Kathmandu, Nepal
November 14, 2012
Altitude: 4,504'
Whatever serenity I achieved in Bhutan ended abruptly once back in Kathmandu. I was back in the belching, exhaust filled air of this filthy city. With each step in the crowded tourist section of the city, Thamal, I felt as if I was taking my life into my hands. traffic was horrific, drivers followed now rule. I was a jangled mass of nerves three hours after touching down.
Earlier, I written to my Aunt Gloria that I'd have more time to write once I got back to Kathmandu.
"Oh, Dan," she wrote back. "Kathmandu! It sounds like something our of a Humphrey Bogart film."
Well...I suppose it's easy to see it that way. It certainly does have its share of amazing sites, if one takes the time to get out of the tourist ghetto.
I spent three days there and that was enough. One day was spent at the most important Hindu temple in the country--Pashupatinath. Another was spent in Patan, a medieval city-state that is now part of the city. O spent a delightful day navigating tiny alleyways, getting lost, wishing I had popcorn to drop so I could find my way out. A third day was spent at Bhaktapur. All three of these are UNESCO World Heritage sites and all are astounding.
But it was best fortune to be in in the city during the three day festival of Thiar--the festival of lights which celebrate good over evil--the second most important holiday in Nepal. In India it's known as Dewali--the celebration of light. The goddess Laxmi would be honored..."worshiped" was the word most often used. She is the Hindu goddess of material and spiritual wealth. She is believed to protect her devotees from all kinds of misery--both physical and financial.
I'd first seen glimpses of it that morning when I saw intricately designed mandalas in front of shops. But it was while I was navigating the pack streets of Patan that I saw how the average Nepal prepared for the day. In front of doorways was a large drawn square made of mud. I say mud, but it was a thin layer that simply made the pavement brown. On top of that the mandala was drawn--an intricate geometric shapes filled with different colors,flowers and flower petals. And by each door there were a series of small tiny clay pots--palas--that would be filled with oil then lit that that evening. Every nook and cranny of homes would be lit up with colorful decorative lights in the belief that the goddess would only visit homes properly illuminated.
Above each door was a garland of marigolds--bright orange and hung like Christmas garland. Even dogs had a marigold wreath wrapped around their heads. It was all really quite magical.
And it was this was at every home. Families were busy preparing the mandala, mothers went to street stalls to buy specially baked sweets for the holiday, and some children were expecting "gifts'" from the goddess. It's been likened to Christmas, but only in a remote sort of way.
That evening, when I got back to Thamal, it was dark. In front of each shop--and there are thousands, were the tiny palas lit with candles. Strings of lights--much like we have for Christmas--but inthe country's national colors--were lit up everywhere. It almost felt like Christmas Eve.
Kids were out in abundance and most of them were chanting..."Deusere. Deusere. Deusere." Pronounced doo-ser-ay, it means money. "Money. Money. Money" they chanted at the doorsteps of shops. And each shop keeper would give them a few coins. I imagine this went on in neighborhoods as well.
Older kids huddled in groups dancing--beautifully choreographed Indian dances set to music they'd brought with them. They seemed to be entertaining themselves. Both the groups of boy and the groups of girls were really quite accomplished. For those of who watched, they did come round at the end with a basket. It wasn't hard to throw a few dollars in.
Thihar went on for a few more days, but by the end of my stay in Kathmandu the lights had come down, the candles put away, the mandalas washed from the front of homes and the garlands tossed. Thanks god, I thought. Unlike Christmas which goes on and on and on, Thiar lasted but less than a week.
Despite the chaos Kathmandu can subject a traveler to, it's still a fascinating place--if one leaves the tourist district. How many places in the world have five UNESCO World Heritage sites in an hour's radius?
But...I had to get out of the city. It was just a bit to intense, and there was a lot left to do. I always know when it's time to move on, and three days in the capital was sufficient. Maybe I'll come again, but not for awhile.
