I wish that I had my camera cable so I could download some pictures. There is just no way I can do justice to the temples here with words…and not that my photographs would even come close to capturing the history and beauty that make up the Kathmandu Valley Area… photographs would at least not betray this landscape. My greatest fear is that my words will somehow defame this sacred place, Kathmandu.
One Saturday, we took advantage of another sunny day here, and fit in quite a bit of sightseeing. First stop: Kathmandu Durbar Square. I hadn’t read much about this square of holiness, so I sort of assumed that it would mirror what we saw in Bhaktapur. WRONG ignorant tourist.
You must know that Nepal, well Kathmandu, is littered with UNESCO World Heritage sites, and Durbar Sq of Kathmandu (and Bhaktapur) is just one of them. Most of the squares around the city date back from the 17th and 18th centuries, but many of the original buildings are MUCH older. Kathmandu suffered a major earthquake in 1934 and many buildings were destroyed, and were rebuilt, although I am told not all in their original state. But they are all nonetheless awe-inspiring and breathtaking. I’m thinking by the 1900s the artisans did not lose their hands after creating such beauty (well I would hope).
Durbar Square is in the heart of chaotic Kathmandu and there is as much life and commerce going on inside this area—filled with holy shrines, stupas and temples—as there is in the busy Thamel tourist area. This, my friends, is Times Square. Only, the neon lights are replaced with stone carvings; the high-rise buildings are replaced with wooden temples; the suit-clad business people are replaced with holy men donning flowing-robes lighting candles, ringing bells or saying prayers. Instead of dodging yellow cabs, pedestrians dodge rickshaws and motorcycles. The pretzel and hot dog venders are here soybean and fruit purveyors. It’s frantic and loud and at times puzzling and annoying, but that is what makes it absolutely beautiful.
The temples here display vibrant colors not seen in mellower Bhaktapur. Reds and blues and yellows and white adore the wooden gods and dragons and doorways and window frames that dot the cobblestone landscape and wooden structures. Colorful marigold flower “malas” (garlands) drape walls and gates and doors and sculptures. Holy men here walk around the area in golden orange robes, their faces painted with white and blue markings. These men, known as Sadhus, actually make a living from charging tourists to take their photograph. They are quite striking, however, I nicely refused the offer. The guys wanting to sell you a flute or a pashmina, well they distract you far too much from what surrounds you here. Here, you are surrounded by history and art and more culture that you can even imagine.
There are alleys here that offer surprises of small and large shrines featuring Gods…the most popular, I have found, is Ganesh (he is the elephant-like god – god of good fortune), who watches over the home where we live. There are cows lying about amidst a plethora of pigeons. (It took me back to Venice, but without the cows!) And the fabric stores shilling saris dot every alley and street. At my dear Indian-descent husband’s urging, we ventured into one shop in hopes of picking out a “sari” of my very own. Now, I have never met a store I didn’t want to buy something in, but these sari shops, I was gob-smacked. I stood, with my mouth wide open and my eyes glazed over and didn’t even know where to start! I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t hear anything…dear better-half is talking to me but I could only see his mouth move. I was stuck in a vortex of over abundance…we left, sari-free.
One place that sticks out the most is the Hanuman Dhoka. This was originally the royal palace and was constructed by King Pratap Malla in the 17th century (the original structure, however, was founded between the 4th and 8th centuries AD). This is also where no cameras are allowed inside, but it is outside where I got my most memorable sight. Here, cloaked in red and sheltered by a large umbrella is a Hanuman statue (monkey god), although I didn’t see the statue due to the large red robe covering. This statue is doted on by reverent followers. I think it has its own fulltime employees who tend to the lit incense and floral offerings that are placed in an almost consistent procession. The statue sits up high off the ground, which is one of the things that drew me to it.
And again, I cannot speak of the ancient architecture without mentioning the erotic art. No, I am not a pervert, but it is everywhere, and clearly some of the most eye-catching decorations to be found (well, outside of Buddha’s eyes, more on that later). And while some are PG-13, there are even a greater number that are explicit, and the themes evidently have a tantric element, which is a connection to the intermingling of Tibetan Buddhist and Hindu beliefs. No one here can really explain the importance of the addition to these “scenes” on the temples. I suppose I can live with that.
You can’t talk about Durbar Sq in Kathmandu without mentioning the Kumari Devi. I am pretty taken with this Living Goddess, and if I am telling you something you already know, then skip to the end of this post. The Kumari Devi is a real living goddess. She is a young girl who lives in a building, I like to think of it as a temple, as many people here worship the Kumari Devi, in Durbar Sq (my husband has a co-worker here who lives next door to her holiness, which I think is just too fabulous). She is chosen from a group of girls that “audition” so-to-speak, for the title. The girl who serves this role—or title—is between four years old and puberty. She must meet 32 strict physical requirements from color of eyes to sound of voice. Once chosen, she moves into her new “temple” with her family and only appears in public once a year. And let me tell you, this girl is worshipped. During festival time, all the adolescent girls dress like her with amazing eyeliner (the eyeliner here is quite abundant on women and girls of ALL AGES and can be quite startling at times, and sort of scary in the beginning) and red flowing saris. Once the Kumari Devi has her first *cough* period, or any “serious loss of blood” (?) well she is out and they look for a new goddess. Much like how they treated members of Menudo. But she departs with a nice dowry, so don’t feel sorry for her being sent off to pasture. I read that it is bad luck to marry a former-goddess! (the Lonely Planet guide thinks maybe it is just a pain in the backside to be married to a former pampered “goddess.” Hummmm)
Kathmandu Durbar Square is VERY busy, VERY colorful and VERY spiritual. You have to look past the chaos in front and around you and look up, look to the symbolism and the “religion” of this place. It is living history and people live in the middle of it. Look and marvel at the people lighting incense, laying flowers at shrines, getting a tika on their forehead, saying prayers while others around them make their living selling everything from a wood Buddha to AAA batteries.
New York’s Times Squre ain’t got NOTHING on Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. I hope I never lose the sights, smells and sounds of this place that is now embedded in my soul.
Namaste
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