Scene 1

As I walked round the corner towards my house with my friend Deepa, I was met with a worried looking Sita. In the background outside my gate I could see a crowd of armed police men and several random onlookers, my neighbours perhaps. Today I am moving house.

I had handed my notice in to my landlord or at least tried to over the last two weeks. My landlord lives in Kathmandu and speaks little English so a female Nepali VSO colleague had called him on numerous occasions to give him the required 1 months notice. The landlord he had dismissed this notice stating that I had to stay for another 6 months, it became obvious at this point I was dealing with a right dickwad.
Arriving on the scene I realised that the my landlord who will further be referred to as ‘dickwad’, had indeed turned up at the very moment I was due to flee my house and he had found a crowd of armed police and a police vehicle outside his tenants house. What he didn’t know at this point is that I am very good friends with the district chief of police and he had very kindly offered the help of his police and vehicle to help me move, oh the joys of being a female foreigner!

The battle commences

My heart starting pumping as I approached dickwad, who had clearly been hit by a bottle of just for men and the fugly stick. He told me that I couldn’t move as he couldn’t leave his house empty and that I had to stay there. What he didn’t realise is that there was no way I was staying another night in that house, I had mentally already unpacked in my new apartment and was enjoying some more of my landladies delicious daal baat tarkarri (curry, daal and rice). So I told him that I was moving today, it was my choice and my right. He said we will wait for Yam, my old teacher to arrive and then make a decision would be made. Obviously this was not the right thing to say to me as I had clearly already made decision for myself and did not need the assistance of a man to decide on my behalf, this dickwad was clearly not that keen on female decision makers.

Round 2

Meanwhile back at the ranch I call my friend the police chief and ask him to speak to dickwad via the phone telling him he is a prick, yes I had totally lost my cool. Turns out that they know each other. At this point dickwad is rubbing his hands, thinking that his friend the police chief will take his side for sure. The police disappear and there is a lull of activity in which neighbours discuss what is going on. I sit, meditate and shed a tear and my friends tell me they feel sad because I am sad. Then I feel ready for the next round.

The final show down

Some time later my friend the police chief arrives and the three of us are seated outside my house, with him in the middle. My friend asks me what the problem is and I explain, he utters some Nepali to dickwad and then says to me ‘ok you can move now’. I can hardly believe my ears. I find out later that his utterance to dickwad included ‘you cannot make her stay she made her decision to leave.’ He also offers to look after the house until the dickwad is able to come back to re-let it. The dickwad also says, ‘ok you can go’. At which point I want to say, ‘well I was going anyway you dickwad,’ but I keep my cool and say thanks. My friend then requests his police colleagues to transport my good and orders ‘total setup’ of my stuff.

Retreat

I retreat to my house and am greeted with sweet coffee, daal baat tarkaari and decline the offer of ‘total setup’, as I totally want to set up my own things.
The kindness of many over shadow the unkindness of the few.