Clueless in Kathmandu

I arrived in Kathmandu yesterday in the early afternoon. After missing the takeoff in Bangkok (sound asleep as usual :-)
I woke up an hour into the flight with lots of butterflies in my stomach. Neverless, the mountain gods were merciless. I did not get to see anything other than clouds. White puffy ones, like a sea of voodoos.

Getting the visa was a simple formality and the luggage arrived very fast. Then out into the heat! The monsoon season is not yet over. Which also means that the tourist season has not yet started. Indeed, there were less foreigners on the plane than Nepalese people.
Once I got to my room I sorted out my stuff, took a shower and crashed onto the bed. Forget about exploration. I slept until about 4 am. Then I started studying the maps again and reading a bit more until about 6 am when I got ready to go out.

I have several addresses for places to eat in the neighborhood and so I head that way, not before stopping at an ATM to get some local currency.
In the early morning hours the streets are empty and quiet. There's little activity - a few taxis and rickshaws whose drivers all compete for taking you somewhere. No, thank you, I'm here to walk!

I go on the deck of one restaurant for my breakfast. The tables are nicely set overlooking the street. There are many flower pots and plants around and some birds. I am the preferred customer. I am the only one.
It's not yet tourist season, I'm being told. And, yes, it's going to rain.
I enjoy my coffee and toast and croissant and fresh pineapple juice for less than 3CADs. It's luxury, just being there and enjoying these peaceful moments.

When I finally start my exploration I just follow my gut feeling. The map and guide book are in the pack, I don't want to worry about that now. I have an idea where I am and where I want to get. The rest is part of the adventure.
It is almost 7am and the streets are starting to "wake up" to life. The store owners are busy brooming the street in front of their shops, people are busy going to work I assume. Children are going to school wearing their neat uniforms. Traffic is picking up - which means that you have to share the narrow streets with cyclists, cars and rickshaws. Both ways. Sometimes as a pedestrian you have to step on the steps of a shop to avoid being hit by something or somebody. There are no priority rules, so it's all ad-hoc.
In the little squares there is a lot more happening. That's where the vegetable and fresh fruit markets take place. The vendors line up their merchandise - all organic stuff - in little heaps or in large baskets. Eggplants and potatoes and tomatoes and cucumbers and garlic and mushrooms and peppers and many more. I don't even know the names of some of the vegetables they sell and I can't even find out what they're called and what other vegetables they're related to. Then there are the fruit vendors with their large wire-baskets filled up with fruits and installed on a bike. Apples, bananas, pineapples, mangos and oranges.
And then, amid all of this, there are cars and bikes and motorbikes and rickshaws and dogs and people carrying sofas on their back or pulling a stubborn goat behind them; women in sarees with their toddlers dressed in jeans; children in uniform going to school. And flower vendors and incense vendors and watchers and beggars and all the gods and spirits watching over all of these.

Walking on these streets feels like an assault on your senses. Visually there's so much to see or discover, so many details, so many colors. The contrast between the dark dull colors of the buildings and the bright vibrant colors of the women's sarees is striking. Then there are all these noises: people shouting, cars and bikes honking.
Hmmm, garlic, now curry, then incense, rotting garbage, garlic again, spices, flowers, spices again, garbage, food, curry ... Overwhelming. Overwhelming to the point where the garbage dumps and the smell of rotting garbagedo not bother you anymore, such are they integrated in this picture.

I have this habit of following locals into narrow alleys or through tiny entrances leading to courtyards. I did this in Europe - in Italy and Austria - and not rarely did I discover wonderful quiet oasis away from the busy streets.
I do the same thing here adn enter courtyards where little secluded temples reside, where people go about their daily business or some beautiful detail reveals itself. I am reminded - interestingly enough, as weird as it may sound - of Italy and of Venice.
One doorstep away from the busy street there's this large square courtyard. An old man is busy carefully washing the little stupas in front of an old temple with a beautifully wood-carved balcony. He's doing it totally concentrated on every single detail touching the stone with respect and love.
In another courtyard I see a sitting woman spinning wool. Or women doing laundry.

When I reach Indra Chowk I know I'm on the right track and closer to my destination. Here the vegetable vendors have given way to the textile handlers. The sarees are all on display in the shop windows or above the shop entrance. They are all white and blond, very cool-looking women. Just another contrasting detail.

