17
Tony’s calls prove productive.
His friend, who knows a friend, who
knows a friend, leads us to the Kathmandu bazaar in the center of the city. It’s
a congested place with narrow alleyways that access old brick and wood
buildings that house vendors selling everything from metal cookware to jade
jewelry to pet monkeys. The place smells of peanuts roasted outside on small
gas-fired stoves and, unless you know your way or follow someone who knows how
to navigate the maze of alleys and corridors, you might get lost for days on
end. It’s that claustrophobic, that crowded, and that complicated to get around
without a proper rudder.
When we come to a building that
sports a glass façade displaying a sea of cell and smartphones, digital
cameras, HDTVs, and all sorts of electronic jun
