Dear Friends,
Kipling knew what he was talking about when he said, "The wildest dreams of Kew are the facts of Kathmandu." This is true, even today. A casual stroll on the street might bring you face to face with a cow or two in the middle of a crowded street stopping traffic, a man herding goats to slaughter, buck naked babies being bathed from buckets, and saddhus (holy men), with their Rastafarian curls, barely clothed, covered with chalk, perhaps carrying a trident, their tin begging bowls at the ready. The other day, I took some little J House boys on their favorite outing – a trip to a children’s park with the usual rides. There, trying to maneuver the bumper cars were a couple of Buddhist monks, long flowing red robes, shaved heads, laughing and mugging for their fellow monks taking pictures along the fence. 
In my last dispatch, I promised to write you about the trip we took to a wildlife park in south Nepal with 63 children. One of my favorite all-time “wildest dreams” sightings took place there. A mahout (elephant driver), riding atop a huge beast painted in bright colors in celebration of Holi (a holiday during which colored powder is tossed around) and talking on a cell phone! More remarkable, the kids didn’t see anything unusual in this spectacle.
A few minutes later, the children were riding on platforms atop the elephants (we hired 13 of them), their legs dangling over its ribs or rear end, as it walked slowly along trails in the jungle. They met rhinos in the tall grass, saw monkeys, deer, and many birds. Afterwards, they swam in the somewhat muddy river, with a couple of the older boys stationed along its banks on the lookout for crocodiles. And there was a long jeep ride with a young naturalist in each car to point out interesting sights (including a large sleeping snake), a stick dance around a big bonfire by young men from the local ethnic group, and a chicken barbecue.
One thing we did not have was an alarm clock (how do you wake up 63 little kids at the same time anyway), but not to worry. Although we had to rise at 6:30 one morning and we were scattered about in many different rooms, one of the adults knew just what to do – he gave carte blanche to five of the smallest, hyperkinetic little boys, who had been up for an hour or so, to run along the walk in front of the rooms shouting, “GET UP, GET UP!” It was the noisiest alarm clock ever, but it did the trick, and the boys let off a lot of steam before the jeep ride. (I hasten to add that there were no other guests at the hotel.)
