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We had just planned on spending a relaxed afternoon in Patan, but of course, we got more than we had bargained for. It turns out that Patan (a city right smack next to Kathmandu) is in the middle of hosting its biggest festival, the Rato Machhendranath Festival. They make these gigantic chariots out of what looks like sticks and evergreen boughs. Put it on wheels, stick some flags on top, attach a rope, and voilà! Insta-festival.
The chariot actually holds an image of a Nepali Hindu god, Machhendranath. They parade it through the streets of Patan for a full month because they believe that the god will bring them good rains. The thing I don’t understand is that it’s practically monsooning every day, so I’m not quite sure how much more rain they’re praying for. These chariots are so big that they need the Nepali Army to come out. There were so many people in the streets: men selling pinwheels and cotton candy, guys wearing neon orange “VOLUNTEER” vests, the Nepali Army’s band (complete with fifes, bass drums, and bright yellow socks), women wearing their best outfits, and children up on their fathers’ shoulders. The drums, cymbals, yelling, and singing
were deafening, and you could barely move on the street.
Today’s portion of the moving of the chariots consisted of pulling them around the square three times. Several men climbed up the chariots (which are quite tall, well over 20ft. high), and they leaned dangerously to one side. My new friend, Pramod, told me that a chariot fell over on top of a microbus not too long ago and injured a bunch of people. Good thing I was crammed into the doorway of a cybercafé, safely away from the fallout zone in the case of a toppling-over.
We managed to push and shove our way out of the crowd and made it to Patan’s Durbar Square via some side streets. Barbara took us to a rooftop restaurant, where we had a nourishing pre-daal bhaat snack of buttered paratha, Fanta (me), and beer (Barbara).
We barely managed to catch the last bus back to Chapagaun after fighting our way against the crowd of dancers and cymbal-players. The inside was so jam-packed that we figured it’d be more comfortable on the roof. After I succeeded in climbing up the front of one bus to catch the ladder of another,
then leaping from one bus top to another, the guys on the ground cheered. I don’t know if they’re were impressed that a girl did it (apparently only men ride on top of the buses) or if they happened to see up my skirt as I hoisted myself up ladders and jumped between buses.
We caused quite a stir, but you know me: Kate Henschel, creator of scandalous situations in foreign countries. Barbara and I make people talk wherever we go. She drinks beer and smokes the occasional cigarette. I wear skirts that fall a mere three inches below my knee to show off acres of pale shin, and I refuse to walk under an umbrella when it’s sunny. Oh, the gossip we must cause…
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Karin Henschel
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Oh, Kate
Oh Kate, You make your mother proud. Did you get video of the bus climbing exhibition. I must have passed on the scandalous gene but you take it to the extreme. The chariot Christmas tree was insane. Love you, Mom