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By tierneybb

View of BoudhananthObserving my surroundings as we eat delicious dhal by battery powered light I realize this is not a place where Blanche DuBois could thrive. Bare bulbs jut out from the walls, their wattage unshielded or dimmed, and this rechargeable light for load shedding hours is especially harsh, casting long shadows and distorting the most innocent objects. Kathmandu has a way of being similarly blunt and glaring to a point of distortion. Where poverty versus wealth is so clear a dichotomy, the standard of living itself becomes obscure. Everyone here has some variation of idiom about how nothing makes sense but ultimately it all works. The constant state of destruction and rebuilding that at first stood out so much has faded into the background and navigating the broken streets has become second nature in a short amount of time. White, unlabeled, TATA vans packed with people are actually a surprisingly effective public transport system, with teenage boys leaning out the open doors shouting the names of different routes. While many other students are feeling pangs of culture shock, homesickness, and often actual pains from the limited adaptability of their own digestive system, I have somehow managed to avoid all of these hazards of the first few weeks abroad (so far, now I've jinxed it).

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