CHAPTER 14 - NEPAL PART IV
67 rupees = 1 US dollar
We 4/14/99 A.D. (1/1/2056 B.S). - Kathmandu (1270m)
Our second day back in Kathmandu, perhaps the dirtiest and noisiest city in the world, was welcome to me. I love the over stimulating city, the filth, shoddy dwellings, timeless streets and buildings, colorful people and artifacts. A true photographers paradise.
A few people had suggested seeing the Monkey Temple in Kathmandu. I guessed it to be a "cultural" experience, we occasionally need one, and to my surprise John was also interested, maybe to kill time. Of course we really didn't know what to expect and were more than pleasantly surprised. The day was made with this side trip for we had a constant ball.
The temple, Svaambhu, was a fifteen minute cab ride from Thamel, across the dirty city, a disgusting river. At the base of temple were many taxi and tuk tuk drivers, people swarmed about, then I looked up. An amazing number of steps led to the top of a hill and a temple. The worn white steps ascended endlessly, up and up. Lined along the sides were trees and painted statues and people offering souvenirs.
Perhaps because it was New Year Day and a holiday, many local people were here, most people seemed to be locals.
Two boys too small to be guides asked if their service was required. I laughed at the prospect and bartered their fee, taking one on for 20 rupees (30 cents). Tulashi (to-la-she) and Gunesh stayed with us throughout our time at the Monkey Temple. I had actually negotiated with Tulashi, the more outspoken and more mischieviousness one, not the better of the two with English. Gunesh hung around for the tour, an integral part of our laughing band. We asked the boys simple questions about mani stones and Bhudda and watched them smiling and energetically jump around. Tulashi quickly offered a hand when I would fumble around with my camera and backpack. I venture to say he had never held a camera before. I wondered about school and asked them both detailed enough questions to be assured that they do attend.
Walking to the temple top we passed locals struggling up the many steps. I smiled and taunted some girls because of their exertion and questioned that they were Nepali.
The top of the temple grounds is a mismatch of ancient Bhuddist and Hindu artifacts including statutes, gongs, stupas, and prayer buildings. We entered a gompa and were immediately taken under the arm of a monk in golden robe who I had asked a few questions of. He brought us to the roof top excluding the boys, and allowed us to view the temple from height. He disappeared and us we climbed the narrow staircase back down, he stopped us at his room and invited us inside. Tender Lama had Cokes brought in and we sat staring at photos hung around his very small room In broken English he explained the photos and other objects as best he could. He told us he has been a monk for twenty years, he was only thirty-five, and when John replied with a "wow", he bell laughed and repeated John. We exchanged cards and again he laughed when he saw the Hindu god Ganesh, saying he was good luck. He then pointed to a plastic Santa Claus scene under a clear plastic dome in water, one that was shaken to make it "snow". Tender said that was also good luck.
The boys were waiting patiently for us downstairs, and we wandered around Tender's building to spend too much time and money buying from the merchants there. I bought a little silver jewelry box, a crushed yak bone elephant scene, an other things.
The four of us continued walking through the temple, stopping to see monks in prayer, then buying Cokes all around. We were brought to a funky water fountain with a metal globe at center, then along a pathway lined with more merchants overlooking the distance city.
We again crested the main temple area and headed down the long staircase. The boys were quick to be included in my pictures, smiling and hopping on top of the statues as directed.
We spoke for a while with a cue and sexy young girl selling bracelets. She answered my searching questions only with a little shyness, maybe because money was potentially being exchanged. She was twenty two, married with one child. I flipped through the differences in our cultures, life styles, living standards. She had an attractive little smile and sensuous stance. Our differences hit home when she turned to pick up her filthy two year old behind her, I didn't realize he was their. :Later in our cab ride I believe I saw her and baby walking over garbage and down into a discouraging hovel.
We paid both Tulashi and Gunesh each 20 rupees and shook their hands and said goodbye, but after we negotiated cab fare we found them both in the car with us. They told us, half truthfully I guessed, that they lived near Thamel. Hell, maybe they had never been in a cab before, so I let them come along.
The goal for these few days was errands, mostly buying Nepali gifts for people back home, hopefully unique trinkets. I also looked forward to retrieving the business cards, which I call social cards, from a printers south of Durbar Square I had ordered. I had asked that the Hindu god Ganesh be placed on the card, only because he is the most colorful with an elephant head and four arms.
We were amused because it was Nepali New Year, the year now being 2056, the birth of an Indian lama. The hotel staff and other people in the street wished me a Happy New Year and I couldn't resist smiling and replying the cordial.
