It is 2 in the afternoon and I am sitting at a small cafe cum store in an area called “Char Dukan” (literally “Four Stores”). My hotel is fairly secluded, and this is the closest commercial area on the way down to town.

I am of course drinking chai and watching the activity around me. Two men are reading a Hindi newspaper at the next table. Three women in bright green, pink and purple saris are hauling loads of cement in flat metal bowls on their heads. The loads are heavy enough that they can’t hoist them up, but need help. I have noticed a lot of women involved in construction.
An Ambassador (a popular Indian car) taxi squeezes past my roadside table, belching black smoke. There are no sidewalks here, and much less division between space for people and for vehicles.
The weather changed today. It is the first day without rain. The weather here changes by the minute: at the moment it is sunny and hot, in a moment the fog has rolled in and you are cold. In this way it reminds me of Berkeley. Everybody here says that the weather in October will be beautiful, with views of the snow capped Himalayan peaks.