Sight Seeing in Kathmandu Nepal, Part one

After breakfast we had a long discussion about our travel plans for the following day. My friends the Neupane's came from a small mountain village in the Rasuwa district. Some of you might recognize them from my stories, 'Dream a World of Good.' I had a plan to donate some books to their village school on this trip and they wanted to treat me to an extra excursion to Tatopani which they told me may be the highest elevation for natural hot springs in the world.

After planning, their son, Belief, showed us all over the Kathmandu valley beginning with a Shrine right next to their home. There are little shrines all over the valley. I have been told that less than 50 years ago there were more shrines than people in the valley.

When I lived in Japan there was a clear distinction between Temples and Shrines, Temples/Buddhist, Shrines/Shinto. Here in Nepal, there seems to be a great sharing of beliefs and it is difficult to tease one religion from the other. To say 'shrine' implies that something is being enshrined. Often I find what is being enshrined are the holy relics of the Buddhist tradition in their stupas.

Don't forget to click on these photos and really explore the detail in the artwork.

Below is Saraswati, the goddess of learning, music and poetry, revered by Brahmans and Buddhists alike.

Winged Lion Guardian

Temple Door, Cheppu, the disembodied head, is both brave and truthful. He guards the doors to shrines. Around the door are dragons, symbols of sacred wisdom, and crocodiles, water deities.
To the right of the door on the wall is Nag Kanya, rain givers and guardians of water. You might remember that 'nag' means snake.

Making an offering


View from the temple


Playing at the temple on a Saturday.


Images of the different aspects of Buddha with and offering in front. Bells are rung to get the deities attention for worship.

The Eye of the Beholder

Our Back Yard

About a year and a half ago, we moved from within the beltway around Washington, DC, to rural central Pennsylvania. Most of our neighbors here are Amish or Mennonite. We don't interact with the neighbors much, not because we haven't tried, but they go to different schools and their lives revolve around a different church so we just don't come in contact with one another much. Our nearest neighbor is about a quarter mile down our driveway.

The public school where our children are attending is about a 3 mile bus ride from our home. Our first real shock coming to this area was that the public school asked us to sign a release form so that our 4th grader could be sent for his 'religious education' at the Lutheran church during the middle of the school day once a week. The alternative to sending him to church was to let him sit in a classroom by himself for an hour. I had to meditate on this situation for a day.

In the community where we lived before, this practice could not have been tolerated. There were people from all over the world with many different religions going to the public schools. In fact, when I told my friend in Silver Spring, Maryland, about the practice of sending the kids for a religious education during school hours, she said that it was completely against the law and that she as a member of the ACLU would call someone for me right away. I asked her not to.

Of course we are outsiders here, and a fight is not how we had planned to spend our time in the countryside. If we were living in any other country for a year, I would relax and observe the customs and religions of that area without any difficulty. I would never tell them how they ought to live their lives. I have attended ceremonies and rituals of Shinto, Buddhist, Hindu, Catholic, Jewish and other traditions. Somehow, although my husband and I are Christian (surprise to those of you who thought we were not), we found this particular proposition of a religious education in a Luthern church to be very threatening. I think that it was the real potential for my 4th grader to internalize religious doctrine that we hadn't been able to hear and consider first, and that we might not agree with. This disturbed us.

My experience with most religion is that it varies wildly depending on the particular culture of the area. There are enormous differences among Hindu and Buddhist sects and perhaps even more differences among Christian denominations such as Pentecostals, Baptists, Unitarians, Amish and Catholics. These Christian groups all trace their roots to the teachings of Christ, however, I have been in some churches that never mention Jesus Christ by name and others that have said you should not read the Bible for yourself lest ye be corrupted by the devil in your own mind.

Our solution was to submit a proposal that our son be released to me for that same hour once a week. When I went in to the school office, I could see that the principal was defensive and braced for trouble. He told me that 'release time' was all right because the children were being released to the church and the education was not happening on school property. He even said, "This is a very religious area." I chose not to argue about how demeaning a statement that was. Can you imagine a Buddhist who travels for years on pilgrimages, prostrating their body mile, after mile, after mile, with stones of prayers on their heads being considered not very religious? I think that the principal was relieved at our solution to have my son released to me, although he did say that I must submit a formal proposal to the school administrators of how I would spend my 4th grader's time, "Because, after all, it is the school day."

