Ancient Temples and Elephant Erotica

My friend Del said, "tell us more about the temples." Well Del, I am not smart enough, nor eloquent enough, to properly describe my first experiences with the temples and stupas in the Kathmandu area. And while I have only seen a few, too few to wax elaborately about the subject, I am struck by the differences and the commonalities they share.

The Kathmandu area has three areas named Durbar Square: Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan. My first weekend here, my better half and I took the one-hour drive to Bhaktapur. The drive out of the chaos of Kathmandu—on a Saturday, the official day of rest here—was no less frantic as any other day in the city. But our driver, Sujendra, suggested Saturday the best day to travel the short distance. The area in and around Bhaktapur used to have very fertile land, and in its prime was full of farmland. Now, the dusty and dirty road that takes you to Bhaktapur has a few “gardens” scattered along the road. These gardens are no doubt fertilized by not only the dust and dirt from the roads, but also from the gas and oil that spill from the exhausts and motors of the vehicles that travel these tributaries. But the farmers, many dressed in red, tend to them as if they were crafting bonsai trees. They squat and till and weed and even wipe the dirty leaves of the rows of green shooting up from the land.

We arrived in Bhaktapur early morning, paid our fee to enter the city (it is a working city where people live among these temples), said “yes” to a local guy who wanted to be our tour guide (for a fee) and started our journey back into time. The Durbar Square is actually several squares, all of which contain their own temples and shrines to various Gods that are worshiped. The temples in Bhaktapur have elaborate woodcarvings and sculptures at adorn the windows, doors, roofs and walls and are thousands-of-years old. Many are guarded by large stone animals. [Mary Campbell, if you are reading this, cover your eyes!] Early in our two-hour tour, and the only time our “guide” left us to examine a temple without his running commentary, was at one particular X-rated shrine. Here were 51 windows (one for each of the King's wives) and some of the most explicit erotic art, chiseled in large pieces of wood, this side of cyber porn. I think my favorite were the erotic elephant “positions.”

A running commentary from our “guide” was about the absolutely stunning stonework or woodwork inside and around the temples. On several occasions he would add as a footnote: “When this was completed the King ordered the hands of the craftsman be chopped off so he could never again create such beauty.” Talk about penis envy.

The temple squares also have large “baths” where the locals would bathe. The King, being the King and all, had has own private bath that is adorned with a golden cobra. Today, I noticed that the baths are used as places to hang clothes and fabrics for drying in the hot sun. Bhaktapur is also the city where once-a-year animals are sacrificed during a particular festival. I read about this festival this year in our local newspaper as a certain animal rights organization was protesting the “heinous” act. As it was being explained to us, well as weird as it might sound to you, it made sense. This is their religion, not my religion. And I cannot and will not fault nor condemn something that has been practiced for thousands of years. (That is the Baptist rebelling.) Non-Hindus cannot enter the temple where this is done, and only Hindus can enter on special occasions. A guard stands watch with a gun in case someone was to make a mad dash into the scene of the crime.

Ok, the temples and the sculptures and monuments are stunning and breathtaking and awe-inspiring. I will not even attempt to describe them to you. Other than to say this city is made up of a lot of wood and some metal and stone. You don’t see the gold and the vibrant colors here that you see at some of the other temple areas. What you see evokes peace and reflection. And compared to Durbar Square in Kathmandu (more on that later) it is as quiet as a library.

Bhaktapur is a tranquil place where potters fill a square and turn their clay on giant wheels. Where men sit and chisel pieces of wood and craft amazing works of art. Where small old women spin wheels of cotton that will be made into sweaters and handbags and hats and countless other items tourists will take home with them. Where dogs lie in the sun, locals sell their wares and visitors marvel at a place where time stands still.

When I come down off my high I will tell you about my Saturday adventure to The Monkey Temple…a place I was initially forbidden to go…a place where my better half and I spent his birthday!


Namaste

Finding The Bright Light In The Dark

Before I was leaving Barbados for Nepal, I was obsessed with getting new pool float/chairs. My “chair” was a victim of the sun and had pretty much disintegrated. I was going to be one unhappy redhead if I didn’t get a new chair! So, my sweetest friend, who just happened to be coming down for a visit, obliged and brought two that I ordered online. Life was good again; I had my chair in which I could float a few hours away on sunny, hot Barbados afternoons as I gaze at the Caribbean Sea.

