Adjusting from one foreign culture to another has taken me a few days. I made it to Nepal on New Year's Eve Eve, and because I woke up for my flight from China at 3am Kathmandu time it was a wasted day. The ride was a holiday, though. I stayed near the handful of Nepalis returning home from Chengdu via Lhasa, and we celebrated with Yanjing beer as we crossed the Himalayas, returning to their homeland. The Tibet side of the mountain rim was cloudless, leaving the northern view of Everest clear and unmistakable. The aircraft followed a long crescent clockwise around the mountain group, through a reasonable pass lying to its west.
Nepal was an ocean of clouds, and soon we were decending into the foggy Kathmandu valley.
Michael grabbed me from the airport on his motorcycle. The change in face of the streets struck me immediately. Kathmandu has so many beautifully carved window facades and authentic clothing. It's also quite a bit dustier than the Chinese towns I'm used to. And the Chinese have this love affair going with decorating the outsides of buildings with bathroom tile. I met brother Chris soon enough. He looks good. I've missed those two kids, possibly most of all, since leaving New Orleans in August.
New Years--what can one say? It felt like Mardi Gras here, no less because of the wall to wall throngs of jumping and dancing Nepalis in the tourist-by-day bar-by-night district of town. I get the feeling "Open Container Law" wouldn't translate well into Nepali, and it felt natural to relax again about having a good time in 'da town. The new year turned over for us, however, in a typical Nepali bar, with men dancing to traditional music. Chris and I drank whisky and noted the anticlimax.
Later we found ourselves at what Chris described as a "Space Bar," both out of place and anachronistic. I felt dissociated again, as I had just two nights before, where in Chengdu I inadvertently invited myself to a banquet hotpot dinner in honor of a gallery opening. I enjoyed the company of the university and professional painters of Chengdu eating swan stomach and watching a private concert of Sichuanese folk dances, and later relaxed in the restuarant owner's wife's studio. She paints "man woman city scenes," heavy on the lavendar. Unnotable canvases but for the certain details they lacked: her husband's face was pale and undefined; the skyline of Chengdu imprecise and redundant.
A couple of nights after the new year we went to a classical Hindi (more formal than the Nepali folk music) conert in honor of the full moon. The tabla, sitar, and harmonium masters played in Pashpati, a Lord Shivatemple complex draped in moon shadows and hidden meaning.
Our cousin arrived on Thursday, and we've already been quite busy seeing a few mainstream visitor places. A museum in they royal Patan square provided some great remediation to Hindu gods and Buddhist images. We rambled about the Swayambu stupa, meaning "self-arising," and teeming with monkeys. William has also been a nice addition to our group. His interest in English etymology and European mythology counterpoints nicely with Mike's knowledge of local religious symbolism and language.
He also knows how to relax and have a good time.
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Nepal is country rich in culture and tradition. It's interesting that they have cultures that are contrasts of each other. For instance, Nepal has a large peaceful Buddhist population. Yet they also produced the Gurkhas, the finest warriors in the world. Quite interesting, right?
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