Happy Thanksgiving

Well, Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I am happy to announce that there will be no rice at my Thanksgiving and that is what I am thankful for. The other interns and I found this place that is doing a Thanksgiving buffet; it's a little expensive but I don't care. For this Thanksgiving I am truly grateful for the experiences I meet every day here, the friends I have made in Kathmandu who make my work bearable by helping me laugh at the end of the day, and my friends and family, both past and present who in one way or another are the reason why I am who I am. I love you and thank you. I know I have said this in every message, but I have decided that I will not let any person leave my life without them knowing what they have meant to me first.
It has been a pretty crazy couple of weeks here. Just the other day, this crazy homeless woman named Angie, whom I walk by every day was speaking into her cucumber like it was a cell phone, but she was nice enough to put down her call and say high to me as I passed. Yesterday I was visiting with some street friends when one of the guys high on glue just came up and swung at one of my friends. She fought back instantly and with a force I would never call upon anyone. Her older sister then jumped in and all three were in headlocks. I didn't know if I should help in a situation that was none of my business, snap some shots, or go pick up Sabitri's (the older sister's) baby . I decided that it wasn't my business to step in as much as I wanted to help my two friends and snapped one shot before my card filled up, and then I went and picked up Mukti, the baby. After several bloody bights and some pulled clumps of hair, the girls won and left. I found them soon after, almost laughing about it. I am not certain I can be a war correspondent. I don't think I can step out of myself and simply be an observer, there will always be a drive to help and it could get me in big trouble or killed. I will have to think about it. Oh, but also just last week there was a protest because the Maoists killed somebody, so shops were supposed to shut down and people were not supposed to drive. On this day my friend and I go to buy some bus tickets out of town. As we are buying the tickets the shop keeper out of no where sends his friend to go shut the metal garage door behind us. So now we are in this pitch black office and all we hear is shouting and stomping and then we hear glass breaking in the room above our heads followed by some loud thuds. It soon passes and we are aloud to leave the office. Everywhere is broken glass and bricks from the riot. Later that day I was walking down the street and I see this small group of people stopping traffic. They stop all motorcyclists and tell them to walk their cycles the rest of the way and if they wouldn't then they would pull the keys from the cyclists ignition and walk away. Cyclists who tried to plow through the crowd either had their bike damaged by some very firm kicks or were almost pulled off their bikes until they stopped. I could have written all of this in much greater detail but I figured quicker would be better for this kind of medium. I'll put up some more photos soon, and I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving. Oh, and thanks for the comments, I love reading them, Seth.