. You must have strong tools to match it, so neither one breaks.”
“And you’re getting that worried look on your face again! I’ll be careful, I promise, ok? I’ll be over cautious, ok?”
"Ok, Thomas. You must do what you must do. All I can do is......”
“Help me get ready; and for that, I really thank you.”
“Its not you I worry about,” he said obliquely.
“I know, and I understand the risk I’m taking with my arrogant partner. But he has a good heart; he just isn’t so sure of it yet.”
“It’s not for me to say.....”
“I know, he talks about me. He does that about everyone. He seems to think it makes him larger, somehow, to always have someone less ready alongside him. He’ll learn, however, that I’m not what I may seem. I may be inexperienced at some things, but I’m a quick study, and learn fast by watching. He’ll teach me more than he realizes, and I’ll watch my back. But I want to give him the chance, so for that I must trust him fully. I think he’ll do well enough. Again, I think he has a good heart.....he’s just insecure in himself. We’ll get through that.”
“It’s your life, Thomas.”
“Thanks. Sonam, I really appreciate your feedback. I was beginning to wonder about things myself; whether I was accurate in my assessments, or stuck on my ego. It’s good to get constructive reality checks. Sometimes I do wonder; but, I learn a lot from him as well. Just because his perspective is different, doesn’t mean I can’t learn anything. It challenges me to remain flexible to alternative views.”
“Just don’t blind yourself, Thomas - to see only what you want, as opposed to what is reality.”
“That’s good advice on anything in life. Now I know how you competed in two Olympics, and have accomplished what you have.”
“I am a simple cyclist, Thomas.”
“Oh, ok; and I am Queen Mary.”
“Really?” he asked, with deadpanned precision.
“On that note, I am outta here!” Tom laughed.
“See you when I return from
“I’m counting on it,” Sonam said under his breath, as Tom rode away for the last time.
Tom was feeling confident, strong, and fully recovered from his torturous last few days of trekking through the mountains. His damaged muscles and blisters had fully healed, and he had been able to gradually increase his cycling regime the week that followed the new Kings’ investiture - putting him in great shape, and high spirits.
“Andre, I’m going to cycle over to the Chinese Embassy again tomorrow. Want to come with me?”
“Sure, there is nothing else to do. We have everything to go on our trip, but we lack the Visa’s. If we can’t get them soon, we might have to consider canceling the
“Well, I’d agree with you, but the airports are still swamped and we’re both on standby. There’s no reason to live at the airport, either, eh?”
“True. This is true. But what if we buy ticket?”
“It’ll cost us a fortune - if we can even get them. I heard the fares have doubled, and while many people have left, there are many more to go. Anyway, this is probably the last chance either of us will ever get to go to
“I just remembered that I need a few more tools, and a couple of replacement tubes for our tires. Why not I go get them, while you check out the Embassy? One more day won’t make that much difference.”
"Ok, that's fine with me,” Tom replied, “that's a plan!”
Tuesday came and went, and by Wednesday afternoon Tom’s anxiety level had reached a new height. He’d waited another two days in line, outside of the Chinese embassy. Tuesday he’d cycled over in the early afternoon, but he didn’t make it inside the building, before they closed the office, and sent everyone packing. Even still, he wasn’t sure what he would have done with his cycle while inside, the place crawled with opportunists. On Wednesday, he and Andre took a cab to the embassy, again concerned about the safety of their cycles. The cab fare was relatively high, since the embassy was on the outskirts of
“An odd place for an embassy,” Tom thought in one of his moments of despair.
