It is now the year 2071. Today is the Nepali New Year. We celebrated by making a small pilgrimage to a Hindu temple. We had to take a bus down the main road out of town. While walking to the bus, there was a "shuttle" driving by our clinic. This happens every so often as a local driver drives up and down the road. I think he must drive fairly long distances, because the vehicle was packed. We ended up having to sit on the roof for a couple miles, feeling every one of the many bumps on our local road. When we reached the main road, hopping into another crowded bus was a chore. Physically, it was hard to squeeze in. There was no one on the roof, but lining the sides were passengers hanging on for dear life. It was hot and sweaty and we rode for a couple of hours. Somehow Loxmi and Yamuna knew where to get off, because if you asked me, our stop looked like any other, and there are never any signs in sight. We then proceeded to walk down a dirt road by huts with children playing in a stream. This took about an hour and a half. Considering I had no idea how long this journey was, I was ill prepared for the lack of water and increasing thirst. As cruel fate would have it, we came upon a clear wide, easy flowing river of water I could not consume. In this water were hundreds of Hindus offering colorful decorated rocks to the liquid. We did the same, decorating our stone with red and yellow paints and perching it upon a larger river bed rock with its apex exposed and dry. Walking along the water edge another half of one mile, an ornate building boasting gold and red curves came into sight. Removing our shoes allowed us entry. In the coming room there was a man with dreadlocks swirled into his beard and beaded necklaces hanging from his neck. His eyes spoke of ages with stories of mischief and wisdom. His red robes preached humility and prestige. Like the building surrounding us, his balding head was red and yellow. He greeted us like all others do, with kindness and a bow. After he put a tika (the red and yellow paint) on my forehead we laughed at our broad and cumbersome language barrier. The priest showed us prayers before we rang bells to call the gods to listen. The journey to get to our pilgrimage destination was much longer than our stay, but it was a fulfilling and certainly fun experience.
Cheers,
Dan
