Happy New Year from Nepal
My madeleine is a jiri, a round orange sticky deep-fried sweet, found at tiny road-side snack shops in Nepal and India. Give me two of these, on a tiny tin plate, and a fragrant milky tea, served in a short, thick glass, and I am swept back to 1989, when I was an wide-eyed college student breakfasting on these at my one-room cottage in the Pradhan's backyard in Kathmandu, not far from Boudanath, the largest Buddhist stupa in the world.
Returning to Kathmandu nearly twenty years later, and staying in Thamel, where I used to wander fascinated by all the colorful trinkets made for the tourist trade has been a lesson in how much things change, and how much they remain the same. Thamel is still Thamel: noisy, crowded, with blaring music and flashing neon signs, hawkers with Tiger Balm and pashmina shawls - "You look, madam. Very good price for you."
Bouda is, of course, still there, too, its all-seeing eyes looking in every direction, its circumambulating pilgrims sweeping around the worn brick paths in great waves every day near sunset.
But much is different, too. When I first came to Kathmandu, cows outnumbered motorbikes on the streets, and the snow mountains, less that a hundred miles from the Valley, were visible on most days. Now, a day when you get a clear view of the mountains is something to celebrate, and the motorcycle hordes are so thick they completely block the intersections into Thamel, forcing pedestrians to weave in and out of traffic as though at a crowded dance party.
The last time I was here was 2004, when Nepal was deep in the grip of the Maoist insurgency. People were afraid to go out at night, checkpoints and tanks barricaded the city, and soldiers with big guns were stationed every hundred meters in Patan, the ancient city across the Bagmati River from Kathmandu, where I lived. Though Nepalis are deservedly famous for being some of the warmest, most cheeful and hospitable people in the world, a notable pall had descended on the city. Everyone seemed depressed, and the festivals that fill the Nepali calendar lacked their previous verve. It was unseemly to celebrate too exuberantly when the country was at war with itself, when people were disappeared, injured, and killed everyday. At that time, long-term expats were grumbling about the end-times for Nepal, predicting the end of the party that had been going on since the 60's. It's delightful to return and see that the crumbling they predicted has not come to pass.
These days, I am happy to report, the old spirit has returned. Though the country still has no stable government and plans to establish a constituent assembly and to ratify a constitution are continually postponed, the country is no longer at war with itself. The King has lost most of his power. Tourism in on an upswing, and the riches tourists bring have extended electricity, telephones, and internet access through much of the Khumbu (Everest) region. In other parts of the country, though, the political instability of much of the last decade has prevented important development work - even basic health and education facilities are lacking or were destroyed during the war - and in some places, the average life expectancy is as low as 35 (horrible to think that some people live their whole lives before I finish my education!)
Thamel is vibrating with energy tonight, ready to launch a big street party to welcome the New Year. Nevermind that Nepal follows a different calendar, and the Nepali new year is in the spring. Nepalis are always up for a good time, especially if it involves singing and dancing. It's good to see all the shops open again, doing a brisk business, as they weren't three years ago. This doesn't mean that Nepal won't face several more challenges before establishing a stable democracy (something it's been trying to do since 1989), but it's good to see things moving in a more positive direction than three years ago.
Moving forward necessarily means letting go of some pieces of the past. This was poignantly displayed yesterday by an Italian woman I met who was just wrapping up seven years as a social worker and social work trainer in Nepal. After moving out of her place, she prepared to spend her final night in Nepal at a friend's house. While moving her bags to her friend's house, she absentmindedly set down her airplane carryon bag -- containing her passport, plane ticket, 600 euros cash, laptop, gifts, and other important items -- on the street. When she returned to collect it ten minutes later, it was gone. All the important travel documents, and a history of seven years in Nepal GONE. As we talked, I recalled the theory that all of our cells turnover every seven years, meaning that the body is completely different every seven years. Now that this woman was headed back to Italy to start a new phase, she was a completely different person.
