Chapter 27: Nepalicious

Who knew Nepal would be so nice? Perhaps Max did, but I went with no expectations and was delightfully surprised. Our local guide, PG, said Nepal people are "always smiley" and it's true. It is officially a Hindu country (80% of the population), but all the visible signs of religiosity in the streets seem to be Buddhist (15% of the population) and Kathmandu is just crawling with Buddhist monks in their yellow and maroon robes. In fact, coming on the plane to Nepal I sat next to a frickin' Buddhist monk, who said to me, with clear delight and reverence, "Ah, little mosquito on the plane" and then gently wafted the mosquito in his palm away from him into the air, just as Max surged half way out of his seat to vigorously smash one against the cabin wall.

I guess it's the Buddist reverence for all things living, though I did note that the Buddhist monk tucked into his chicken curry with real gusto. There were also a couple of Buddhist monks sitting comfortably in first class (as well as vast numbers in the 5-star Hyatt that we were staying at. Still, they gave good vibe, which I could really feel, flowing out from them all.

Anyway, in Nepal Hinduism and Buddhism have coexisted harmoniously for thousands of years, helped perhaps by Hindus' belief that Buddha was an incarnation of one of their 300 million gods. 'Struth! That's the number of gods, apparently, in Hinduism, although there are
three main ones: Brahma (creation), Vishnu (protection) and Shiva (destruction). However, they apparently have different incarnations and names, so it's all very confusing and despite my repeated questions to PG, I was never really able to get it straight. Ganesh, the elephant god with the fat belly is the god of prosperity.

Personally, I think it's kind of surprising that the two religions get on so well in Nepal beause Hinduism is really just such an elaborate fantasy, as Max so aptly put it, while Buddhism makes just such intellectual and spiritual sense, as a philosophy and a way of life, even though
Buddhism as practiced in Nepal has a lot of the stuff which I just can't quite get my head around (e.g. praying to statues, offerings of fruit, etc to icons, etc, etc), belief that only sandalwood incense can take a message to "The Lord Buddha".

Still, there are more differences than similarities between the two religions, and differences are really quite fundamental. Here's one: the Hindus practice ghastly animal blood sacrifice to the goddess Kali. We went to witness it. I think it's the first time I've ever seen an animal (other than mosquitoes of course) actually die before my eyes. It was pretty ruthless; they bent the goat's head backwards to expose the throat, and then sawed through it, directing the spurting scarlet arterial blood to spray all over the statue of Kali. It was more than a little disturbing,
because the goat's mouth continued to move soundlessly for some 30 seconds after it's head had been physically removed from the body. Also, I was right in it's slightline and I could swear firstly, that it was looking directly at me, and secondly, that I could see the life ebb out of its eyes. Still, I suppose it's death was no worse than that which earlier befell my filet mignon that I tucked into later that evening, but I still can't help but feel that the very idea of blood sacrifice is barbaric.

Did you know that there is a Hindu parallel to the Dali Lama? She's Kumari, the living goddess, and she lives in a gorgeous sandalwood palace in Durbar Square in old Kathmandu. She is selected at the age of 3 or 4 from a number of girls in some rite of passage, and thereafter venerated by Hindus, even the one billion plus of them in India, as a living goddess. Even the
King of Nepal is (constitutionally or traditionally, I was never sure which) obliged to consult her for advice. She gets carried everywhere on a palanquin, but her grand lifestyle is only temporary. First menstruation, and she's out, back to the fields. For, as always in these poor countries, it's the women who get the really back-breaking work. For the terraced plots that scale the steep mountain sides are too awkward and too small for animal or mechanical power to be practical, even if it was affordable. So everywhere we would see women - red saries like poppies against the green landscape - using scythes to cut the golden wheat harvest and then to prepare the earth for the maize planting by turning the sod over by hand with a pick ax, clod by clod. (There are three crops per year in the fertile earth, wheat now, then maize, then rice, after the rains).

But poor Kumari! What a mind-fuck it must be to believe you're a living goddess and to be venerated by even the King and carried everywhere on a palanquin (for she is not allowed to walk), and then all of a sudden to be chucked out to hoe the fields like all the other peasant women. As if menstruation wasn't bad enough! However, PG told me that the government recently decided to give the families of these former "living goddesses" some ongoing financial assistance, and some education for the former goddess herself.

Central Kathmandu, old Kathmandu is a UNESCO world heritage site and quite staggeringly beautiful, with beautifully carved sandalwood palaces and temples, windy cobbled streets and hidden squares. And as a complete contrast, country-side walks showed a peaceful way of life that hasn't changed in hundreds of years. Can't describe it; you'll have to wait for the photos, of which Max took a great many.

And the highlight of our trip to Nepal: Buddha Air flight 102 to Everest! The Himalayas were just awesome: serene, no trace of man evident on their cold flanks, plumes of ice blowing off their peaks in the bright sunshine. Seried ranks of mountains the colour of smoke, night, snow, and all shades of blue. The occassional bright green glacial lake, in the rocky valleys deep between the mountains, probably never touched by man. The peak of Everest was wrapped in a
little wispy veil of cloud, as though the mountain were shy, not wanting to reveal her face. A big, big, big high.