The little realisation of a city rat

Anybody who came from a metropolis living in Nepal would definitely agree with me- that we had too many distractions back home. We’re constantly online, either updating our status on Facebook or Twitter, checking out new videos and MVs on Youtube, chatting with friends on MSN or Gtalk, downloading the latest albums, reading tech/sports news online, doing research for a new computer/laptop/MP3 player/mobile phone, and watching American TV (seriously guys, stop watching Glee already) on our computers.

We always complain we’re short of time; we don’t have enough time to read a good book, spend time with family and friends, engage in sports, go for short strolls at the park and sometimes we even complain of not having enough time to have proper meals.

Coming to Nepal did make me appreciate many things in life. I don’t mean I’m starting to like it here, but at least I’m taking time out of my annoying office life to enjoy a life here. Like for example. I finally found time to READ. The newspapers here are ridiculously thin, but at least I have time to read them, attempt the daily crossword puzzle, reading a copy of Newsweek, and read through back copies of Archies. I also recently bought a copy of 1984.

I also realise I can see the stars here every night. I could see every constellation clearly (though my astronomy class has failed me) but at least I could tell my mom the thing that looks like a pot is the Big Dipper. We were pointing at the skies so intently at the open air restaurant (New Orleans, excellent steak there) that it got the waiter interested too, in what we were looking at.

The nights are so silent here. The lack of street lights also meant that my bedroom is in complete darkness, even with the curtains drawn open at night when I sleep. I don’t get midnight buses screeching down the street as it was back at home. I could hear my thoughts bounce off walls here.

And I’m spending more time with my mother. Obviously I still don’t enjoy telling her everything that happened in the workday and I get annoyed when she starts cooking dinner the moment I reach home from work (dinner at 5.30pm, CRAZINESS!) but at least now when I get home I’m not facing a blasting TV and her back to me playing solitaire. Sharing a room with her also meant that I no longer can hide behind a door, shut up in my own world, listening to my music and ignoring everybody else.

The availability and variety of food here is ridiculous. There’s no such thing as Gardenia bread here, their version is an incredibly hard and flaky version that makes any Singaporean angry when trying to spread peanut butter on top, because the bread crumbs flake off before the butter actually sticks on top of the bread.

There are no coffee shops or food centres or hawker centres here. Their version of Chinese food here is ridiculous- and that’s also because of the lack of food ingredients. (And obviously, not having had real Chinese cuisine before.) My mother took a few days to find a place that sold garlic, and the vegetables here are all stunted. Pop corn at any level here are plain (not even butter, salty or sweet, they are JUST pop corn) and the cakes at pastry shops are ridiculously unfluffy and not even close to the real thing. My colleague told me a certain shop near office sold decent cheesecake, so one lunch hour we went there, ordered a slice of cheesecake and a slice of chocolate cake, both proven to be extremely disappointing. (It felt more like yoghurt on top than real whipped cheese, and you can forget about the oreos… No such thing… The pastry at the bottom… I rather eat my handphone.)

Then it suddenly struck me how good I had it in Singapore. I could stand next to Singapore river and not smell it. (Try standing next to Bagmati river for 5 minutes, you'd faint.) Hanging out with a few Brits over the weekend did remind me that I was the one who wanted to get out of my safety bubble, I was the one who wanted to see the world. And of course I’m the one suffering now, but I finally know how much we take things for granted in our comfortable lives.

I never finish my food if it’s unpalatable (I remember how my friends used to gauge whether the food was good by how much food I actually put in my mouth in Singapore) and just leave it to order something else, but over here, I’ve learnt not to waste food. Even if you can’t finish it, pack it back for the office dog so that he gets a lunch too. If I can’t finish something because there’s too much, I should pack it and save it as a snack later. Never, never waste food. Because there is always someone or some creature out there who wished that they had a full tummy.

It may be true that a country like Nepal will never be a comfortable stay for city rats like us, but how would one know how far your limits are until you’ve pushed it?


As originally posted in Oh Hai!, Eunice Chan's photography blog.