Fool's Gold

CW: Substance use

***

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear some evil. Some shall fear me. Towards most, my youth blinds me and binds me in perpetual mistakes. Few I shall face, one shall best me for such is the nature of man. Evil always prevails, be it the evil within or the one without. Man is born of sin and sin is made flesh through man. Sin…

‘Dude, we’re definitely fucked here! What do we do?’

He’s right, you know; we are fucked. Royally! At least, that’s how it looks like, as we’re winding our way up towards a rooftop in Kathmandu. Maybe it’ll be fine, maybe this is just a misunderstanding, maybe this’ll be over before we know it.

‘I think we’ll be fine.’ Hmmm… maybe he didn’t hear me. ‘I…’

‘I heard you! I’m not sure about this. We need to be careful.’

‘Come on Friends, come on, we’re almost there!’ Yeah! This is the guy that brought us here. Let’s call him… Skimpy. Skimpy’s got a weird little smile plastered onto his face and he’s kind of squirrelly. He’s always looking this way and that, like he’s expecting something to jump up and bite him. I honestly would be less nervous, if not for his ADHD.

‘If I end up in a Nepalese prison because of you, George, I’ll kill you!’

He’s right about that, too. This is kind off my fault, not like Chris is a saint in this endeavor or anything. No! But I’m the one who pushed to meet up with Skimpy.

We had arrived in Kathmandu, a couple of days back, and were completely stricken by everything that we encountered. We had had our share of noisy bazaars back home, but nothing like this. Everywhere you looked: colors, shouting, hustling, jewels, masks, books, clothes, shiny stones, shiny stone animals, clothes with shiny stone animals, hats that fitted those clothes, everything you could imagine. Ooooh, and food. So much food, so delicious, so exotic, so diverse, so… come on man, it’s food, who doesn’t love food?! It was overwhelmingly beautiful!

The first few days we just walked around, staring at everything, listening to the sounds of the city, just living in it. We even passed this building a couple of times. I don’t think I even gave it much thought, to be honest, until a few seconds ago. It didn’t seem interesting at all. I am so annoyed with myself right now.

Stupid… stupid!

The rooftop is a restaurant; it’s amazingly enticing in the way it’s organized: there’s a bar to the left with several waiters skulking about, staring at us. There are no other foreigners around; that’s definitely not a good sign. Tables are scattered around and here and there a couple chambre separee where people are chatting cheerfully.

Skimpy sat us at a table and went after the waiter. Chris is sitting across from me with Weirdo right beside him. Oooh, yeah! I forgot to mention Weirdo. Hmmmm…. Weirdo. Do you know those deeply suntanned merchants by the side of the road? Real skinny with a small frame, they have a very soft voice, almost like they’re afraid to speak? That’s, Weirdo! Down to the creepy moustache, bleached shirt and the creased pants. He’s also wearing a little red cap, I think it’s called a sufi, oooh, and he has a small red dot in the middle of his forehead. Ooooh shit, I think I saw Weirdo before, or was it him?

As we were walking through Kathmandu, we saw all kinds of people, but some struck us more than others. There were these old Aladdin looking dudes with those same red dots, what really struck me was their behavior, they all acted the same: their eyes watched everything, everywhere, always hunched, like they were creeping about. They looked like the perpetual henchmen.

‘What do you think all this hustle is about?’ it was our third day in Kathmandu and we had just started our usual walk around the market.

‘I think they’re preparing for some sort of celebration or something. Look, I think they’re setting up a stage over there!’

‘I think you’re right. Hey, Chris!’

‘Yeah?!’

‘Look over there! I think they’re giving offerings to the crows. Let’s go check it out!’ On a fence, atop a leaf, some people had placed flowers and other offerings and the crows were picking at them. ‘Excuse me, do you speak English?’

‘Yes, a bit.’ came his reply.

‘What are you celebrating?’

‘Kaag Tihur! Light Festival. Very important! Everybody happy today, sing, smoke charas.’

‘Charas?’

‘Yes, charas.’

‘What is charas?’

‘Aaaah, gangja.’

‘Ganja?’

‘Yes, ganja, ganja.’

‘Ok, thanks!’

‘Yes, yes. You come tonight. Big celebration!’

‘Thank you, we will! Goodbye!’

‘He said ganja, right? As in ganja, ganja?’

‘Yeah!’ I was astonished. I had read about this somewhere, some days in the year where everybody would worship the gods, by hanging garlands and smoking weed. I had always taken it as something I would never ever experience myself.

‘Does that mean that we could get some?’

‘Yeah! I think that’s why all those hustlers were out in the street today. It’s party time in Kathmandu and everyone’s invited.’ By hustlers I meant the Skimpy’s of the world. Ever since we came, we had been surprised of how many people had offered to sell us narcotics. Coming from where we did, this didn’t seem out of place, just a bit more intense than usual. Today, in particular, the number of those offers had increased tenfold and Skimpy had come across our path on several occasion. Always acting surprised, always acting as if he had never asked us the same question before.

