We rode a rickshaw over to the LSF office, where we conspired with Ramesh and Nutan to build an infallible series of workarounds so we don’t end up having to go home without interviewing our principals subjects. It was hot, the rickshaw was in sad shape, and we ended up pushing it a fair bit of the way.

We finally got down and quietly overpaid, just because it felt like more trouble to be sitting up there while this old cat sweated and grunted than to just walk the last quarter mile.

Lots of good planning, and we resolved to try to bash out way across the city to see Pragya and her mom. Trip back to the hotel to grab the tripod (we hadn’t thought of shooting video, as our interviews are audio only), then fortune smiled and we found a young maverick taxi driver, name of Dependra, who was willing to try to make it over to the outskirts we were headed for.

Dependra and Nutan were in a good-natured battle of wits over who could guess at the best route (and avoid bands of cricket-bat wielding students and union thugs).

Kathmandu is a city of ridiculously narrow, crazily curving streets anyhow, but we took the chutes-and-laddersiest of them, and after 70 minutes of driving (normally a 20 minute ride), and much feeling of our way through uncharted back alleys, we arrived. 

Wow. We made it. The girls were delighted to see us; lunch–which we brought as a courtesy–went on the stove, and the gear got set up. Literally as the recorder was switched on to test mic sound, the first raindrops fell on the corrugated metal roof.

And we’re like, ohh, dang. It being monsoon season and all.

After a lunch in which we fretted about not just the on-again-off-again rain, but also the tractor tilling the field next door (100 feet away from the microphones) for rice planting, the rain let off, and Ramesh and I walked out to shoot some B-roll while Amy and Nutan got started on an interview with Pragya.

Cautious optimism prevails, as I set up the camera on the tripod to get a wide establishing shot of the neighborhood. I’m hoping to track one of the dozen or so international flights that approach the nearby airport every hour, including the girls’ house in the shot. 

The neighborhood kids gather around me (like they do), all vying for a look at the viewfinder. Ramesh is, with his quiet valor, trying to keep them out of my way without actually saying anything to them. Dark clouds are rolling in and it begins to rain. Lightly at first. I just stand there. The camera can take some rain–as I learned a couple days ago with the rice paddy ladies. 

After probably close to 30 minutes standing there, it’s clear that the clouds are too low, and the flights are likely circling, as they’re certainly not landing. And anyway, Amy’s sure not to be getting anywhere, given that the rain’s back.

As Ramesh and I walk back to the house, somehow I managed to keep a cloud of scribble from forming over my head. Our feeling of being defeated is largely offset by our sense of good fortune at being here in the first place, doing this job in the first place. 

I mean, I know it sounds kind of foo-foo. But it’s like that. We had a nice afternoon, with nice people; we set up some plans that must/should/could/might result in our reaching all of our subjects before we leave; and we just kind of really feel that way.

Disappointed but lucky. 

We received a call from Ramesh last night saying that today was most likely a NO GO. Students as well as all transportation people are demonstrating throughout the city demanding that the government do something about the huge price hike in petrol and transport fares. The lines for gas here are incredible. People wait in line for hours. One of our cab drivers routinely sleeps in his car all night while waiting in line. We have heard of people waiting for 4 hours only to have the pump run out. No refunds given.

The car and motorbike lines for gas are so long that they block traffic. Scott and I can’t pass this scene without imagining what would happen if this situation hit America. I know we did it in the 70′s, but…. I shudder at the thought of it happening right now… Americans and waiting? I don’t believe this is our strong point, and we aren’t getting any better at it as our world gets faster and faster and faster. 

It might be our American-ness that made me and Scott believe we could still continue with our BIG DAY despite the roadblocks. We got up at 5:30am, called our taxi driver who was like “yeah, right,” called Nutan, our translator, who told us her street was already under siege (burning tires, people breaking windows on cars that try to pass), then we still tried to hire a private car to take us…. But he wanted so much money, it just wasn’t worth the risk, especially without Nutan. We kind of pretty much need a translator for our interviews.

So, we returned to the hotel wishing we had just stayed in bed. Scott took off on foot with camera to shoot some B-roll around town. I am a little under the weather, so I stayed behind. Maybe this day of rest is good.

We have plenty of logging to do. I just don’t know how we are going to reschedule and fit all that we need to into the next week. But, I haven’t really known how a lot of stuff was going to happen on this adventure, and it has just came together, so I am going with that. (Or, at least I am telling myself I am going with it.)

I am so thankful to be doing what we are doing and to have this time to do it in. We are so blessed.