Saturday 27 April 2013
Bhaktapur and the Garden of Dreams
Saturday 27th April
In the Kathmandu Post today, there was a picture of another rain god being given a ritual bath, so we were half expecting rain. Instead it was very hot, Ajaya said over 30 degrees. He was taking us on a trip to Bhaktapur, a medieval town and a world heritage site. It was about half an hour's drive away along one of the major highways, which did not stop three cows from ambling along in the fast lane.
Bhaktapur was established in the 9th century and was the capital of Nepal for several hundred years. It is supposed to be laid out like a pigeon in flight and Hindus and Buddhists have coexisted peacefully since its foundation. There are therefore many temples from each religion. The main square is made up of the Palace of 55 windows, with the windows carved intricately in dark wood and originally 99 courtyards. There is a golden gate leading to a Hindu temple which only Hindus are allowed to enter, so we had to be content with squinting through a tiny door. We were however allowed into the water tank, where the kings took a ritual bath to purify themselves before going to pray. In the centre of the square is a large, several storey temple and alongside the palace, yet another temple with stone steps and different animals decorating them. On the bottom step is a female goddess holding a baby learning to walk and a chained lion. In one of the other squares we found a palace, where one of the kings who lived there, had very bad dreams. His astrologer told him that a very powerful goddess, Bhairv, was causing these dreams. So, he built a temple with 5 storeys and 5 layers of steps leading up to it. Each of the layers of steps is guarded by a different set of stone statues - warriors, elephants, lions, griffins and I forget the other one, which is annoying as each layer is 5 times more powerful than the one below. So there is an awful lot of power going on there.
But what was equally interesting was to see the daily lives of peasant business men being lived out there in the same way as it has been for centuries (in some aspects). Because Bhaktapur is built on a hill, the women still collect water from large wells but in polythene containers now, the mothers still wash their children in a basin outside their house and oil the baby's hair with mustard seed oil. We saw women winnowing coriander seeds and drying mustard seeds, radish seeds, ginger roots etc. The old women in traditional black skirts with red braid sat chatting in the narrow streets and were happy to show us the traditional tattoos on the back of their ankles. Barbara felt obliged to show hers on her shoulder. The men sat reading the paper or chatting or wandering about in their traditional hats. There were of course many souvenir shops to which we did fall prey but what really amazed me was the language ability of the children who were very savvy indeed. One boy of about 10 or 11 asked me where I was from. By saying England, I became a target as his English was excellent. "Do you like Nepal? Are you enjoying your holiday?" " Yes, yes so I am now owing him morally, so I say quickly, as instructed by our guide, " I don't have any money to give you. "Oh", he says, insulted, "I don't want money. Money is not good for children". My mouth drops open. "No", he says "But I would like a book." "I haven't got a book". "I know a good book shop over there". "Ah, but you would go back and sell it back to the shop". No, no," he says "you can write your name in the book you buy for me". "Oh" says I "You are a true pro. Beggar off before I tell your mum".
This evening we went to the Garden of Dreams which is through a gate off a main road and into a different world. Beautiful, manicured lawns, flower beds with calla lilies, petunias, snapdragons, busy lizzies, water lilies in the ponds. Palm trees full of songbirds and a lovely pavilion like the Orangerie in Kensington Gardens, which served ridiculously expensive wine. But it was heaven. We stayed sipping our wine until it went dark when a man with a long pole with a flame on the end, lit floating lights on the lilly pond.
I would just like to say here that I have contributed to the local economy by buying cheap jewellery at inflated tourist prices, masks of the god Ganesh, a top which the man said he exported to Zara etc so I feel I did my bit for the people of Bhaktapur.
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