Since the announcement of the resignation of the Prime Minister, aka “Prachanda“, I have had the intuitive feeling that this is simply the calm before the storm. On the outside Kathmandu appears to be business as usual, and then add a little extra peace into the equation. I can’t decide if it feels false or forced.

Today I spent the afternoon hanging around my neighborhood, Bouddhanath. I went outside of the inner circle surrounding the stupa and out to the main road. There were huge boulders of concrete blocking the road and all the shops were closed. It seemed surreal and tranquil.

I decided to ask around, with a couple of questions coming to mind. What time did the blockades go up? Did people anticipate a protest? And lastly the general question; What’s going on? Though I thought that I knew the answer.

No one could tell me what time it began, though often saying that they will be gone in the evening. No comment about the protests, not even an indecipherable head bobble. But as to what was going on, I received one answer which I thought was truly priceless: “People don’t like the dust. It goes into their shops and it’s dirty. So they closed everything.” That had to be the best thing I had heard in weeks.

So I continued to sit around on the steps of shops that line the streets. About every half hour I moved to a new location.

I met an adorable shoe shine boy from Rajasthan. I also met his drunk and disgusting cousin, to whom I lied and said that I had a very large and handsome husband in the states. Then, of course, it was time again to move on.

The only excitement was when a police truck came zooming through the street and decided to go around the road block on the sidewalk, only to find that there was a motorcycle in the way. Since no one offered to move it, despite all of the commanding. They finally got off their rears, out of the truck, and decided that the smart thing to do was to deflate the tires. Though not moving it first. Someone finally took ownership and moved the bike. There was quite a bit of shouting, but not much else.

Two Nepal policemen deflate tires.

So after nearly three hours of sitting on the stoops with the locals, drinking chai, smoking a couple of cigarettes, and being hit on by a drunk Rajasthani, I grabbed my gear and headed back to the stupa and eventually home.

But not without taking time for one of the benefits of living in Baudha, I walked a few rounds of kora around the stupa, and took a little time to enjoy and contemplate all it is that I love about Nepal.

Sunset at the Bouddhanath Stupa