Nepal - Back to Thamel

 

Yesterday I made the transition from Ananda back to the city. I was ready to go, though I know I’ll miss the yoga schedule. Also, surprisingly, I got really emotional when I said goodbye to the three other students there (the German ladies came back). I almost started crying. It was like the end of camp, where you’ve just made a bunch of new friends, learned something new about yourself, then get sad to say goodbye to it at the end.

But. The transition was good, and while I had been worried all week about what I would do when I was done at the yoga center, it all fell into place starting off with the taxi driver who didn’t try to rip me off and knew exactly where I was going. Score. Then my hotel booked me in for a tour to see the temples around the city for a good price. Score again. Then I sat for a while online on the rooftop of my hotel which was gorgeous with its bright potted flowers and prayer flags and strong wi-fi. Then on my way back to my room, found a Nepal Lonely Planet in the book exchange. Major score, since we have no travel guide. 

I booked in some yoga classes and got namaste’d by two English trekkers staying at the hotel at the yoga center. They kept me company during lunch. Then I bought cookies that were delightfully wrapped in somebody’s re-purposed homework.  

Nobody else turned up for the afternoon yoga class I had booked, so it turned out to be a one-on-one session which was intense, but also very nice. The yoga teacher asked at the beginning if I had any trouble spots then gave me a bunch of poses that help with that area. We had a good chat and I’ll be seeing him most mornings I spend in Thamel, I think.  

After yoga, I wandered around the neighborhood a bit, found a new alleyway and walked into a legit-looking spa and got an ayurvedic massage. Well, why not? It’s a good day. And it was a good massage, other than two strange massage firsts. For one, she massaged my stomach. That was a bit strange, but I’m hoping it’s something good for my body? And the second, she asked if I wanted my boobs massaged. I was so surprised, I didn’t think boob massage was a thing! I kindly declined.  

Next was dinner, and after walking past it the first time, I managed to find a highly-recommended vegetarian restaurant which was already pretty full. A nice French girl let me crash her table, which at first I declined but she insisted that if I hadn’t eaten there before I had to try it, it was delicious. So I was befriended by this kind person, her boyfriend and their German friends they’re traveling with. There’s quite a congenial atmosphere here in Thamel, people are really open and friendly, it’s so nice. It’s a little weird to be traveling without Marcus, but at least day one outside of the insulated world of the yoga center went well. 

Day two also went well. I started the morning with another yoga class then set off for a temple sightseeing trip. Although the bus was over an hour late, I stayed zen. Going with the flow. The yoga hasn’t worn off just yet. J When the bus did came, I discovered I was the only westerner on a bus of Indian tourists. It was neither here nor there, they weren’t overly friendly or unfriendly. I chatted with a few of them (toward the end of the day one guy asked to have his picture with me—this still happens at 30) and that was nice. I chatted more with the guide, who was less of a guide (he didn’t really provide much information) and more of a coordinator and sheep herder letting people know what time they had to be back on the bus. But after addressing them in Hindi, he would walk with me to the site and let me know where to meet him afterward. He also took care of me at lunchtime and personally made sure I was attended, then sat with me and we chatted over lunch on metal trays and shared our chapatti and naan.  

The first temple we stopped at was Pashupatinath, a famous pilgrimage site for Hindus. There are a gajillion temples in the complex with even more images of Shiva. I couldn’t go into the temple because I’m not Hindu and the entrance fee was about $10. Since we were only there for an hour, I forewent the fee and wandered around the outside kindly fending off attempts to be my temple guide, read my horoscope, sell me jewelry, fruit and other knick knacks, etc. There was a cremation going on and I got near enough to walk in the smoke. I couldn’t help but think, “I’m breathing in smoke from a human body. I have dead body ash in my nose and throat.” Wandering away from that area as quickly as possible seemed like a good idea. It took a while to get that out of my throat.

There was a sweets shop nearby so I sought refuge inside, trying some “cheese” balls that looked white, squishy and interesting. Turns out they’re grainy, spongy and soaked in thick sugar syrup. Oy! In fact not as tasty as I thought. I realized too late that two of the three treats I bought were made of the same white “cheese”. I found out the third was basically a doughnut hole steeped in the same sugar syrup. Like a glazed doughnut, except that the “glaze” goes through the entire doughnut. A bit too much, even for me with my renowned sweet tooth. 

After Pashupatinath, we went to Boudanath stupa which is a popular pilgrimage site and the center of faith for Buddhists. The stupa is believed to have been rebuilt many times during its existence, which is estimated to have been in the fifth century. The story behind the stupa goes a little something like this. During Lichhavi King Man Dev’s reign back in the fifth century, the country was experiencing a serious drought and social fallout. The king conferred with his fortunetellers on what to do to rectify the situation and they told him that a perfect man would have to be sacrificed. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the king realized that only he and his son met the description and he decided to sacrifice himself. He told his son that a ghost in white was going to appear at a certain place and time and that the ghost should be cut into two to end the drought. The prince did as his father asked and was destroyed when he realized it was his father. The goddess Vajrayogini told the prince in a dream that to atone for his sin, he would have to let a white pigeon fly and wherever the bird landed, a great stupa should be built. Pretty dramatic. 

 

 Currently it’s the center of worship for the Tibetan community here in Nepal. There’s only one entrance to the Stupa square which seals it off quite nicely other than the masses of souvenir stores surrounding it. Even with the shopping activities on the side, the square felt awfully peaceful. The fact that the stupa is a solid blanket of white probably assists in this, but it wasn’t massively crowded and I walked in peace around the stupa in clock-wise fashion with monks and other community worshippers. It had a really nice feeling to it and I could imagine spending a few happy hours wandering around inside, having a cup of tea on a balcony overlooking the stupa and feeling content. 

The next stop on our adventure was the Budhanilkantha temple which isn’t big for the westerners so wasn’t really on my radar. It was a square pool-type temple with a giant statue of Vishnu laying down in the pool. Somewhat underwhelming, but I suppose it would be after a few UNESCO heritage sites. After this was lunch break, then on to Swayambunath, the monkey temple (there are monkeys all over at the temple). This stupa is also a revered Buddhist pilgrimage site and is said to pre-date Buddha himself. Prayer flags were everywhere, including on the ground and stuck up in trees in strangled clumps.

Well, how long do prayer flags stay up? And what do they do with the remains afterward? Clearly I should look this up. While wandering around this stupa, I garnered a follower, a nearly-hipster-Nepali guy who looked like he was in college and he took it upon himself to tell me that a statue I was looking at was Vishnu, that the temple was a major religious site, that he was Hindu but he respected Buddhism. He asked my religion and I somewhat partook in the conversation. Then I walked away, and he followed me. And followed me. I tried to be polite and say I was going to walk around when he said he was going (he thought I was going, too) and he continued to follow me. When I finally looked at him with a smile and said, “You’re following me,” he seemed slightly hurt and left. But when I’m alone, this seems to be what happens, dudes come up to me and try to guide me or something. I must look like a lost puppy. But for the first time, I decided to point out exactly what was happening and at least this first time, it’s proven to be an effective strategy.

It was a nice day of spending time amongst temples and strangers, though I was happy to get back to my hotel for buff momos (they just don’t get old) and quiet time. Tomorrow I’m off for an eight-hour bus ride to Pokhara, the second most-visited tourist city in Nepal. It’s right on a lake with mountains on the other side and it’s meant to be beautiful. I’m checking myself into another three days of yoga, so we’ll see how much sightseeing gets mixed in.