So last Friday was an interesting day. All hell broke loose. I received a phone call from the police at around 3pm demanding I come in and answer charges that I had committed robbery. Robbery. Really? In Nepal? Hmmm…so to say the least, I was intrigued. How? What? When? Who? Where? Me? Really?

I then did what any logical human being would do and called my well connected lawyer, Ram, who was as dumbfounded by the charges and accusations as I was.

It seems the restaurant owner that I had previously bribed was saying I owed her more money. Apparently, her new business was lacking funds, so why not extort the foreigner? She was saying I owed her an additional $2000 US dollars. How she came to this arbitrary number, I have no idea. Thank god, I had all written agreements, contracts and fingerprints in my possession. True factual evidence that I was in the right…right? Well, not so much, as this is Nepal, and truly the end of the rainbow for strangeness, as I have stated in previous blogs.

Needless to say, I was seriously nervous. Why would Santi, demon restaurant owner, say that I owed HER more money when I had to bribe HER in the first place, and then have the guts, the gall- if you will- to take it to the police!??!!

Now, like most foreigners, I am quite happy to NEVER encounter the police, with the exception of those I can regard as friends. I mean, I am in another country, on a totally new playing ground with no idea what to expect. Sure, I had legal documents, signed and registered with the courts, approved by a notary, but here, who knows what could happen…For all I know, I could be thrown in jail for previously bribing the woman who was attempting at present to extort me!

Ram assured me that all would be ok. I took my roommate, Nancy, for moral support. So the motley crew of us arrived at the police station to find Santi giving a detailed sob story of how she needed more money, but I only gave her a little money and now she was in trouble. Well, initially I thought “no brainer, the cops will see right through this act and tell her to get out…”

Then I remembered where I was.

In what I can only describe as a mini-court procedure, the police actually took this quite seriously, as apparently they take all accusations quite seriously. My mind was flashing back to a year previous, when I walked into a police station to point out in a line up who stole my cell phone…Their form of interrogation was quite unlike anything I had ever seen. Let’s just say it involved bamboo poles, a lot of screaming and a bit of blood. I just hoped those bamboo sticks were in the closet and would not make an appearance…

Of course, they didn’t. The police were actually quite nice to me, and quite helpful.  For one, Sub-Inspector KC, was listening intently, and when the argument got quite heated, he apologized profusely for me having to go through this.

I think the big cyst on my forehead was a dead giveaway as to my level of stress, plus the fact I had a lawyer and a friend there with me, one, I wasn’t playing around and two, I wasn’t taking chances…

The police agreed that they would look over the evidence and give us their decision on Sunday, as Sunday is a working day here. I left with Nancy, wondering how in the world could this go any way but in my favor? The house owner, or landlord as we would call him in the US of the premises, would not get involved. In fact, I spent a lot of time thinking about him, his hands off approach and his ”I don’t care who is in my building, just pay me…”attitude.

Nancy and I went over every possible scenario, I went over all the papers that had been drafted and over all beat myself up wondering if there was anything I had missed. I guess I must have forgotten the no more extortion clause in the contract, but who would have thought to add that? I figured the statement that the “transaction is final” covered it. That is what I get for thinking like a logical person here.

Sunday morning, I awoke to quiet streets. Oddly quiet streets. I was to go to the police station at 2pm, so I didn’t think much of the quiet at 7, when I woke up. Around 9:30, I got a call from Sub-Inspector KC, saying that a general strike had been called due to the Finance Ministers new budget for the next fiscal year, not only was the meeting postponed until Monday, but it was not safe to go outside in a car, period. Two of them had already been burned.

A little side note, there are strikes called for various reasons in Nepal, and they shut everything down. It is pretty much like a festival day, but instead of mobs singing songs and walking in a nice procession, there are mobs walking around destroying all public and government property in sight. The police walk around in full riot gear, not doing much, but attempting to control the masses, so things don’t get too ugly. It is one thing to vandalize a park, another to harm a person. I personally like the police here, they have always seemed to do a pretty good job despite their small resources. One must be dedicated to order if they only make about $80 a month.

So, now it is Tuesday and my head is spinning with what to do. I went to the meeting yesterday, and it was in my favor, I think. They took the original $3000 dollars I had given Santi from her bank account (they can do that here! With out warrant or a document from the court) gave it back to me, and pretty much told Santi to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. They then told me I was to give the property back to Santi, and she could make a restaurant there again, since she couldn’t seem to afford the other property. They shamed her for trying to take advantage of me, and attempting to scare me by taking me to the police, and applauded me for not being afraid, but handling myself “like a man.” Strange praise, but, I guess here, it is good praise. They also warned me that they were worried if I stayed at that restaurant, and had any connection to Santi, she would attempt to do this in the future if she ever needed money again. Good logic as a reaction to bizarre logic on the part of Santi.

I now have a freezer and chairs and tables in my entrance way to my home, I have a deep fryer in my living room and a bbq grill in my terrace. All I have really lost is $280 including the new tile in the kitchen of the restaurant that Santi can claim as her own. And time, three and a half weeks of cleaning and painting, but ever the optimist, I guess I have learned a lot. I just wonder, how many lessons do I need to learn? EVIL SANTI.

I don’t know what to do. My boyfriend and best friend have said pick up the pieces, I have all the ground work done, (including my new license to operate a restaurant legally, and it is written in Nepali with a bunch of stamps and cool writing), find another space and move forward!!!

I feel like I just want to stay in bed and give up. Or better yet, give up and fly home. I haven’t even called my family for the past few days, because I know if I would hear any of their voices, I would just want to say “to hell with it” and come home.

But I don’t give up. Or I don’t like to give up. So, I guess I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I came here to start a restaurant, I have done everything the right way, and I have tourists who are waiting for me to open!!!  I have the recipes, I have the grill, I have the fryer, I have friends looking for an EMPTY SPACE, not one with another restaurant owner looking to make a quick buck off of a dumb foreigner, I have the determination and finally, the focus. To be honest, I was missing the correct amount of focus for awhile. All I need is the space.

I guess though, after reading through all of this, it makes sense. There is never a start up business that does not encounter some problems in its induction. It was all running too smoothly for me. I had to encounter some problems. In the US, though, it is usually about a building that does not meet code, or some other legal hang up as such. Here, I guess it is corruption that one meets. And maybe this space was just not meant to be. It was ugly, after all, but I kept telling myself it was just a starting point. And everyone must start somewhere. I was proud of my 7 tables.

Overall though, my biggest fear in life is failure and disappointing my parents. Odd for a 30 year old to say, I realize this. But it is true. I come from a long line of entrepreneurs, especially my dad, who have always done well in the face of adversity. When the cards are down, I just need to employ his lessons, his logic, and most of all his perseverance. I am my parents daughter, afterall.