When I arrived at school to pick up my son, all of his classmates went in single file to the church looking back occasionally at my son and me as we went to the coffee shop, which was also the hair dresser's. My son said that it was a little embarrassing and that some of the kids were asking him about what we did together. The most difficult question to answer from my son was, "What are we?" What I told him is that we are 'Divinely Ecumenical.' We believe in everyone's right to practice their own religion so long as it is not hateful and does not harm others. We also believe strongly in the separation of religion and state.

Spending this time with my child was a luxury that I know most families could not have because most parents do not have a flexible work schedule, but I am very glad that we had that opportunity. I wish that same opportunity for every parent and child to explore their own beliefs and where they came from. Indeed our time together was a divine gift. We spent our time reading Gombrich's A Little History of the World which not only tells the history of the world, but it also gives a lovely introduction to every major religion as it comes up throughout history, from the Egyptian worship of Osiris and Isis to Islam. It was written in the early 20th century by a Jewish man living in pre-Nazi Germany. Mr. Gombrich was able to address each religion with great respect, pointing out the positive aspects of each. -A Wonderful read if you have the time.

At the coffee shop/hair dresser's, one of the beauticians came back to me one day and said, "We were talking about you the other day." That was not much of a surprise, considereing it was the only hairdresser's or coffee shop in a very small town and we were having our lessons in public. She continued, "We were wondering why it is that we are the only school in the area that sends our children to release time?" I didn't have an answer for her.

I am really not opposed to religious education. In fact, I think that it is necessary in order to make sense of the world. I only hope that it is well balanced and in historical context with a discussion of both the good and bad aspects of religions. However, "fair and balanced" is in the eye of the beholder.

The One-Eyed Monkey of Swayambhu; for my boys

Bishow in the white cap.

Butternut Squash with baby monkeys.

Once, when you were very young, I journeyed to Kathmandu, Nepal, as I sometimes do, to search for the silver rings set with jewels, precious golden-faced statues, tantric drums and ceremonial horns, and all of the other exotic treasures that we sell to our customers. Back in those days there was a king who ruled the country, but his subjects were very poor, and this caused a great disturbance throughout the land. A group of people, who called themselves the Maoists, opposed the king and they would regularly call for strikes to show their anger toward the King's government. On strike days, it was forbidden to travel by vehicle or to open a shop to sell anything. If a person did open their shop, supporters of the Maoists would come and threaten them. They might destroy the shop or demand money from the shop and if one was to travel by vehicle, it was certain that someone would pick up a rock and throw it at the vehicle and then others would pick up rocks and throw them, until that person would have to stop and walk if they still could.

I knew that a strike had been called and, not wanting to lose one of the precious few days that I had to hunt for treasures in that kingdom, I made arrangements with my friend Bishow to walk to Swayambunath from my hotel. Bishow, who was a loyal companion to me when I visited Kathmandu, had first to walk several miles from his village of Patan to meet me at my hotel. He got up very early and when he arrived we had a nice breakfast of eggs and toast with marmalade and roasted tomatoes and garlic and a small pot of hot coffee with boiled milk and lots of sugar before we set off for our long walk to Swayambunath.

Swayambunath is the spiritual heart of the Kathmandu valley. The people of the valley say that, long, long ago, before the written word, so long ago that all you ever hear is 'in the primordial past,' there was a great lake in the circular shape of a mandala where dwelt the serpent king Kartonag. This was long before the birth of the Gautama Buddha, it was in the time of the Vipaswi Buddha. The Vipaswi Buddha came to the lake and said magic words and threw a lotus root into it. He said that when the lotus blossomed, swayambu, the Self-Existent One, would spontaneously reveal itself as flames of five colours from the lotus. And it happened that when the root took hold and grew and blossomed, another Buddha, the Sikhi Buddha, came and sat down to meditate by the lake. Sikhi Buddha plunged into the water and was absorbed in the spirit of the Self-Existent One. Many years later, Visambhu Buddha arrived at the lake. He prophesied, "A Bodhisattva shall come and let the water out of the lake and this will become a wonderful place to live and a place for pilgrims and tourists. And one day it happened. The Bodhisattva Manjushri heard about this mystical lake of the Self-Existent One. He journeyed from his home in China and with his sword he cut through the hill at Chobar gorge and drained the lake into the Bagmati river. The stupa of Swayambunath is at the top of the hill where the lotus first took root and flowered and burst into colorful flames.

