One time when I was shopping for a pen and a new writing book in Kathmandu, i found myself momentarily stunned by an interaction with the guy behind the counter.
I was standing on the dirt road, outside of a small closet sized stationary shop, and the guy says to me, “Are you from america?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because you just look like a Freak!”

I looked down at myself, I was wearing Converse Chuck knock-offs, with some green pattern on black, an orange and red Salwar Kameez (a dress, pant combo worn by woman in India, which is usually adorned by a long pretty scarf slung over the shoulders across the front of the neck), A Huge sweater given to me by my buddy who was 6’7″ or so tall over the kameez, a tobacco colored shawl not unlike the ones poor farmers wear, and an Afgani hat…
oh and the dreads…

Kathmandu was once so flooded with “freaks” that there is a street given for it’s namesake.
Freak street is a row of hotels that apparently hosts a lot of travelers, hippies, junkies etc….
There was and still is a good amount of ex-patriots in Kathmandu, and to the locals back in the day, what a lot of freaks it was.

I definitely looked like a freak… but I was warm.


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