Kathmandu is so disgusting, dirty, and intense that I can’t help but want to escape this place, even briefly, whenever possible. On my walk to the bookstore yesterday I longingly gazed into little cafes, ice cream shops, and even a pizza hut imagining a little oasis of peace. Who knew you could find peace in a pizza hut? Come to Kathmandu and you will understand.
My family here has a dog named Jenny. Note—Jenny is a boy. My family laughed at me when I called Jenny a girl. They also laughed at me when I asked what kind of meat we were eating and they said “kukura,” to which I exclaimed, “KUKUR?!???” (dog). It turns out that when you add an “a” to kukur it means chicken. This is now the running joke of the family whenever we eat kukura. I’ve run into a few other pronunciation issues with Nepali recently. I was practicing how to ask my mother to teach me how to cook Nepali food. One of our lecturers overheard me and proceeded to tell me that I was asking my mother how to seduce someone. Obviously I was mortified.
Some of my favorite Nepali words:
Bongo tingo (windy road)
Uku smukus (full)
Rangi changi (colorful)
Chijbij (stuff)
Agli (tall girl)
Agli (tall girl)
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