Despite my first impressions of Kathmandu, I was interested in seeing some of the local temples. This morning I decided to grab my map, put my walking shoes on, rally up my courage and hike to the Swayambhu stupa on the west side of town. I was happy to find out that once you left the touristy section of Thamel, the atmosphere relaxes quite a bit. You are still an object of curiosity, but people seem content to ponder from afar. The traffic seemed to decrease a bit too, but I still had to watch my step. On the way to the temple, I crossed the Bishnumati River. Someone later told me that this is the most polluted river in the world and I can believe it because it was covered in trash.
When I arrived at Swayambhu, my jaw dropped. I can see the stupa from my hotel room, so I knew that it was on a more elevated surface than Chhetrapati, but the staircase that led into the sky was awesome. No wonder people come here to worship. They found a spot that is so close to the heavens. The milky haze over Kathmandu valley was disappointing after climbing up to the stupa, but the monkeys offered a bit of entertainment. In their efforts to gather the rice that has been made in offering they have become fearless of tourists. I had one right in the sights of my camera. He had hit on a treasure trove of rice and was not about to be scared off of the sight. As I moved in, he turned towards me and gave me this, “what the hell are you looking at’ intimidating look and I completely flinched. He went back to his rice and I backed off, embarrassed that I had been faced by a monkey that was a quarter my size. It’s all in the attitude. I did a circuit around the stupa getting all of the drums a-spinning, and headed towards the staircase. While descending, I ran the gauntlet of hawkers who tried to sell me bracelets and stone carvings. I could have gotten a pretty decent price on a meditation bowl, but then I would have to carry it around.
Back at the hotel, I met a fellow from the UK named Carl. He said that if I thought Kathmandu was bad, then I was never to go to India, where he had just spent three months. We chatted for a while and he explained the scam behind the woman asking me to buy milk for her baby. Apparently, she gets an unwitting tourist to go a pay a fortune for milk at the market (where there are no prices on anything), then she takes the milk back to the market and the grocer gives her a cut. That’s pretty lousy, but I was thinking it was something more like I follow her into the market and someone clubs me over the head and takes everything I have. That’s why I didn’t buy her any lousy milk.
