Organic

It should have been on my list. In hindsight, I want to add it. It is worthy.

I call it my "30 by 30" list. Thirty things I want to do before I turn thirty years old. It's not a complete list yet and I doubt it will be before I turn thirty, but there are some sweet things I hope to do on there. Like hike the John Muir Trail or rock a mullet or tip someone $100. Some I have knocked off, like learn to two-step and ask a complete stranger out. Most of them, though, will hopefully occupy my next 498 days.

Well, I experienced something totally awesome a week back and I want to add it to the list.

I rode a motorcycle in a 3rd world country.

It was organic.

I don't usually buy organic products. I know it's better for the environment, the plants, and for me. But I'm cheap and an organic potato costs as much as a 5lb bag of pesticide laced taters. Really when it comes down to it, that's it. You can explain the benefits and try to reason me, but at the end of the day, I'm cheap. Sorry.

But I did experience something organic....and I liked it. No, I'm not ready to buy organic fruit, join the Democratic party (nor the Republican for that matter), or talk to the Green Peace guy outside Trader Joe's, but it did open my eyes to something.

The last time I was in Nepal (2002) I worked at an orphanage/boarding school. It was a great experience for myself and, I hope, a great experience for the kids as well. It was during the middle of Nepal's decade long civil war and things heated up when we were there. So much so, that the organization we were working with decided to pull us out the country early. We were on a plane to Thailand in less than 24 hours. So, our goodbyes to the kids and the country was a blur.

So, being back in the country for the first time since then, I decided to pay a visit. The orphanage is in the town of Dhulikel, which is about 90 minutes outside of Kathmandu by bus. That was the plan...take a bus to the town and back on my one free day in Kathmandu. Then I had a stroke of genius.

These are rare so I try to take advantage of them. You never know when, or if, another one will occur again. So I acted.

Why not rent a motorcycle and drive there? Sure I haven't been on a motorcycle in over a year. Sure it's driving in a 3rd world country on the other side of the road. But it's only $7 a day to rent a bike.

Did I mention that I'm cheap?

I arrived at the rental building at 8am and traded my passport (security deposit) for a sport bike that boasted a 150cc engine and shiny blue paint. I strapped on the helmet I was given, flipped down the visor, and then flipped it back up. It must have been dragged along the asphalt. It was scratched like the underside of a teenage boy's skateboard. As I drove away through the tourist heavy area of Thamel, it dawned on me, they never asked for proof of a motorcycle license or even whether I knew how to operate one. I must project, "he's tough, awesome, and knows what he's doing."

8:15am on a weekday in a major city is not the best time to take your 15 year old child on their first behind the wheel experience. 8:15am on a weekday in the capital city of a 3rd world country is also probably not the best time to reacquaint yourself with driving a motorcycle. But it had to do.

As I drove through the narrow alleyways dodging potholes and people, I quickly realized that sidewalks, lanes, signals, and the horn were different from my previous experience with them in the states. For starters, there really aren't any sidewalks in Kathmandu. Where do people walk you ask? Yep, right down the middle of the street. And so, they are an obstacle. What about lanes? They're there. Maybe one day they were adhered to, but not today. Two cars can take up a lane or one car can take up two lanes. A bus can pass at anytime so there are times when your "lane" is being almost completely occupied by an oncoming bus. At this moment, the shoulder becomes your friend. Turn signals? I'm pretty sure they are for decoration only. The horn? Well, that puppy is gold in Nepal. If you're horn is busted you may as well take the bus. It's not an instrument to dispense anger, but rather a symphony of "hey look at me." It alerts everyone within ear shot of where you are. Passing a bus? Beep, beep, beep. Coming up on a crowd of people walking down the street? Beep, beep, beeeep. Enjoying too much silence and sanity? Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeep!

So, driving in Nepal is different. Organic? Yes.

Driving through the city and then the hill country of Nepal alerted all my senses. You become one with your bike as you feel every part of the road. There's no need to use your mirrors. Your ears becomes tuned to the constant horns around you. You're constantly scanning the horizon for people about to dart out and the road for craters to emerge. You can smell taste the exhaust of never smogged buses on your tongue (that was one I could do without).

Most of all, though, driving through Nepal was about sensing movement and motion. I never had to slam on my breaks or accelerate to avoid an accident. I had to anticipate the next movement of the bus, dog, and taxi. I had to watch and feel where the pedestrian, cow, or motorcycle would go. As I found my space in the throngs of other, I had be aware of all their slight movements and always be ready to adjust to fit myself in amongst them

And yet, it was totally fluid. It was completely natural. It was organic. And I liked it.

For a day, I was spiderman.