|
|
Aura Comm - Vol 4 - Issue 8
Kathmandu, Nepal
February 6, 2005
Nameste,
On the fourth day of this state of emergency with no phones or Internet (and all rights suspended) I realize it is time to cautiously venture out into Kathmandu and take care of business. Elder Shyam assured me everything was stable in our vicinity. I must reach our American Embassy so I can reply to my family's concerned emails that were personally delivered by the Vice Consul the night before.
Traffic is lighter than normal, yet I have never seen so many security officials before. Almost every traffic corner has an armed crew ready to go. Scores of soldiers were marching single file with machine guns poised...
Some disconcertingly have their rifles already aimed onto the roadway. Everyone appears to go about their day in a normal fashion and most seem oblivious to the extra forces on duty.
Then comes a tremendous cacophony of horns blaring and the main road is filled with motorcyclists proudly waving Nepali flags in obvious support for the King's policies (so far). In the opposite direction came a small truck bouncing and banging over this terrible road. A body of a soldier appeared with his feet sticking out over the tailgate. His comrades riding with him gave the impression this was just another day. Rashmi proceeds to tell me it is considered good luck to see a funeral. Last year I was told it was also good luck to step on cow poop. (The highly revered sacred animal of the Hindu.) Holy cow! I don't know how much more of this good luck I can take.
In a strict manner a soldier motions our taxi to pull over and all papers are requested from the driver. (I am fairly used to this so I take it in stride. They respect tourists and I always project a calm vibe.) Heavily armed forces surround our tiny vehicle peering in each window at the same time. I respond with the "Nepali nod" I call it; a slight smile while I rock my head slightly back and forth with a twist. It is seen as a sign of respect for their duties. (It kind of looks like you are implying no, but really saying yes. It took a while to master but now it comes second nature.) Once this white guy is spotted we are quickly motioned on. Shyam and Rashmi both agree all this is much easier when I am with them. (I can see on Rashmi's face she does not like this one bit. More out of frustration than fear.)
We arrive at the American Embassy where only I am allowed and quickly ushered in. Rashmi and the two Shyam's wait on the sidewalk with the ever-ready Nepali guards stationed out front. Escorted through a tight security check I slowly hobble with a cane to the main bunker on the property. Moved forward (past Nepali's applying for visas) to the front of the line. I meet the Vice Counsel Mr. Dragon. (What a name for an American working in Asia huh?)
Through a small opening underneath bulletproof glass I am given a form to sign giving my permission to release information to my family and the media. I then proceed to handwrite a message to my wife and family apologizing for not being able to come home for another 3 to 5 days because of my injury. (Our Embassy has its own satellite connection thankfully.) They offer to scan, attach to an email and send to her within the day. (I am very grateful, as this is the only message I am able to get out of Nepal during the King's self-declared state of emergency.) I quiz them further about what is going on in Nepal. It seems they know about as much as anyone else. Nothing. (They do recommend I go to the OM Hospital to get a cast, but I opted to wait until I return since I was informed I would have to stay even longer.)
Then onto the only Thai airways office in the kingdom in a futile attempt to reschedule my ticket. Frustrated foreigners were arriving in a steady stream but with no computers and no phones, they could do nothing. So we're off to the Bajracharya residence to complete our spectacular jewelry designs and get them ready for shipping. With my pained foot perched on a stool, we peruse new and glorious stone arrivals, listen to Nepali music and drink tea as the hours again slip away. There is a discussion started about Western television and their favorite programs that manage to make its way here. WWF, Friends, and Baywatch are all referred to enthusiastically. In regards to Baywatch I mention that some in the US call the show "eye-candy". After a few moments everyone but Rashmi (who simply did not get it at first) explodes in laughter. (In the US, 100-dollar bills are often called "Benjamins" because of Benjamin Franklin's face on it. I then observed that the Nepali 1000-rupee note bears the King's image on one side and an elephant on the other.) Sensing I was on a comedic roll I mentioned I had a deposit of 70 Elephants to present to them. Again my incomparable wit was met with spontaneous laughter. (From then on they started using this slang - what have I done?)