Swayambu also has another name, 'The Monkey Temple.' This is because monkeys live all over the hill where the stupa is. The monkeys usually sit peacefully picking through each others fur, or scavenging for food among the leaves. Sometimes pilgrims or villagers come and feed the monkeys which causes the monkeys to chase one another around noisily, especially if they think that one of their friends has found a tasty morsel and isn't sharing it.

My companion Bishow and I had a happy long walk on a beautiful warm day to the foot of the hill of Swayambunath. We had come to find the stone carvers who are usually all up and down and around the 300 steps that lead to the stupa at the top. Buddhist pilgrims who take long journeys to important Buddhist holy places will often carve prayers into stones that they find along their journey. I have seen them carrying large stones on their heads as they travel to a temple, and when they arrive they place the stone as a tribute to their faith somewhere near the stupa. On each stone is usually written the mantra, "Om Mani Padme Hum," which means " A Jewel in a Lotus," and this is the most common expression of Buddhist enlightenment.

It was not long after tourists arrived at Swayambu that the stones began to disappear from the stupa. And soon the entrepreneurs who lived in the area started a new kind of business. The stone carvers who lived near the stupa were some of the poorest of the poor in the Kingdom. With nothing to sell but rocks, they took nails and carved stones that they found on the ground or in the river bed. Then with a marker, they decorated the prayers, and they began to sell their prayer stones to the treasure hunters, like myself. Bishow and I climbed step over step and every stone carver we met had a more beautifully carved stone than the one before. And the higher we went the more spectacular the carved images of compassionate eyes and Buddha, and dragons, all with the mantra inscribed on the back. Finally about 200 steps up we had a large bag full of heavy prayer stones which Bishow generously carried for me.

It was at this time that I caught sight of a large old monkey with bushy gray hair and only one good eye. That ugly monkey was looking at us, and then at me. When our eyes met, I knew right away that he had spotted our bag and must have thought that something very tasty could be in that bag. So I turned to Bishow and said quietly, "Put down the bag." But Bishow does not always understand what I say and so he pulled the bag closer to his body and held it more tightly. The one eyed-monkey got mad at me for apparently not wanting to share with him. Before I took another step, he ran over and grabbed my thigh just above my knee and gave me a good hard bite. That made me mad. I raised my hand and smacked that monkey on the side of his head, very hard on his ear. He took off running into the woods. Bishow and I stood for a moment looking at the blood dripping down my leg.

Bishow was dreadfully concerned for my well being. "Monkey has poison on the tooth," he said. So when we got to the top of the steps we sat down and he decided that he must try to suck the poison out of my leg. I was not so sure that this was a good idea, but he was so concerned and so persistent, that I let him try to suck the blood from my leg. You must understand that it is a sin for a Hindu man to sit next to a married woman. For him to lift my short skirt and put his lips to the bare leg of a married woman must have been an awful sin.

When I stopped bleeding, we walked down the back side of Swayambu thinking that we would stop and buy some iodine or alcohol for the wound. But there was the strike. Nothing was open, no drugstore nor clinic, not anything. That is when I became very sad. I was thinking of you, and of your father, and I began to cry. Bishow thought that I was in pain, but I wasn't. I was just very, very sad that I might not be able to get back to my family and be the healthy mother that I was when I left. I was sad because I missed you terribly. We walked for more than an hour back to the hotel, hoping that something might be open. But nothing was open. When I got to the hotel, I ordered a whiskey and poured it on my leg. Every thing turned out fine. I returned home with my treasures to sell and here I am to tell the tale.

