Kathmandu: Broken Down According to Evan

Excerpt from my travel journal, September 8, 2006:

My week in the Kathmandu Valley has been sufficiently up and down that I couldn't come up with a good way to chronicle my experiences and thoughts on the city. Indeed, I am left with a convoluted sense and often contradictary impressions of the city, and to be sure, with no final resolution to the complexities and nuances that is Kathmandu. Instead, I record a somewhat disorganized collage of experiences and observations that I hope will convey well the scale and the spectrum of senses and emotions I have enjoyed.

The People

The city buzzes with activity from early morning, its narrow side streets reluctantly shared by pedestrians, bicycles, rickshaws, motorbikes and cars. To a point, I believe my time here is a good warm up for the incredible crowds in a major Indian city as there is a great deal of pushing and pulling on a busy street here in the tourist neighborhood, Thamel. Although I imagine India to be on a whole different scale altogether with its ginormous population and related problems.

In general, I find the locals here to be very charming and generally interested in where we are from and especially in what American's think of Nepal. A few times I was left to give the answer to the latter question by explaining the heterogenous nature of the American people: some simply don't know and/or care about Nepal, others may know enought about the recent history of civil unrest to be afraid to come, while others would come but are too bust living the "American Dream" to get up and travel. In truth, I believe the vast majority of Americans belong in the first category, but I assured my interogaters that I think very few Americans think Nepal to be a violent or unsafe country and, if anything, are more likely afraid of the normal unknowns common with travel to all foreign countries.

The Nepalese youth seems to enjoy their exposure to Western culture. I was told priorly that professional wrestling is very popular and this has been confirmed in my mind by the high number of shirts branded with some steroid jockey's face and muscles I've seen worn throughout the city. Other T-shirts featuring Kurt Cobain, Britney Spears, Bob Marley, and random if not clever quips written in English are also popular. Just today I read "I was born intelligent Education ruined me," on one young man's shirt.

A few nights into my stay, my traveling friends, a couple of Spanish men Jose and Julio, and I went to a restaurant that had a few plastic tables outside and sat down for a drink next to a group of 20-something Nepalese men. They began asking me questions across the tables so I quickly took advantage of the situation, grabbed my chair and joined them while my friends were speaking Spanish to each other. Soon the guys and I were having the usual discussion of where we live, why I'm in and what I think of Nepal, and other normal foreigner/local topics. I learned that two of them have been great friends for 15 years and noticed that htey were very affectionate in their drunken state. Nepalese men are often seen holding hands walking in public which I have read is normal behavior for close friends and has no homosexual connotations as homosexuality is officially illegal.

One of the friends is married and I learned that it is normal for Nepalese to get married around the age of 20. This same man loves cowboys- not an uncommon fascination for a foreigner to have from what I've seen- and wants to come to America and go to Texas for the cowboys and Tennessee to see where Jack Daniels is made, as he is a huge fan. I admittedly was a little buzzed myself and was probably more jovial for it. This is evidenced by the unmarried one declaring on multiple occasians that I was fun and he liked me. [I pause to put to rest the questions of this man's sexuality as he clearly and using explicit language explained his fondness for women.] So of course this guy was my favorite and I gave him a coveted postcard. I actually found out later that they came by my hotel looking for me later that night but unfortunately the Spaniards and I were out late eating dinner.

The true charm of the Nepalese people is manifested in the unshy smiling faces of the young children. It is commonplace to be walking down a side street in the valley and, hearing a loud high-pitched "Hallo!", turn around to the excited waving arms of a small group of Nepalese toddlers. On our day trip to Bhaktapur I had the fortune to be approached by five such brave souls dressed in their little school uniforms complete with collared shirt and necktie. They repeatedly competed with each other to be in the photos I was takin gof them and laughed hysterically when I showed them their bright faces on my digital camera. I gave a slight tug on one boy's tie and he slapped his face with both hands giggling uncontrollably and soon they were holding their ties out for me with which to take and flap them lightly on the nose, catapulting each into fits of laughter.

Nepalese women are another source of my fondness for the people. Short and petite, the young women are oftne fashionably dressed and have strikingly exotic features. Because of their small stature, I think the girls appear much younger than they actually are, which is only apparent when view of their mature faces is available. I admit I am attracted to their dark features and slightly curved noses, but alas I have yet to speak with one, as I find them much more reserved that their male counterparts and more often than not accompanied by one. Indeed, the majority of motorbikes humming through town are driven by a young man- probably with relative money- with his magnificently cute girlfriend riding behind him. [Its also common to see an entire family of 4 or 5 riding on one motorbike!]

It is clear that I have favorable words for nearly all groups of the local people and it somewhat pains me to end this section with a summary of one group that I quickly disliked.

One my second full day in Kathmandu, I decided to spend time in the nearby Dubar Square, sitting high on a temple's steps and read, write, and watch the flow of humanity before me. However I left with a sour taste for the cities principal center square because of my constant harrasment by guides trying to bet me to pay for their services. In less than one hour I had to rebuff seven guides that one by one came up and sat next to me, always asking the same questions. "What country are you from? How long have you been in Nepal? Can I give you a 1 hour tour of the square and explain the temples and history?" Getting annoyed at their attempts to guilt me into paying for a tour, I remember that I am constantly fighting the good fight against Ugly Americanism abroad and kept me composure, always politely refusing their advances.

