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Morning was better. At dawn, the shopkeepers in the tourist ghetto of Thamel splash water onto the asphalt streets and clear away the exhaust, dust, litter, expectorate, plastic bags, wooden cartons, animal feces and human puke, caressing with brooms the trampled down pelt of the earth, finishing nighttime's job of undoing the damage done in daylight. In India, in Nepal, ordinary women in extraordinarinarily brilliant dress walk through fields carrying caked manure and sweep dusty, stinking streets coated with a patina of grime. Crushing color, fabulous filth.