Oh Brother

On Saturday, I suddenly became violently sick. It was quite an unpleasant experience. Mainly because of its unexpectedness. I wasn’t drunk, I didn’t have food poisoning, nor was I ill. It came and left, and life as I knew it continued. Or, more precisely, life as I had been planning it for about a year now, continued. Switching jobs, working hard to get my bonus, saving money, buying a rucksack – and a tent, sleeping bag, hiking shoes and zip off pants – and working out a travel itinerary. All this to, in fact, leave life as I know it behind to conquer the Big Bad World.


I never actually thought I’d be doing this. I mean, I always knew I would be doing this. No, no, it’s not true. I never thought I would be doing this. Not like this anyway. But I don’t know how I imagined doing it. Maybe I’d have more money. Maybe I’d feel more prepared. Maybe I would… I really don’t know. I feel so in charge, so grown-up. Yet I have no idea where I am going. So unaware, so blue. I feel like internet has not been invented yet and I am sent out to the colonies. Like the family in The Poisonwood Bible, who are send to Africa in the 30s (?) to convert little black souls to Christianity, and bring cake mix, because god forbid you’d have a birthday without a proper American cake.

That’s all I read before I left the country and had to give the book back to its rightful owner.

When I left for Portugal I could not not leave. I had to go on Erasmus. I had to have lived in Portugal. I had to. You cannot study Portuguese and never have been in Portugal. When I stayed in Portugal it was simply an opportunity that presented itself. Why not? When I left Portugal and went to Ireland, I had no choice either. There is no future in Portugal. It would have been foolish to stay.


Now I am choosing, fully conscience, fully aware of the consequences, to leave. To quite my job. To stop the life that supposedly leads somewhere to fulfill a dream, in the company of my brother nonetheless. Who would have thought that in 2012 we would be playing a video game on my tablet like we did when we where – what? – seven or eight on the Nintendo we got for Easter while on our way to the other side of the world – together?

“When you’re dead, it’s my turn to play.”


First stop: Kathmandu, Nepal.
(Wait. That is not true… First stop: Moscow, Russia. Second stop: Delhi, India.)

Third (more permanent stop): Kathmandu, Nepal.

Kathmandu… Meals are served at an exact hour thee times a day. Breakfast at 7am, lunch at 12pm, and dinner at 7pm. If you’re not here, tough! We’re spread out across three floors and four rooms, give or take ten people. The classroom is on the bottom floor as well as the eating area, kitchen and the family’s bedroom. Yes, a family lives here. At least a mother, father and their three year old girl. Her name is Nanni, which means little girl. She is teeny tiny. There is also a Nepali teacher that comes and goes. There is a rooftop terrace and hot water during the day – warmed up by the sun.


The curfew is at 8.30pm. The gate closes; the doors shut. If you’re on the wrong side of it, you might try and climb it, otherwise you’re out, I guess. It’s OK enough though, since you wake up really early. But yesterday (our first day) we were bored out of our minds. Having spend around 24 hours in and out of planes, we could do with some proper exercise. However, after dinner we were confined to our rooms. Eventually, we were fast asleep by ten. Almost missing breakfast the next morning. We might have been more tired than we thought…

That’s it for now. Namaste from 1,300m up and a temperature of about 27°C during the afternoon!








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