The first lodge we approached was full, so we went to another one, Kamala Lodge. There were two Canadian men and a Japanese lady staying there. The Canadians had hired a porter who was addressed as G Man (they found it too difficult to pronounce his real name, and used his first initial instead). The Japanese lady, who also had the same first initial, was called G Girl. They had been trekking together for the last couple of days after they met on the Jomsom trail. The Canadians were teaching in Kuwait while the Japanese was doing the same in Missouri. As we introduced each other, they obviously found Chipledhunga a difficult name to pronounce, and therefore started addressing me as C Man. Mero paalo pani uniharu lai B Man ra P Man bhanna thalidiye. We were in the dining room, with a heater below the table. Without the heater, it would have been bitterly cold. We started drinking beer. It was getting dark and the other four started getting worried about DB. DB bhaneko chahi G Girl ko guide rahicha. They had stayed at the same lodge in Tatopani the previous night. Tyaha bata Ghorepani tira jhandai dui ghanta hiday pachi (and most of that was a steep uphill climb) one of the Canadians realized that he left his camera at the lodge. DB had gone back to the lodge to fetch the camera and promised to meet them at Ghorepani. Finally DB arrived. He had literally run down the hill to Tatopani, drank two bottles of coke, and immediately rushed back to Ghorepani with the camera. The Canadians were extremely grateful for what DB had done, particularly given the fact that he was not someone they had hired. Soon we had our dinner. While M and J went to bed as they were too tired, I gladly accepted the offer of the “group of initials” to welcome the new millennium together. Both of the Canadians were heavy drinkers. One of them was a heavy smoker as well (nothing compared to the chain smoker we encountered before though). Churot pani Khukuri khando rahicha, kadaa po chha ta tyo. Some of them started smoking ganja as well, ek dui sarko ta maile pani tanidiye. That is the only time I have ever smoked ganja since I graduated from college. As we sat there chatting, drinking, and smoking, I realized that DB was more than a guide to G Girl, not that I was unaware of such cases before. It was midnight, and we cheered “Happy New Year.” We could hear the same from the other lodges nearby. G Girl and DB immediately went upstairs to bed, good night bhandai. “Have a good f***,” one of the Canadians whispered as the two disappeared. G Man, who was sitting next to me, whispered “Gora (as foreigners are commonly called in that region) sanga nasutera kina Nepali sanga sutna pareko hola.” “Nepal aesi Nepali sanga pani ta ramailo garnu paryo ni,” I whispered back. After smoking a cigarette each, afno afno kotha tira laagiyo. Kramasha