If I ever get out of here, I'm going to Kathmandu

Kathmandu is the capital of Nepal, its largest city and home to its main international airport. Based on that alone, I should have plenty to say about this bustling place. However, things kind of went sideways during one of my visits. 

I was actually there twice. Once, for a day after my time in Chitwan and again, after my visit to Bhutan. At some point in between those two stays, I ate something that showed great determination in its efforts to kill me. I'm pretty fortunate in that I rarely get sick, whether at home or abroad but every now and then, that luck runs out and this was that time. As a result, I didn't do nearly as many things as I would have liked.

The first stay was great. Kathmandu, particularly the Thamel area, has some great nightlife with plenty of rooftop bars, live music and cheap drinks. 

Once you make peace with the fact that you will at all times be sharing the road with cars, motorcycles, scooters, stray dogs and other pedestrians, it is also surprisingly walkable. Joined by Louise, a fellow traveler I met in Chitwan, we did the 40 minute walk from Thamel to the Swayambuhunath Temple, followed by a 365 step climb. 

Why would we do that? For one, the views over Kathmandu valley, even on a foggy day, are pretty stupendous. Granted, as I have mentioned before, there are no bad views in Nepal. Being surrounded by the Himalayas will do that to a country.

But more importantly, it is also known as the Monkey Temple and with good reason. They are simply everywhere. There are so many of them that they even have an origin story. The story involves Manjushree, a Buddhist holy man, who while trying to raise the hill that now houses the temple, refused to cut his hair. His grooming habits must have left a bit to be desired because he came down with a nasty case of lice. Those lice wanted more out of life so they jumped off of his head and transformed themselves into monkeys. True story or cautionary tale for children who don't want to wash their hair? Who knows. Point is there are a lot of monkeys at this temple. 

They wander freely around the complex which features a gold-plated stupa, many smaller temples and all the souvenir stands you could ever dream of. 

It was truly a one-stop shop. You could admire the culture while watching people worship. You could (and I did) do most of your xmas shopping. You could take in the view. Or you could just grab a seat and watch a bunch of playful monkeys.  I liked this place so much that I went twice, although the second time, post-sickness, there was an Uber involved. 

Another place I visited twice was Kathmandu's Durban Square. Compared to Bhaktapur's Durban Square, it wasn't as impressive but still offered a lot to see. 

On my second visit, I lucked out by arriving in time to see the Kumari. In related news, I also learned what a Kumari is. Or more accurately, who the Kumari is. She is a living goddess who is considered sacred and is worshipped by the Newari people. All of that is well and good but the process of choosing the Kumari is really kind of awful. Young girls from a specific Newar caste are judged on a number of crazy beauty standards. They look for things such as (and I swear all of this is true): A neck like a conch shell,  body like a banyan tree, eyelashes like a cow, thighs like a deer, chest like a lion and voice as soft and clear as a duck's. Once they find the ideal candidate, they put the child through some pretty horrific tests. She must spend a night alone in a room with 108 recently slaughtered goat and buffalo heads and not show any fear. If she cries, the selection process begins anew. Seriously, wtf?!

Once she is named the Kumari, she is placed in the palace and is only allowed to leave for ceremonial purposes. It gets weirder. Her feet must no longer touch the ground so she is transported everywhere on a golden palanquin. As part of her duties, she makes a daily appearance on her balcony so that worshippers can pray to her. She only stays for a minute or so but her demeanor is closely watched. If she remains calm and impassive, that means your wishes will be granted. Conversely, if she laughs or cries, that foretells a death or serious illness. On the day I saw her, she was cool as a cucumber, which seems to have worked. I can't speak for anyone else but I can attest that my plea of "please don't let me shit myself in this square" was indeed granted. 

She remains the Kumari until she has her first period, at which time, she reverts to mere mortal status and is removed from the palace and the only life she has known. Many of them have to relearn to walk since their legs muscles have atrophied. To top it all off,  it is believed that any man who marries a former Kumari will die within a year so good luck on Tinder with that one. 

All religion, by its nature, is pretty goofy but this poor kid really didn't get a say in any of this. I'm grateful to have been able to see her but overall, I just left feeling sad for this child. 

Moving on to the rest of the square, the pass that gets you in gives you access not just to the Kumari's house but also to a number of museums, mainly dedicated to the royal family. 

I wasn't much in a museum mindset so I went through them pretty quickly, preferring to watch a ceremony unfold at a nearby temple.

On my other days, there were a total of 3 the second time around, I pretty much laid low and tried to stay hydrated. On one of my few outings, I visited the Garden of Dreams, which is basically a nice municipal park with a cover charge. It was one of the few quiet places in the city so maybe that is where the dream part comes in but otherwise, it was nothing special. 

I was much more fascinated by the Boudhanath Stupa. It is one of the largest stupas, or commemorative monument containing religious relics, in the world and has been named a UNESCO world heritage site. 

It is also a major pilgrimage site for Tibetan Buddhists. At the time of my visit, there were hundreds of worshippers walking clockwise (it's always clockwise) around the Stupa. 

I joined them, walking around a couple of times before finding a rooftop restaurant from which to watch the procession. 

I had hoped to also make it out to the nightly Aarti (or cremation) ceremony but I was usually in bed by early evening. Bishwo, the owner of my hostel in Bhaktapur and guide extraordinaire came to visit and offered to take me there on his bike but I just didn't have the energy at that point. That plus Kathmandu drivers are no joke, no way was I getting on a bike there. 

 It does suck that I didn't get to do everything I'd hoped but in three weeks time, I had seen plenty of Nepal. I'd come to love this beautiful wildly scenic country and its warm welcoming people. I leave most places hoping to return but here I really mean it. In retrospect, that's probably what I should have asked the Kumari for.