Maurice Sendak's Wild Things

Even before his recent death I'd been thinking about Maurice Sendak. I love his Where the Wild Things Are and enjoyed reading it to my children as well as my students.
Last year when we were traveling in Tamil Nadu and exploring Hindu temples, I said to Rick that I thought Maurice Sendak had to have  visited southern India. Now that we are in Nepal and seeing even more temples, I am convinced he visited Nepal. Take a look at some of the wild things of Nepal.

An afternoon at Pashupatinath

The Pashupati Temple

The final act of making an offering of rice, seeds and an oil lamp to the river

A few days ago I spent a fascinating afternoon just observing at Pashupati temple and cremation site. This is one of the most important Hindu sites in Nepal where the god Shiva reigns supreme. It is also the site where Hindus are cremated.
Far from being gruesome, the site is awe inspiring to me. It is a powerful place to contemplate life and death. For Hindus, death is a step towards the next incarnation. A spirit continues to be reborn.

Open air cremations happen all day, every day here. The bodies are brought to the Bagmati river on a metal stretcher and are covered in layers of saffron cloth.  They are then placed on a stone slab which slopes down towards the river. This slab is near the square stone ghat where the cremation fire is built. Once on the slab various ritual body  washings occur using the black water of the Bagmati.

I sat on the stone steps by the filthy, but holy, Bagmati river  across the cremation ghats and just watched and tried to figure out what in the world was happening. Bells rang, tinny horns called, cleaning women swept the steps and the crackle of fires were the only sounds. Mourners grieved mostly silently and visitors were solemn. A monkey stared at us all while the holy men (sadhus) rested in the shade.
Across the narrow river I watched a young man bend near a saffron covered body and then place incense sticks in the four holes of the slab on which the body lay. The smoke of the incense mixed with the smoke of the candles at the body's head. Various other mourners brought more saffron cloth pieces and gently placed them over the body. Others rested golden marigold garlands on the chest.
Enterprising little boys scrambled in the dark river water searching for metal....in fact, one fellow fished with a magnet looking for coins. Serious miners hope to retrieve gold fillings from the water.
I noticed that once a receipt was returned to a mourner, then work started to build the fire. (I was told that it costs about $25 to be cremated at Pashupati.)

First a mix of green and dry  grass is scattered to cover the funeral slab. Then three neat piles of rice are placed in the middle of the slab and finally the pieces of firewood are perfectly stacked. Before the body was carried to rest on the wood, the head was revealed and washed by a few family members who poured drops of river water from a brass urn .
Then the body was carried to the waiting pyre while the family scattered vermillion powder, rice and marigold blossoms on the body. The pall bearers were men wearing white shirts who carried the body around the unlit pyre three times. At that point, the body was piled with saffron robes, a few white Buddhist neck scarves (katas) as well as the red powder, rice and flowers. It was placed on the stack of wood and then a male family member wearing a white robe walked around the pyre three times. The eldest son or grandson or other male family member is obliged to light the fire for a male.

This young man lit a wick to start the fire at the base of the head. As soon as the fire was burning and a few saffron cloths were tossed in the water by the fire tenders, the ragamuffins were in the water searching for coins. There were no other sounds but for some quiet crying.
I was told that it takes 3-4 hours for a body to burn completely. So family members sit under a covered porch and wait. Once the body has burnt, the male relatives must use the river water to wash the ghat clean making sure that all the ashes are in the river. Once the ashes are all in the water and the ghat is clean and ready for the next cremation, a male family member walks to the middle of the shallow river.
I watched a man as he carried a basket with rice, seeds and an oil lamp which he placed in the middle of the river after ducking his head in the water. The basket quickly sank, but the rice and lamp floated as one down the river.

One of many monkeys who live by the river

These flowers are for sale as we walk to the temple area.

The long row of cremation ghats

Hindu holy men watching a service

These sadhus wait in the shade and hope to be paid for having their photo taken.

Grief

Layers of saffron cloths are placed on the body

A monkey sits in the river  among the marigolds, logs, straw and ashes.

Though terribly sad for the loved ones of the deceased, there was a feeling of respect and camaraderie among the visitors at Pashupati. Grief is grief anywhere. Though we didn't all speak the same language or share the same religion, we shared the knowledge that we will all die. I want to believe that the ritual and tradition must offer some comfort to the mourners of Pashupati.

