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The oldest temple, from whence Kathmandu received its name, was built in the 12th century, and legend has it, from a single tree. It is called Kasthamandap, and in Sanskrit, means "wooden house."
Legend has it that if your heart is lying as you pray before this destructive manifestation of Shiva, you will die.
My last night in Italy was perfect. Dear friends, clear skies, and this:
Molly dropped me off at the airport Thursday afternoon and I began the two legged journey to Kathmandu. Predictably, I had spent that entire morning finally reviewing the compilation of Nepal websites and blogs I had been stockpiling as survival guides. Nothing beats a state of procrastination that is miraculously devoid of stress. As I sat in Naples, reading what probably should have been read much earlier, I felt nothing but unrestrained excitement. The night before I had re watched "180 Degees South," a documentary that sparks nothing short than the desire to explore open spaces and do good. To quote: "The world adventure has gotten overused, to me, adventure is when everything goes wrong. That's when the adventure starts." I felt like my spirit already had one foot in Nepal.
After a long layover, exacerbated by a delay, in Istanbul, I touched down in Kathmandu at 9 this morning. I felt energy surging through me as we landed. How could I not smile in such a place as dreams are made of? The largely western crowd of passengers deplaned and we boarded busses, packed like sardines, and were transported 20 meters (necessary?) to the airport.
I was prepared. A sense of coiled calm spread through me as I waited to greet the certain mayhem of the Kathmandu airport. All the accounts I had read promised chaos, hundreds of weary passengers colliding into the confusing visa process, stampeding the baggage claim, before bargaining down a crush of taxis. All this with the backdrop of an airport that hasn't been updated since the 1970s. I was prepared for an hours long ordeal filled with tooth and nail fighting and extreme body odor. Imagine my happy surprise at the well marked visa and visit forms, the long but orderly visa line, and my luggage waiting for me in a neat row beside the baggage claim.
The surprisingly subdued visa line. $100 for a 90 day visa...done.
Breezing through customs, I exchanged $20 and was out the door searching for a taxi less than 90 minutes after touchdown.
I will admit, that rather than bargain for a taxi, I paid a whopping $6 for the 15 minute ride into Thamel, the touristy district of Kathmandu. From my very first interaction with the Nepalese in the airport, I felt embraced with the unabashed warmth and kindness of these people. My taxi driver inquired into my itinerary in Nepal and seemed genuinely excited that I was going to be in his country for so long. Kathmandu swept pass the windows; dirt paths, colorful yet grubby storefronts, and dogs, men, children and women squatting, kneeling, standing, walking absolutely everywhere. There was no sense of calm or quiet, yet I felt peaceful.
When I told my driver that I was in the market for a potential guide to Everest Base Camp (after reading a few blogs, it seemed we would be missing out on local knowledge of the Himalayas if we went sans guide...not to mention neither Em or I have any experience with overland trekking navigation), he proceeded to dole out the merits of quite a few trekking companies. Without further ado, and with no additional charge, he took me on a tour of trekking offices to shop around, giving me an opportunity to understand the personalities of the different companies.
Just a bellowing calf walking down the street.
The Dream Nepal Hotel is base for the next few days until Emily and I head out on the trek. Emily flies in on Sunday evening and I will be there to pick her up. The hotel is set in the heart if Thamel, down a maze of alleys and side streets.
After collecting myself briefly in the hotel and drinking my first cup of masala tea, I headed out into the romance of Kathmandu. Apparently, honking your horn is a sign of creativity, because it is a constant ring along the streets. Storefronts and vendors display goods to be bought, everything from trekking gear to CDs to Yak meat. Pedestrians, dogs, scooters, rickshaws and cars all compete for the precious little pavement on the narrow roads, and I was almost sideswiped more times than I care to count as I was pulled into the crowd and carried from plaza to alley to temple.
A future rescuee?
My goal was to get a feel for the bustle and layout of my surroundings, since I will be living in Kathmandu for two months upon my return from the trek. My initial sensation of being in the city was as a vulnerable foreigner. Within minutes though, I was in the rhythm of the people. Most everything in the tourist area of Thamel is in English, and there is a curious combination of poverty, and North Face merchandise. Sadly, one of the first things I noticed was the overwhelming pollution. By day's end, my nose was running and I could feel a tightness in my chest. A good percentage of Kathmandu's residents wear face masks or scarves to protect them from the air that is second only to Mexico City for worst pollution.
My free city map was mostly useless as the streets are little more than alleys, and what seemed to be major plazas were unmarked. After many wrong turns, I eventually made it to Durbar Square, a world heritage site with dozens of unique temples. After being approached by a dozen or more Nepalese in the street offering some trinket or service, I finally decided to take a guide up on his offer of touring the temples. My working knowledge of Buddhism and Hinduism, the two main religions in Nepal, is dismal, so I listened intently as Devi explained all that was around me. The 43 temples, landmarks and significant buildings in this small area are for worship of Buddha, Shiva, Krishna, the Kama Sutra and more. Most fascinating was the temple of Kumari-ghar, the Living Goddess.
The Living Goddess is believed to be the reincarnation of the goddess Taleju, and right now a nine year old girl lives in this temple with her priestess guardians. When she reaches puberty, a new little goddess will be sought and she will have to undergo a battery of tests to include spending three nights alone in a temple with the bodies of 324 sacrificed animals. Pretty traumatic for a 3 year old. Thanks to Devi, we timed it so that we could witness the Living Goddess during her daily reception of admirers and so wish her Namaste.
Somehow the cost of the tour went from $20 to 40 Euros during the hour. I compromised with $30.
A view of Silyan Sattal from Kasthamandap.
As the sun began to set, I climbed the tallest temple, Taleju Temple, and watched the bustle of the street market below. This temple was nicknamed the "hippie" temple when in the 1960s many expat hippies came to Nepal and congregated here to get high. The nearby "Freaky" street was another popular hangout. According to Devi, now only "nice hippies with nice clothes and nice cameras" come to Kathmandu.
Navigating my way back towards Thamel, I heard a loud commotion coming from an uncharacteristically wide boulevard. Deciding to investigate I ran smack dab into a group of armed riot police. In an attempt to dodge them I was nearly ran over by a moped, before being bumped into the crowd protesting in front of a large white building. Adrenaline! Nepal is holding elections this month, and there is political unrest amongst some groups.
I stayed to linger, but realized I didn't know where I was and it was getting dark. Continuing on, I stumbled upon a cozy and popular restaurant, and ate some incredible Indian food. For whatever reason, I assumed the portions would be small in Nepal, but I couldn't even finish what I ordered. The scheduled blackout for the area descended midway through my meal, and I enjoyed my food by candlelight.
$5 = tofu curry, veggie biriyani, and a pot of hot water with honey and lemon
Leaving the restaurant, the streets still bustling, I figured it would take me ten minutes to find my hotel. An hour later, I was starting to get seriously concerned. Finally, I just stopped in a corner and looked really confused staring at my map. A Nepalese to the rescue! A man immediately came up to me, and instead of giving me directions, walked with me the five minutes to Dream Nepal Hotel. It may have only been five minutes away, but I would never have found it. I was so grateful, and he just smiled and continued on his way. Oh, I may really fall for this place.
Kathmandu is dynamic. She is beautiful and ugly, loud yet serene, swelling but collapsing. I feel so lucky that I will be able to spend this time here and in other areas of Nepal, exploring, learning and maybe having an adventure or two.
To all, namaste!
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