Twas the night before Tihar, and all through the town
not a creature was stirring, not even cow brown.
The lights were all hung on the buildings with care
In hopes that relatives soon would be there...
Tomorrow is another festival! The festival called Tihar.
Family members are scrambling to the nearest supermarket to pick up tasty treats and each corner is guarded by a man selling candles, garland, and colossal grapefruits. The air is getting cooler and, other than the grapefruits, it feels strangely similar to the final rush before Christmas.
Cynthia and I decided to try the giant citrus fruit,
but before we sliced her open, I had a photo shoot.
It only seems like Christmas sometimes. Tihar has its own little personality. For instance, fireworks. Constant fireworks.
Today, there were about seven little boys lighting fireworks in the wall outside my house! They would stick the little firecracker in a crack, light it, and throw large rocks at it until it blew up!
I used my best Nepali to say, "That is not good! Enough! Enough!"
Haha, I think that my feeble attempt at speaking Nepali gave them more entertainment than blowing up our wall, so they relented and laughed for a few minutes at each other repeating my words with such a funny accent.
In the meantime, C and I are heading out of town for a few days for some more cultural immersion... see you soon!
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