4.
Kathmandu’s
famous Gurkha regiment found themselves washing dishes out of sight of the
customers in any number of the white-owned cafes aligning the recently renamed
Joanna Lumely Square. To say these establishments standing in homogenized
self-entitled and grim serried ranks was the harrowing example of middle-class
mission-creep that has insidiously infected and now plagues places originally
bustling with ethnic diversity, would be a truism. The self-styled middle-class
intelligensia and uber-trendy-who
poo-pooed the, quite frankly genuinely democratic Costa and Starbucks
franchizes,-had endeavoured and succeded in turning Nepal's main Square into a
self-congratulatory people-watching paradigm.
How a
battliion of yummy-mummies complete with panzer-buggies and their children,
super-charged tazers of parental love-
made it into the rarified air of the Himalayas is easy to observe. Middle-class
mission-creep leeches all before it; in a bid for the genuine experience of
ethnicity an avant-gard of trustafarians (white Rastas with Mum and dad’s trust
funds) move in to redefined an area as
desirable. This avant-garde of faux-blacks is followed by artistic types whose
demand for insulated bubbles of existence from which to observe the locals
triggers the insidious land-grab of cheap property thus raising the prices as
unscruplous landlords force the local colour out for the cash-crop that is
whitification; the pinnacle of which is, apparently, a Whole-food Bakery. The Nigerian/Indian/Carribbean
market street bleached of its former denizens in the endless stampede for the Up-and-Coming
is now curiously defined by a high cafe-ideation-Quotient; without any sense of
irony whatsoever its new residents
evaluate each other across the street sipping Cappuchhinos sprinkled with a
mild dusting of angst.
High above
Kathmandu, over looking Joanna Lumely Square a yeti and a crested Macaque monkey were
sat on an ice-bridge with panoramic views on the Himalayas clipping their toenails.
“White people
piss me off!”’ said the macaque.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!”, said the yeti.
“If there is
a black and a white shop assistant, I
go to the black one, ”, The macaque continued. “But the white one..”
Both: “...always
butts in”.
A fibrous
yellow toenail sailed into the deep blue yonder.
“Yeah, White
people piss me off!”, said the macaque.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!”, said the yeti.
“You know
wherever they go in the world they...”
Both; “...move
in and push everybody out”.
“Look what
they did to the Tasmanians”.
Both; “Bad
business”.
“And the
native Americans”.
Both: “Bad
business”.
The yeti was having trouble keeping his blond fur away from the toe he was clipping, while the macaque had such a huge erect penis he had trouble reaching his own feet.
“Yeah. White
people piss me off!”.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!” said the macaque. “Anything you can do..”
Both; “...they
can do better!”. They laughed.
“And what
they did to the Jews!”.
“They’re
white aren’t they? Said the yeti.
Both; “Bad
business”.
The macaque
was having trouble with the toenail his erection kept on rebounding into his
face; a real struggle. The yeti paused
to watch, then went back to his own feet.
“White people
piss me off!”.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible”. said the macaque. "I mean, the world did
not need to be discovered but they...”
Both, “...take
credit for everything!”.
“And look at
that slavery thing”.
“Bad
business”.
The macaque’s
erection was so big it nearly reached his chin. He rested his nail clippers on
top of its pink head. It was a beautiful calm day, from the snow bridge he could see the Himalayan chain of
Nepal, India and across to China . They both
stared at Everest.
“Bad
business”.
"White people
piss me off!”.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!”, said the macaque.” It’s so cold where they
are from they had nothing else to do but invent things to...”
Both; “...make
them lonelier!” again both laughed.
“Bad
business”.
“Bad, bad
business”.
The macaque
looked over at the yeti’s thick blond coat and barely concealed jealousy coursed across his simian
features.
“White people
piss me off!”.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!”. Said the macaque.
“When you
meet them you gotta say ‘Good Morning twice to...”
Both; ...”...address
both their faces!”.
At the
north-end of the ice-bridge a tiny fissure was opening in the ice.
“And what the
white Russians did to Mongolia’s Shamans, they...”
“...threw
them out of planes!”.
Both; “Bad
Business”.
Here they
observed a minutes silence.
“What do you
call those people you find all over the world?” Asked the macaque.
The yeti
looked blank.
“...you know, in remote
cultures...codifying every move..?”
The yeti
watched a toenail disappear in the chasm
below.”...they write down everything before a culture is anihilated?”
Both;
“Anthropologists!”
Cracks now
appeared in the ice-bridge at the southern-end, the noise indistinguishable
from the sound of shifting blocks. Powered snow swirled into the cold air,
disturbed by the yeti changing focus to his left foot; his giant newly-clipped
right foot hung over the precipice.
Though
vulnerable to radiation in the depleted ozone layer the macaque admired the
yeti’s pale blue eyes.
“White people
piss me off!”.
“I have as
little to do with them as possible!” Said the macaque. “You could live
somewhere all your life, and they come along and...”
Both; “tell
you what you already know”.
“Bad
business”.
“Who got to
Everest first?” asked the yeti.
“A black
man!”
“Who saw Lake
Victoria first?
“A black
man”.
"Who discovered
America?".
“A Black man.”
replied the macaque.
“Florence
Nightingale or Mary Seacole?”
“Mary Seacole
every time” declared the macaque.
“Robinson
Crusoe or Man Friday?”.
“Man
Fri-day!”.
“Prospero or
Caliban?”.
“Taliban?”.
“No,
Caliban..not Taliban.
“Oh,
Cal-i-ban, with-out a doubt!”.
The yeti had
finished clipping his toes and admired them now dangling against the backdrop
of the dark void. The macaque was still struggling to reach his toes obstructed
by his huge penis.
An enormous
report burst on their ears as both the north and south ends of the ice-bridge
began to split under the weight of both the yeti and the macaque.
“Oh, hell”
said the yeti.
Both;” Bad
business”.
The
ice-bridge shook violently jolting them both a few inches towards the deep.
“Well, this
is it”. Declared the yeti, a sly eye on an over-hanging branch he privately
judged just within his reach.
As the
ice-bridge fell away, the yeti grabbed hold of the branch, the macaque securing
a hold on the yeti’s legs.
“I am gonna
shake you off”
“No please, I
will do anything, he said his mind on his penis, ” begged the macaque.
Anything?
Probed the yeti.
“Anything”.
The yeti’s
gaze returned from the blue and distant peak of Mount Everest.The steely blue
eyes of the yeti looked into the dark eyes of his companion the macaque and
continued to observe him as he slowly began to slid down the length of his legs.
“Well", said the
yeti. "I do have one thing that I would be delighted for you to do”.
“What is that?”t
asked the macaque.
“Kiss my feet!”. Said the blond-haired
blue-eyed yeti.
