Oct 21st, 2007
Stupa Doupa Kathmandupa
Kathmandu has swallowed up many of the little towns lying around it, so it takes up much of the sprawling basin that it lies in – which used to be a lake (so I hope it doesn’t rain). We went to a couple of these other towns, or Squares which they’ve now become. Kathmandu Durbar Square and Patan Durbar Square. Basically, they’re an excuse for a temple or two. The place is filled with them of various sizes, shapes and styles, some in need of a little renovation, others beautifully white-washed with their gods freshly painted. The streets are so busy with all-sorts that it’s almost like the town grew up first and the temples were placed wherever there was any space left. They sprout up on street corners, amongst markets, in people’s doorways. Many, as well as used for praying in, are used as shops or to dry laundry on in the sun.
The strangest thing in Kathmandu (if not the whole of Nepal) has been seeing where the Kumari Devi lives, their ‘real living Goddess’. They believe that a little girl is a reincarnation of a goddess. They shield her away from the whole world and bring her out on special occasions to worship her. She lives (read: is imprisoned) in a modest intricately carved house/temple with small windows that open on to an inner courtyard (albeit it with her family). Once a year she is paraded around the streets of Durbar Square in front of thousands of worshippers. The ritual of choosing the goddess is frightening, it consists of showing selected 4 to 7 year olds scary sights in a darkened room (eg buffalo heads, demon- like masked dancers, terrifying noises). The little girl who doesn’t cry at any of this is ‘the chosen one’. The Kumari’s role comes to an end when she starts her period, at which point she changes back to a regular mortal. It’s then considered unlucky to marry an ex-Kumari. How much of this is behind the scenes marketing and what is real I’m unsure… the most recent ex-Kumari published an autobiography in which she plays down many of the rituals and expresses how good a life she has had. It feels all a bit odd to me and seriously sad, though she does get paid a heck of a dowry.
So, we were staying back in Thamel, the tourist and tout heaven area of Kathmandu. Having been here before our trek we had a few days to kill before our flight out of Nepal, felt the need to get out and took ourselves to Boudha (pronounced Bow-dah).
What a difference. It’s only a ten minute taxi ride from central Kathmandu yet Boudha was chilled out and spiritual. It has the largest concentration of Buddhists outside of Tibet. It’s a small area with several monasteries, but with its focus upon ‘one of the largest Stupas in the world’ (everything in the Lonely Planet is ‘one of the best/biggest/largest/ lah lah lah). We stayed in the town’s largest working monastery which had a pretty little garden where you could take breakfast in their vegetarian restaurant. We booked in for two days and spent most of that time getting swept up in the mass of people swirling clock-wise around the stupa. It’s mesmerizing and drops you in a little world all of your own. The sun blazes down on the white stupa, so bright it’s blinding (I had to lead blinded Guy round once when he forgot to bring his sunglasses). The prayer flags flutter silently in the wind. And people (mainly older ones) literally caterpillar their way along the ground, doing yogic prostrations along the floor, hands together to pray, lay down flat on the floor, head touches the ground, pray, stand up, pray again, walk about 5 steps further and repeat it all over again. I tried this once in the hotel room but got a headache after two prostrations. So we are told by a monk in a café, they do this 1000 times, four times a day. So that’s why they have good arm muscles??! I should practice more often.
It’s such a wonderful place it’s hard not to get caught up in it all. We had withdrawal symptoms a couple of times and had to make our way down the alleyway from the monastery-cum-hotel to the Stupa just so we could walk around it a few times and get our swirly fill. Even once before breakfast…
It’s a place where I wanted to try and figure Buddhism out. And whilst it certainly has me on daily moral grounds, like be-nice-to-your-neighbour type lines, we were a bit flummoxed when we saw a Buddhist monk buying prayer beads made from elephant tusk. Isn’t that internationally illegal we asked? He didn’t seem to care. And I’d like to think he was only a part-time monk as I still hope it’s the best ‘religion’.
Daily life in India is unpredictable to say the least. Just getting a taxi is… umm… taxing. After we had finally booked our taxi (using one of the hotel’s Buddhist contacts who wasn’t celebrating Disain, plus who they could finally get hold of) he cancelled on us with ten minutes to go. So we had to cart our stuff around the stupa (for the last time, which we both secretly enjoyed) to find our own taxi. After asking 5 different taxis we got a respectable price.
Following an hour delay at the airport, it was Up Up and Away back to India. Part excited, part nervous of returning to the more chaotic side of life.