Tuesday, November 28, 1995

Pokhara, forty-ninth day,

If we can feel pleasure by being slapped, why not by climbing a mountain without a reason. The climb up to Sarangkot was tough but enjoyable! The limited resistance of Mary was a plus in fact; leaving her moan and suffer alone, I ascended blithely (it is good not smoking) and wait for her with a cool Coke when the opportunity would appear.
"Hey, putaing, me, I can’t anymore! ... - "But no, you're dumb, we're almost there ..." After a difficult time sweating like an animal, a kind of "second breath" appeared. All the energy accumulated in recent days has begun to free itself, and I felt the need to run and scream (never mind the Nepalese porters on the way, I do not know them!). The satisfaction of those needs was pure enjoyment.

The insolence of that Israeli girl behind me in the night bus just upset me. Because I dared to recline my seat in rest position, she was "kicking my ass" dragging her feet in the space between the seat and the back of the seat! As I asked her to stop, she re inclined my seat in the opposite direction by pressure from these same disruptive feet. A Nepali man, who took my defense, showed a kind of anti-Semitism saying in the way we are talking about a defect that explains some oddities: “She Is from Israel!” But the denial of her origins followed: "No, no, I am frrom Gerrmany!

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