I was not very excited about Kathmandu. Being also sick, I preferred to rest in the hotel and have some solitude and refuge in the books. I guess the amount of dust in the air scared me since I had continuououous coughing. My only trial to go for a walk today was truncated by heavy rains that brought me to Pizza Hut for lunch. I have to say, I didn’t come to Nepal to know the culture or try the food. I came to find nature. So I was happy to have a western pizza after the psychological trauma of my latest bowel experience.
Kathmandu is full of shops of big brands, Levi’s, adidas, puma.. etc.. Also shops for expensive watches. While the infrastructure of the city is worse than some villages in Egypt 10 years ago, the people still wanted to consume these brands. Something didn’t feel right. Not that some people have more right to live than others. It is just that globalisation gave some societies more dreams to chase than they really needed.
The rain stopped and I was slowly strolling towards the hotel when I saw a shoeshiner. My shoes were miserably dirty and muddy so I thought I would give them a polish. I sat beside him on the bench and wore the flip flops he offered me while he started his work on my shoes. I relaxed and used the time as an excuse to people-watch and observe the happenings in the street before I turn my attention completely to him.
A long process that involved many steps and tools. Started by studying the shoes and removing the laces, he gave them a thorough polish with a strong brush. Then manually preparing the colour by mixing a white paste with different amounts of coloured powders; black, red and yellow. He did that while glancing back and forth to the shoes to estimate the quantities more like a painter.
He was absorbed in his small task.. Indifferent to his surroundings. His process was various. Including different brushes and even a tooth brush. Different materials to reach some folds and gutters. Between the steps, he brushed with all of his being. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He moved his head with the brush with some spirituality like a Sufi dancer. It was a skill and an art. I knew that his work on my shoes won’t last long in dusty Kathmandu. He probably knew it too. But it didn’t matter. During his 25 minutes relationship with my shoes, I found it pleasing to observe his work and admired his expertise and craftsmanship. Some people can transform small tasks into respectable pieces of work.
I went to bed around 8pm. Lacking the energy for anything else and having a busy program the next day that starts at 5am. Tomorrow, Inshallah, I leave the Kathmandu to Pokhara, the biggest city in Nepal.