Then there were the random people to deal with. There were people asking for money, guys promising to help, and opportunistic people who canvassed the area for lone tourists to mug. The building was a bleak concrete structure, where Tom couldn’t relax and still watch his back. It was an emotionally cold environment; yet, hot and humid days. The irony wasn’t lost on Tom. On Wednesday, they arrived very early to avoid the long line; waiting hours before the embassy could possibly open. For it wasn’t clear if the embassy would even open from one day to the next.....or what time when they would open. Random hours were posted; yet, it opened and shut for inexplicable reasons. By arriving really early, they found themselves in line with the professional Visa agents; all standing in a state of frustrated limbo. Each agent had literally handfuls of passports from various countries, all with applications and cash attached. After a while it became clear to Tom that this was how tourists usually got their Chinese Visas. Travel agencies sent a man who was paid to stand in line; and who knew how to bribe the officials correctly. The agency would take the application, passports, the fee, and a hefty profit from the tourist; then get one of their employees to stand in line....maybe for days.....to secure a Visa. As more ‘agents’ showed up during the day, and they found that they were too far behind to ever get in, they gave their pile of passports to a friend of theirs, further up in the line; paying him some of their fees for the favor. The mystery of the travel/tour agent businesses was much clearer to Tom. Regardless of what agency he went to, the prices were all about the same....too high....and, they had almost identical departure dates for seemingly different treks or tours. Freelance travel guides set up their own tours, and they were booked by any one of a hundred agencies that seemed to exist on every block of
“God, if people only knew who was holding their passports, they would die,” thought Tom.
He saw dark red French passports, Dutch passports, British passports, and Swiss passports.... all subtly different, dark colors. The only U.S. passports Tom saw, were those of a couple of California girls further up in line, and a couple of Texas guys further back in line behind him. In between them were the scum of the earth. There didn’t seem to be anything in between. The people in line were either travelers too impatient, or low on funds, to go the regular agency way; or the agency gophers. As the day wore on, the heat heightened; and the people became languorous. Tom was glad he had the forethought to buy a couple bottles of water before getting in line. He knew he couldn’t leave the line without losing his place....even to relieve himself, and Andre was still gone shopping. So, he tried to let his mind go blank as he could; to maintain some sense of peace, while he waited patiently. But, the line didn’t move an inch, for hours; even after the expected opening time. Tom had learned during his other days in line, before his trek into the
A man stood inside the building, in the waiting room, and watched the anxious crowd in bored consideration. He stood there for an hour, before he decided to open the door to the inside waiting room. Once the door opened, the line suddenly surged forward. The most aggressive of the crowd pushed everyone out of the way, as they rushed forward, into the building. Shocked, Tom stood there and watched as the men shoved the two
“I can hold them for a bit, but you have to move quickly.”
Thankful for his voluntary intervention, the girls squeezed their way into the building. Relieved that the women were now safe, Tom tried to get in himself. But, by then, the flow of people had moved past either side of him; and he was blocked outside, while he tried to edge himself into the solid flow of bodies. The linebackers from
“I have no time for breathing,” he thought, and he lunged ahead, through the doorway.
Once inside, the guard yelled at people to form two lines. Within less than a minute, two lines were formed; yet the people were as tightly packed as they had been before, bodies squeezed against each other offensively......less than a hair’s breath apart. Tom had never experienced such a mad press of people before; and while he remained calmer than he ever could have imagined being in such a situation, he was getting stressed. He felt continually compressed between two opposing walls of people.......those in front, and those in back of him. He was relieved to be inside, and in line; but he soon realized that he had gone from being near the front of the waiting group, to near the end of his line. It was discouraging, but nothing could be done.
“Well, at least I made it into the building, I should be able to get a Visa sometime today anyway,” he reassured himself.
“Thank God I’m not one of the poor bastards still outside, they don’t stand a chance.”
So, armed with his own reassurances, no matter how minimal, Tom’s spirits lifted up a bit. The girls, he could see, had made it fairly close to the front of his line.
“That's good, I hope they get their Visas,” he thought, randomly.
Tom smiled, and waved to them. Still a bit shaken, and disheveled, they smiled at Tom and yelled back their thanks. The
“Yo , dude.....wasn’t that wild?”
“Fricking nuts, if you ask me,” Tom replied.
“Jesus, you’d think they hadn’t any manners or care about anyone other than themselves. Idiots! Damned well hurt those two girls. They weren't expecting the big shove, and they got trapped. Then, I got stranded. Thanks for the help back there.”
