Happy New Year.

It's New Year's Eve today and I am feeling quite good. I found a Sitar for only $150 but I think I can talk the guy down, so I have been debating on whether I should get it. It's a fairly difficult instrument, but it seems it would be a lot of fun, plus it won't be cheaper anywhere else. Another reason I feel good is because today I received some very pleasing information. Last week a street friend of mine left her home to sleep near the public toilets because she was being beaten by her husband. When she left, he sold all of her things and so now she has nothing and no one will give her a job because she has no home now and is thus assumed to be a thief by many employers, but she can't afford a home without a job; quite the catch 22. But today a friend who I contacted about the situation told me that a new program is starting in Feb. and as long as she is clean and doesn't have HIV I can get her on the list. I just hope that my friend has the commitment to stick with the six month program. Christmas was great. Interns from all over the world and Nepali all coming together. My friend got me a righteous Iron Maiden T-shirt, I wore it for 4 days straight. I saw my first Baliwood film yesterday, "Ghaji". It was the movie "Memento" on every drug imaginable, only one word could describe the film, supercrazyoffthehookmaddinsane. All this and the fact that it is almost a new year is reason for my excitement. Work has slowed to almost a stop as far as photos are concerned. New shots are harder to find, but I still try every day, some days with more enthusiasm than others. The exhibition is Jan 22, 2009, so we have also been working to get that set up. I only have a little over a month left in Nepal and I have started writing all of the little details down so that I won't forget them, the list grows and grows every day. Any way, I love you all and hope you have a great New Year's Eve and an even better new year. Seth.

7:30 am. I open my eyes and listen to the merchants and beggars outside my window shouting their services or crying their needs, always in the same escalating tone every morning, "pariGANHO!" or something like that. I still lie in bed fully dressed and wrapped in my sleeping bag because there is no indoor heating in Kathmandu. I eventually rise to go outside and the air is crisp and sweet, I have many times read the description of sweet air in books but always thought it was some sort of poetic statement for literature's sake. Despite the lack of white around me and the grinning cinnamon faces unconcerned with a holiday such as mine, it still feels like Christmas. Didi (big sister in Nepali) calls me to breakfast. A hard boiled egg, bread with jam and some milk tea. She apologizes, as she does every morning, for sleeping in and thus why the meager breakfast. I say that it is alright, hiding my disappointment, knowing on days when she does get up early enough, it's French toast.
On my two to three mile trek to my office, a.k.a. downtown Kathmandu, I daydream of unimportant things and then try to remember that I am in Nepal and should not simply admire the sidewalk with my gaze. Along the sidewalk I run into some friends of mine, six to twelve years old, running into traffic to sell postcards and posters to tourists and generous Nepali, (money is more immediately important than school). They stop me and we shake hands; they ask when is Christmas and I tell them just a few days more. "And then sweets!?" "Yes, and then sweets." I say good by and head further into Thamel. The boys here are much more aggressive with their questions and demands than the kids working the traffic. You can imagine them, six sometimes more, huddled close to me, feeling my pockets, touching my camera and occasionally playfully trying to hit me in the groin. Soon they all settle down with a communal cigarette and begin to tell me that the local police have told them to leave, that they can't sleep here anymore. "This is our Territory, where will we go?" their eyes cry at me. I tell them I will bring them the number of a person who can help. They say "Tomorrow?" I respond and go on my way.
Upon my walk, a man sitting on the side yells out, "Sir I like your shoes, please may I ask how much?" I have been approached many times like this, although never about the shoes, sometimes it's my camera or my jacket, but either way I sluggishly walk over to him knowing what is to come and try to express my impatience. "I don't know this brand what is it?" referring to my Nike's. "It is the same as your jacket." I reply, with a cunning tone letting him know I am on to him. After the niceties are through he begins to tell me of how he would like to chat over some tea just as a friendly Nepali gesture, I tell him no thank you, knowing that he owns a jewelry store and is looking for business. He responds as if I have been rude, "You have no time for me?" and I want to say, "No I don't have time for you. I don't have time for Liars and Looters, Scoundrels and schemes. It is you sir who give Nepal a bad name and I will not burden my soul with your scummy presence." But all I manage is, "I am very busy."
As I continue on, I soak everything in. The old woman smoking on the stupa watching her peppers and the potential buyer walk past. To the left are mounds of intestines and ox jaws on a table, of which I have no idea for their use. And amongst all of this: beads, blankets, pots and shoes all with their corresponding sales person shouting out their bargains. The prices all sound so good, but I know as a white, I will pay double. I find more of my friends further down than from their normal hang out. No marbles today, just some glue, some talk and some tag. The group is too big to approach and will only cause a scene if I enter, so I turn around an walk away, but one of the boys spots me and yells, "SATI!" (friend). I turn and am swarmed by a cloud of arms, hands questions and eyes all begging for my attention and affection. One boy starts to nibble on my arm like a dog playing with his master, (I have come to recognize this as a form of love generally only shown when huffing glue) while another boy slides next to me and looks through my camera. Then another friend comes up and says, "No condom, no ramro." (no condom, no good) confirming the lesson from the other day of HIV and the risk of syringes and unprotected sex. One boy understanding my distress amongst so many kids, pulls them away and says "Goodbye Sati." I thank him and go on my way.
After this I begin my three mile walk home and mentally beat myself up over not having the courage to take some photos that I see pass me by due to the embarrassment of explaining myself or apologizing if the party becomes upset. I tell myself I will do better tomorrow and move forward. Soon after, I make eye contact with a very beautiful woman; it was only a moment but things like this have a tendency to feel a whole lot longer, she brakes contact and begins to stare in another direction but at nothing in particular, passively giving me permission to admire. I thank her with my eyes and sweep by as if the whole thing never happened.
I have one more stop before I get home; it's with a street family, whom I care for very much and have come to call the Jamal Family, (Jamal being the location in Kathmandu). they aren't there today and so I talk a little with the local watch mender, a woman with a lovely face, large proportion and a look that would make any police officer freeze. I then again start for home and think of Christmas day. The gifts I have bought for my family and friends and the smiles they will bring, and me getting out of a cab on Christmas day with a large garbage bag filled with things for my less fortunate friends, much like a Garbage Santa. In the sack will be over twenty empty plastic bottles for the Jamal Family, they can get ten Rupees a piece for them. My old hat, belt, and shirts that no longer fit me since I began this Nepali diet. And chocolates and photographs for all the rest, giving a smile and a memory to them all.
I hope you enjoyed my day as much as I did. Please know that on this Christmas there isn't a single one of you that escapes my thoughts. For this new year I hope all the best for your plans, and may you enjoy your time wherever you find yourself as much as I have here. I love you all and will talk with you later, Seth.

