A short visit to Nepal, May 22-24, 1998 We lined up at the Chinese customs to leave Tibet on the morning of May 22, 1998. Our Tibetan driver as well as our Tibetan guide, Anna, were allowed to take us through the 9 km.of no-man's land to the Friendship Bridge. We carried our luggage and walked across the bridge into the Kingdom of Nepal, where we were met by our new Nepalese guide, Sanjay, and a different bus and driver. We continued driving the Nepalese portion of the same long, very steep canyon. The road was still spectacular, narrow, one-lane, dirt and scary, with rock slides and waterfalls everywhere. By this time, we were much lower in altitude, the weather was warm and the land was green. Mountains were terraced and planted in rice and corn. We saw what looked like solar panels set up in many yards: large, flat rectangles propped up, angled toward the sun. It was rice paper in the making. Black clumps on a cliff were wild bee hives. We passed through Nepalese villages which looked very much like India. Women in saris, people bathing, a man shampooing his hair, kids being showered in spigots by the road. Sanjay said the richest people in Nepal and most of the businessmen are of Indian descent. The border between Nepal and India is open, people can move freely back and forth without papers. Sanjay says there is 32% literacy in Nepal. The Nepalese paper says 42% of Nepal residents are under the poverty line, which is a yearly income of only $65 U.S. In 1987, Norm and I visited parts of India, then flew to Nepal, visiting Kathmandu, and taking a bus to Pokhara. At that time, I was especially impressed by the poverty in Nepal. This time, with Tibet's inhospitable climate and poverty fresh in mind, Nepal seems bountiful and prosperous. At last, we arrived at a "hill station" hotel and were treated like privileged British in the old days. I was called "madame," the cooks wore chef's hats. Rooms were tasteful, individual buildings with nice bathrooms, hot water, bubble-bath provided, and views of beautiful, green, terraced valleys and mountains. We hiked up behind the hotel to a ridge for a great view in all directions. Meals were fabulous curries. Quite a step up from Tibetan rural facilities. On our way to Kathmandu the next day, we stopped to walk around an old medieval city, a picturesque place with carved wooden windows, winding narrow brick surfaced streets and alleys. It was the height of the wheat harvest so people spread wheat on the streets for traffic to run over and thresh, while others flailed wheat against tilted rocks. Sheaves were stacked everywhere. Not restricted to one planting like the Tibetans, the Nepalese plant rice next in the same fields. Clean, uniformed kids were hustling off to school carrying satchels. To make the most of our extra full day in Kathmandu, we hired a guide and car with another couple from our group and saw some terrific sights. The spectacular hit of the day was visiting the Kali Temple to see the animal sacrifices. This is a Hindu temple (most Nepalese are Hindus, with a minority of Buddhists) where twice a week (Tuesday and Saturday), the faithful come to have animals killed and offer up the act and the blood to Kali. Three queues stretched up the hill above the temple, as people patiently waited their turns, holding live chickens and leading goats on ropes. Our guide said that sometimes ducks are sacrificed and in October, for a special occasion, water buffalo. All along the walking route to the temple were sellers with wares spread on the ground. One could buy a chicken or goat right there. Or, if one did not wish to kill an animal, buy fruits and vegetables to offer to the Goddess. When people reached the temple area, they removed all leather goods from their bodies, such as belts and shoes, and paid a guy to keep it for them. Finally, inside low walls surrounding the sacred area, people sprinkled vermillion powder, tossed flowers, fruits and vegetables into a small pit and tried to touch their foreheads to the general area of the pit (this was tough since it was crowded and low). The ones with animals handed them over to professional killers who slit the animals throats, cut off the heads, and handed the bodies back to the owners. Chickens were usually stuffed into a plastic bag, but the goat people had to heft the goats up by their feet. We had an excellent view standing on rocks above the scene because everything took place in the open air. There was blood all over the paved floor, and when we left our viewing perch and walked right through the killing area, my bare feet in sandals gathered enough good specks and smells that dogs rushed over to lick my feet for the rest of the day. After the killing, people can take their animal over to a barbecue area and have a picnic! So, the procedure is both spiritual and practical. One can bring the whole family and spend the day in a park like setting, get somebody to kill your animal, get points with the Goddess, and cook the meat besides. We visited areas in Kathmandu where "Little Buddha" was filmed. One place was a giant stupa with a white, wide, rounded bottom, and the characteristic, large Nepalese painted "eyes." Nepalese believe that nothing escapes the all-seeing eyes of the God. These eyes were even painted on the elevator doors of the hotel. Across the street from the stupa, we climbed three floors to a roof terrace restaurant for lunch. It provided a great view of the city and the stupa, plus we had a lunch of real pizza, our first western food in more than a month. There was thunder but the rain held off until after lunch, then really poured. It poured on our way to the Pashupat I temple. Like Varanasi, India, it is a place for cremations set by a river. When we got there, it was still pouring, and we saw the rain putting out the fire of the only person being cremated, despite the efforts of the relatives to keep it going. Monkeys ran around everywhere. We waited under an overhang to see if the rain would stop and it did lessen. A dead young woman was carried by in the litter, her face just one foot from mine (we were in a narrow spot) and we watched them place her on a prepared pile of wood, then pile more wood on top of her body. The guide said there are seven layers of wood in all and that it takes 3-4 hrs. to burn a body. This seems awfully fast to me and I questioned the time, but he claimed they put butter underneath to hurry it up. We gave up on the rainy cremations. Last, we went to the main square in Kathmandu to see the girl goddess, Kumara. I remembered lamenting the practice of choosing a young girl for this job on our previous trip. Our guide called to her and she came to the window. Except for time off from noon to 3 p.m., she must come to the window to be viewed by whomever calls. Her family lives with her in this small place. She is allowed out only nine times a year, for special festivals, until her first menstruation, when they get a new goddess. The girl goddess is chosen when she is three to five years old. She must have no birthmarks, and she must survive a performance designed to terrify her. She must stay inside the temple alone in the dark with drums banging while animals are killed in front of her. The girl who doesn't cry and scream after all this is "chosen." We asked what happens to these girls later in life. They get a small stipend, but a happy life is unlikely. It is believed that men who marry goddess Kumaras will die. In the square are some very smelly goats tied up next to a building. These are holy goats (no, NOT holy ghosts). The way a goat gets holy (and must therefore never be killed) is a person takes the goat to the Kali Temple, but then chooses not to kill it. The smellier a goat is, the better, because this is supposed to help keep evil spirits away. One of these goats was clearly mentally ill. It twitched and jerked, bent its head sideways and stuck out his tongue over and over. The Nepalese, including our guide, seemed to think this was really funny, that the goat was choosing to act up, showing off for peoples cameras. It ain't easy being a Kumara or a holy goat. Interesting city. Janis Ringuette