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# In Patan

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Kathmandu, Nepal
Monday, November 22, 2010

On Saturday, we visited Durbar Square-compulsory for tourists. This is where the kings used to live many years ago. (There is new, more modern palace, but since the King was kicked out it has been turned into a museum.)
We caught a taxi from near our hotel in Thamel, all five of us crammed into one small car, Tom on my lap in the back-no concerns about safety here. On arrival, we were directed by a guard, or policeman, to the ticket booth where a man offering to be our guide immediately appeared. He told us he could show us all the temples, but most importantly, the Kumari or 'Living Goddess'. A man next to us assured us he was a very experienced guide, and since it was only going to cost the equivalent of $12 we agreed.
It turned out to be a good move, because otherwise we would have wandered around not really knowing or understanding what we were looking at and I don't think we would have been able to see the Kumari.
Kumari are chosen at around the age of 3 or 4. They must come from a particular family, have the same horoscope as the King (not sure how that works now), be born at the full moon and have numerous specific physical characteristics. Once the lucky few are selected, they are subjected to two tests. First they have a buffalo slaughtered in front of them. If this doesn't faze them, they are then put into a dark room with scary music playing. Then the priest puts on a scary mask and runs through the room to scare her. If she remains composed and even with a smile on her face then she's the one. She is now doomed to spend her entire childhood, until puberty, shut up in the temple with a priest and some other carers, none of whom is her parents. They can, however visit. She comes out about 13 times a year for festivals but her feet must never touch the ground and so she is carried in a golden, canopied chair. Once she has her first period she's back to being an ordinary mortal, is pentioned off for life and is doomed to never marry because for a man to marry a former Kumari is serious bad luck. Our guide told us of several men who, ignoring this warning, met various unpleasant fates.
We were led through a low doorway (they're all low) and into a beautiful courtyard overlooked by intricately carved windows. At one sat a man, the priest. We were told the Kumari would soon appear but that it was forbidden to take photos. A couple of other groups entered the courtyard and then a hush fell and we waited. At one of the windows a six-year-old girl appeared dressed in red silken clothes and made up in the traditional way with eyeliner curving up at the edges and a dot on her forehead. She just stood there gripping the railing and swinging back and forth as little girls do. She stood there for about 30 seconds and then disappeared inside again.
And then a commotion started. One woman from another group had, despite there being a sign saying not to, taken a photo. Immediately a policeman seized her camera and deleted ALL of her photos. She was livid and began shouting and waving her arms. It was hard to feel sorry for her, particularly when she was still going at it twenty minutes later.
Once we'd been shown the all the temples-not forgetting of course the ancient Nepalese version of porn, the Karma Sutra temple (some imaginations! The Karma Sutra was developed to increase the population, because everyone was sitting around meditating and being celibate, so I'm not sure why they felt the need to involve animals.)-we were taken to where they paint mandalas. This turned out to be one elaborate sales pitch and we said 'thanks but no thanks' and left. Our guide kept hanging around, even though the tour was over and we weren't free of him until we got in a taxi back to Thamel.
Yesterday, Sunday, we were taken to our host family, Suhendra, Bidya and their two children aged 12 and 8 who's names I find too difficult to remember. They live in Patan, south of, but more or less part of, Kathmandu. Suhendra is the MD of a cargo shipping company and Bidya works as a journalist for an economics newspaper. They have a two-storey house and we are on the bottom floor with the bathroom and kitchen. There is a German girl here as well but she leaves tomorrow. We'll have our own room then (at the moment they've just sectioned of the living room, which is fine) and the boys share a room. Not surprisingly it's pretty basic. Thankfully they have a normal toilet and there is a shower, but hot water is rare. There is a primitive solar heating system on the roof-nothing like the ones at home-but yesterday afternoon when I tried to have a shower, the water was not even tepid. So I guess it'll be the good old APC wash (armpit and crotch).
The children arrived home from school at about 5pm (the Nepali week is Sunday to Friday, and wouldn't that suck!). They were a bit shy at first, but next thing Tom and the boy were upstairs on the computer playing 'Need for Speed'. After that there was a noisy game of Hide 'n' Seek, which Dan also joined in, and thus the cultural divide was bridged. Suhendra and Bidya arrived home about 6.30 and we sat down to our first meal of dahl baht (lentil soup and rice and vegetables). We will eat this morning and night. Thankfully there is the Bakery Café not far from here. Anneke, the German girl, took us there for lunch yesterday. The food is great, safe to eat and has 'normal' things on the menu. We also plan, like most volunteers, to go back to Thamel, or away somewhere else, on weekends and stay at a hotel. We'll have to anyway, because the only laundry option here is hand washing and it simply won't be possible to do five people's washing by hand and get it dry. Anyway it costs peanuts to get your laundry done and it comes back beautifully clean and folded.
Our host 'parents' are very nice and were apparently very excited to have a family staying. They have hosted many volunteers but we are the first family.
It is much quieter here compared to Thamel. There is no loud music or noisy generator, but there are many dogs barking at night and even worse, the screams of a dog being attacked. Next door has a dog, but it spends its life either locked in a very small kennel or chained up. I guess they just keep it for security. The poor thing cowered pitifully when it saw us. Our house has locked metal bars on all the doors, but some of the bigger houses have high walls with some interesting security measures. Many have broken shards of glass cemented upright along the walls, other have nails. One, obviously belonging to a wealthier family has actual razor wire.
The CBR (Community Based Rehabilitation) where I will be working was closed yesterday but we all went to the school where Neville and Christopher and the other two will be. Ai ai ai!!, What chaos!. I'm glad I'm not working there and Neville is pretty nervous, but Christopher, who takes everything in his stride and hasn't been worried by anything so far, thinks it will be great.
Anneke has been working at the CBR for the last two months and I wish she hadn't told me anything because it sounds like hell: epileptic children who have no medication to control there seizures and when they do fit there is no such thing as oxygen to support them. She said many of the children were born premature with no medical intervention, often because the grandparents don't believe in it, and the children are therefore brain-damaged.
I find out for myself soon enough what it's like.

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