As I get into a minibus overflowing with people, I can’t help but smile. The bus speeds off down the road for a couple of yards before taking a sharp during into oncoming traffic to fill up at a gas station. I’m not shaken anymore. I’ve come to love the unexpected adventures that life in Kathmandu has thrown at me. My day isn’t complete unless I dodge traffic from both sides, melt my shoes by accidentally stepping on red hot metal while making khukris, or experience thrilling rides on public transport. As much as I love the hectic nature of the city, it has been the people I’ve met that make Nepal feel like home- the two electronic store workers that give me discounts, the shopkeepers on the ground floor of my homestay, the women at the fruit stand on my walk to the program house. While I don’t have the intellectual depth to understand the deeper meanings of these connections, I can figure out one thing: Nepal has become another home.