Having arrived into Kathmandu I quickly realised that there was a lot to take in. I was unsure how I was going to make sense of it all but it was obvious that I would not be able to quietly observe from the sidelines. Firstly, there are no sidelines and secondly there is no such thing as quiet in Kathmandu. Hotels arrange to shepherd tourists from the airport to their accommodation in Thamel; the main hub for tourists. While this is helpful it is easy for tourists to think that the claustrophobia of Thamel is representative of KTM (Kathmandu). Most tourists fly in and are quickly bussed out to the conservation parks, trekking regions and rafting areas after a very brief stay in Thamel. This tiny part of town is a real-life Google for tourists. The amount of hoardings makes it very easy to find things quickly, although the competition for street-level space is such that if you are looking for one place in particular then you will not easily find it. Email, photocopy (visas), internet, cybercafé, laundry, restaurant, bar, guesthouse, equipment, DVD, pashmina, trekking, rafting, mountain-biking and tours are what the signs state simply. One quickly understands that tourists have everything they could possibly need here but such is the competition for business that everything is generic, hence the simple signage.
Thamel is a small place. The streets are tiny and not much light makes it through. The open shop-fronts and numerous street-sellers make you feel like you are walking through the aisle of a supermarket. However, in Thamel somebody is more than happy to guide you down the aisle to help you shop. As competition is tough (tourist dollars is the best source of income here) there is a huge amount of people shouting to grab your attention. On top of this the Nepalese tend to drive with only one hand on the wheel. I should clarify, the other hand is on the wheel too but it is kept firmly on the horn. The funny thing is that even though the noise is constant and even deafening, it is never threatening. They beep simply to alert you that they are coming through, not because you are holding them up like in Dublin. One quickly senses that there is no rage here. It feels like quite a stress free place even though tourists could easily be overwhelmed here. Of course, the fact that they don’t really giving a damn about much explains why they are always smiling and very gracious. One would think that they might worry about the fact that a slight breeze blowing in from the valley might cause a domino rally of houses. Certainly, it seems like these people are built on solid foundations even if their homes are not.
If it wasn’t so hard for a Nepali to get out of the country, one would think that they all learnt Commerce in UCD. They are not shy of trying to rip people off Dublin-style; however, it is difficult to feel ripped-off when we are talking in terms of rupees. Still, the amount of young volunteers and back-packing nomads means that it is possible to pay next to nothing for everything. Once you step off the street and slip through a tiny alley you notice that there are two different worlds here. The alleys are literally portals to the real Kathmandu. Set-back from the street the din softens, the prices deflate massively and the kitchens become even more authentic. If a take-out back home costs about a tenner, then the same Chow-mein or whatever will cost 70 cent here. I’ll have two please! What’s more, the food is ten times better than at home. Of course, I might not want to risk the local tap-water but I could eat here every night for the rest of time. Everything is simple but more importantly, everything is simply delicious and agreeable. I struggle to understand how the majority of restaurants in Dublin are fine purveyors of the tummy rumbles. The things we put up with! Of course, down the alley people are even more gracious because they really appreciate your business. Life is hard here, there is no doubt about that but regardless of how run down and lacking it may be in terms of all the normal infrastructure that we expect, the people and the city are very clean considering the amount of dust and lack of proper rubbish collection. While you can’t ignore the poverty it is not in your face. Nepali’s are mostly Hindu but a lot of them would follow the Buddhist teachings too as it’s compatible with Hinduism. There are few billboards and lust is not really advertised here the way it is in the West. The lack of desires and practice of moderation show that they are very true to their beliefs. They have values and seem very proud of them unlike at home where religion and spirituality are things that you fit into your day, if at all.
