One of my first attempts at High Dynamic Range photography: underexposed, overexposed, normal exposures in one shot. Since I haven't yet purchased the software to do this, you'll see a "photomatix" watermark on the photo.

What people do when there's a national strike (bandh)

I take pictures of the ground: a child's misfortune is my abstraction

Vendors lock up their carts

Pumps run dry

Children play in the streets

Flea markets shut down

Wood and nails become an object of intrigue

...and so do walls

Boudha, Sunday, Magh 1, 2068

One cannot help but be transformed by Boudha. Built more than 600 years ago, many regard it as the most beautiful and sacred stupa in Nepal. And thousands make the pilgrimage to circle the stupa—always clockwise. It is perfectly proportioned;  perfectly purposeful. Plinth, kumbha, harmika, spire, umbrella: earth, water, fire, air, then 13 steps to nirvana before reaching the void beyond space.

Silently, Buddha’s eyes survey all that transpires below:

Tibetan drums thud

ceremonial horns bellow

monks’ throats rumble

the devout chant

bells clank

bronze bowls “sing”

fingered prayer beads click,

and I murmur “Boudha.”

Brightly attired, hundreds of Tibetans and Sherpas stream from alleyways on every side. They quicken their step to keep pace with those already circling. Birth and death each time a new one enters and an old one leaves. Those orbiting closest to the dome do so more deliberately, cogs set to a slower pace. A few—today’s most devout, clasp their hands in praise:

first at the heart

then from the head, and again at the heart

They salute the God within us.

Knees down

Body prostrate

Forehead to the ground

A clasping of hands

Then erect

Three steps forward.

And the entire cycle repeated until every inch of the temple’s circumference is covered.

Thud, bellow, rumble, clank, sing, chant, click, murmur. Thud, bellow, rumble, clank, sing, chant, click, murmur. From large to small, each sound resonates the universe.

From outside in, each level a different speed until movement turns to a crawl as the most devout prostrate themselves on the face of a stupa that spins slowly, imperceptibly on the earth’s access.

Clockwise clockwork. Birth and death. One eternal round. One eternal round.

Christmas in Pokhara

We spent a few days over Christmas break in Pokhara...Nepal's 2nd largest city and the starting point for treks through the Annapurna mountain range. 

Part of the Annapurna range. Here you can see Annapurna II, II and IV. Several of these peaks are more than 26,000 feet high. Without being there, it's hard to imagine how majestic the peaks truly are.

Our most fun experience by far was paragliding, a first for all of us. Sangarkot (the peak in the foreground) is our jumping off point (literally) for paragliding.

So THIS is how Santa Claus gets all those toys to boys and girls all over the world.

We visit a Tibetan community (Tashi Pakhel). Tibetans first came here after they were expelled from China in 1959. This was one of their original settlements. These Tiebetan refugees are just short of completing a new monastery. The art work is exquisite. Here you see the detail of a painting on the wall. In real life, it's an inch high.


Getting a shave is a cultural experience--one that we want to share with Ben. Here he is getting lathered up. He gets a haircut, along with a head, neck and shoulder massage...all included in the same price. The head massage is brutal and involves heavy clapping and slapping. Somehow in the end, it all feels pretty good.

We spend Christmas morning at Mike's Breakfast, looking over Lake Fewa and listening to Handel's Messiah.

This is a view from the lake. We use a very, very inefficient paddle boat to get to the middle of the lake. But the views are spectacular. Here you see a paraglider above the lake.

Our last day in Pokhara, Betsy and I get up early and take a canoe across Lake Fewa to Chisapani.

We then hike for an hour to this peace monastery. Later, we repeat the hike with Lucie, Eli and Ben.

Each side of the monastery has a statue representing one phase of Buddha's life.

We also hike well beyond the monastery and are rewarded with great views.

Here is Macchapuchree from my hotel room. I was 6 steps and one flight away from my front door when I took this shot.

I am amazed how hard Nepalis work; hoeing, shoveling (one works the shovel into the hard ground and the other pulls on a rope tied to the shovel to help move it with greater force), and carrying heavy loads.

While in Pokhara, I stop by a restaurant for “Maxican” food. I order veggie enchiladas but am given something much more akin minestrone soup with a tortilla. It’s not bad for “Maxican.”

The construction of a Nepali sentence is quite different from one in English. For Nepalis with limited English, I find it easier to switch the order of a sentence to mimic the Nepali structure. For example, to ask “Are you going to Lakeside?,” it is easier to communicate if I say “Lakeside you are going?” But then I begin to sound like Yoda.

There are no words to describe this peace: the birthplace of Buddha.