Nepal, Nov. 24 -- The first thing I hear in the morning is an annoying shrill on my phone. Then something more unpleasant-my yawns and curses-takes over as I straighten up, rubbing my eyes. The alarm is always set for four in the morning, and each day, by 4:03, I'm staring at myself in the mirror above my bathroom sink. My hair is always messy, and I try to coif it with my right hand as my mind speculates about the day ahead-the jogging to the bus stop, a senior lady already there, anxiously looking at the watch tethered to her slender wrist. And then, a tiresome trip along the bumpy roads, exacerbated by the gossiping of ostentatious girls-four of them-who I have grown to dislike without even interacting much.

Things get worse when I st...