Back in the Thamel District

I visited India and Nepal for the first time on a Buddhist pilgrimage led by Shantum Seth in 2007. The following is from my 2008 trip to India, Nepal, and Tibet. This excerpt is about Kathmandu, Nepal.

Stupas, a stray dog, and monkeys at Swayambhunath

After visiting the breathtaking Boudhanath and Swayambhunath temples, we returned to the Vaishali Hotel, and the travel agent Naresh told me that my visa and all would be ready at five pm. I was happy to hear this after all the waiting. We walked back to his office, Blue Bird Travel. With my terrible sense of direction, I still wasn’t entirely sure I could find it for myself later, so he said he’d go to the hotel rather than let me get lost looking for his office.

I’m eating lunch in the hotel restaurant. I ordered something experimental and, as it turns out, scrumptious: dumplings made from vegetables and nuts in a sauce reminiscent of hummus but more watery and hotter, with cilantro floating in it. I had two pieces of roti, which I broke up and dipped in the sauce. I asked for water because I wished to conserve my big bottle of water so it would last until the next morning (which it did). In hindsight, I should have purchased two bottles. The server brought a small glass of hot water.

Only two other patrons, both men, occupy the restaurant. One speaks fluent British English and the other is less coherent. The loquacious older one with the fluent English expresses a vehement anti-polyandry stance and criticism of women who sleep with more than one man… but oddly says nothing against polygamy or male promiscuity. Double standard much? He mentioned Elizabeth Taylor — saying she only has sex with men to whom she’s married, and says she slept with a lot of men, but she was also, I might mention, married to a lot of men. And what business is it of his how many people she or any other woman sleeps with?

At some point in the conversation, I heard him say, “You can criticize America,” and I sensed he believes promiscuity to be typical of American women but doesn’t care whether it’s typical of American men. Misogynists suck. I’ll bet he’d be shocked to learn that even in America, asexual people exist — but of course, most people don’t know that no matter where you are geographically.

A guardian spirit in front of the Vaishali Hotel in the Thamel District, Kathmandu

After lunch, I briefly attempted to nap in my room, but after fifteen minutes I decided to get up and go to a cybercafé while it’s sunny and the electricity is working. Impermanence.

I walked to the Internet café near the hotel, and the connection is unbelievably slow. It’s been ten minutes and I haven’t even accessed my email….

I logged on and was selecting addresses… and waited, thanks to the slow internet. And waited. I haven’t memorized all the email addresses of my former traveling companions, of course, and typing the first letter is usually enough for an address to pop up, but that stopped working. Next the screen went blank: the power is out, like yesterday. If it’s anything like yesterday, it won’t be back on for hours.

I was the last person in the café. I approached the boy (he looked like a teenager) who worked there. He didn’t understand what I meant when I asked how much I owe, or he didn’t want me to pay, which was a relief since I didn’t accomplish anything.

I wandered the streets of the Thamel and tried not to get lost this time. The shops did not put me into a shopping mood — only a gawking mood. I quickly dodged crazy noisy motorcycles that zoomed along. Too bad the streets of Thamel don’t have sidewalks… but I guess that’s a privileged attitude. I wandered the narrow streets for a while — probably not more than half an hour.

View from the front of the Vaishali Hotel

It rained lightly and I heard thunder before I returned to the hotel room and made another futile attempt at napping. The thunder and lack of electricity motivated me to be lazy. That and having a cold and being somewhat discombobulated again, although I didn’t feel as stupid or congested as yesterday.

Relaxing isn’t lazy. Laziness is one of those accusations toxic relatives threw at me — while I was working full time and writing, sewing, sculpting, and meditating when I wasn’t at my office job. I need not believe anything relatives say.

I meditated while lying down, so at least I achieved something. The Buddha listed four positions for meditation; they include not only sitting but also standing, walking, or lying down. You don’t need to sit cross-legged; we only do that because the Buddha was from India, and that’s how they sat in his culture. While I lay in bed meditating in reclining Buddha pose, the thunder rumbled loudly.

View from my hotel room at the Vaishali Hotel

With all the power outages, it’s fortunate the hotel room contains candles and matches. I relaxed in my room with my journal while I sat by the window and listened to rain pouring down. At four fifty I went down to the lobby to wait for the travel agent. I felt guilty for making him go out in the comparatively heavy rain for my sake.

Naresh was supposed to meet me at five. But he was on Nepal time. At five twenty I lost patience — thinking he may have forgotten. I put my bag in my coat, zipped up, put the hood up and tied it, and went out… and met up with Naresh on the street only a few yards away. Oops. He brought my paperwork with him, so we returned to the hotel. He held his umbrella over both of us — it was a large umbrella.

As we entered the hotel, the young door boy’s jaw dropped melodramatically, like he was performing in a silent film. Maybe this was because I returned so soon after going out, or perhaps because the travel agent was sharing his umbrella with me. Scandalous. From what I understand, sharing an umbrella has a compromising connotation in Japan. Maybe Nepal has the same attitude. I hope not.

In the hotel lobby, back on the cushy couches, I made a point of not sitting on the same couch as the travel agent. I sat across from him. Naresh gave me my tickets, my Chinese visa, and a photocopy of the visa, my itinerary, and a business-sized envelope containing an itinerary and U. S. dollars for the Tibetan tour guide, whom he explained I’d meet at the airport.

I cheered up since I had all this official stuff settled and eagerly anticipated my trip to Tibet, so I skipped back up the stairs. Relieved that I didn’t have to go back out in the rain again, I occupied my hotel room the rest of the evening. I took a shower and lay down. This time I did fall asleep — during a downpour audible through the closed window.

When I woke, it was after 10 pm, and I wrote in my journal for a while. My cold is fading, which shouldn’t be surprising given how much I’ve rested.

Another view from my room at Vaishali Hotel

I’m not sure I recommend traveling to Kathmandu by yourself. I’m a loner, and one of the Davids in Dharamshala said I reminded him of a bohemian friend who was a free spirit. But… I’ve been so discombobulated with this virus. Of course, since I am a loner, I should theoretically be suited to traveling on my own. It was no big deal in San Francisco or Washington DC, where I used public transportation.

If you travel to/in Kathmandu on your own, I recommend doing it when you don’t have fever or congestion — then you’ll be fine.

My head is spinning like a prayer wheel.

I again went to bed early; I’ve been doing this ever since the cold set in, and I suspect that the air in Tibet is much cleaner and will therefore take away my illness. Sesame Street. The worst is surely over: I’ve had scarcely any yellow phlegm, and I feel more human than I did yesterday.

Monkeys at Swayambhunath

My travel memoir Every Day is Magical: A Buddhist Pilgrimage in India and Nepal is available on Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.com/Every-Day-Magical-Buddhist-Pilgrimage/dp/1499258895/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=everyday+is+magical&qid=1615941737&s=books&sr=1-1