Unreal, to sit here now in Hotel Tillicho once more, especially after having said I'd never stay here again. The ani-haru are at police checkpoint, doing something—they sent me on alone.

This morning I was all packed, drinking tea by the fire, when one of the Kancchis and the biggest police officer showed up: “Ready?” and when I fumbled with my pack straps, “You fast ready.” Kanchi, Yangzum Bhuti and the p.o. threw white kata around my neck and I raced to the main entrance to meet Karsung, Kendu and Kartok. Not sure what the rush was—we stopped several times along the way for tea and chatting with their friends. I thought we were leaving early in the morning to be sure and get rooms, but now they say they are staying at the checkpoint until evening, and will meet me here later—what is going on?

I'm in the same room as before. Feels so unreal. Last time I was here, I thought this place drab—now it seems luxurious. I remember I felt very confused and unsure of myself—I feel almost as unsure now, abandoned by the ani-haru without warning. I remember also being really annoyed by the owners’ voice—I hear her on the telephone now and it’s just an ordinary Nepali woman’s voice, not particularly annoying at all.

Everything so clean and bright—hard to take in.

Left at 7—it was 11:15 when I got here—and our stops probably totalled ½ hour—no wonder people before said it was a short distance! Fun seeing how different and yet the same it all looked on way back—bits which on the way seemed like isolated barren stretches which went on for miles now were short main streets running through ordinary Nepali towns. The ani-haru knew everyone and we drank barrels of hot tea. The Hindu priest from the mandir came with us, as well as the old ani I used to be afraid of—we lost her along the way.

Vegetable thugpa! Steaming egg, green onion, brilliant carrot, white onion—after weeks of nothing but ramen noodles and dal bhaat—and I can eat at own pace—sitting in chair! bright pink tablecloth—

Hard to believe the ani-haru will really meet me here—they seem part of a different world now—how easy to get on a plane, fly to Kathmandu from here, and back to Colorado—but no—

Later:

Ani-haru arrive—they are staying elsewhere—now it all makes sense! I wish they’d told me this earlier, so I could have decided for myself which hotel to stay in—it wouldn’t have been this one. I'm going to start asking a lot more questions ahead of time, since they aren't very proactive about telling me the plan—or maybe they tell me and I don’t understand. Tomorrow—tractor—we leave at five.

I have a BOOK a BOOK a BOOK—I went to the store and bought a thriller spy thing with wonderfully clipped British dialogue for 110 rupees—it’s only 4pm but it’s really dark out—about to storm—I've been starved for books these three weeks—how amazing it is to be in developed area—

A bizarre feeling not to undress in shiveringness, and fall asleep trying to get warm. I’ll never take this for granted again—it’s such a luxury—I've been reading my book in state of absorption——it’s such an ordinary, commonplace, poorly edited book—but I havent enjoyed a book so much since Harry Potter IV—what luxury this all is