A Swedish onion in Nepal

Slowly peeling of the layers of comfort and habits. Softening to the fact that there wont be more electricity, light, internet time, working toasters if I resist the load shedding schedule. The power will come back when it will. Peeling yet another layer and notice without too much attachment that I now carefully walk around the edges of the ever present garbage piles that litter almost every street in the city center. Often also unconsciously find myself stepping down from the high sidewalks and walk in a zigzak motion towards the traffic. Following the natural flow of people, the odd cow, may dogs, salesmen balancing their goods on their head all slowly moving to their destination. The natural adaptation of living in a city too small for its habitants. Sidewalks often occupied or claimed by sleeping beggers, the travelling book and newspaper salesmen who everyday spread their books on large sheets of plastic only to pick the up at the end of the day and start over in their corner the next morning. Or walking around the strawberry corner near Durbar square where women display small handmade plastic cones carefullt stacked with fresh strawberries.