And then I stepped into Kathmandu.

And a very cold house…funny how you learn about priorities mid-life.

Nepal has a critical shortage of water. With the shortage of water comes a shortage of power… electricity. During the monsoon (summer) months, well there is a goodly amount of water to fill reservoirs and thus help churn out electricity. In the winter…not so much. So, the government institutes Load Shedding. Twice a day your power is cut; and unless you have inverters and generators at your disposal, well you do without until they flip a switch and turn it back on. At the moment we are entering 12-hours-a-day of power cuts. Yesterday, for instance, we were without in the morning from 4am to 9:30am and again from 2pm to 9:30pm. During the time it is on, you hope your inverter will recharge enough to give you some help for the next cut. Seeing how locals live here (not the pampered expats), I am venturing a guess that the majority of Nepalese do without when forced to do so. I am a spoiled American/Bajan and the thought of doing without is not part of my vocabulary.

Or maybe I should say WAS not part of my vocabulary.

Our rental house has an inverter. If we were to stay here longer, we would also invest in a generator. But you know my story, so best not waste money for four weeks of “comfort.” We will make do with the small inverter we have. The inverter, well it “might” power one light for a couple of hours. But that is about the extent of its usefulness. Yesterday, it did give me Internet (yes it is finally fixed at home) for two hours and for that I am eternally grateful to Ganish who watches over this house.

At night, when we dine at home, we eat by candlelight. Sounds romantic doesn’t it? I am getting quite stingy and I don’t want to waste the inverter on silly things like lights and television (7 Bollywood movie channels!!). So, I am learning to do without. And I do without quite nicely. Last night we watched one candle burn out and were excited to start another one. We lounged on comfy sofas and chatted about things we want to do, things my better half doesn’t want me to do (visit the Monkey Temple) and things we wish we could change about the way people live here. We talked, my wonderful husband and I, and I didn’t miss the television or the light one bit.

Sitting in the dark I have discovered the brightest light of all: it is the small things, things many of us take for granted, that are most important in life. Life’s Lesson after one week here: I can do without. I live with far too much privilege and accouterments. To have power, hot water, someone to love and someone that loves you, well that is about as good as it gets in life.

I don’t think I will look at that pool chair the same way as I did when it arrived.

Life is good…with or without power.



Namaste

The Best Plan is Not to Plan

I was going to blog about Nepal. I had it all planned. I was going to be here for eight months and I thought during that time I would learn a thing or two about the place and I would want to share it with people. Well, not really people people, but the couple of friends who knew I was going to spend some time in Asia and might be interested to hear about the trouble I would be getting into, or the “kooky things” we were doing…my wonderful, incredible husband and I.


But things change, and what I have learned is to never make plans as plans have a way of changing on you. In November, after I had packed a bag with brand-spanking-new winter clothes and shoes, our world was rocked with some terribly traumatic news: my father-in-law was diagnosed with brain tumor(s). While he is being treated, the treatment is to give him time not give him a cure. My husband, an only child, is a selfless man who has resigned his job here with a Humanitarian Organization and will return to our home in Barbados, reclaim his office and position with a Humanitarian Organization, and be close to care for his ailing father…and he wouldn’t have it any other way, that is just the way he is.

Since we had already purchased my ticket, and I am not selfless and shamelessly admit I wanted to experience some of the things my dear husband had already experienced, we decided I would travel back with him (he came back to our side of the world for 6 weeks when his father became ill) and we would come back home together.

So, dear friends, I am only here for five weeks, six tops. And since I have to keep my day job, Monday thru Friday I will spend working as I would normally do in Barbados; however here I work outside at a hotel where I have purchased wireless internet access (our internet is down at our house) with cold hands but a warm heart as I am surrounded by the beauty of this land and its people. On the few weekends we have here I hope to be a tourist and get out and experience this frantic, dirty, chaotic, yet startlingly breathtaking place, Kathmandu.

I am not going to write and give you history and spout founts of knowledge; what I will try and do is show you what I am experiencing and maybe offer a bit of some of the local color that just might not be in the Lonely Planet Guide to Nepal.

Namaste