So as we begin 2008, I wish you all the peace and happiness that comes from laying down old weapons, facing the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and beginning afresh with a big street party, free of the last seven years unneeded baggage.
Happy New Year, and much peace, happiness, well-being and prosperity in 2008!
Returning to Kathmandu nearly twenty years later, and staying in Thamel, where I used to wander fascinated by all the colorful trinkets made for the tourist trade has been a lesson in how much things change, and how much they remain the same. Thamel is still Thamel: noisy, crowded, with blaring music and flashing neon signs, hawkers with Tiger Balm and pashmina shawls - "You look, madam. Very good price for you."
Bouda is, of course, still there, too, its all-seeing eyes looking in every direction, its circumambulating pilgrims sweeping around the worn brick paths in great waves every day near sunset.
But much is different, too. When I first came to Kathmandu, cows outnumbered motorbikes on the streets, and the snow mountains, less that a hundred miles from the Valley, were visible on most days. Now, a day when you get a clear view of the mountains is something to celebrate, and the motorcycle hordes are so thick they completely block the intersections into Thamel, forcing pedestrians to weave in and out of traffic as though at a crowded dance party.
The last time I was here was 2004, when Nepal was deep in the grip of the Maoist insurgency. People were afraid to go out at night, checkpoints and tanks barricaded the city, and soldiers with big guns were stationed every hundred meters in Patan, the ancient city across the Bagmati River from Kathmandu, where I lived. Though Nepalis are deservedly famous for being some of the warmest, most cheeful and hospitable people in the world, a notable pall had descended on the city. Everyone seemed depressed, and the festivals that fill the Nepali calendar lacked their previous verve. It was unseemly to celebrate too exuberantly when the country was at war with itself, when people were disappeared, injured, and killed everyday. At that time, long-term expats were grumbling about the end-times for Nepal, predicting the end of the party that had been going on since the 60's. It's delightful to return and see that the crumbling they predicted has not come to pass.
These days, I am happy to report, the old spirit has returned. Though the country still has no stable government and plans to establish a constituent assembly and to ratify a constitution are continually postponed, the country is no longer at war with itself. The King has lost most of his power. Tourism in on an upswing, and the riches tourists bring have extended electricity, telephones, and internet access through much of the Khumbu (Everest) region. In other parts of the country, though, the political instability of much of the last decade has prevented important development work - even basic health and education facilities are lacking or were destroyed during the war - and in some places, the average life expectancy is as low as 35 (horrible to think that some people live their whole lives before I finish my education!)
Thamel is vibrating with energy tonight, ready to launch a big street party to welcome the New Year. Nevermind that Nepal follows a different calendar, and the Nepali new year is in the spring. Nepalis are always up for a good time, especially if it involves singing and dancing. It's good to see all the shops open again, doing a brisk business, as they weren't three years ago. This doesn't mean that Nepal won't face several more challenges before establishing a stable democracy (something it's been trying to do since 1989), but it's good to see things moving in a more positive direction than three years ago.
Moving forward necessarily means letting go of some pieces of the past. This was poignantly displayed yesterday by an Italian woman I met who was just wrapping up seven years as a social worker and social work trainer in Nepal. After moving out of her place, she prepared to spend her final night in Nepal at a friend's house. While moving her bags to her friend's house, she absentmindedly set down her airplane carryon bag -- containing her passport, plane ticket, 600 euros cash, laptop, gifts, and other important items -- on the street. When she returned to collect it ten minutes later, it was gone. All the important travel documents, and a history of seven years in Nepal GONE. As we talked, I recalled the theory that all of our cells turnover every seven years, meaning that the body is completely different every seven years. Now that this woman was headed back to Italy to start a new phase, she was a completely different person.
So as we begin 2008, I wish you all the peace and happiness that comes from laying down old weapons, facing the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and beginning afresh with a big street party, free of the last seven years unneeded baggage.
Happy New Year, and much peace, happiness, well-being and prosperity in 2008!
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Eric