November 14, 2012
Altitude: 4,504'
Whatever serenity I achieved in Bhutan ended abruptly once back in Kathmandu. I was back in the belching, exhaust filled air of this filthy city. With each step in the crowded tourist section of the city, Thamal, I felt as if I was taking my life into my hands. traffic was horrific, drivers followed now rule. I was a jangled mass of nerves three hours after touching down.
Earlier, I written to my Aunt Gloria that I'd have more time to write once I got back to Kathmandu.
"Oh, Dan," she wrote back. "Kathmandu! It sounds like something our of a Humphrey Bogart film."
Well...I suppose it's easy to see it that way. It certainly does have its share of amazing sites, if one takes the time to get out of the tourist ghetto.
I spent three days there and that was enough. One day was spent at the most important Hindu temple in the country--Pashupatinath. Another was spent in Patan, a medieval city-state that is now part of the city. O spent a delightful day navigating tiny alleyways, getting lost, wishing I had popcorn to drop so I could find my way out. A third day was spent at Bhaktapur. All three of these are UNESCO World Heritage sites and all are astounding.
But it was best fortune to be in in the city during the three day festival of Thiar--the festival of lights which celebrate good over evil--the second most important holiday in Nepal. In India it's known as Dewali--the celebration of light. The goddess Laxmi would be honored..."worshiped" was the word most often used. She is the Hindu goddess of material and spiritual wealth. She is believed to protect her devotees from all kinds of misery--both physical and financial.
I'd first seen glimpses of it that morning when I saw intricately designed mandalas in front of shops. But it was while I was navigating the pack streets of Patan that I saw how the average Nepal prepared for the day. In front of doorways was a large drawn square made of mud. I say mud, but it was a thin layer that simply made the pavement brown. On top of that the mandala was drawn--an intricate geometric shapes filled with different colors,flowers and flower petals. And by each door there were a series of small tiny clay pots--palas--that would be filled with oil then lit that that evening. Every nook and cranny of homes would be lit up with colorful decorative lights in the belief that the goddess would only visit homes properly illuminated.
Above each door was a garland of marigolds--bright orange and hung like Christmas garland. Even dogs had a marigold wreath wrapped around their heads. It was all really quite magical.
And it was this was at every home. Families were busy preparing the mandala, mothers went to street stalls to buy specially baked sweets for the holiday, and some children were expecting "gifts'" from the goddess. It's been likened to Christmas, but only in a remote sort of way.
That evening, when I got back to Thamal, it was dark. In front of each shop--and there are thousands, were the tiny palas lit with candles. Strings of lights--much like we have for Christmas--but inthe country's national colors--were lit up everywhere. It almost felt like Christmas Eve.
Kids were out in abundance and most of them were chanting..."Deusere. Deusere. Deusere." Pronounced doo-ser-ay, it means money. "Money. Money. Money" they chanted at the doorsteps of shops. And each shop keeper would give them a few coins. I imagine this went on in neighborhoods as well.
Older kids huddled in groups dancing--beautifully choreographed Indian dances set to music they'd brought with them. They seemed to be entertaining themselves. Both the groups of boy and the groups of girls were really quite accomplished. For those of who watched, they did come round at the end with a basket. It wasn't hard to throw a few dollars in.
Thihar went on for a few more days, but by the end of my stay in Kathmandu the lights had come down, the candles put away, the mandalas washed from the front of homes and the garlands tossed. Thanks god, I thought. Unlike Christmas which goes on and on and on, Thiar lasted but less than a week.
Despite the chaos Kathmandu can subject a traveler to, it's still a fascinating place--if one leaves the tourist district. How many places in the world have five UNESCO World Heritage sites in an hour's radius?
But...I had to get out of the city. It was just a bit to intense, and there was a lot left to do. I always know when it's time to move on, and three days in the capital was sufficient. Maybe I'll come again, but not for awhile.
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