If only I understood (much) more Nepali.

Then I'd know better how to make sense of the last day's events. Perhaps... or perhaps everyone around me, Nepali-speaking or not, is equally befuddled.

The Maoists are struggling to reclaim the moral high ground, if ever they had it, after the suspiciously well-timed release yesterday of a year-old video showing former Prime Minister "Prachanda" bragging to an inner circle of party elders. He boasted therein of having deceived the UN and the country regarding the strength of Maoist forces at the end of the war - the official tally was 25,000 troops, far in excess of the apparent true figure of 8,000. This has arcane implications for the peace process, none of which I'll dive into here. What I will explore was a pieace of Prachanda's response, though I wonder if it's gained something in the translation - an element of menace, if you will.

Speaking at a press conference to respond to the furor over this video, Prachanda (I really shouldn't call him by his own self-aggrandizing nickname, but it's so much easier than "Pushpa Kamal Dahal") grew visibly agitated. Pressed about the tape, he eventually burst out that h was considering releasing more tapes, from during the conflict, showing the brutal murder of various people by his own party. Saying, "I am thinking of giving you another videotape to disclose the rebellious character of Prachanda," he elaborated that the tapes would give the public a more complete understanding of the true ideology of the Maoists.

This was all said in Nepali, of course, and translation is a notoriously unreliable creature here in Nepal. But is there any way to interpret this other than as a gruesome threat? At the very least, it was a terribly intemperate outburst at a time that demands calm, and it supports my continuing view that Prachanda lacks the will, wisdom or temperant to tamp down his furious hordes and reduce the risk of renewed war.

There was a rally tonight in Baneshwor, the core government district of Kathmandu today, wherein Maoist activists brandished torches (in an allegedly non-threatening way) in front of the Parliament. Sadly, despite my best efforts, I couldn't find the bloody thing, which would surely have produced some fine photographs. As it was, I wandered confusedly around downtown Kathmandu for an hour before admitting defeat and heading home. On the walk back to my apartment, I unwisely crossed under the trees ringing the grounds of the now-disused royal palace. These trees are the nighttime nests of apparently all of Kathmandu's birds, and my choice of route had predictably messy results. To compensate, I did find myself in the midst of a gloriously intense swarm of fireflies closer to home; for a born-and-raised Vancouverite, fireflies are a novel treat.