Again I enter through a side entrance into the square where people sell corn and rice in front and around a temple. It is the Matsyendranath temple all covered in gilded copperplates and encased in a "steel cage" to protect it from robbery.
From here I can walk further into a couple more courtyards. The last one is the pottery market where clay pots piled up in big heaps are waiting for customers.

A few minutes away I enter Durbar Square which has been on the UNESCO list of world heritage sites for more than 2 decades now. Far from being just a monument area, the square - which houses a huge complex of temples and palaces - this is a place of worhip and celebrations during religious holidays and festivals, a busy tourist destination and a place where people continue to live and work. Daily life and history are perfectly integrated. Unfortunatley motorized access is not prohibited, so you have all the traffic and aspects of life here. People, pigeons, dogs, cows and vehicles, all are competing for space among the centuries old buildings.
I stroll and watch without taking out my guide book or taking any pictures. I decline the help of local guides and I avoid the beggars. I want to take it all in first, to resoate with this place before I start getting into the number details. The big earthquake in 1933 has destroyed a lot but the temples have been restored and one can admire and discover in awe the delicate, exquisite woodcarving details on these temples.
The temples differ in size, just as they date from different periods. Except for the main palace complex which was the royal residence until the 20th century and is now a museum, all temples are accessible at least for the locals. Some are multi-storeyed and sit on multiple step brick bases which make them dominate the square and function as good spots for sitting and observing the chaotic activity below. Then there are temples which on their mauin street-level floor house little shops. The location offers the best opportunity for commerce and not just tourist related.If you circle around the temple you can find anything from souvenir shops to to spice shops. You can buy traditional handmade puppets as well as dried shrimps for that matter. Mandalas and bananas.

I head towards the Kumari-ghar which is not a pagoda-style building like the rest. Built in the 18th century it houses the living goddess, considered to be an incarnation of the goddess Taleju, the royal deity of the Malla kings.Hidden from the public eyes, but receiving lots of publicity, the Kumari only comes out once a year during the Indra-Yatra festival.
I pick this building because of the astonishing woodcarvings on the window frames and its whole exterior. A small entrance takes you into the small courtyard which makes me think that here I can find some peaceful, quiet moments of reading or meditation.
It is a small courtyard with more fine woodcarvings as well as stone carvings on the base. On each side of the quandrangle there are woodcarved windows and balconies, on two oppoasite sides there is a niche with some finely carved wood pillars. One of them seems to be a Coke warehouse/storage room. Why here? I wonder. The opposite niche houses a sofa and some chairs - perfect for sitting and meditating I'm thinking.
Some German tourists come with a guide and the place stops being peaceful. Minutes later I am apporached by a local guide. It's hard to escape, I guess so eventually, after about half an hour of negociation and some frustration I end up paying him something to just leave me alone. If I can remember even 20% of what my guidebooks says I'm happy. But I know I tend to forget all the details within a couple of days. I cannot even remember the names of all these temples. So his knowledge of Sanskrit unfortunately doesn't help me get any further. But his persistence helps him make a living :-)

All these negociations make me feel bad. These people are good "psychologists", they can read me easily and exploit any weakness. Everybody who approached me today figured out it was my first or second day in Kathmandu.Is it because people only stay here for 1-2 days? Is it because I look like a greenhorn? Whatever ...

The guy is gone with all his history and Sanskrit knowledge. But so is my mood. I take out my camera and start shooting. A harmless weapon, but, nevertheless, I can see it as a weapon. In the meantime the sky has cleared up a bit so there's even some nice sunlight.
Then I return to the square and tour again every single temple. The platform in front of the Jagannath Temple reminds me - again - of Venice. It is all dominated by pigeons. Thousands of pigeons cover it, attracted and fed by the people. Among them a few holy cows are picking the corn grains and whatever else they find. OK, the cows are missing in Venice's piazza in front of the San Marco cathedral, but there's always a few tourists making up for them there :-)

As I crouch down to take some pictures I feel a slight push on my left. Then another, more determined. I turn around and I stare into the eyes of a cow. No kissing, please. She pushes me again, asking for food, I guess, and licks my pants and calves. I try pushing her away unsuccessfully. Well, it's not my territory and so I have to back off, let her pass before I continue with my pictures.