Speaking of Skimpy, here he comes.

‘You want drink? Beer?’

‘No, no!’ We just wanted to get the hell out of there.

It’s not like we weren’t thirsty, and a beer or something stronger would have definitely lightened the mood. No, we just didn’t have the money. Who goes to a drug deal without money, right?! Yeah! We did, and we thought we had been smart about it too.

After we found out what the celebration was about, we had toured the marketplace once more and finally found Skimpy again. It was amazing, 600 rupees per gram; that was like five dollars. It was brilliant, absolutely brilliant! We got back to the hostel and decided to take only 1000 rupees with us, just in case. Just in case what, right? Well, just in case we wanted to buy something else along the way or just in case someone decided to rob us and try to kills us. Smart move, right? Really smart!

We went back out, we walked around a bit, we had time to waste, we saw some juggling balls, you know the kind? Those filled with beans and knit? Bean-balls. Yeah, marvelous. We had 400 rupees to spare, they were 150 rupees, why not?! We walked some more and then we finally met Skimpy. We were so excited; we knew how this thing went from the movies. We give him the money, we shake hands, I put the stuff in my pocket, we walk away, we’re happy campers. Yeah! No!

So, we met Skimpy and we started to walk about, we met up with Weirdo at one point, they exchanged words, Weirdo departed, we walked some more. We rounded a corner, went through some alley, we met Weirdo again. We side stepped off the beaten trail, a bit, and there we were, a marvelous roman style terrace. Surrounded by a white fence, marble columns, white tables, it was pleasantly beautiful. Only issue was, there was no one there. No one except some dude in a white suit wearing sun glasses and two gorgeous women on each side. Yeah! This part was just like in the movies.

Fuck!

We’re fucked!

‘Friend, I have something really good for you! Best thing you can get in Kathmandu, trust me. Forty dollars and it’s yours!’ He had sat down beside me and pulls out a small brick of a grayish color. It was stunning! Just stunning! I forgot how to breathe for a second. I wonder if he had it with him all this time, or if he got it when he went to fetch the waiter.

After we sat down in the roman style terrace, with Skimpy and Weirdo fencing us in, at a round table, we looked at the menu. The beers were sixty rupees each, smart of us to bring something extra. As we drank our beers, awaiting the exchange to happen, Skimpy suddenly left and went over to the White Suit. Really?! What the shit?! We just wanted to buy a gram of weed. Why does it have to be so complicated?! Shit, shit, shit, shit… shit.

‘So, are we going to do this?!’

‘What do you mean, friend?’

‘We talked about buying a gram, not getting beers together. Can we please do that?’ This exchange occurred after he had his little chat with Ultra Gangster. Oooh, yeah! Weirdo doesn’t speak English. He’s just there for support.

‘You want to leave?’

‘Yes, please!’ And off he goes again to talk to Big Boss Pimp.

That’s how we got here. To this fucking rooftop. In the middle of this shitty city, amongst all these thug looking assholes. Do you know how many skulking creeps we passed on the stairs up?! Like, five!

‘Hey, we talked about one gram. I don’t have money for more!’ Guess who started sweating?!

‘This is pure, this is best thing you can buy! Here, take!’ Across from me, Chris didn’t understand what the hell was happening between us and Weirdo was just standing there, being weird, with his little shitty red hat.

‘What’s going on?!’ Chris had picked up on the weirdness and decided to intervene.

Now. Neither me or Chris are native English speakers. We’re from a backwards country in Europe, I guess you kind of picked up on that by now. No?! Anyway, we decided that shit was about to hit the fan and in preparation we decided to switch gears and talk in our native tongue, employing the cheapest Russian accent possible.

‘Dude, we’re definitely fucked! Use an accent so he thinks we’re Russian or something.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because I don’t like where this is going! This guy wants us to buy a whole brick of pollen for forty bucks.’

‘What?! He never said anything about pollen.’

‘I know! Dude, it looks amazing!’

‘What do we do?!’

‘I don’t know, we don’t have the money.’

‘Did you tell him that?’

‘Of course, I did!’

‘What did he say?’

‘What do you mean: what did he say? Look at him! What the fuck? Is he rolling a joint?’

‘Ooooh, man!’

‘Here, friends! Taste! This is best in Nepal! Here!’

Yeah! Did you ever smoke a cigarette? When you pull on that first drag, especially if you haven’t smoked for a while. It kind of hits you. It’s… how can I explain it. Do you know that moment when you stand up all of a sudden and you get light headed? That rush of blood that simply pulls back from your brain, leaving you helpless for a couple of seconds, leaning on anything and anyone, that sensation of “I need more of this” but “I think I’m going to die” going hand in hand. That’s how it was. Damn, it was really, really good.

