Yael Falicov, IDEX's Director of Programs is spending New Year visiting IDEX partners and grantees in Nepal and Bangladesh. Her first blog gives her initial impressions of Nepal and the New Year to come!
Hi Everyone,
I'm writing from Kathmandu, Nepal on New Year's Eve in a hotel in the raucous tourist district of Thamel, with salsa and electronica blaring out of the nearby bars and clubs.
Whew. What a way to usher out 2007. Where to start? So many things to tell you, and I've been here for little more than 24 hours. I am a bit giddy from everything and perhaps a bit incoherent so feel free to skim, I won't be offended in the least.
In the morning we had a long office meeting with one of the groups we began funding recently, ASHA Nepal. After hearing a lot so far about the NGO 'business' as a money maker for the elites, I am happy to confirm that they are quite legitimate in their commitment. I was pretty impressed overall, and am looking forward to our field visit to the villages tomorrow, where we will be meeting with indigenous Tamang women participating in sustainable agriculture projects through their savings and credit group.
In the afternoon we ate momos (Nepali fast food: delicious dumplings stuffed with chicken and buffalo meat - so much for my vegetarian leanings!) and then the ASHA board chair Amod took us on a tour of perhaps the most prominent Hindu temple, where his uncle is a head priest. Interestingly, though he comes from the Brahmin (priest) caste and a very devout family, Amod himself is not religious. A public health professional, he seems more drawn to the temple of academia and the scripture of peer-reviewed journals.
As non-Hindus cannot enter the sacred areas, we instead climbed the hill above the temple, passing many small structures carved with some very sexually explicit images - whoa! Here, the ascetics (sadus) hang out and inhale gangha, the god Shiva's favorite smoke. As we climbed the steep path surrounded by chattering rhesus monkeys, one toothless sadu with a grizzled, a friendly face and tattered orange robes said in perfect colloquial English, "Welcome! Hey, you are about to get a GREAT view." Exchange the robes for jeans and the monkeys for gutter punks, and we could have been on Haight Street in San Francisco.
At the summit we looked down on the banks of the river at the smoking funeral pyres of the dead, where family members gathered to watch their loved ones pass on to another life. Creation, destruction: it's all out in the open here.
From the temple we walked down the hill over a sewage-strewn river and took at taxi where we witnessed sunset at the other-worldly Bouda stupa, which I recognized from photos that my parents took on their visit here over two decades ago. At this Buddhist shrine, the massive painted eyes of the Buddha stare out at the crowd of hundreds who are circling clockwise in worship. Flowers bloom on the steps and small wooden troughs feed the black pigeons roosting on the golden steeple above the Buddha's knowing stare. Around the shrine are small rooms, some of which contain massive golden prayer wheels spinning at top speed. I was told it is good luck to walk with the wheel, so I made my turn in a few times. In one room, I almost ran over the caretaker, who is just about two feet tall and was sweeping away ashes with a twig broom.
About a dozen worshippers, both Nepali and Western, some with shaved heads, prostrate themselves thousands of times daily on wooden mats in front of the shrine. Just across the road, next to internet cafes, restaurants and shops brimming with hippie tourist tchotchkes like Tibetan singing bowls and sand paintings of mandalas, there are sacred temples painted with elaborate murals. In return for putting small change in a collection box, a priest doused my forehead with holy water and waived incense, chanting methodically near a massive golden Buddha as images of fierce Tibetan monsters stared at me from above. In the still air, women in saris prayed silently.
Even Amod, a professed non-believer, comes to this place when he feels troubled. Although only something like 20% of Nepalis are Buddhist, he explained that the Hindus are also Buddhist. Perhaps it this is why Buddhism has permeated the whole society. I can understand why.
Staring at the familiar images, I was flooded with memories of my Dad, who explored Tibetan Buddhism late in his short life. Tears overwhelmed me as gave thanks silently for life and for all the ways he and Mom deliberately exposed me to other cultures and opened my mind to the world. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.