“No problem, man; don’t sweat it. Us minority Americans need to watch out for each other.”
“Yeah, I guess so. The only bad experience I’ve ever had in line before was at the
Tom spoke loud enough so that the other people all around them could hear what he said. He wanted them to hear, and feel bad about what they almost did to the women. The reaction, however, wasn’t what he had expected. He only got happy grins for his short lecture.
“They are fricking happy about it!” he thought, “and no doubt enjoyed the weird line thing.”
It was yet another alien concept, to Tom; another very clear indication of the dramatic differences between Western and Asian cultures. Something as basic as the accepted protocol of standing in line, and being respectful of others, was radically different.
“In fact, it’s almost non-existent here,” he thought.
“The only reason there are two lines, is the armed guard,” he realized.
Tom waived to the guard for his attention, and he came over to Tom.
“Excuse me, but all of these people shoved their way in ahead of the others outside.”
“There is nothing to be done,” was his quick, and brutally rude, response to Tom.
“Dumbshit,” was the unspoken last word.
He walked away from Tom, and went to the back of the room to sit down. End of discussion! That was it! Tom had to try, because he felt that it was patently wrong that the mild mannered folks had been passed by, and shoved outside. But, it did no good. The regular folks were literally trampled by their countrymen; and where thereby forced to wait days, if not weeks, for Visas. For as far as Tom could tell, this same drama played out everyday. There certainly was the pent up demand from the embassy being shutdown during the crisis; but, Tom felt that there was a definite pecking order. While knowing smiles between the agents flew around the room, the regular Nepali people stood silently with downcast eyes and in mute acceptance of their lower status. Like everything else in
“Hello. I am a bit of tourist here. As if you couldn’t tell,” Tom said with a laugh.
“Could you explain the procedure here? It doesn’t seem to make too much sense. I’ve never seen such a mess in any queue, much less in an embassy where good manners are usually the top requirement.”
“It’s really quite simple. The Chinese open when they want, give out a few Visas, and then close up.”
“Really?” Tom asked incredulously, but rhetorically.
“Quite so. That man inside is the only one who issues Visas, and he will come in and just sit there some days....leaving all people to wait....then close his briefcase, and get up and leave; without so much as a word!”
“Is that why these guys are acting so pushy?”
“Yes, they are quite eager to get their Visa’s issued, otherwise they are not paid by the agency who hires them. No Visa, no money.”
“So, the Chinese see this, and don’t add anymore people to help out?”
“Yes. They take pleasure in seeing everyone fight for something. It raises its value in their eyes, like it’s a real privilege to give out a Visa. And, they think it’s funny to see people squirm.”
“Sick,” said Tom, “Really sick.”
“That is the Chinese. And, they aren't too happy these days anyway. So, not many Visas have been issued since they re-opened - and they were closed for weeks!”
Tom was silently relieved that he had gone on the Trek through the mountains, instead of waiting in
‘Dr. So and So is pictured here, with a recently discovered 20 meter statue of Buddha.’
‘Dr. So and So says it is a rare archeological find, and it confirms the historical roots of
‘Dr. So and So has published his rare archeological findings in his textbook blah, blah blah....’
At first it made Tom laugh to see such silly things in print. Then, he started getting a bit scared about his upcoming venture into remote
“Trust no one, and be patient,” was Tom’s mantra de jure.
With all this in mind, he commented on the man’s observation.
“Yeah, strange sense of humor. Maybe they just don’t want people coming into the country?”
“Oh, they want people to come in.....some people....people with lots of money to spend, and not too much intelligence.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. I read the ‘Lonely Planet’ guide. They say what, and what not, to bring into the country. Frankly, I can’t figure out why on some things, but I’ll follow their advice, and not bring anything in writing....or pictures. Just me, and my clothes. That should keep me from doing something I don’t know about by mistake, eh?”
“Good idea.”
