meditation nonsense served no purpose. Finally, he rose and
stretched his legs. He slowly walked over to me and smiled.
“You are hungry, yes?” he said.
“Yeah,” I coughed.
He walked into the kitchen and began to cook something over a
clay stove. I sat outside and waited. It seemed as if he was taking a
long time, so I finally came inside, and was surprised to see him
already eating.
“Why didn’t you call me in?” I said.
He looked surprised. “I didn’t want to interrupt you,” he said,
“The mornings can be very beautiful this time of year. The food will
stay warm on the stove, but the morning will soon be gone.”
What a weirdo, I thought. At least he spoke English. I sat down
to eat what turned out to be a very bland vegetarian meal. No, it was
worse: kind of like eating houseplants. I nibbled a bit and then sat
quietly. He said little. I glared angrily at my ankle. He belched. I
whistled. Breakfast was over. I thanked him and hobbled back
outside.
Smiling, he returned outside with a book and started to read
from an old and tattered paperback.
“What are you reading?” I said. He looked up.
“A book by Ms. Ayn Rand.”
“Ayn Rand?” I asked, puzzled. Ayn Rand, one of the foremost
proponents of Western, capitalistic philosophy had sparked the
interest of a small Nepalese man living in a hut in the Himalayan
mountains? I found it strange, and assumed that he didn’t
understand any of it.
“What do you think of her?” I prodded.
“Oh, she is very brilliant indeed.” He answered while stroking
his luxurious black beard.
“So you agree with her philosophy?” I continued.
He smiled kindly and said, “Each of us sees with our own eyes,
so we are all of us blind. Ours is not to agree nor disagree, but to
listen.”
I nodded. What the fuck did that mean? We see but we are
blind? It wasn’t worth the effort to try and have him explain, so I let
him return to his readings without any further interruptions. He was
a harmless little guy, but I wished he made more sense.
Or, if not made sense, at least made conversation. In fact, he was
downright boring. And when he wasn’t boring, he was just plain
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
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