The Adhikari family has been looking forward to seeing me. I decide since I am already out and about negotiating the current challenges of Kathmandu it was time to visit. I so enjoy spending time with this wonderful family. Upon arrival I am warmly greeted by Rashmi's older brother, who helps me hobble up two flights of stairs. Immediately he presents a drawing of yours truly. I was deeply touched by such an expression. Rashmi, her mother and grandmother all fuss over my foot unceasingly. Three types of prepared potatoes (with lots of tomato sauce as they know I love it), curried chicken, some sort of homemade chips, sliced apples, coke and milk tea is lovingly offered in a parade that never stops. We watch a DVD concert performance I purchased in Delhi of renowned Indian singer Asha Boshle. Her performance is absolutely spectacular and the entire family sings along in Hindi. For those who are not aware of her exceptional vocal prowess I urge you to find one of her CDs, which are available in most world music sections at any record store. After many photos are taken I say my goodbyes, as Rashmi, Shyam and I are off to meet with Surendra of Sur Sudha.
He is quite surprised to see me limping and after the story is shared proceeds to discuss opportunities for Rashmi. He is quite moved by the support of these two fine individuals and offers to help. He promises to procure a top-notch vocal coach for her. (She is flabbergasted!) He goes onto to say Shyam too will be offered an opportunity to get experience as a production assistant. He loves Nepali folk music so much and this is one of his favorite bands. I find myself misting-up, as there are smiles all around. This is great news and makes me very happy. We discuss further the idea of our music collaboration and I am momentarily struck on how my dream of blending Nepali melodies with Western grooves was coming true. Now I have the good fortune to create with the best musicians Nepal has to offer. I think all of us in that room felt blessed.
On Sunday morning the Bajracharya Brothers recommend their local Newari doctor. (The Newari are the original peoples of Nepal and have their own language. Many Nepali do not even understand it, so often I go through two translators to communicate. Fun stuff.)
What have I got to lose I think so this medicine man proceeds to create a secret herbal paste on my fractured foot. When asked what it is I am told it is sacred. Ok, I'll go with that. This dirty-brown gunky blend is lovingly applied for nearly 30 minutes and then a special paper is wrapped around my foot. (They call it Newari plaster.) Immediately my foot is soothed and I think why the heck did I not have this done five days ago! Cost for this house visit is 100 rupee (about $1.25US).
The brothers then invite us to their cousin's (they call her sister) wedding that evening. This is quite exciting, as this very special event is a traditional Newari wedding. It will last for three days. So off I go to a local shop that specializes in gifts for the bride and groom. Recommended to purchase an iron, I select one and they wrap it immediately. Arriving at the wedding site the first thing you see is the bride and her assistants all dressed in their finery. I am told to present the gift and not fully understanding the protocol I place the gift on a table in front of her. She looks confused and darting her head back and forth looking for an answer on what to do, I am elbowed by Ishor to hand it to her personally. Oops. Then she gives me a handful of nuts of some sort. Then I am directed to give them back to her bridesmaids who then proceed to give me some candy. (Whew! Got through that without looking too much like an idiot I think.) The three brothers really made me feel like a special guest. I was warmly greeted by this huge extended family.
So onto goofy mistake number two. I ask where the groom is so I could meet him and with a hearty laugh they explain he will not arrive for two more days. This is the wedding party for the bride. There are loads of tears pouring out from her family's eyes. In Newari tradition once she is married, the husband's family becomes her first priority. That's the way it works folks. So her family sensing a deep loss is crying out of sadness as well as joy. The women arrive beautifully dressed in traditional sari. As handsome young suited males enter Rashmi leans over to me with a sheepish grin and whispers "eye-candy". (Oh gawd what have I done?)
It's further explained that this is a traditionally arranged marriage. The bride and groom met only last week and talked briefly in front of each family. They both agree to this arrangement after the conversation. (How's that for a short courting cycle?) The men do all the cooking with great zeal. Homemade wine is ever present and this colorfully festive celebration kicks into high gear. As the party swells to a very large group they sit on a bamboo mat and are served food via ladle by the men. All eat with their hands. The traditional menu consists of beaten rice, buffalo and curried vegetables. Even though this party will go deep into the night, I thought it was time to gracefully exit since it is not wise to be out too late. As we begin to leave I am asked to join the bride for a photo. Since I am the only Anglo I really stood out like a sore thumb with lots of innocent stares. The photo shoot was observed by all with great glee. I had a marvelous time. Escorted by Rashmi and her father back to the guesthouse at 9pm, again we are tersely stopped by heavily armed security forces and all papers checked. As they peer in the windows I give my well-delivered Nepali nod and we are moved on.
