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JacobGodshallFirstEssay 5 - 31 May 2017 - Main.JacobGodshall
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| META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstEssay" |
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Ke Garne? | |
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< | We walk among the ruined temples of Durbar Square, and Manoj falls into his tour guide schtick telling me Hindu epics of sex and murder, secrets of the Kumari princess and conspiracy theories of the Palace Massacre--Indian spies, the King’s brother, the CIA. It’s a year after the Earthquake and bricks and mortar still litter the ground. Outside Kathmandu, it’s worse. “What happened to the money, the $4 billion?” I ask. | >
> | We walk among the ruined temples of Durbar Square, and Manoj falls into his tour guide shtick telling me Hindu epics of sex and murder, secrets of the Kumari princess and conspiracy theories of the Palace Massacre--Indian spies, the King’s brother, the CIA. It’s a year after the Earthquake and bricks and mortar still litter the ground. Outside Kathmandu, it’s worse. “What happened to the money, the $4 billion?” I ask. | | | “It’s still only money,” says Manoj, “This is the problem. Something about paperwork.” He laughs his quiet laugh and sighs, “ Ke garne? Jiban yestai chha. ” What to do? Such is life. This is the phrase you say when you are dealt a shitty hand, but you do not fold because you can’t and you wouldn’t if you could. It is sad and funny and resilient, and it is what I like about Manoj. | | | They sit in lines, handcuffed together in strings of ten. They are dressed in street clothes, the typical knock-off brands of Nepal--sweatshirts and jackets with American corporate brands like Facebook, Apple and Angry Birds, shirts silk screened with photos of Sid Vicious. Their expression is of boredom, and I think at this moment that this is the only emotion that can overcome fear. For they are so young, and I can’t imagine what jail would be like in Nepal.
After a time, Manoj returns and the lawyers begin to shuffle into their rooms.“How did it go?” I ask. He pauses for a time. | |
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< | “It’s for my brother, he’s having some troubles in Bahrain. I think this will require some more work.” And his face doesn’t doesn’t betray much, but his shoulders look heavier, and he is disappointed. He just pats my back and says, “We will watch for a little while.” | >
> | “It’s for my brother, he’s having some troubles in Bahrain. I think this will require some more work.” And his face doesn’t betray much, but his shoulders look heavier, and he is disappointed. He just pats my back and says, “We will watch for a little while.” | | | And so we pick one of the little courtrooms, no larger than a storage shed, and find seats in the back. A man stands in the front of the room by the judge, hands cuffed behind his back, while a woman stands next to him speaking rapid Nepali . It’s too fast for me, but I enjoy the performance, the quick parries back and forth between the woman and the judge, a third man to the right occasionally interjecting in loud decisive bursts. The judge eventually nods, and the handcuffed man turns to take his seat, but the only one left is beside me. So he walks to the back and sits beside me and no one seems to mind. |
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