As Tom and the Nepali guy were talking, one of the more aggressive scumbags wound his way through Tom’s line, and past Tom. Tom held onto his shirt as he tried to pass, and spoke to him calmly.
“There is a line. Mind the queue, and go back.”
The guy was surprised at Tom’s intervention, and laughed outwardly at his suggestion.
“I was in line ahead.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Tom calmly.
As the incident proceeded, Tom’s Nepali conversationalist visibly shrank; as to not be seen as being ‘with’ Tom. Tom wondered at this, but he felt safe in his conviction.
“If I don’t stop this one, others will follow, and it will get out of hand again. They have to know that they can’t just pass me up, otherwise they all will,” he reasoned to himself.
Tom was at his limit of patience, and he knew now that he could never expect any form of manners from this group of Hindus - for money, was all they understood.
“Go back, or I’ll call the guard!” Tom said firmly, but kindly.
Again, Tom was greeted with a cynical, and overly confident, smile. From this, Tom concluded that the guard would be no help, except to clear the entire room, if there was a disturbance. Drawing upon his nerve, and some nerve he didn’t know he had, Tom pressed the point. He had finally accepted that ordinarily polite behavior would be rewarded with derision, and perceived as a weakness to be exploited. He had to stake a claim, and remain strong, if he expected not to get walked on. But, he needed a little help. He knew many others felt the same as he did, but again, being Nepali they couldn’t stand up to the scumbags without harsh repercussions later on.
”But,” Tom thought, “they might follow.”
Thus emboldened, he drew on a trump card that he felt fairly safe that he had - the exuberant Texan football players. Turning around, while still holding onto the guys’ shirt, Tom raised his voice so that it was audible along the entire line.
“Hey guys, was this guy ahead of us, or behind us?” he asked the Texans, with a comical smile.
Texans being Texans, the guys just laughed at Tom’s action, and quickly replied:
“The bugger was behind us, and slipped by.......sorry,” said one sardonically.
Since the ball was obviously now in play, so to speak, Tom continued on, more confidently.
“I think its time you went to where you were in line.”
Surprise registered on the man’s face. He wasn’t one of the important scumbags; those guys held themselves with unnatural assuredness. But he was used to getting his way, and being under their protection. This was an unexpected development, and it showed on his face.
Pressing the point further, the man kept defiant, and said: ”I was up there,” in a shaky voice.
Tom knew this wasn’t true, and the Texans could tell where this was going. Like the good ‘ole boys Tom expected them to be, they were always looking for ‘a little fun;’ and so while Tom was talking, they walked up behind him. They presented a wall-like appearance that only two 6’4”, 250 pound, unhappy linebackers could project. Tom sensed their physical proximity, and he saw it confirmed on the man’s face. By that time, everyone in the room was watching the growing situation. Most looked on with open delight; seeing something interesting, with a twisted sense of humor at another person’s discomfort.
Before anything could be said or done, the largest of the Texans reached past Tom and lifted the man, and set him down gently behind them in line. Tom began laughing, as did most of the people in the room. The young Texan grinned like a giant who’d just picked off an annoying flea. That stopped all movements in the lines; and everyone kept their places. The guard heartily approved with a big nod and open laugh. Tom realized that the guard probably had to deal with these situations everyday, and knew that he was only one person (a Nepali who still had to live in
“Hey, leave it to the Texans to enforce order, eh? Thanks for your help.”
“No problem, dude.”
While Thomas talked to the Texans, he found that they were really nice guys; and for the first time, he wished that he had waited for his huge friend John Waskom to accompany him on his trip. It was handy to have big muscle backup when needed; and the whole gentle giant thing was appealing to Tom. Until then, he hadn’t considered physical size as an element of comfort and safety. Most Indians, Nepali, and Chinese were smaller than Thomas; so physical size had never entered into his worries - unless there were more than two of them against himself.
“But, then again, I could hardly be invisible with big John with me, could I?” he rationalized, to himself.
“Have you guys been waiting many days for your Visas?” Tom asked.
“Nope, today is our first day. Got here early; and need to get our Visa’s to get out of the country.”