On my last morning in Kathmandu I visit the US embassy one more time in an attempt to send a second email to my family. Upon arrival the place now is overrun with American citizens with the same idea. I spoke with one woman who had been waiting 90 minutes already just to get through the first security screening. This tedious procedure looks like it could tie up my whole day. I decide to take the risk of going to the airport tomorrow without a confirmed seat and contact her in Bangkok.
We're off to pick up some Pashmina shawls and arrive in the old section of Patan. Saman, a classmate/friend of Shyam, greets us and speaks terrifyingly in hushed tones (in the privacy of his 8x10 room with door closed of course). Through quiet translations I am told hundreds may have been killed during a protest rally in the outskirts of Pokhara the day before. On Sunday it's said many were marching in defiance of the King's orders and were mowed down by weoponized helicopters. (My stomach-turning concern of what may be coming down outside of the Kathmandu valley is possibly being realized. I pray this is just a rumor.) NHK Japan had purportedly broadcast footage of this massacre. Anyone hear of such a thing?
With a heavy heart I take my final walk around the Boudha stupa, hobbling respectfully with the ever-growing Tibetan community, praying for peace in this region. (The first walk in almost a week. This Newari magic paste is definitely working.) The Tibetan new-year (Happy Lhosar!) is in two days and this sacred area is filling to the brim with pilgrims from Tibet, Bhutan, Sikkim and India. (This powerful gathering of the tribes becomes the perfect way to complete my sojourn.)
A group dinner has been organized to give me a family sendoff. The entire Adhikari family (all dressed in their finest), Shyam, the 3 Bros, Surendra and his guest all arrive to honor me on my last evening. I spy the kitchen staff also listening in amazement as Surendra tells the recent story of Sur Sudha performing for the leader of North Korea. (He laughed loudly at how they stood up and jumped enthusiastically upon hearing the sound of the Tabla drum for the first time.) He introduced us all to his marketing associate Sadhana. (It means prayerful songs about the gods and goddesses.) Speaking in Nepali to Rashmi’s mother he promises to help find her a vocal coach. Her entire family is pleased beyond words.
He quietly says to me it is difficult to speak freely because of all the rights suspended. He is very afraid for his country he says. He too was surprised at such a royal coup, as he had just performed for the King and Queen three weeks ago. There was no hint of what was going to happen. (He did mention when the King requests you to perform you really cannot refuse.) Photos are taken as we all say our goodbyes. Rashmi's mother cries as she buries her forehead into my hands in deep respect. All it takes is one to start and the river flows I assure you.
At the airport Rashmi and Shyam hold my hands as we look into each other's eyes for the last time. Shyam surprises me when he begins to gently weep. He says I am his father and he will miss me. I can also read in their faces they do not want to be left behind with their country in chaos. Remaining strong and with a hearty smile I turn and hobble into the security zone. My friends melted into the crowd and it was then I too failed to hold back tears for these lovely souls and their country.
Flying high on Thai airways I become mesmerized to the ever-shrinking vista of the snow-capped Himalayas. I have now personally escaped the unprecedented tight restrictions that still remain for my dear friends. Now entirely cutoff from them like the rest of the world, my anguished heart finds difficulty bearing such sadness. Must we as human beings behave in such a manner I wonder? Must one accept such suffering? I think not.
Again I ask for forgiveness in worrying so many. I thank you Lani, Chris, Jesa, Jeremiah, Dustin, Rachelle, Ella and Jaden for your understanding of this mission. None of this would be possible without your support. My Tibetan and Nepali families are helping me learn how to love and appreciate my first family even more.
Thank you Maria for being my number one ally. Spot, you came through when my family needed assurance. I will never forget that.
And to the numerous sponsors and supporters of this journey I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
Please contact me if there is any interest in sponsoring one of these fine individuals or hosting a jewelry showing with proceeds going towards their education. 100% of any donation will go directly to the student of you choice. Light a candle and give a prayer for this region of the world if you would. The situation is unfortunately getting worse each day. Take care my friends. Until next time.
Copyright © 2005 William Aura/Aura Imports All Rights Reserved.
| Article Statistics: |
| Viewed:1212 |
| Current Reviews: 0 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
| 0 items |
|
|
|
 |
Your Account |
|
|
|
Quick Find |
|
|
|
|
|
Best Sellers |
|
|
|
Tell A Friend |
|
|
|