Happy New Year to everyone! I hope to write more soon -
Yael
Hi Everyone,
I'm writing from Kathmandu, Nepal on New Year's Eve in a hotel in the raucous tourist district of Thamel, with salsa and electronica blaring out of the nearby bars and clubs.
Whew. What a way to usher out 2007. Where to start? So many things to tell you, and I've been here for little more than 24 hours. I am a bit giddy from everything and perhaps a bit incoherent so feel free to skim, I won't be offended in the least.
In the morning we had a long office meeting with one of the groups we began funding recently, ASHA Nepal. After hearing a lot so far about the NGO 'business' as a money maker for the elites, I am happy to confirm that they are quite legitimate in their commitment. I was pretty impressed overall, and am looking forward to our field visit to the villages tomorrow, where we will be meeting with indigenous Tamang women participating in sustainable agriculture projects through their savings and credit group.
In the afternoon we ate momos (Nepali fast food: delicious dumplings stuffed with chicken and buffalo meat - so much for my vegetarian leanings!) and then the ASHA board chair Amod took us on a tour of perhaps the most prominent Hindu temple, where his uncle is a head priest. Interestingly, though he comes from the Brahmin (priest) caste and a very devout family, Amod himself is not religious. A public health professional, he seems more drawn to the temple of academia and the scripture of peer-reviewed journals.
As non-Hindus cannot enter the sacred areas, we instead climbed the hill above the temple, passing many small structures carved with some very sexually explicit images - whoa! Here, the ascetics (sadus) hang out and inhale gangha, the god Shiva's favorite smoke. As we climbed the steep path surrounded by chattering rhesus monkeys, one toothless sadu with a grizzled, a friendly face and tattered orange robes said in perfect colloquial English, "Welcome! Hey, you are about to get a GREAT view." Exchange the robes for jeans and the monkeys for gutter punks, and we could have been on Haight Street in San Francisco.
At the summit we looked down on the banks of the river at the smoking funeral pyres of the dead, where family members gathered to watch their loved ones pass on to another life. Creation, destruction: it's all out in the open here.
From the temple we walked down the hill over a sewage-strewn river and took at taxi where we witnessed sunset at the other-worldly Bouda stupa, which I recognized from photos that my parents took on their visit here over two decades ago. At this Buddhist shrine, the massive painted eyes of the Buddha stare out at the crowd of hundreds who are circling clockwise in worship. Flowers bloom on the steps and small wooden troughs feed the black pigeons roosting on the golden steeple above the Buddha's knowing stare. Around the shrine are small rooms, some of which contain massive golden prayer wheels spinning at top speed. I was told it is good luck to walk with the wheel, so I made my turn in a few times. In one room, I almost ran over the caretaker, who is just about two feet tall and was sweeping away ashes with a twig broom.
About a dozen worshippers, both Nepali and Western, some with shaved heads, prostrate themselves thousands of times daily on wooden mats in front of the shrine. Just across the road, next to internet cafes, restaurants and shops brimming with hippie tourist tchotchkes like Tibetan singing bowls and sand paintings of mandalas, there are sacred temples painted with elaborate murals. In return for putting small change in a collection box, a priest doused my forehead with holy water and waived incense, chanting methodically near a massive golden Buddha as images of fierce Tibetan monsters stared at me from above. In the still air, women in saris prayed silently.
Even Amod, a professed non-believer, comes to this place when he feels troubled. Although only something like 20% of Nepalis are Buddhist, he explained that the Hindus are also Buddhist. Perhaps it this is why Buddhism has permeated the whole society. I can understand why.
Staring at the familiar images, I was flooded with memories of my Dad, who explored Tibetan Buddhism late in his short life. Tears overwhelmed me as gave thanks silently for life and for all the ways he and Mom deliberately exposed me to other cultures and opened my mind to the world. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.
Happy New Year to everyone! I hope to write more soon -
Yael
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