“Wow, you guys are lucky; a one day deal! I heard that the Chinese don’t want to issue any Visa’s to American tourists that aren’t on an expensive tour packages - where they can monitor them. Each tour has to have a Chinese guide, and a regular guide. They supposedly watch your every step.”
“Yeah, we heard that too. Just tell them that you need to go home, and are flying through
“Thanks for the information.”
“No problem, dude....it’s all good. His dad’s a diplomat, and they tell us stuff most people don’t know,” answered the quieter one.
The other one winced at this disclosure; but then laughed it off.
“Yeah, we are done partying here - that martial law thing really messed up our trip! We are ready to get home.”
“Thanks again, for all your help,” Tom said as he nodded in the direction of the now shrunken scumbag. The guy had accepted the inevitable, and kept to himself. When Tom turned back to face forward towards the main desk, however, he was rewarded with a blistering look from the overweight, chief scumbag. Then, he gave Tom a look of dismissal - a ‘stupid student soon to be gone,’ look.
“Guess my cover is working,” laughed Tom inwardly, at the main scumbag’s dismissive glare.
After a couple of hours in line, the cool, clean smelling, air of the room had dissipated; and was replaced by an overpowering and gut wrenching stench of weeks-old sweat, and excrement - remnants of poor hygiene from the unwashed group of people in the room. As the body heat raised the temperature of the room, sweat rolled off of Toms’ forehead, and down his back. His shirt eventually stuck to his body due to the sweat. The heat and smell was terrible; and got worse closer to the front of the lines, where people were literally packed on top of each other. The two women had two nasty choices; being close to groping guys, or being pressed against the counter and the wall of glass that rose to the ceiling. The Chinese clerk sat safely in a big, air-conditioned room beyond the thick glass; and viewed the desperate people with amused humor. The men gradually pressed forward, little by little, until the women were pinned against the glass. Tom wished there was something he could do, but he was too far away to help; as were the Texans behind him. The only consolation was that they would be served fairly quickly, since they were near the front of the line - even though they had moved slightly to the side, to minimize the groping. Then, it began; just when Tom thought: “Amen! We’re going to get this done! It sucks, but at least the effort’s going to be rewarded, and I won’t have to spend another day in this mess!”
He had resolved that if he didn’t get their Visas this day, he’d just give up. That wasn’t a good prospect to the strong-willed Thomas; but it was becoming more of a pain than it was worth. He wasn’t as stubborn as many men were, never giving up; feeling that they’d invested too much time to give up, and plugging on, regardless of the consequences to those around them, or how stupid they looked.
“Maybe one more day,” he said to himself, “Andre is losing his patience too.”
While Tom considered this, the clerk stood up; pristine, in his clean white shirt. He had sat, for over an hour, writing and reading behind the privacy of his briefcase as everyone on Tom’s side of the glass awaited his acknowledgement of their undeniable presence. As he stood up, the crowd surged forward towards the glass wall. Tom was out of patience and upset that he and the Texans were the only ones trying to keep any sense of order. As the crowd surged forward, the women were crushed by the weight of the men, and compressed against the thick glass. One was screamed, but no one listened. It was then that Tom understood the group dynamics of a fire in a crowded building, or a mad rush at a soccer match in
“This is a man’s job; and they shouldn’t have tried,” was the attitude.
No one protected the women. The crowd’s rocking motion became a pushing and pulling movement; back and forth, like a human wave breaking upon the stationary people. They were simply perceived as impediments to the other’s goal. It became a concerted effort to break those we weren't tough enough to withstand the pressure; to pummel and trample them out of the way, so that the most persistent could prevail, and make it to the clerk first. Then, to add insult to injury, the strongest amongst the group began laughing as they surged forward and back. It hit Tom like a thunderbolt. The men were doing it on purpose, to squeeze out whoever was weakest; so that one of their group could press his way ahead. It worked, and the number one scumbag was all of a sudden at the front of Tom’s line - with roughly 25 passports in his hand. Rage, mixed with fear for the women, came out of Tom in a way he had never expected. He motioned to the Texans behind him, and yelled: “those girls up there are pinned. Hold back as many as you can, to keep them from being crushed.”
