Wear You Down

I wouldn't say it has been a bad week. God has definitely poured out His grace and presence on us in the midst of it, but it has definitely been one of those weeks that I feel the toll a place like this can take. Sometimes, this place just seems to wear you down.
We had a nice weekend away in Nagarkot, a small place in the mountains not too far outside of Kathmandu. We stayed in a nice hotel and had a restful weekend, though we didn't actually see the spectacular mountain views we were hoping for. Lots of fog to look at but not much view of the mountain. On the way up to Nagarkot, we took a tuk tuk to the nearest bus depot (which is really just a parking lot of random buses) and then took a bus to Bhaktapur where we expected to take a second bus up to Nagarkot. When we got off the bus in Bhaktapur, we found out there was no bus running to Nagarkot that day because one of the buses the day before had an accident. So, we ended up in a taxi. Minor gliche but far overshadowed by a fabulous shower and bathtub, which Isaiah loved, and a restful quiet weekend with fresh air.
On Monday morning, we got on the local bus back to Bhaktapur (a little nerve-wracking after having seen the one flipped over on the side of the mountain from Friday). Then we got on the bus back to Lagankhel, which takes you back through all the dust and pollution and clogs up any fresh air that might have filled your lungs while away. The bus was crowded, and when I say crowded, I mean three people hanging on to the outside of the door and people jammed in and standing over each other. Mind you, the "hawker" (as I like to call him) was still beckoning people to come on the bus. I mean, we hadn't even tapped into the space on the roof yet, so why not? Back at Lagankhel (which is the area where I go to the clinic), we just needed to get on a tuk tuk or microbus for a few minutes to get us to our road home. One microbus had just emptied out of people and tried to charge us 300 rupees! Seriously? It costs 10 for that ride! Anyway, we finally walked around the corner, got on a tuk tuk and got home, but it just felt a little astounding how exhausted we felt after our restful weekend because of the trek back home.

I ended up with some sort of intestinal bug for a couple days that gave me terrible cramps and body aches and kept me close to a bathroom. On the second day of that, a full-blown cold or viral thing hit Isaiah. He's been achey and all congested and, by today, seemed totally miserable. The night before last night, it seemed he was going to be up pretty much every hour, which meant we'd be getting up every hour, so we brought him in to sleep in our bed. The night consisted of frequent trips to the bathroom for me with sharp cramps in between and a restless, fussy toddler elbowing me and climbing on me and periodically shoving his nose or mouth into my face for a snot-covered kiss. Now, I know this stuff happens in the States as well. Kids get sick. We get sick. It just happens so much more frequently here. It was just under a month ago that Isaiah had his pukefest weekend. It took him two weeks for his sleep to settle back in, which gave us less than two weeks of him sleeping through the night again before sickness hit again. That is a tiring pattern.
So, in the midst of tired and not feeling well, I made my way to the clinic Wednesday morning for my monthly checkup. I had my glucose test last week and should've found out the results when I went in this time. We got all ready and got over there, only to find the clinic closed for the day. Now, the clinic is open every day, but they have a special time set aside for an "open house" style clinic specifically for expats on Wednesday mornings, which as I've mentioned, is a much easier experience. But given that it only happens once a week, I will need to wait a week if I hope to go in for that clinic time.
I was bummed and a little frustrated, but I decided Isaiah and I would make the trek up to the central post office to pick up the care package I knew was there from my parents. You see, no mail gets delivered to homes here. We have a post office box at the local post office. When we get a package, they put a notice in our box. Often, the notice is all that is actually AT our post office, though, as they keep larger (and, sometimes just random and unpredictable) packages at the downtown office. That is what happened this time. So, then you have to go to the local office, pick up the slip, take it downtown (which is a 30-minute trip one way on a good day), go to 15 or so stations to have random signatures and stamps and who knows what to get the actual package. I've never gone before since John has picked up the packages before, but I thought it might cheer us up a bit to get the package, so we hopped on a microbus and headed up there. Isaiah was so tired and nearly fell asleep on the way. We got off and crossed the crazy intersection, made our way to the unmarked gate at what seemed to be the post office, and when I asked the guard at the gate if it was the post office, he said, "Tomorrow." Since that didn't seem an answer to my question, I said, "What?" He said, "Today is holiday. Closed. You can come tomorrow." Oh, can I, please? You've got to be kidding me! Bleh. What the heck random holiday it was, I have no idea. They have a ton of them, and half of the people here don't even know what or when they are. So, we ventured into the market area next to that and bought a cheap pair of knockoff Puma sweatpants for Isaiah. I started to look for a long-sleeve t-shirt for me, which I had forgotten to pack for sleeping at night, but I just wasn't up for dealing with all the dynamics of the little shops in that kind of market area, so we crossed the intersection again and got on a microbus back to our area.
We headed to Higher Ground, a cafe that is Isaiah's favorite here. It was Muna Didi's day off, so I thought we'd just eat some lunch out and then head home for nap. Isaiah loves the banana smoothies there; it's his favorite. I ordered one for each of us, and the waiter came back a few minutes later to tell me they couldn't make them at that time because the power was out. Bummer.

I surprisingly didn't feel stressed from the day, which is God's grace for sure, as many of you know that I'm not the most flexible person on the planet. Top that off with not feeling well and carrying around a toddler that wasn't feeling well. But, it didn't make me stressed or angry...just exhausted. It's not one thing by itself, but it is the stream of things that are just a regular part of life here and accumulate to just wear a person down here. Ah, Kathmandu, you make me weary sometimes.