06 May 2012

Dear Pokhara,

I'm leaving today. I'm sorry it didn't work out. We just didn't click. Everyone told me how great you were and I was really looking forward to meeting you. Maybe my expectations were too high. Or maybe I just have too much baggage. My last girl, Everest really did a number on me. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. She could be cruel to others but she was kind to me. Sure there were days when our relationship felt like an uphill battle, but I loved her intensely. She sent me packing in the end, down, down, down like all the rest, but I think of her often.

You were supposed to be different, warm and gentle--a pretty girl I could relax and be myself around. But, Baby we were doomed from the start. The bus ride to your place was bumpy, dusty and hot. I expected to see you when I stepped off and instead you sent your lackeys, your taxi drivers and hotel operators. They pushed and shoved and shouted and in all the confusion I lost my reading glasses, which are going to be expensive to replace btw.

And do you remember how you greeted me when I finally saw you? You kicked up a storm. You blew dust in my face and rained on me and then you went dark. I was expecting a sunny hello, but I guess that was too much to ask.

And to think I gushed over you. I talked endlessly about lying in your hammocks and swimming in your lake. But, you didn't put the hammocks out did you? And I refuse to swim in your lake. You're a dirty girl, Pokhara. I man has to have standards.

We weren't attracted to each other, so be it, but we could have been friends. You throw the best parties in Nepal, everyone says so. I was really looking forward to your scene, but you shut-it down didn't you? You emptied your streets and closed your bars early and you made sure there was no chance of me finding someone else in your house. That was petty, Pokhara. Be a star not a diva.

I'll admit you weren't completely lacking in hospitality. I slept ok. I found a Saul Bellow book that I've been looking all over Asia for in one of your bookstores. And your food was decent. The fried chicken with the spicy sauce that Blake and I drunkenly ate sitting on the curb next to stray dogs was particularly good.

But! But! Not ten minutes after that I dropped my water bottle and it rolled into a ditch beside one of your neglected roads. You could have warned me what was down there. You could have sent up an olfactory clue. Instead you let me plunge my hand in knowing it wasn't mud down there. At least it didn't smell like mud. People mud perhaps. Yak mud maybe. A people, yak mud swirl most likely. I had to soap my arms up to the elbows three times before I went to sleep that night you miserable...

You're a proud woman, Pokhara and I know this will be difficult for you to read, but please know that I wanted this to work. I wanted us to work. And I tried, I really did.

Who knows, maybe I didn't see you for who you truly are. Maybe I have, Everest too much on my mind. Or maybe I'm just a ramblin man. I'm off to see Chitwan. I hear she has rhinos.


MB Abroad  

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