‘See, friends! Really, good, yes?’

‘Yes, definitely!’

‘What do you say? Thirty bucks!’

‘We don’t have the money; we only have 700 rupees. Can’t you give us for 700 rupees?’

‘Come on, friend. You are tourist, you have money, twenty bucks and this is yours. Come on!’

‘Listen, you’re not understanding me. I have no more than 700 rupees, ok? That’s all we have!’

‘George?’

‘Yeah!’

‘People are starting to look at us funny, I don’t like where this is going.’

And BOOM! That’s when it hit. I’m literally just standing there, shaking my head and my thoughts are all muffled. This is soooooo good! Oh, my God! Time just stopped right there. Skimpy is sweating to my right. Weirdo… well, no sense wasting my breath there. I can literally see space envelop me. It’s so cozy! I look at the brick. Damn it! Why didn’t we take more money with us? What the hell are we going to do? Do I even care anymore? I can see Chris go blank for a second, yup, he’s feeling it too.

‘This is the best shit, ever!’

‘I know!’

And then reality snaps back into place again like a thundercrack:

‘Ten dollars, ten dollars and it’s yours.’ Do you understand what this means? That little brick of pure pollen was worth around 1k back home, at least 1k. Ten fricking dollars? And I have what, six dollars in my pocket? Six damn dollars! I can see it in Chris’s eyes, as well. We fucked up big time.

‘Dude, I’m baked. What do we do?’

‘I don’t know, but we’ve got to get out of here.’

‘Ten dollars, ten dollars, come on!’

Somewhere inside, I can hear my heart thumping. I mean: thumping. If I focus, I can feel the blood flow through my veins. I think I can even feel sweat being born. Oh, yeah! I’m sweating. Now that I look around me, I can see all kinds of weirdos looking at us. There’s this particularly large individual by the door. We need to get out of here.

‘Dude, get ready to leave!’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Friend, listen, we don’t have more money than this! Here, take 700 rupees for the smoke and thank you for your time!’

‘Wha…’

Puff, I can feel the weight of my steps as I’m making my way towards the door with Chris in tow. I’m amazed I can still walk, to be honest. This is some heavy-duty stuff. I’m sweating buckets by the time we get on the stairwell and we’re trudging along. Shit! I just heard something behind me, I can see Chris there, his eyes look glazed. Yeah, there’s someone following us. Definitely!

We’re out on the street now, we’ve never ventured to the left and to the right we need to go past a steel sheet fence. It looks utterly deserted and ominous! Across the street it is.

‘Let’s go this way!’

‘Ok!’

‘You hear them coming after us?’

‘I think so, yes!’

‘Let’s lose them in the city!’

‘Yeah! Shit, I’m baked!’

‘Yeah!’

Across the street and down the first alley we saw. They’re definitely behind us. We need to move fast. I have no idea where we’re going and for the first time, I notice that the sky is starting to darken.

And BOOM! Fireworks and music, and as soon as we round the next corner we’re blown away. Colors everywhere, everyone’s happy, garlands around their necks, colorful die in their hair and on their faces, and we’re baked out of our minds.

‘Someone’s following us, George!’

And off we go through the heavy throng, side-step, walk, turn, watch out for that market stall. Adrenaline pumping through my body like it’s nobody’s business. I need to run, I need to transform, if I want to, I can grow wings or at least another pair of legs. I wonder what else?!

‘Do you recognize this place?’

‘No, but I think I know where we are. I think we’re close to home!’ We’re behind some buildings, shrubs all around us and a well to the side. A well?! Seriously? ‘I think we lost them.’

‘Me too!’

The festival is going on all around us and the last thing we want to do is stop, we honestly can’t take our eyes off of… everything. It’s amazing, it’s so amazing… and now it’s fading. And then there’s only gray and distant noises in the background.

Just before our hostel, there’s a winding street going up and then down again. It’s got a lot of sharp corners and some ditches. We decide to stop there and wait. In case someone followed us, we’ll meet them there and we’ll make sure they regret their decision. We each have a piece of wood and a lot of adrenaline. But there’s no need for any of it. Minutes pass and we’re in the clear. We can go home now, we can rest, we can sit under the rotating ceiling fan and take a breath.

We’re safe and two days from now we’ll be leaving Kathmandu for the Coca-Cola trail. We just need to keep our heads low until then. They’ll forget us, we’re safe now!

We’re safe.

We’ll keep our head low…

What are the chances of seeing Skimpy or Weirdo again?

Slim to none?

This is a big city!

This…

Hmmmm

Do you know how ‘hate’ looks like?

Let me tell you!

It’s covered in bruises and it’s got a squirrely look on his face and a broken arm.