For some naive reason I thought the young man who sat next to me would be different. We began just chatting as usual and he did tell me a great deal about Hindu celebrations and answered every question I had as we discussed some points of their traditions. He was clever enough to thoroughly engage me in what seemed like friendly conversation- exchanging knowledge of our homelands- before revealing his true agenda by asking me if I wanted him to explain the history and temples and in return I donate whatever I felt fair to his education. Of course I hadn't- indeed still haven't- developed a strong enough behavior to reject him after a half hour of discussion and so I reluctantly agreed.

Soon his two friends showed up and they attempted to take turns giving me histories of the temples and the religion. The other two had more difficult accents and talked in a sufficiently confusing manner that I'm sure I'd have learned more reading my Lonely Planet. [Im also sure it didnt help that I was distracted by the disatisfaction I felt for being tricked into the tour.]

Afterward I presented them with what I thought was a very significant payment of 1000 rupees because, again, I'm a horribly soft sucker. (Other guides started the price negotiations at 500 rupees for a 1 hour tour.) The of course seemed disappointed at the amount and tried to convice me in the friendliest way for 500 more to save for his studies, because come one, we are friends! To my credit I politely refused to pay any more and eventually they gave in and got very friendly once more. Giving me their names and phone numbers they told me it's all about making friends and other bullshit until I made an excuse to leave.

I returned to me hotel dazed and disappointed wiht myself at being taken again. I'm sure they only tried to be friends because I told them I was here with friends who were somewhere else (one good excuse to not take a tour) and they wanted me to bring them for a tour in the next couple days. I felt jaded the rest of the night, until that is, I met those guys at the restaurant and successfully flipped my impression of locals on its head.

Indeed, like any big city, a tourist in Kathmandu will find people who see them as a potential money-making opportunity, and people who see them as a potential friend depending on where the tourist chooses to spend time. I was lucky enough to find both in the same day. Without the former, I think I would have not had the same appreciation for the latter, and I am always open to learning from my mistakes, even if I continue to repeat them.

The City and the Weather

Kathmandu is, like I imagine many other big cities are, busy, dirty and often utterly chaotic. This chaos is magnified on the major streets and in the busy tourist area of Thamel by the disorganized traffic, and masses of shopkeepers, artisans, fruit vendors and rickshaw drivers all hawking their goods and services, repectively.

I found few, if any refuges from the madness. Hotels can be so cheep that finding a single room that is affordable is very simple. Exiled in my hotel room I can hear the early risers shouting in the alleys at 6 in the morning. My earplugs provide the only relief from the roar of the city 5 storeys below. It is indeed an early riser's city. The main streets and squares that are so bustling with life by 7 in the monring are equally devoid of it by 10 in the night. This resulted in at last one dinnerless night as I spent each day with two Spaniards, Jose and Julio, to which a meal at 8 pm is very early. Once we did find a revolving restaurant open late and spent the evening eating overpriced food and literally rotating between decent views of the city just beneath us and views of the kitchen door.

This night we had to walk outsie our side street which is lined with restaurants, becuase the power had gone our, and stayed off for the entire evening. This apparently is not an uncommon occurence as a couple nights later it happened again in Thamel while luckily our neighborhood remained with power. A man working in our hotel told us that often there is simply not enough power to go around.

If these blackouts have to do with the day's weather, I don't know. As for the weather in the city, it was as variable as the people I met. The night we arrived, we were drenched in hte torrents of a monsoon. The following day and another after were very sunny, but then the heavy rains again flooded the city streets for days. Indeed, my last days in Kathmandu were all rainsoaked, the rain only rarely easing up enough to enjoy a walk in the muddy streets.

While my written words describing the chaos, blackouts and rain may paint a bleak picture of Kathmandu, I never found this city this way. Because I was just visiting and my experiences with these inconveniences were brief, I found them more adventurous than hassles. I view myself lucky to view the reality of a city- the beauty with the problems- rather than a neatly wrapped package handed to the visiter that many tourists seem to prefer in their pursuit of comfort and luxury.

The Foreigners

I wanted to include a short bit on my experiences with the other foreigners in Kathmandu. Although the glory days of hippie life in the city like it was in the '70s are over, some remnants of this lifestyle can still be seen, such as one temple in Durbar Square being commonly referred to as the Hippie Temple. Indeed I believe that there remains a steady current of hippies and those seeking alternative lifestyles flowing through, or more accurately, floating in, the city.

I found at least one common hangout for such folk and I shared a meal with an aging trio of consumate hippies of an American, a Scott and an Englishman, and youths from France, Greece and Israel. Playing chess and smoking dope, throughout the night they told stories of the drugs of their youth and gave me advice on where to go in India and Nepal, as I trust they've spent many years bumming around in these countries.

The drug scene in the city is very visible as people smoke freely in restaurants and bars. I witnessed on many mornings in the cafe where we ate breakfast, a group of Nepalese teenagers rolling joints with their cups of tea. I joked that many gruff people in the street must think my face looks Middle Eastern because they constantly mistake me for someone named Hashish.

Along with hash-smoking hippies I encountered yoga students on break from months of study in India, and also many young western girls with Nepalese boyfriends.

It was an eclectic group I encountered, but one to which I felt an outsider because I had no plans, nor any great desire, to spend an indefinite amount of time in this city or any other in the region. Our lusts went unshared as I feel compelled to wander constantly to new places and they are quite comfortable to stay months or years in one place provded the alternative life is accepted, and the drugs are cheap.