Once his back was covered, Tom stood up as tall as he could......which compared to the relatively short Indians and Nepali's, was high enough to be seen by all......and, he bellowed out a howl he didn’t know he had inside him. It was one of those emergency situations where something terrible was about to happen to your kids, like being trapped under a car; and the parent lifts the car up with sheer adrenalin. Tom couldn’t tell anyone afterwards where the voice had come from, but it was there, and undeniable.
“God damn it!! Are you just a pack of fucking animals? You are killing those women up there. Back off ...NOW!!” his voice commanded, as his body forced the group backwards.
Once again, the room was at silent attention, and Tom was the center of it. But he knew that he wouldn’t have their attention for long; he knew he had to think quickly, and say the right thing. He had only one chance, before total chaos broke out. Trusting an inner instinct, he let it just spill out. He knew that the men didn’t have guilt feelings about anything; and therefore didn’t care about others. So, he knew that appealing to their non-existent good natures wouldn’t do any good.
“But, they do care about their reputations, and how they are perceived. Their fragile egos are like the bus drivers,” he concluded, quickly to himself. So, he decided to insult them as best as he could, to stop the tide from literally crushing the women.
“Did your mothers raise only dogs? What kind of whores were they? You’re being worse than fucking animals!” he boomed in a deep, resonate, and compelling voice that he hadn’t known he possessed.
“They are just goddamn Visas! Pieces of paper! Are they worth trampling each other over? The ones that win at this game are pigs....only the strongest pigs....not men! If we don’t act like humans, they will shut the window; and no one will get Visas today! We have to be orderly; THEN, they will give us Visas. He can’t do anything while we push. We have to get back into lines!”
At that, the intentional pushing stopped - while the men considered what to do. They didn’t care about Thomas; but they weren’t into fighting either, and what he had said sank in. The Chinese man behind the window stood still; patiently watching everyone eager to get what he had, at seemingly any cost. He was playing his cards right, according to his culture. But he couldn’t conduct any business either, when people were pressed against the glass so tightly, that they couldn’t move. He stood immobile, condescending; and totally unrepentant for the way the embassy fostered this kind of reaction, by not handling the crowds, and requests for Visa’s, in a logical manner. He then looked out, directly at Tom, and his face reflected both disappointment and appreciation. The disappointment was in losing his entertainment, and in the defeat of his reason for not having to work. His appreciation, however, was for not having to deal with a total mess. Tom wasn’t sure if he had helped himself, or shot himself dead.
“Oh the hell with it!” he thought
“I wouldn’t get a Visa anyway, if this mess continued; and I couldn’t forgive myself, if those girls were really got hurt, and I hadn’t done anything to help.”
Once again, he had faced another situation where it was all-or-nothing, go-for-broke. He fully expected to get nothing but aggravation for the effort; but it had to be done, and he couldn’t stand by and watch things go to hell without at least trying something. Again, he felt like he was being forced into a leadership position that he didn’t want; but couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore.
“Jesus, haven’t I learned anything yet?” he admonished himself.
“I’m still thrown into the center of things. Or, am I putting myself into things?” he worried.
“Nope,” he answered himself, quickly.
“I have no choice; otherwise I wouldn’t be who I am. WhatEver the hell that is!” he admonished himself.
