Saturday, March 24, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Samyak festival
Once every five years Samyak takes place in Patan. This festival was only a 10 minute walk from our house. The festival was on Friday evening and Saturday. Betsy and I went Friday night and enjoyed it so much, we returned Saturday with Lucie, Eli and a colleague of mine (Maryanne). The festival includes dozens of larger-than-life statues of Buddhist gods and goddesses that are brought from various parts. In addition to an interesting festival, we got to see a corner of our neighborhood we didn't know existed. We loved the little alleys that suddenly opened onto a big plaza.
| This is my favorite picture! |
| Long shutter speed of a ceremonial umbrella behind a statue of the Buddha |
| Me experimenting with a long shutter speed |
| This is a painter of Buddhist Thangkas. This one will take about 7 months to complete |
Monday, February 20, 2012
Word to the Wise: Don't Mountain Bike on Lord Shiva's Birthday
Today is Maha Shiva Ratri--Lord Shiva's birthday. Shiva is the Hindu lord of cosmic destruction and dance. Many Shiva devotees fast and offer special prayers the night preceding this holiday. People also offer flowers and incense. According to some sources, the celebration originates from samudra manthan or churning of the ocean of milk. When the gods and demons churned the ocean of milk to obtain the drink of immorality, they discovered many unusual substances, including a deadly poison. The gods were terrified and approached Shiva for help. Operating out of compassion for all living beings, Shiva swallowed the poison. The poison was so potent that it turned his neck blue.
What more appropriate day for mountain biking? I had the day off work and figured it would be quiet outside of Kathmandu. I was surprised when just a few feet from my house, children blocked my progress by stretching a rope across the alley. They all had smirks on their faces and some chuckled under their breath. I was not allowed to pass unless I gave the children paisa (a small amount of money). I gave them a 5 rupee note which I'm sure was far more than they expected--but it was the smallest change I had. A few blocks away, another blockade. Different kids demanding the same thing. Fortunately, there were only half a dozen road blocks in the city. But unfortunately, there were many, many more once we left the confines of Kathmandu. I'm not sure what the connection is to the festival but the "ritual" reminded me of a cross between kids selling lemonade and trick-or-treaters being too coercive. Over the course of the next two hours, we encountered barrier after barrier--even small clusters of houses had children who set up such blockades. My 100 rupees didn't last long. Fortunately, my day guard (Roncit) who went biking with me successfully negotiated every subsequent roadblock. Usually the exchange was predictable. Roncit would explain to the children that we didn't have any money left, that we'd given it all to the children at the many, many roadblocks before theirs. With my limited Nepali, I'd chime in: paisa chai na (no money). At first, the children would throw us a doubting glance, knowing that we were just joking. It was only after 3 or 4 minutes of explanation on our part that the kids would finally recognize we truly had no money. Had I had any more money, I would have given it to each child. The look of disappointment on every child's face was enough to make one cry.
The bike ride itself is quite spectacular. Once I feel a bit more solid in my bike riding skills, I'll take my camera and share pictures on this blog. On clear days, I can see the Himalayas--not just the peaks but a substantial part of the base of each mountain. Even when the views aren't clear, it's great fun climbing up each hill, swerving around each bend and surveying the lush paddies, filled this time of year with yellow mustard plants. After climbing for some time, we descend to a very bumpy dirt road that follows a rather large river. Today everyone is out washing clothes (even men and boys wash clothes here), bathing and (once we got closer to Kathmandu), washing their cars. The little kids are exempted from work and allowed to swim. I am impressed by the unintentional but seamless integration of work and play. For the Nepalis by the river, they are no different.
A few years ago, I read a book by a couple who abandoned their material trappings to live among the Amish and last a full year without using electricity. They mostly succeeded. Of course, the Amish were incredibly welcoming and shared many skills needed to survive. The couple noticed, however, that the Amish didn't really take time for leisure. After several long months of plowing fields, gathering food and building houses, this couple realized that for the Amish, work WAS play and that the way we as "Westerners" compartmentalize work and play is a rather arbitrary division that leads to a great amount of stress: we work constantly under difficult conditions and then, for a two week period, all the stress is over. We take trips to the Bahamas to forget our work, then return to long days in the office as though we are leading two different lives. Needless to say, I'll be going back to the river to learn how Nepalis--most of whom have almost nothing to their names--are able to integrate work and play.
Caste
One cannot
live in Nepal without being conscience of caste. It manifests itself in so many
ways, ways that we as outsiders can't always detect. For example, I assume that
people of various occupations are of roughly equivalent stations in life. But in
fact, those who carry out manual labor--and especially labor involving physical
contact with humans and animals--are of the lowest castes.
Today we
joined the American Club (known locally as Phora). It's situated on a large
compound in downtown Kathmandu and includes squash and tennis courts, a pool, a
bar, restaurant and beauty salon. We especially enjoyed the commissary which is
a grocery store of sorts with food exclusively from the US, Europe and
Australia. Prices are high ($5.45 for a bag of Sun Chips) but it's worth it. Or
is it? Outside the American Club, Nepali children beg for a few coins. Neither
they nor any of their compatriots are allowed into the compound. I guess we're
not so far from practicing a caste system ourselves.
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