Monkeys, temples and trash

---

Fully recovered from my stomach ailment, I finally got to spend some time wandering around the streets of Kathmandu. And was saddened by what I saw: trash, everywhere. It was in the street, around the holy temple complex, along the riverbanks.

First, I had to swerve around giant mounds of stinking trash left in the streets. It was probably made worse by the revelry of Tihar -- whereever there's a party, inevitably there's a pile of trash left behind -- but to me it was just another example of the attitude here regarding trash. Nepalis seem to think that throwing it over their shoulders, or out the window, or over the wall, will make it go away. But of course it DOESN'T go away.

There were some people sweeping the streets in front of their shops, and I saw one fellow shoveling up a pile of trash. So maybe it's not so bad, after all, I thought. Maybe someone does come along and pick up all the refuse.

So I felt a little better as I made my way across town. That is, I felt better until I got to a bridge going over a river, and had a look down.

What I saw down there was probably the saddest, most infuriating thing I had ever seen. Instead of rocks, piles of trash poked up through the water, which in places was stained brown from God-only-knows-what was being poured into the river. The banks, on both sides, looked like landfills, the trash completely covering all of the ground. It smelled like a garbage dumpster. And in the middle of it, a little boy was walking, picking his way over the trash and slowly making his way to the water's edge.

I almost started to cry. All I could think was that someone should help these people clean up this mess. It can be done -- us Americans have successfully cleaned up horribly polluted rivers and streams, some right in my own backyard. I know it's possible. And it would be a far worthier cause than handing out sweets to village children or giving away rupees to beggars.

Anyway, I soon forgot about the river, and my ensuing sadness, as I walked away and climbed the steep stairs leading up to the Monkey Temple. As it turned out, due to my stomach woes, I only had enough time to see maybe one or two Kathmandu sights, and the Monkey Temple was first on the list. It lived up to its name, the monkeys crawling around all over the place. They're cute, but they are jerks, too. One of them stole my bottle of orange soda right out of my hand!

This temple was one of the odder places I saw in my travels. Various shops sold everything from soda to trekking maps to Tibetan handicrafts. Childhood lessons from Sunday school came flooding back, and it occurred to me that Jesus would have freaked had he seen all these shops within a temple complex!

So around the edges were shops, one of them playing a hip-hop song, "It's the money." Here and there, devout Buddhists said their prayers, closing their eyes, chanting, carrying sticks of incense. Monks, wearing deep-red robes and sporting shaven heads, wandered around. Tourists in trekking clothes snapped pictures. Monkeys picked at a handful of rice thrown onto the ground for them to eat. It was surreal.

Once I had seen my fill, I headed back to Thamel, with a pit stop in the shopping area of New Road to pick up a suitcase, so I'd be able to carry home all the souvenirs and gifts I had purchased. By the time my stay in Kathmandu had come to an end, I had managed to not only buy souvenirs for everyone at home, but had completely finished all of my Christmas shopping. I was pleased.

But at the same time, I was ready to leave this place. The crowded streets and honking horns were stressing me out, and the pollution was choking me. I began dreaming of the comforts of home -- my own bed, a long, hot shower, real coffee, breathable air -- and knew I was ready to get outta here.

---

Photos

Trash
On the streets of Kathmandu

And more trash
In the river

Monkey thief
The culprit, with the evidence, at the Monkey Temple

The Monkey Temple
The temple itself

Temple shop
A display of goods for sale at the Monkey Temple.