While the people had been taking in Tom’s sudden, and totally unexpected, outburst...... and he had been absorbed in silently beating himself up.....the Texans physically shoved the men further back, and waded their way to the girls - parting the field of short men, like stalks of corn. As Tom came back to awareness of those around him, he saw that the girls were safe. Then, an odd thing happened. The biggest scumbag said something in Nepali. It was terse, not too loud, but heard by everyone - particularly the other scumbags, who were orchestrating the mess though their concerted pushing. Everyone listened, and suddenly, lines, albeit not great ones, formed - and the clerk began processing visa applications. After the big scumbag got his pile of Visas, the line moved fairly quickly; as did the line alongside Tom’s. Then, another clerk showed up and started working. As Tom approached the window himself, he could hear the two women arguing desperately with the other clerk. They kept trying to explain something, but they met a blank stare. Evidently they didn’t have some papers that they needed, and he didn’t issue them Visas. They left in tears, and pressed their way outside. When it was Tom’s turn, he handed the clerk Andre’s passport and his together; along with the applications and a pile of cash. The man read Andre’s Belgian passport, and looked right at Tom, before he spoke.
“You want to go
Stammering, Tom replied. Weak from heat, sweat, and the big confrontation, he spoke quietly and with much deference.
“My friend, that’s his passport; and mine is below it. He’s outside waiting for me. We want to go home as fast as we can, so we are flying back through
“Where is plane ticket?”
“Oh, I work for Changeant airlines.....here is my ticket.”
Tom handed him the paper flight request form that they handed out at the ticket counters at home. Once again, he was glad that he had brought them along. Someone had told him that non-revenue standby travel was often hard to explain to people overseas; since they didn’t always have standby travel; so a piece of paper....whatever it said.....was ‘a ticket’ in their eyes. It was something for the airline to process...eventually....so it was accepted. Tom had filled out one for him, and one for Andre as a backup safeguard.
“Once I get Visa, we book specific flight,” Tom continued bravely, and quietly.
Giving Tom his standard disgusted look that clearly said: ‘you make me work so - but I do you favor anyway. You lucky!’
Choking on unspoken words, Tom silently recited his mantra de jure: ‘get the visa, get the visa, keep calm, keep calm.’
So outwardly, Tom looked calm and collected - like the whole exercise was a boring thing, and the Visa wasn’t something that he really desired. He tried to project: ’I just need to go through
Somewhat satisfied, the man said nothing, but remained still. Tom guessed that he was trying to see if Tom would spill out something else, under pressure - like the girls had. He didn’t. He held quiet, and waited. Then, the man counted, and re-counted, the cash and placed it in his briefcase. He pulled out two Visa stickers, and filled out a log book to his left. Then, he did something with his right hand.....making notations on some hidden papers, and placed the applications in the drawer in front of him. Then, with all the paperwork done, he picked up both passports, opened Andre’s passport, and put a big gray Visa sticker in it. Closing Andre’s passport, he opened Toms’ passport, and his eyes popped wide open. He’d just realized that Tom’s wasn’t Belgian like Andre’s, it was American. His face turned red, and he was obviously angry. Tom feared that he wouldn’t be given the Visa, based on some ludicrous excuse like the girls had obviously gotten; but he then realized that the man had already done the paperwork, and took the cash...so, he would have to admit a mistake if he reversed the entry. All this played out on his face, while Tom held his breath. Disgusted, he put the Visa into Tom’s passport and handed it all back to Tom. Tom didn’t waste a minute getting out, and avoided his eyes; muttering “thank you,” as he left.
Tom had to press his way back out, through the crowd behind him; but they were curiously non obtrusive, and he left unimpeded. He noticed that he got looks of admiration from the good Nepali, as he left. It was nice, and he felt better about everything. Once outside, he met up with an anxious Andre.
“What happened in there? What a stupid way to do business! In
“Long story, guy...long story. Will tell you over a beer or two, ok? The good news is that we got our Visas!!! Yeah!!”
“Good thing, I was tired of waiting.”
Sighing with exasperation, Tom just laughed.
“Me too. Me too. Lets get out of here; I hate this place and don’t want any trouble.”
As they left, Tom and Andre walked past the young women, sitting on a rock and talking. Interrupting their conversation, Tom spoke to them.
“Hey, are you two ok? What a mess in there, eh? I was worried about you guys getting hurt. I never expected that getting visas could be a life threatening experience, huh?”
Tom tried to lighten the mood. They weren't crying anymore, but were still visibly upset by the terrible experience.
