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Published: March 31st 2008
Rooftops of Kathmandu
People spend much of their time on the rooftops of their homes in Kathmandu. Many are decorated with prayer flags like these.We headed to Nepal not really knowing what to expect. Neither one of us had been there before, and for some reason we had both decided against a guide book. We were quickly and efficiently relieved of our first small bill by a free, but not free, airport trolley service wheeling our bags along all of 30 meters or so. But a sign for Christopher and Alezander and the man who was to be our trekking guide greeted us outside the airport, and we proceeded, relieved, into the city.
The drive from the airport was a noisy, fume-filled stop and go adventure. I mused at the lack of traffic police for actual traffic, considering there were two or three traffic police blowing whistles with surprising gusto at the entirely pedestrian traffic at the airport.
Our hotel was an island of calm in a sea of noise and bustling activity (including a Maoist electioneering campaign!). The monkey temple was visible from our balcony along with a number of rooftops covered in prayer flags.
We had a few days before we were to hit the mountains, so we headed to the local sights. First we walked to the Monkey Temple.
Street Markets
Vendors sale all manner of items on the streets of Kathmandu. The walk to the temple was disheartening. Roads were in a pitiable state, boys as young as ten staggered around huffing glue, and trash people actually crossed the river on a stable bridge of trash. However, there were also small things that made me smile. A man sitting on the steps of a small temple gave us directions unasked and without asking for anything in return. A boy squirted us with water in anticipation of Holi celebrations as another chased Chris around with a broken badminton racket. Birds sometimes snatched grains of rice off the heads of gods in small shrines.
The temple itself was amazing. Monkeys lolled around the steps up to the stupa which was surrounded by prayer wheels and small lamps. I made it a point to go around the whole thing and spin every single wheel. I probably got a good year's worth of praying in 10 minutes.
The next day, we embarked on a more extensive sightseeing trip going first to the Durbar Square pictured below, and next to the city of Bakthapur. Durbar Square was pretty amazing, but we were hassled at every turn by young men trying to guilt us into
Colorful Bindi
A statue sports a Bindi in a small temple. Hinduism and Buddhism are intertwined in Nepal. hiring them as guides. Chris remained fairly upbeat, but my mood was sour. Maybe that made me enjoy the sight of Vishnu ripping the entrails out of a demon and actual entrails draped over a temple door a little too much.
Bhaktapur was a totally different story. We bit the bullet and hired the first guide who approached us in the parking lot. It was the best decision we made all day. Bhaktapur is not a single temple or even a complex of temples, it's an entire city. Our guide helped us navigate through a laberynth of tiny alleys lined with ancient wooden panelled houses and introduced us to the major and minor ancient buildings of the city. I would do a pitiful job of explaining even one tenth of what we saw there, so I'll just leave with you some of the images struck me at the time. Outside a palace that had been converted into a school at the edge of a temple complex dating back centuries, a small boy pelted a teenage boy who was trying to impress a girl with an early Holi water balloon. The older boy was not amused, but couldn't find the
Prayer Wheels
Spinning these prayer wheels allows one to say many prayers in a short time. culprit. The door to the king's bath with all its gold plated majesty stood beneath a military guard tower. Our guide left us to contemplate the erotic and instructive art of a Brahma temple alone. What tact! Women everywhere were knitting caps for the tourist trade in doorways and resting areas. A crowd of locals gathered around a lively domestic dispute. An old potter working on a manual wheel demanded, "Picture, rupees!" so we decided against snapping one. The ancient bell for tolling the hour rang right on time as it has, no doubt for hundreds of years.
The next day we packed our bags, jumped on a bus and headed for the top of the Himalayas.
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