Bhaktapur is a small artisan town that has retained all its historical charm.
There is an authentic “je-ne sais-quoi” that transports us to medieval times.
The buildings in old rosy bricks harmonize perfectly with the cobbled streets. The woodwork of the doors and windows are magnificent and renowned throughout the country, as well as pottery. These handicrafts are handed down from generation to generation.
I felt like I was in the middle of a theatrical setting with the only difference that the action was not on the stage, but all around with actors to welcome me.
Let me take you there.
Tihar Festival
I arrived in Bhaktapur in the heart of the Tihar Festival, one of the most important Hindu ceremonies in the country. The contrast with the Buddhist environment of Boudhanath‘s stupa was striking. Here there are neither monks nor prayer wheels, but Hindus are equally pious and fascinating to observe in their rites.
The festivities had begun the day before. I had had a glimpse in Boudhanath the day the dogs were blessed with tika powder and marigold flowers. They were so cute to look at! Someone explained to me that this Festival is an opportunity to show respect not only to people and deities, but also to animals that play an important role in our daily lives.
It felt like the holiday season. The central place called the Durbar Square was packed with merchants with their displays of fruits and vegetables, sweets, different colors of tika to draw the mandalas on the pavement, posters of Hindu deities and plenty of red and green necklaces and bracelets.
At nightfall, the merchants were still there in the dim light of small lamps placed here and there. Young children were passing by with a tray to collect money in exchange of sacred chants. In the background was playing a strong Nepalese music to add to the already festive atmosphere.
In the small adjacent streets, floated a romantic feeling with the butter lamps placed on the ground. Colorful mandalas drawn before the entrance of some shops and guesthouses added a touch of magic. Vendors were particularly friendly. “Madam, please come have a look, Tonigh, special prize because of the Festival. Please, buy for good luck (and for good karma)!”
Friendliest card seller
I stopped to a shop run by one of the friendliest vendors I have met in Nepal. He greeted me in a friendly way with his warmest smile. He was selling handmade paper, postcards and notebooks. As I usually send postcards from every country I visit to my family, it was an opportunity to buy them.
He began to explain to me the eight symbols of good luck that I noticed everywhere afterwards. He told me about the Festival, the highest Himalayan mountains by showing me a picture of each one using his postcards … I learned more about Nepal by spending an hour with him than a week in the country! Listening to him made me wanting to write stories about people of Nepal.
When his daughter arrived, he quickly asked her to take a picture of us.
On the following days, I made it my duty to go and see him for a chat. Whenever I was coming later than usual or I had skipped a day, he was telling that he had waiting for me. I really enjoyed his company. It was like going to visit an uncle who always has plenty of stories to tell.
Magic faded by the cold and a flu
I realized that I appreciate these magic moments even more today.
I have not talked too much about it yet, but the cold weather really put me down for a good part of my stay in Nepal. In the evening and early morning, the mercury could go down to 7 degrees in the valley of Kathmandu.
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In restaurants and cafes I was fascinated to see the waiters working with their branded jacket “North Face”, a replica made in the country at a lower cost. I had to buy one to survive and I wore it to brush my teeth, eat and even sleep.
This abrupt change of temperature affected my immune system (and my temper). Flu symptoms had started tickling me a few days before, but they were now screaming! Heavy head, dizziness, chills, muscular pain, runny nose … all paired with a diarrhea and a cold sore! It was the first time I was in such a bad shape on a trip. Even though I was missing the tropical nights of Bali, I knew that my body was experiencing major changes and all I had to do was to accept it. The flu lasted for almost all the rest of my stay, three weeks.
Massive earthquake
It was not only the cold that affected me. To see the city still under the rubble of the massive 7.8 magnitude earthquake that struck Nepal in 2015 was a shock. Several important aftershocks were felt the following days. It was their most powerful earthquake since 1934.
The old town is protected by the UNESCO because of its architectural richness. Several monuments are hidden by bamboo scaffolding.
Certain corners of the city seemed to have been bombed as if the country were coming out of a war.
Support beams are installed throughout the buildings.
More than a year later, the reconstruction has not yet started. The poverty of the country doesn’t help. Some say the authorities are simply unable to cope with the extent of the damage. Nepal is also paralyzed by corruption and a heavy bureaucracy.
I had a thought for Haiti that holds a precious place in my heart. I collaborated in a major reconstruction initiative with members of the Haitian diaspora after the earthquake that destroyed Port-au-Prince in 2010. Two very different countries that are struggling to recover from a powerful “goudou goudou “, a term used by Haitians to describe “this event that changed our lives. ”
Nepalese say that the Gods express themselves through nature. The earthquake is seen as a warning, a kind of wake-up call for humanity.
In the heart of a family
When I returned to Bhaktapur at the end of my stay in the country, the town was much quieter. The Festival was over. I was looking forward to returning to a place I know. Some vendors recognized me, which gave me the feeling of living there instead of being a tourist in town for the day. I spent most of my days returning to see the people I had met on my first visit. Among them was Rasmila, a 28-year-old woman who works in a shop and thangka school where girls learn to paint the famous mandalas.
Rasmila immediately considered me as a sister. When I visited her at the shop, she always offered me some of her food and wanted to take pictures of us. When I was passing by when she was not there, her boss would call her and hand me the phone: “Wait for me, I’m coming!”, she was saying all happy. This instant friendship surprised me and nurtured me.
I went to her house the last night I was in Bhaktapur. Since she is not yet married, she lives with her parents and one of her brothers whom I did not meet.
The guest is very important to them. So it is not customary to help in the kitchen. Sitting at the table, I watched and asked her about the basic ingredients she used: garlic, salt, ginger, chilies, coriander and a mixture of spices containing turmeric. Omelette, spicy tomato sauce, vegetables and of course some rice that they eat up to three times a day. They eat with their right hand like about everywhere in this part of the world.
His dad ate with us in silence. I felt privileged to have access to their daily life though slightly shy. While I was saying to Rasmila that I was flattered by her generosity, she told me that I did not have to thank her, that it was just normal, Nepalese are like that!
After the meal, Rasmila wanted to show me her photo album. We settled in bed, the blanket folded over our feet to warm up. Her dad joined us as did her mother beautifully dressed in a red sari. She had just attended a ceremony.
We were all sitting in lotus position in the bed with our jackets on and the blanket on our feet. They started to recounted their day like they do every night. They were talking in Nepali so I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I found them beautiful and inspiring. A nice united family. One of those magical moments to be a spectator.
You are beautiful
During their exchange, the mother was looking at me with a tender smile. She would have liked me to stay for the night and even for a few days her daughter translated. “My mother is saying that you are beautiful Nathalie …” They were telling me that “I look so young and not to worry, that I still have time to find my husband!….”
Words that I have heard often since I’m on the road. Sometimes I respond by laughing or smiling, other times I take it more seriously. Occasionally, I can feel a certain sadness in their eyes. Or was it my own sadness on that particular day that they were reflecting back to me… To travel alone without a husband or children and away from my family is very far from their values.
But each time I reply with my sparkling eyes and my most beautiful smile that I know that the Universe will put my future husband on my road at the right time. Until then, I am grateful for my life and for the woman I am becoming. I have faith in all aspects of my life.
My answer that night in Bhaktapur received their agreement and blessing, as it does each time.
Happiness and serenity,
Nathalie