New photos

I am sorry it took so long but I finally put up some new photos. All of these photos were taken the first two weeks I was here so they have been sitting for some time now. I also apologize that they are so small and that there are none with me in them, next time though. Work is hard, finding new subjects and locations has been very difficult, I hope I will have enough when I come back home. Every day I go out and stroll Kathmandu, looking for new friends as well as old. Sometimes I will sit for an hour or two hanging out and other times it is merely a high and by deal, but every time I see them, a grin shoots across their faces and I am lifted up beyond my exhaustion and heartache and frustration. I love the friends I have made on the streets and it pains me very much to see what they have to deal with, mostly with the adults. The children are given the opportunities needed to pick themselves up from this mess, however the older generation of the streets are labeled as no good thieves and addicts, who can't be trusted and it only be the fool who gives them a chance. The faces of my friends and their difficulties here will be forever left in my mind, always in my thoughts; I just don't know what to do. It will be hard when I come home.
I usually walk the same way through Kathmandu everyday, and thus certain characters have come to recognize me and we say hello every time we pass, (crazy Angie with the cucumber being one of them). But on my walk every day, I pass this security guard; he looks to be about 50 years old, 5'10" with a grey mustache and a nice security cap. Well, one night I was walking home from work and I stop to salute him and say goodnight as usual and then to my surprise and completely unprovoked, he gives me a hug. That afternoon hadn't been a particularly horrible day, but even good days on the street have a tendency to be emotionally overwhelming in one way or another, and this hug fixed all that was broken. I believe it was one of the best hugs I have ever had in my life. He simply hugged me snug and long, not shy about others around us, not letting go until his point was made. He seemed to know all my worries and then just took them away with his care, saying without actually saying, "You are good, this is a lot to deal with, and you won't fail." To those who have finals around now, I wish you the best of luck, to those without finals, I hope all is well. I hope you like the photos, I love you and will talk to you later, Seth.

I bought myself some class.

Well, I know that some of you will be very pleased to know that I went out the other day and bought me a bit of some class. I was discussing with a fellow intern how cheap everything is here and it struck me that there would be no better place to by a tailored suit than in Kathmandu where it's 80 Rupees to the dollar. So my friend and I went out and found a tailor, and it was actually pretty fun, acting all high society picking out colors and materials. I bought some of the best material in the store with a very nice dark charcoal color, solid, no pattern. I am pretty excited to get the suit. With the fitting and the cost of the material, the suit cost me $130. I don't think that's bad, I assume it would be more in the states, maybe I'm wrong, that and I have never had a suit, especially one for all occasions. My wardrobe consists only of clothing I still have from high school, some which I bought at the Salvation Army, and free shirts that I have acquired through any of many charitable events, so to have clothes that will fit my body as they probably should will be an interesting change. Maybe I'll even let some of you try on the jacket... oh wait, I can't, it was tailored just for me, sorry. I then went out an got a shave and a haircut for about $1.25, boy did I feel sharp.
On a different note, work has been of mixed enthusiasm lately. I have all and more of the photos necessary for the exhibition for the human rights group and now I just need to edit the 25 we have selected and I'm done. Which is nice I guess because I feel I have photographed most of what I can with the children I have gotten to know and it may be time to move on. For two months I have been walking the streets of Kathmandu, playing with them, talking with them a little with my very broken Nepali, and photographing them. I have begun to feel like that guy from "Never Cry Wolf" or Jane Goodall. I haven't seen some of the boys for a couple of weeks now, I know that they rotate groups pending on resource availability or disagreements with others in the gang but I can't find them. Sometimes they just go off and when I try to follow they insist that I stay because where they are going is too far. New boys have come into the groups recently and they seem to like me just fine. Sometimes I will just sit with them and watch foot traffic go by and they will start stroking my beard, roughing my hair, and rubbing the fuzz on my arms while others inspect each other for mites. They just want affection, but they also don't want rules, so how does one help them. I have decided that even though the photographs are done and the show is in Jan. I am going to continue my work in Kathmandu. I am going to try to build an even stronger body of work to bring back to the states and do all that is in my power to publish a book. This means starting all over again, finding new locations with different kids and even trying to get some street girls as well. I am not certain of my success, but every time I go out and see my friends, it gives me new strength. In the last blog, I mentioned Baby Mukti. For two months I have watched this girl growing up with her family on the streets, only able to sit up and smile. Today she was standing under own strength, putting away a bucket of noodles. She is why I won't stop. Today I have decided that I love telling stories with my photos and I love Nepal. Thanks for reading, I love you and will talk to you later, Seth.