And the moral of the story is that sometimes you just have to spank the one-eyed monkey.

All true. I swear.

Haunted Bells and Bowls

In the center is the spooky bell about which I have written. To the left is a statue of Manjushri. To the rear is my personal singing bowl. I have never met a person who could not play this bowl. Far right is something for my writer friends. It is an old Nepalese ink well. My kid's crystals and rocks are also lying about. (click to enlarge)


Top of the Bell

I have a new treasure in my collection. It is a creepy looking bell from a temple in India. One of my customers brought it and left it with me at a trade show. It seems odd to me that people would give ritual objects to me as I am selling so many of these things myself. But there are occasionally people who would like to get rid of a statue or some object that bothers them. They believe that I would either appreciate the beauty of the item, or that I can handle the malevolent energy that they associate with it. I tend to believe that objects only have the power that a person gives them. Fear magnifies and makes real the ghosts that would haunt a person.

Shortly after I received the temple bell, an Indian couple came to my table. The man said, "I know what that is. How much do you want for it?" Since I paid nothing for the bell. I said, "How much you pay?" Which is exactly what I hear so often while I am shopping in Nepal. It is a great way to get a commitment out of your buyer. While he was considering his offer carefully, a woman came to look at my singing bowls and I shifted into story telling mode.

"These bowls are used by the Buddhist monks in Nepal. They chant prayers for peace into them and the harmony of the bowl gives a tone to the prayer and helps to amplify the energy. The prayers are for peace and the enlightenment of all sentient beings. I find that people who do Reiki can often feel a great deal of energy when they encounter the bowls. Their arms float up and down as they feel the perimeters of the energy coming from a singing bowl." I said, in my well rehearsed way.

"I do Reiki," the woman said. " I know." I told her. Her eyes widened and she looked impressed by my psychic abilities. She and her friends had been hovering around my table earlier and talking about Reiki. I guess she didn't know that I was listening.

I picked up a bowl with a deep smooth resonance and told her to think of global peace while I played the bowl for her. She put her hands above the bowl. "Oh yeah! Oh wow, I can really feel that," she said.

The Indian man was still looking at the temple bell, turning it over and over and considering his offer. His wife was carefully selecting rudraksha beads, 'literally the tears of Rudra,' (a seed, which supposedly cures you of all kinds of sins). She asked me if they were real and where I got them. I described a shop near Freak Street in Kathmandu, Nepal, and that seemed to convince her of their authenticity.

I turned back to the woman admiring the singing bowls. "Can you tell me more about them?" She queried.

"I deal in mostly used bowls and often you will find the names of the bowls' former owners scratched into the edge of the bowls. Once, there was a woman who returned to thank me for a bowl saying that the bowl she bought from me came with three spectral monks. Presumably, these were the former owners," I said. "And then, when I lived in Maryland, I had a wall in my basement that was devoted to hundreds of singing bowls. One day, a friend of mine was in our house alone and she said that she heard some of the bowls singing by themselves downstairs."

"Have you seen ghosts and heard the bowls singing on their own?" she asked.

"No, but one day I played the bowls at a shop in Columbus, Ohio, for hours and hours. It was a festival and people would press their faces to the glass of the store and kept coming in to shop as long as I played the bowls. That night after I went to sleep, a large singing bowl appeared at the bottom of my bed and it began to chant a deep "OM." Three gnarled women's hands reached up out of the bowl and I could feel their claws dig into my calf muscle as they started to drag me off of my bed and into the bowl. I awoke, startled by the dream." I said. "But the bowl dealers in Nepal assured me that my vision was an auspicious event."

Everyone at my table was quiet and looking at me now.

"Sometimes people bring me interesting things at these shows." I filled the silence. "Like this bell here." I don't know much about it. I do know that it doesn't look like anything that I have seen in Nepal and there is an I-Ching coin tied to it, which is kind of strange. Maybe the woman who gave it to me thought it was haunted or something, so she gave it to me."

The Indian woman looked at her husband and said, "You are not bringing that bell into our house!"

Perhaps I said too much. I didn't sell the bell or the bowl, only a few rudraksha, but I had a great time telling the stories!