I had to get out of Thamel and so I wandered down to Durbar Square, one of three such squares full of temples, each of which is a world heritage site. Shrines and temples are commonplace and they are very integrated into the lives of the people. Durbar Square in KTM is just a rat-run for the locals. This walk through Kathmandu just reminded me that I didn’t have a clue as to what was going on here. I had been run-over by a rickshaw; I had even wandered home from the pub to find a solitary cow walking towards me. Never has Robin’s catch-phase ‘Holy Cow!’ been so appropriate but where was Batman to make sense of all this for me. Of course, I was quickly approached at the entrance to Durbar Square by a local offering to guide me and as I could understand his excellent English I was more than happy to pay him whatever he wanted. I had just spent 40 minutes alone with a Buddhist monk in his shrine and conversation was not exactly great as we could not understand each other, possibly a good thing! My guide was great and ensured that I saw the Kumari, the living Goddess. Appearances by her are rare (not sure) … she does not seek attention like most normal happy-go-lucky four year olds but then being a living Goddess is not exactly normal. My guide explained a fair few things to me and he linked me up with a rickshaw driver to take me back to Thamel. It’s nice to have someone else do the cycling!
So having ventured out of Thamel, I needed to venture out of KTM. I gave as good as I got in Nepali traffic … which is as technical as mountain-biking can get. I love cruising cities on a bike. In KTM I was no longer the white-man, instead my pale complexion assumed ghost-like qualities as I seemed to disappear from view of the street-sellers altogether. I cycled pretty aimlessly … well, I aimed for Patan but there are no signs anywhere to tell you where you are so I ended up cycling aimlessly for two and a half hours. The dust and pollution were pretty intense on the highways but this was due to road-works. Traffic here doesn’t go in a straight-line, it zigzags all over what is a straight road. This means that it is no longer so menacing much like a crocodile when forced to switch direction constantly. The result is that I’m pretty much as fast as most vehicles, save for the motorbike. If my push-bike wasn’t so heavy then I might have given it a run for its money too. Ironically, the highway was the safest place for me, I wasn’t brave enough to cross the dirt verge and explore the extra-burbia of Kathmandu, not that Kathmandu feels unsafe; not at all.
I am making friends, which is great. I’m in with the anglophile set, but I have met a couple of girls who live here full-time. One is working with volunteers and the other married a Nepali and now has her own tour company. She is a keen mountain-biker so she very kindly offered to guide me through the valley and told me what was what. In return I am going to use her for an overland jeep tour into Tibet. My original plan of biking across the Tibetan Plateau has fallen through, simply the organiser accelerated anybody looking to go in October to the September tour on the back of visa concerns. This meant that 16 people finished that particular trip the day I arrived and there was nobody left to go with. I met with an Aussie and an Israeli who were looking to recruit people for a tour to Mount Kailash. This is a very holy mountain and has never been climbed (officially at least) out of reverence to Buddha and the Hindu God of Shiva who resides there. It’s very remote and so it provides the authentic Tibetan experience unlike Lhasa which by all accounts is a modern Chinese city. The infrastructure programme in China is such that 95% of the Lhasa to KTM route is on perfectly sealed tarmac, the dodgy 5% represents the Nepal part of the route. While religion is an interesting way to learn about a people, visiting Mount Kailash is effectively a pilgrimage. I did find it curious that an Israeli had strong sympathies for the Tibetan people when one considers the Palestinian situation. I kept my mouth shut! I wouldn’t be able to do that for a 16 day jeep tour so it was best that I dodge, in any case, I view religion as the middle-man and so Mount Kailash doesn’t mean so much to me. Instead, my inner sense of injustice suggests that inspecting the current situation in Lhasa is more relevant, to me at least.
I will be on the road for the next few days. I have a sense of Kathmandu and so I will move on to get a better sense of the land. I have not been great with the camera. I took a few photos mountain-biking the valley earlier but not having your own laptop makes life difficult in terms of uploading them. I have put some up but this trip is not supposed to be work if you get what I mean. If only I could just borrow a mac!
Talk soon
giller
Monday, October 19, 2009 at 5:22PM | by 
