I must talk for a moment about the Kumari (living goddess) phenomenon of the Kathmandu Valley. On my first night in Nepal I was lucky enough to see the most important Kumari, (the "Royal Kumari") in Kathmandu. We went into the courtyard of her "palace" in Durbar Square and she came to the pane less window (on the second floor) and solemnly looked at us and other visitors for a couple of minutes. The next tourists that came just after us weren't so lucky.
Most historians think Kumari worship started sometime in the 17th century, and there are multiple competing myths that explain why this custom popped up, one is that one of the kings of Nepal would consult with the goddess Teleju, they would place dice together and she would give him advice, and one night the queen discovered them together, didn't recognize the goddess and became jealous, Teleju was so offended she said she would never come back, but after much pleading from the king she said she would come in the form of a young virgin girl (that was from a certain caste, and had 32 odd physical characteristics, like the body of a banyan tree).
So the Kumaris are usually chosen around age 3 or 4 and retain their divine status until around the age of 12. Supposedly they can not be the Kumari anymore when they first shed blood (i.e. a major cut or menstruation) but I read part of a book about an ex-Kumari called "From Goddess to Mortal: The True Life Story of a Royal Kumari" (as told by Rashmila Shakya, the former goddess, written by Scott Berry) and Rashmila said that their replacements are automatically looked for when they are around 12 years of age, regardless of blood loss.
The Kumaris can almost never leave their living quarters, only during certain festivals. They have many restrictions, for example when they eat certain foods such as cooked rice they must eat alone in a secluded area that is just for them. They can however make anyone around them do whatever they want, no one can argue with a goddess!
Many people come to them daily to ask for healing for themselves or especially for their children. The interesting thing to to me was that when Rashmila was Kumari she was absolutely confident that she could heal or help people in other ways if she so desired. Tell a kid that they are divine before they are even forming recollectable memories and they will think they are divine! But who am I to say that they're not.
The Kumaris wear all red, their hair up in a tight bun, and cat-like eye makeup.
Ohh and I said earlier that I would write about getting sick, it doesn't seem all that interesting to me now though. The day that preceded the evening I got sick I was walking around Kathmandu drinking fresh juices (made with pre-cut fruit, a big no-no!) and I ate some uncooked sliced vegetables that accompanied my meal. The problem with these is that they often have very contaminated water on them, or flys have landed on them that have previously landed on very unpleasant things such as feces. Almost all tap water and other water there that has not been filtered is very polluted, someone told me to think of it as sewage.
I am not use to being that careful about what I eat when I travel, but I quickly learned that in South Asia I need to be.
I got that full, nausicous feeling when I was doing email that evening, got to my room just in time to dump my dirty clothes out of my plastic laundry bag, and then promptly filled the bag with my stomach stew. I had to run down the hall to the shared bathroom fairly often all through the night, (poor people in the room next to the bathroom). In the morning I thought I was better but decided I shouldn't meet with my friend Tenzin's family friend for breakfast as I didn't think I could eat, I went to the reception desk at the hotel to call her, while I was on the phone I vomited again, passed out into my vomit (just like all the greats! Hendrix, Janis Joplin and many others), split my lip, and came to with hotel staff around me saying "hospital, hospital."
I had walked downstairs with no money or I.D. and the hotel (a budget hotel, nothing fancy) gave me money out of the till to pay for the hospital (I paid them back later of course) and then they took me I think in the hotel van to the hospital. A waiter from the hotel restaurant sat with me to make sure I didn't pass out again, then he stayed with me for several hours at the hospital, took care of the paperwork, got me bananas and water. It was so sweet. I had never talked to him and had just stayed at the hotel one night, it was amazing how much they looked after me and I don't think they expected anything in return. In Nepal (as in India) the "guest is god."
The hospital was a little cold and drafty, there was a huge opening out to the parking area, and by U.S. standards was pretty dingy (smudged walls, out-dated looking). But the care was good. Everyone spoke excellant English. There were a few other patients in the area I was in (the ER? I'm not sure) one old lady with a sari on kept walking out and then stumbling back in, sometimes grasping my bed for support.
I remember feeling so cold, alone, and uncomfortable. I thought about ripping the IV out of my arm and walking back to the hotel, which was very close. (the IV was to rehydrate me in case anyone was wondering)
And then (as I mentioned in another entry) Kareen (Tenzin's family friend, an American) came to the hospital and rescued me, it was so nice, she asked the staff what they had done for me so far, she has lived in Nepal on and off for decades and knew exactly what I needed, it was very reassuring. We went back to the hotel, packed up my stuff and then we went to her comfortable home out in Patan, across the river from Kathmandu. Instead of a solitary, boring period of convalescence I enjoyed great company (Kareen and her husband Don and their two other house guests), and great food. They had endless entertaining stories about living in Nepal, and other places in Asia. From them and people I met through them I learned a lot about Nepali society and history. (Such as the fact that ready-made clothes have only become widely available and popular in the last 5 years, before that everything was tailored! A lot of clothes still are)
I have a lot of nice memories of Nepal, such as the welcome we (I was with the Australian/American woman I met at the aiport) got when we arrived at our first guest house, the staff introduced themselves, gave little speeches about how they could help us, they were so formal, yet friendly. I told one of them my plan was to ride a bus to India and he asked me "do you know what Nepal stands for?", I said no, and he said "Never Ending Peace and Love, please give us time to show you that".
There was the serious old man sitting in his hole-in-the-wall shop who I bought water from, who counted and recounted many times my change to make sure he was giving me back the right amount, then after that I walked away without the water. When I went back his shy laugh was priceless.
There was the afternoon I sat up on the 7 story rooftop Terrace of Helena's (a coffee shop/restaurant) and sat in the sun reading and enjoying chocolate cake, masala tea and 360 degree views of the city.
I'm sure I am forgetting some things but I think the only main thing left to mention about Nepal is the Daywalka Foundation visit.
Anyhow the internet place is closing, I'm still in Kolkata, have seen a lot of the city. Hopefully I'll have time to write about all that tomorrow.
Good night!
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