Nepal Photos

UPDATED: Photos from Nepal are online here. Click the slideshow link at the top right, or just view them individually.

Trapped

Okay, I am so exaggerating. But I do like the attention-grabbing sound of that.

Yesterday, traffic was back to normal. Buses and delivery trucks were all back on the roads, kicking up dust and spewing diesel exhaust.

But "normal" is a relative term. We drove past a gas station where the gate was padlocked shut and under police guard. The line of vehicles waiting for gas stretched for almost a mile and was sometimes 2 and 3 cars wide.

Severe gas shortages, rising bus fares and on-again off-again valley-wide transportation strikes... Something has got to boil over here soon.

Now today another general strike has been called to protest the fare increase. All vehicles are to remain off the roads, meaning that schools, offices and most businesses once again will not be opening. Anyone attempting to drive will find angry stone-throwing mobs blocking roads with piles of burning tires.

Why is this not being covered by the U.S. news media?

But anyway, back to the topic... I'm stuck here at my hotel since getting a taxi, car or any other type of vehicle today is out of the question. The center of town is about a three and a half mile walk. Which I did consider. But I've yet to see a street sign here and have no idea if I could even find my way there - and back.

So I walked back over to the village of Boudha. There were lots more Tibetan monks around than last time, many of them quite young. I visited a couple monasteries (called "gompas") and talked with a few of the kids, who were really quite shy - I think maybe due to the language difficulty.

During a sudden downpour, one older (and very cute) monk and I shared a corner alcove to stay dry. He invited me to come see his monastery.

In my experience with monks, this usually means mischief is afoot.

And it was (but no sexual advances this time). When he had me light butter lamps and then we posed together for a lame photo, I knew it was only a matter of minutes before he'd be asking for money. Luckily, an elderly Tibet gentleman was watching all of this and came up to me quietly and said, "Don't give money for him. Him cheating!"

I beat him to the punch by putting 50 rupees in the temple donation box, so that when he did ask a few minutes later ("So I can go home to Lhasa..."), I already gave, and was off the hook.

I really like this little village and imagine that if I were an exiled Tibetan, I wouldn't mind at all living there.

Nepal is a very multi-sensory place. The people have a humble warmth. Their greeting is namaste ("I see god in you").

I've posted quite a few photos from the past few days. I hope you enjoy seeing them, but I'm sorry that you're not going to smell the juniper and sandalwood burning, the omnipresent scent of human body odor, or the occasional overwhelming stench of rotting garbage. You won't hear the prayer flags flapping in the wind, the bells that 'ping' at the hundreds of shrines in the Old City. Or the children's' laughter. Which, in spite of the difficulties these people are facing, seems to be everywhere.

Fire and Ice

1. Ice

Buddha Air Flight 101 is an hour-long sightseeing flight northeast from Kathmandu to the highest peaks of the Himalayas, and back again. It is also possibly the world's most breathtaking airplane ride.

I didn't have high hopes for seeing much of anything this morning. A low layer of thick grey clouds started forming about 30 minutes before our flight. But once we got above 10,000 feet, jagged peaks began appearing in the distance, bursting through the cloud cover.

We headed further northeast and up even higher. "Now you see Everest on the left," the flight attendant announced. There is no charge for the flight if you fail to see Everest, so they do make a very clear point of letting you know that you're seeing it.

The pilot took us closer as one by one, each passenger was invited up to the cockpit for a better view. The clouds suddenly dissipated as it was my turn to go up front. The plane banked to the left and a massive wall of snow and ice appeared directly in front of us, with all 29,029 feet of Mt. Everest at the center.

Coming here at the start of the monsoon season, I expected to be trudging around in torrential downpours every day... and never thought I would get even a glimpse of a mountain, let alone the spectacular view I had this morning. I am so grateful for this experience. Nepal has been so much more than I ever imagined or expected.


2. Fire

"I've never seen anything like that before," was pretty much all I could manage to say to my taxi driver after spending about an hour at Pashupatinath Temple in Kathmandu.

On the banks of the Bagmati River, it is the most important Hindu site in Nepal. In addition to a meandering group of Hindu temples, a row of stone cremation ghats line one side of the river. Today they were being used in full force. On the first three platforms, bodies were burning in various stages of... Let's just say one was quite rare, one was medium and one was very, very well-done.

