2 a.m. September 1st Nepalese time

Tim’s kind of airline. Free alcohol. You are asked several times if you want wine with dinner. Lol! I had the hard core stuff, ginger ale! Dinner was quite good. Choice between vegetarian curry or fish pie. I decided to be courageous, even if it meant not eating at all. Fish pie. Rich, creamy sauce with peas and pollack covered with hash browns and bread crumbs. Yummy raspberry and redcurrant trifle for dessert.

I think I am about ¼ of the way there. Flew over Amsterdam, Hannover, and Berlin. Nothing to see really this late at night.

I leave for Kathmandu in 9 hours and 45 minutes. Woo hoo!

9:15 a.m. September 1st Nepalese time
So the Swiss/Iranian/Geneva man is a midwife and his partner is a nurse. We discussed how few male midwives there are. They are heading to Rajastan (land of the Kings) in India for a 3 week holiday.

I ended up safety pinning my pants in 2 places. I am beginning to smell sweaty. Yuck! I probably will have to get used to that!

I am now sitting in the transit area at the Delhi airport.

I got off the plane and started to look for where I might catch my next flight when a woman ran me down and told me to go downstairs. I waited in line to meet with an immigrations man. Nice older man with a turban. He was obviously delighted with my piercings and tats. He called over about 6 people to show me off as a curiosity. He even tried to feed me a cookie. Don’t feed the animals!

After being asked the same question by several people, I’m still not sure what they were asking, I was whisked off to a security area. The armed guards are a bit scary especially since the woman with my plane ticket and passport are nowhere to be seen. Half an hour later I have learned that if you are connecting to a new flight you tell them you are transit (telling them you are catching a flight to Kathmandu doesn’t work). They then stick you in a large room and wait till the airline comes and gets you. Supposed to be here around 11 a.m. for me for my 12 p.m. flight.

I called Tim. Hi Tim! That call cost $6. I’m not in the mood to argue with them.

I still want to smoke. Tim tells me that smoking is not healthy for me. I argue that I will no longer be the ‘rebel’ or ‘bad girl shaman’ if I quit. Poopy head Tim!

The air here smells like burnt plastic, even more so if you get a whiff of fresh air.

I’m pretty sure I’m an oddity here. I see women in beautiful saris, some of them bearing their midriff. I see women who only have a slit of their eyes showing. Men in varying Muslim outfits, a whole beautiful array. Yet I have people gathering around me. Staring at me. Do you think I should bite them if they poke me?

One of the security ladies told me she spoke perfect English like that was supposed to fix everything and now I could understand her perfectly now.

Ok, so that’s a bit creepy. 3 women with full coverings are staring me down through their eye slits.