Part 5: Village

Much of our days were spent wandering around the "neighborhood" of the local village, as well as the adjacent mountain peaks. Besides the narrow dirt road which ran along the crest of the mountain, the entire region was connected by a network of trails which were heavily travelled by the local people. In the U.S., such trails are the realm of adventurers and vacationers seeking relief from the frenzy of the cities. But here, on these trails, we would encounter a well-dressed family going to visit a nearby town, or a worker carrying a heavy load of grain up to the mill. However, as visiting Americans, we were out for pleasure, and to explore our new surroundings.

A nearby town had a large stupa situated at the center of its square. While there, we met a local Buddhist monk, who showed us the small adjacent temple, with it's many photos of prominent Buddhist figures. Throughout the area, Buddhist sites seemed to alternate about evenly with Hindu temples.

As we neared the great monastery of Namobuddha, we passed underneath a flurry of prayer flags. Rejoicing and fluttering in the wind, they broadcast their messages to the heavens.

The monastery of Namobuddha, which houses some 300 monks, was built on the site where the Buddha, in another life, gave his life to a starving tigress. This shrine recollects that event. (My initial thought was to not disturb the solemnity of the place with flash photography, but I was encouraged to take this photo by an old woman who was cleaning around the site, who, with remarkably efficient gestures, suggested that I should definitely get my camera out and take a photo, and add a small donation to the monastery in the box nearby.)

Even the empty freshly-plowed ground looks scenic against the backdrop of the Himalayas, but this bird demanded that a photograph be taken. I obediently obliged.

Amid the beauty of the contour-following terraces, we also found shady stands of trees, and acres of flowers. In this photo, look carefully, and find Stephanie hiding in the field of yellow.

In one village, we were invited in by one of the local farmers to have some tea, a snack, and the "local drink", made from corn. When I took out my camera, they dutifully stood up in line, looking as if they were at attention.

All of the buildings had an elusive appeal to them. Somehow, even the more unplanned asymmetries seemed perfectly balanced. The colors, too, helped to root them to the ground. And the ubiquitous Nepalese roofline bound them all together stylistically.

At another house, a group of children were playing volleyball with one very sturdy flower blossom. Here, the camera catches one of the children at a quieter moment.

Purliman, our guide, took us one morning to have breakfast with his family. Here he is with his wife and youngest child.

Continue to Part 6: Kathmandu . . .

All words and photos copyright (c) 2001 by Keith Jenkins
k g j 2 2 @ y a h o o . c o m

	Part 5: Village
	Much of our days were spent wandering around the "neighborhood" of the local village, as well as the adjacent mountain peaks. Besides the narrow dirt road which ran along the crest of the mountain, the entire region was connected by a network of trails which were heavily travelled by the local people. In the U.S., such trails are the realm of adventurers and vacationers seeking relief from the frenzy of the cities. But here, on these trails, we would encounter a well-dressed family going to visit a nearby town, or a worker carrying a heavy load of grain up to the mill. However, as visiting Americans, we were out for pleasure, and to explore our new surroundings.
	A nearby town had a large stupa situated at the center of its square. While there, we met a local Buddhist monk, who showed us the small adjacent temple, with it's many photos of prominent Buddhist figures. Throughout the area, Buddhist sites seemed to alternate about evenly with Hindu temples.
	As we neared the great monastery of Namobuddha, we passed underneath a flurry of prayer flags. Rejoicing and fluttering in the wind, they broadcast their messages to the heavens.
	The monastery of Namobuddha, which houses some 300 monks, was built on the site where the Buddha, in another life, gave his life to a starving tigress. This shrine recollects that event. (My initial thought was to not disturb the solemnity of the place with flash photography, but I was encouraged to take this photo by an old woman who was cleaning around the site, who, with remarkably efficient gestures, suggested that I should definitely get my camera out and take a photo, and add a small donation to the monastery in the box nearby.)
	Even the empty freshly-plowed ground looks scenic against the backdrop of the Himalayas, but this bird demanded that a photograph be taken. I obediently obliged.
	Amid the beauty of the contour-following terraces, we also found shady stands of trees, and acres of flowers. In this photo, look carefully, and find Stephanie hiding in the field of yellow.
	In one village, we were invited in by one of the local farmers to have some tea, a snack, and the "local drink", made from corn. When I took out my camera, they dutifully stood up in line, looking as if they were at attention.
	All of the buildings had an elusive appeal to them. Somehow, even the more unplanned asymmetries seemed perfectly balanced. The colors, too, helped to root them to the ground. And the ubiquitous Nepalese roofline bound them all together stylistically.
	At another house, a group of children were playing volleyball with one very sturdy flower blossom. Here, the camera catches one of the children at a quieter moment.
	Purliman, our guide, took us one morning to have breakfast with his family. Here he is with his wife and youngest child.

Travelogue: One Week in Nepal

Part 5: Village

Continue to Part 6: Kathmandu . . .