The smoke billowed up, but the bodies are burnt with so much fragrant wood and herbs that the smell is almost... almost not bad.

Further up the river another cremation had just begun. A woman's body wrapped in colorful fabrics was placed on thick slabs of wood. Dried bundles of sage grass were lit at each corner of the ghat. One by one, four balding middle-aged men stepped onto the platform, removed their shirts and symbolically tossed them into the river, where they were quickly swept away with the current

They circled the body three times, each of them touching the woman's feet. Then the first man (was he her husband?) was given a flaming wooden torch, which he matter-of-factly brought down onto the woman's head.

They stepped off the ghat, more wood was gathered, people came and went, four monkeys scampered up and down the temple steps. And, for the rest of us, life went on.

Far Away

Things were not looking good.

Suraj, the driver from my hotel was waiting for me outside the arrivals terminal at Kathmandu airport.

"Unfortunately we can not go to the hotel just now. They're begun throwing rocks at the cars."

"They" are crowds of students protesting a recent 50% increase in bus fares. A transportation strike has been in effect for about a week, with only private vehicles allowed on the roads. This, along with radical Maoist rebels gaining more political control of the government, has thrown the already troubled country of Nepal - one of the world's poorest - into a state of near anarchy.

No one was leaving the airport except a string of white UN Peacekeeping SUVs.

My first thought was, "Can I make it onto the return flight to Bangkok today?"

My second thought was... stay.

(Actually, my second thought was, "please god don't ever make me have to fly somewhere on Yeti Airlines." Is there also a Saskwatch Airlines somewhere?)

"We must wait here for some time because right now it's not safe. It's just bad luck, I'm afraid," Suraj said. "Would you like some tea?"

The various hotel van drivers, rickshaw drivers, their cousins, uncles and friends were all on cellphones, communicating amongst each other which roads might and might not be safe. After about an hour it was determined that we would attempt the drive to the hotel, and if things... turned bad... we would turn around and return.

We made the short drive to the hotel without incident. Perhaps the homemade 'TOURISTS ONLY' sign in the van window protected us.

I didn't travel to the other side of the world to sit in a hotel room, so later that afternoon I walked to the nearby village of Boudha, home to one of the world's largest Tibetan exile communities. Along the muddy dirt paths, children were riding bikes, mothers in traditional saris were walking with babies, shopkeepers were selling fresh vegetables and handmade metalworks.

In the center of Boudha is the Boudhanath Stupa, one of the largest in the world and one of Nepal's most important Buddhist sites. Every afternoon beginning around 5:00, the local villagers, many in traditional Tibetan dress, and red-robed monks from the areas' several monasteries begin circumambulating the stupa.

Eventually hundreds of people are walking clockwise again and again around the giant monument: chanting, spinning prayer wheels, or just chatting with friends and neighbors. It's a ritual that is repeated nightly and it's powerful, magical and also quite charming.

Thunderclouds rolled in and I walked away from the crowds and back towards the hotel.

"I am so far away right now," I thought. And I knew I made the right decision to stay in Nepal.

Addiction

My name is John and I'm a mango-holic.

I admit it. I am powerless over mangos.

I'm not talking about those grapefruit sized red-green pulpy-tangy Mexican mangos we get in California. It's Thai mangos that have brought me to the point of surrender.

Did you know there are over 15 varieties of Thai mango? Neither did I, and quite honestly I don't especially care... as long as I can have some and then have some MORE.

Cocaine? Who needs it? Sweeter than candy and so juicy they almost melt in your mouth, these little yellow devils are the food of the gods.

Some of you more faithful readers may recall my recent love affair with Macanese egg tarts. Well forget it. We're through.

I admit that mangos have made my life unmangeable.

After over 16 hours on a plane (and 3 more inside the hellhole known as Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX), I've gotten my fix. I am back in Bangkok, home to the world's truly perfect food - mango with sticky rice, or khao niaow mamuang - slices of sweet ripe mango over warm, chewy, slightly salty rice, and topped with sweet coconut milk and crispy mung beans.

A little family-run shop called Khao Niaow Korpanich on Tanao Road in Bangkok has been perfecting this Thai dessert for over 75 years. They're designed primarily for takeout, but they understand us mango-holics: if they see you've got that crazed must-have-mango-now look in your eye, they'll clear off a bench and let you eat it right there.

Weird Sign of the Day

Okay, I realize it's not especially weird... but are all those letters really necessary???