This is dung?

It's the last night of Tihar, the Hindu festival of lights, and it feels a little bit like Christmas here. Every shop is draped with marigold garlands and at night the streets are all lit up with candles and little colored bulbs. Yesterday there was a motorcycle rally outside the guesthouse, and everyone was in the street dancing to a mix of Nepali techno and the Rolling Stones, drinking clay saucers of Roxy (Nepali alcohal that tastes like kerosene) and eating from big bowls of spiced goat meat. So we called the monastary and told them that "the road was blocked" and joined in. Turns out Roxy + goat meat (so much for this month of vegetarianism) + dancing was not a good combo, especially after two of the guys from the guesthouse decided to take us out on a motorcycle ride and we swerved through backstreets til I felt like I was going to puke. But until then, wow, it was fun!
Even weirder/more incredible than Tihar was this past weekend, when Steph, Gina (who's gone now...we all miss her) and I went to the cook Deepak's village with a couple of boys who also work at the guesthouse. The first bus was easy but there was no room on the second. So we rode for almost two hours on the top of the bus with about 20 other people and a goat. It was both the best and worst ride I've ever had - the bars on the roof made welts where I sat, but the complete panoramic view going over the ridge to the next valley was worth the bruises. By the time we got off we were sore and starving, and the boys said it was just 15 minutes to the village. I don't know if Americans are just really, really, really slow, but it took an hour and a half to walk down this monsoon flood stream to the house. We were pretty pissed by the end.
Deepak has seven brothers, and their houses - just kind of scattered on the steep, jungley slope - are basically the village. We sat for a while on the porch while his whole extended family stared at us, then had some dinner. I tried to eat with my hand like everyone else but spilled curry all over myself. Then after dinner we were all just huddled around the stove (a fire pit in the floor of the main room) and Deepak's niece started cleaning the eating area with what looked like a piece of clay. The three of us sort of looked at each other and finally Gina asked one of the boys what it was. He went:
"It's, how do you say, from animal? Oh yes, dung."
Turns out the whole house was made from dung. But it was cozy - we all sat cross-legged on the floor of the cavernlike living room and the candlelight against the rusty orange walls made it glow. Someone brought out some Roxy in a big plastic canister, and the whole family stayed late drinking and talking and playing cards. We slept in a line on the (clay? dung?) floor, a five-inch grasshopper jumped on Gina, I woke up paranoid about bugs about 50 times during the night, and in the morning had a few bites and even more throbbing limbs...which the bus back didn't help. But it was so great to go. Even though Kathmandu is a lot different than Seattle, the village was on a whole other level.
Teaching has been going okay. I'm doing environments (forest, desert, etc.) in the older class and yesterday brought in some markers for them to draw the concepts, which they seemed to enjoy. The younger class has been a struggle...the last couple days I've been trying vowels and consonents and just not really getting through. The only one who's getting it is, ironically, the Tibetan teacher.
So that's pretty much it for now. I miss you all...please send me an email or something and tell me how you're doing! And I'll update again soon. Love!