The book says about the Jagannath Temple that "this temple is the oldest structure of the square and is noted for the erotic carvings on its roof struts.". Well, it sure is! It looks like the whole Kamasutra is represented in its woodcarvings.

I decide not to enter the main palace complex - now museum - as I am not allowed with any camera or bag. Next time I come by.

The Kasthamandap temple is distinct from all the others in thatit is an open temple, more like a public gathering building from the 12th century. In the middle there's a statue of Gorakhnath and next to it two dogs are having sex intermittently. Why am I noticing these things ? Where is the border between holiness and just plain "earthlyness" ? I'm thinking: in a Christian church nobody would think about taking off the shoes and walking around barefoot on the dirty floor. It's not that holy of a place that entering with your shoes would be a sin. Yet something like this is impossible to even imagine. I guess you can make up a list of questions like this. At least I can :-)

The open structure of the temple enables me to sit down and watch the people. A man is sitting and reading a newspaper on the steps of the next small temple. A few men are stretched out on the base of the temple and resting, possibly sleeping. Across the street a grocery vendor sits in front of his store with a wonderful display of vegetables and fruit in front of him. An old man is sitting behind his display of dried fish. he uses an umbrella to protect himself from the sun. A woman sells candles next to the burning candle display in front of the Ganesh temple. Tourists are passing by, children in uniforms, bicycles, rickshaws, porters with humangous loads on their back.

Next I start a walk through the Southern part of the old city. There are temples at every step. From time to time there is a fountain- basin where people wash their laundry or even themselves. The streets are narrow and less busy than in the Northern part. I explore courtyards and get again reminded of the Italian villages of Tuscany while going up a narrow winding street.

In one of the courtyards which houses a little temple in the center a family is gathered on one side and peeling the leaves off corncobs. On the opposite side is a stable. A beautiful big black cow is peeking through the window. She's curious. As I'm taking a picture of her a woman comes and feeds the cow some chapatis. I ask whether the cow would eat the banana peels I'm carrying with me. I bought a few small bananas, ate them but could not simply throw the remains on the street. This is how I run around with garbage till I get back to the hotel in the evening :-)
From the gestures more than anything the women understands what I'm asking about and nods telling me to go ahead. I'm not sure who's happier: me or the cow ? But certainly this was good team work and waste management.

I return to Durbar Square when it starts raining. I seek shelter on the highest step of the Maju Deva temple. There are a lot of people up there for this reason and also just to escape the crowds and enjoy some quiet moments like a spectator to the show below.
I watch an old woman crouched on the steps of the nearby temple peeling off the outer leaves of the small cabbages she tries to sell.Just another image of the daily activities I witness here all the time.
At some point I consider that the rain threat diminished, since it is just drizzling. So I start going back to the hotel. The drizzle changes back into rain, and heavier rain and I become worried about my camera. I brought my raincoat especially for this situation and a dry sack for the camera. I had them with me all the time but left them behind at the hotel this morning.
I seek shelter in various spots, at a temple entrance, in front of store windows... I notice that the whole commerce business is organized in clusters. There are the streets selling only textiles, then the markets with vegetables and fruit only. All dental offices are lined up on 2 streets. The motorbike and bike workshops are also in one area.
By the time I reach the hotel I am partially soaked. The pack is all wet on the outside but, fortunately, only a bit damp on the inside. I was lucky. Afew more minutes and the camera would have been tested for water-proofness :-)
I feel cold and so I takwe a shower, dress warmer and head out for dinner.I'm starving after having only some candies and almonds as well as a few small bananas all day since 6:30 am. My guidebook says that there's a good restaurant at moderate prices right next door to the hotel. It's good timing since there is a power outage between 6-8 pm. The hotel generator has already taken over.Even the Internet cafe downstairs is functional and busy.
The restaurant, however, in an inner courtyard is in the dark. On a raised base is a covered patio where several tables are set and lit by small candles. There is no other customer there and I end up having dinner at candlelight, outside with the whole staff just serving me. The Indian food is a bit spicy for me but very tasty and cheap - about 6$ the whole dinner. The waiter is bored and curious and - after exhausting all his questions - starts teaching me Nepalese. It is only when I ask him to stop because I am getting overwhelmed that he leaves me and I can concentrate on the food.
It's been a long day and I feel exhausted. As soon as I get back to my room I go to bed. Tomorrow I'll go and look for the trekking agency.