“Why wouldn’t they give you Visas?”
“They said we had to be in a tour group to go into
“Yeah, you can’t make it too complicated, huh? They seem to be very restrictive, and have specific things that they allow, and many they don’t allow. The problem is that they don’t tell you ahead of time which ones they allow. What are your plans now?”
“We can either get tickets, and come back to this place, or change our route. Don’t really know what we are doing yet.”
“Well, it’s good to know you guys are ok.”
“Yeah, thanks for your help getting in; that door frame really hurt!”
“No problem, take care.”
It was clear to Tom, that they weren't in any mood to talk anymore, nor to share their plans. They were secretive and evasive; and while they were shaken up by the incidents inside, they were not dissuaded.
“Strong women,” thought Tom.
“Strong, and stubborn, women. Whatever! You did what you could, now let go,” he reminded himself.
While he considered this, the Texans came out of the building with big
“Guys.....how did you do? Get them?”
“Yep, no big deal.....his dad and all. We had a letter, and we had plane tickets.”
“What’re your plans?”
“We leave tomorrow.”
“Wow, that's fast. Where to?”
“
“Well, thanks again for your help. I’m not sure where I’d have been without you guys.”
“Hey, no problem.....you were awesome in there, dude! Besides, it was kind of fun! Those little guys are such a trip, man.”
“Yeah, I get it. Have a good trip!! See ya!”
Andre was waiting impatiently a few steps away.
“What happened in there, Thomas?” he asked quizzically.
“Oh I’ll tell you later....no biggie. You probably won‘t believe me anyway,” Tom sighed.
Tom was relieved to finally overcome their last obstacle to
“Maybe that's it,” he wondered, silently.
“I’ve always put myself second, after those whom I love. Maybe I just need to love me first, without the guilt of doing that; and finally giving full reign to my internal voice.”
Tom had always had been an ‘old’ person; feeling more comfortable in the presence of elders than his peers, and seeing beyond his years in the understanding of people and things. When unsure what to do, he had let his inner voice guide his decisions, and the results were often right. Yet, he always held that voice in tight reign, and only allowed it an advisory role. Now, however, he thought that maybe it was time to give it full freedom, and see where it took him. So far, as he had given his voice more authority and come on this journey, it had been a wild ride through
“What was that ‘live in the open mountains of
“Thomas, what is wrong? You seem so odd since the Embassy. What is it you say to me now?” asked Andre, sincerely, as they sped along in their cab.
“Nothing; it’s just a random thing popping out of my head. I was thinking out loud, obviously. Sorry. The Embassy was a mess, and I don’t want to relive it. Just know that you being Belgian got us our Visas; the Chinese aren’t liking Americans right now. And, that I’ve had my fill of ruthless Hindu men. They nearly crushed those girls inside; and would have found it funny if they had. These men aren’t much of a threat alone, but in groups they act like rabid dogs. I now understand their fear of riots around here. If you get a few hundred of them going, you’ve got a big mess! I had to get really obnoxious in there, and I’m not really happy with my behavior. I lost a lot of my calming Dharma points in there today; but I didn’t seem to have any alternative, without allowing those guys to trash the girls....and I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“You speak of those two women from
“Yes. Unfortunately, the men inside gave them tons of fuel for hating men. Hell, sometimes I hate men! Well, not men, per se; but what they allow to happen. If that place had been full of women.....”
“I don’t know about men and lesbians, Thomas; but haven’t you ever been to a ‘one day sale’ at Macy’s? You risk your life to go there! No? We see it on the news, in
“God, I do love you sometimes, Andre! You can make me laugh at anything!”
“Try not to take it all so seriously, Thomas. I know it isn’t easy, but you torture yourself needlessly. You are a good man! Do what you can, and as you always say......then let go. That is enough. That is all we can do. Come; let us enjoy the rest of our day. We are going to T-bet!” he said cheerily.
"Ok, it’s a steak dinner tonight?”
“Deal, my American friend!”
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