"What's the first thing you're gonna eat when you get back?" she asks me.
It's only the end of our first week and already we're talking about home. Then again, every day here feels like five. Plenty of time to feel homesick.
We're laying up on the roof as night sets in on the city. The dogs have already started their nightly barks and howls. The stupas off in the mountains light up like beacons.
"A pepperoni pizza. No doubt."
They have pizza here, but it's just not the same.
"I'm gonna go to Five Guys before anything else."
My first meal when I arrive back in Orlando turns out to be McDonald's. Hers will be Ruby Tuesdays.
"But first I'm gonna light up a bowl, goddamn," she adds.
We laugh, and then we go silent, and our silence is filled in by the noisy Kathmandu night.

"I miss Winter Park and my dogs." she says.
"Orlando can burn but I miss Tallahassee," I respond.
She gives me a firm punch in the arm.
"Hey! I like Orlando."

It's gonna be a long time before we're back in Orlando.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" I ask.
Tomorrow being the day we leave the city and travel to a rural village in Nepal's hot and humid Chitwan district.
"I'm nervous."
"Me too."
I feel like I'm about to embark on some big journey, explore the countries interior, with little idea what to expect. Very Heart of Darkness but with less imperialism. And in place of a boat on the Congo we'll be traveling in a battered van around the sharp twists and turns of mountain roadways.

"I can't stop thinking about cheeseburgers now," she says.
"I can't stop thinking about pizza," I say.
We laugh, not realizing that after we do touch down in Orlando and find our way back to our lives in Tallahassee, it will be Nepali meals of dal dhat, momo, and pickle that we'll be missing.