There is a restaurant famous with westerners named Fire and Ice, famous for pizza and ice cream. On the trek John had made a date with a girl named Stephanie, and then we also made arrangements with Katherina and Elin. We also found Derek and Mike from York who we met in Namche. Six of us sat together, Stephanie and a French guy later found us and sat within conversation distance.
fun fact: Most offered items on street of Thamel, Kathmandu: rickshaw, Tiger Balm, Swiss type army knives, marijuana, hash
Th 4/15/99 Kathmandu
Tomorrow we fly to Bangkok which means just one more day to marvel at the streets of this poor city, to take photos and by gifts. I wandered around slowly, taking in the smiling badgering people, the non-stop honking of horns, the thick exhaust fumes, and enjoying my shopping fun.
I had planned to return back to the hotel to find John for dinner about 6pm. As mid afternoon approached I tried to prioritize the things to accomplish with a few ours left. Near darkness, just after 6pm, I found my head stuck with the idea of buying Sue a silver hair clip and then surprisingly having a hard time finding one. I searched the street east of Durbar and Durbar Square itself. A young boy offered to show a shop having a clip and I was dragged across the square and through the temple area to no avail. Back on the east side of Durbar Square two men outside a shop directed me south to a few silversmiths. Now it as dark, I wondered if John may be waiting, and I still had a long stop to negotiate prices on tangkas (expensive detailed Buddhist paintings).
I found the silver shop and reached the step high above the gutter and in. There were two men sitting in the small room, one in front of a display case in front of me the other to the left and paused from working on a rough wooden bench. This second man looked rough and simple minded, the few teeth left long in the root and crooked. The silver shop was bare, only a few doze pieces shown. But there was a hair clip, and I appreciated that the men who made the piece were sitting in front of me. To meet the artist of a piece one acquires makes that piece special and I liked the idea. The silver clip is three and a half inches wide, made by punching and filing and etching and bending a piece of silver into an ornate mesh pattern. A garnet is mounted in the center. The clasp is funky though, a slight piece of silver rod, and I wished is was more conventional. I thought it may be okay for a belated birthday or a hello gift for Sue, but buying for a woman is always excruciating unless the gift is electronic or a screwdriver or something else sensible. I was out there on that manly gift buying limb. Well, I thought, I could pick up a couple of other things in case the clip didn't go over well.
I walked back up the small dark crooked street and through a silver shop I had visited twice earlier and found a couple of interestingly detailed pieces, the bracelet made in a home in the town where the young owner. lives, in Paxel.
Because the time was getting on, I took a last rickshaw ride toward to the tangka shop I visited between treks near the Soringa. The driver was young with a incredible smile talkative in simple English, starting with the common, "where are you from". The walk back would have taken twenty minutes and I had hoped the ride would halve the time, but the long narrow two way street was plugged with stop and go traffic, only wide enough for two rickshaws but also packed with people walking and cars. We stopped in front of a shop I noticed on my earlier wanderings that sold only the Hindu forehead dots (not sure of the name) and I hopped out. Sue had dressed in a Bangladesh outfit for Halloween and I thought the dots would make a funny addition.
Between treks I had experimented in buying a tangka at a tangka store in Thamel. I say experimented because these ornate paintings on silk are expensive and I was determined to buy a coupe for the best price possible. I had spent nearly two hours negotiated with the store owners nephew for one in the common theme called "The Wheel of Life" which shows how ones life can be good or evil and the subsequent reincarnated life either better or worse. I had to walk out of the store three times when the young man would not lower his price and then to be nervously begged back, and when he finally reached my offering price he needed to clear it with the uncle. I figured I had done okay since their original asking price was 4500 rupees and I worked them to 2500 rupees.
So, I was back again. The two were there, it eight o'clock, and I believe we were all tired. The uncle sat down across his case of rolled tangkas. The walls were adorned with larger samples, colorful and with exquisite detail. The amount of time for an artist to complete one maybe a coupe of weeks. The price is dependant on size, detail, and the amount of gold leaf paint used. I told the uncle that I was not interested in spending the night arguing over price and he wearily agreed. I picked out two and made offers proportionally to the discounted price received the first tangka for. I didn't budge and he slowly gave in, putting on a bit of a sad and tired face topped with a touch of whining. He knew however, what I had purchased two weeks earlier and relented. I was out of the shop within thirty minutes.
I found John back at the hotel and he had already eaten, so I walked to the center of Thamel to capture my last scenes of nightlife in Kathmandu. I found a restaurant named the "New Orleans Pub". Although they had some Cajun fare, I opted for dal bhat my last night.