Bandhs

This will not be a pretty post. It is time to write about the not-so-nice features of life in Nepal. The country is now in the midst of "bandh" or strike season. Bandh is the Nepali word for closed and that is exactly what happens during a bandh. Shops, schools, traffic and most commerce stops...causing hardship, financial suffering and inconvenience to most. The usual thugs take the opportunity to cause mischief by vandalizing cars or throwing rocks. The May 27 deadline for all parties to agree on a new constitution is fast approaching and it seems as though each concerned groups is trying to make a point. There are great difficulties in finding common ground in a country with 80 different ethnic groups and 100 different languages.  One proposal is to organize the country into states based on ethnicity....probably not a good idea.
However, it seems to me that something does in fact need to happen here. Government is supposed to provide basic infrastructure, right? Water, electricity, roads, sewers, education....
Water....my neighbors right outside my high brick walls still dip a bucket in the well outside my gate or some walk to the undeniably beautiful water fountains that were built hundreds of years ago. We have the luxury of having water delivered by a water truck, however, Hari, our cook, still boils the water to kill the critters. Deaths from typhoid and diarrhea are common.
Electricity....Nepal has the second highest hydroelectric power potential (after Brazil) in the world, yet for various reasons the power has not been developed appropriately. Here in Kathmandu, we are faced with daily load shedding which means we have no electricity for hours each day. This house has a generator so we pollute the neighborhood with the rumble, but at least our appliances can run. Other businesses do not have generators and it is difficult to be competitive in the 21st century without computers. Solar power is one answer here....
Roads...they are trying. Around Kathmandu some areas look like a bulldozer has just been through...except that all the demolishing has been done by men and a few women with sledge hammers. A move is underway to widen all streets and that means that all the brick walls that folks have built to shield their homes and yards from roads must be demolished. Once the walls are down road widening can begin....except that power poles sit in the way. I don't think I'll be here when all the power poles come down. Maybe they'll bury them underground. Once roads are wider then even more cars, buses, motorcycles and mini buses will be out.
There is only one rule for driving in Nepal "Don't touch." Rick would add "No driver eye contact." Then you don't need to yield.  Here the roads are a heart stopping ballet of darting and swerving drivers. Thankfully, the clogged traffic rarely allows a driver to move beyond second gear.
Sewers....look at the Bagmati river.
Education....they are trying, but literacy rate for women is at 25% while men have a rate of 50%. The goal is for 91% literacy by 2012.

The public water fountain in Durbar Square, Patan.

Waiting for the tap to begin to flow.

Ready to roar.

View from my car window. Pick a lane....

 Maybe I'm sounding grumpy, but this is really just a posting to remind myself and readers that even though this country is blessed with breathtaking mountains, rivers, valleys and wonderful people, there are significant issues to be solved.

Bodhnath Stupa

It is hot walking around the stupa. I've read that one needs to walk around 108 times to ensure prayers are sent.

Prayer wheels

Puffed rice, fruit and candy waiting to be blessed and then given to the monks.

Window of Shechen monastery.....gorgeous.

Bodhnath stupa is my favorite place in Kathmandu. It is the largest stupa in the country and the spiritual home for many Tibetan Buddhists who fled to Nepal when the Chinese invaded Tibet.

I find myself drawn again and again to the stupa and the monasteries that are clustered there.  The area is an oasis of calm in the chaos, dust and racket of Kathmandu. When you first arrive, you are immediately dizzied by the crowds of people walking clockwise around its base. Some  are turning the prayer wheels to send their prayers to heaven. Maroon robed monks, one legged beggars, topi-topped Nepalis, striped apron wearing grandmothers, jet black pigtailed and red tasseled nomads, safari clad tourists, suited businessmen, tight jeaned youth, calloused forehead prostrators, and your average mantra reciting local all gather together and walk, pray, prostrate, offer, light candles, gossip, and shop around this stupa day and night.
There is a sense of this place being tethered to the earth from all this walking around, mixing spiritual obligation, devotion, and everyday affairs into one roundabout cauldron.

Yesterday I was drawn into Tsamchen gompa by the sound of the chanting monks and the beat of their drums. I first removed my shoes and then sat cross legged on the soft cushions and listened as they chanted their prayers. I find the chanting calming and soothing. A Tibetan family sat next to me with their prayer books and were solemnly turning the papers one by one. I noticed that the stack of prayers is about 2 inches thick and they appeared to have completed only about a quarter inch. How long does it take to get through the entire prayer book? Are you supposed to do so?
Respectful visitors are welcome. During my hour of sitting, various groups of tourists wandered in and stood quietly absorbing the sounds and colors.
After some time, a few younger monks walked to each of the seated chanting monks and offered a large round bread and a lump of something wrapped in wax paper. I was curious to see if the chanting would stop for this snack when all of a sudden a monk came to me and presented me with bread and the lump. I politely nodded thanks and let the food sit in front of me. By then the chanting had stopped and the Tibetan man next to me smiled and gave me a poke and motioned that I should eat.
Now I am very careful here  in Nepal about what and where I eat, but I did not want to offend the gracious monks...especially since I had been sitting there for almost an hour enjoying the calm. So I watched what others were doing and squeezed a bit of the lump (spicy potato...actually very tasty) on my bread and took a few nibbles. It tasted great since it was almost lunch time, but I was cautious and discreetly put the remaining food into my bag. The monks gobbled and quickly resumed their chanting. The after-snack chant added finger snapping and various hand waves along with the cymbals, drums and horns. Just as I was planning a graceful exit from my cross legged position (my legs had gone to sleep!), everyone stood up and walked out the door. That was the end of that session.

Eyes are on all four sides.

I learned that one should walk three times around the large wheel....once for the past, once for the present and finally for the future. "Praise to the jewel in the lotus" is inscribed on the wheels.

One side of the stupa

Candles are lit as offerings.

The service was over.

The huge green drum, the cymbals and the prayer papers are needed for the service.

My view of the monks.

This dear lady has been at the stupa every time I have gone. She looks so tired as she walks.

Turning the wheels

I couldn't resist these two guys....one dapper monk and one fellow carrying the supplies the Nepali way.

Novices cleaning the steps of Shechen gompa

He always sits near the steps to the stupa.

So I walked around the stupa clockwise....keeping the prayer wheels to my right side. I turned the wheels and hoped I had sent my prayers to heaven.