Gorra (22 February 2010)

I saw a white person today.  It had been awhile.  I was standing outside on the second-floor walkway, just coming out of the “teacher’s lounge”, and she just wandered up with her Nepali friend right onto the school grounds, a girl in her twenties, her clothes and accessories indicative of a veteran, possibly professional traveler; nothing appeared to have been purchased just for Nepal, although everything seemed high-end in an understated sort of way.  She looked up at me, looked away, then back and waved.  A teacher sauntered over and asked me, “Did you meet your friend?”  I had a class to teach but went down to talk anyway.  It turns out she is from Utah, trekking though the area doing some kind of media related work for a non-profit, just stopping for lunch.  After our introductions I hurried off to class, but an hour later there she was again, drinking tea at my snack-time restaurant, which was not much of a coincidence as it is one of only two places in town where one can sit and dine, and the only one that looks somewhat like a restaurant.    We shared the highlights of our stories, a little advice and small talk, both amused to be talking to another Westerner.  It had been two weeks since I had taken part in an English conversation uncomplicated by the need to simplify and enunciate and I treasured the opportunity, but then the bell rang and I had to go back to class.   I found myself hoping to see her again, first on my way home and then on my evening walkabout, even though I knew she was certainly long gone.