Breakaway
Anticipation had been simmering since the day before. Rumours of Kathmandu becoming a ghost town seemed to have an element of truth to them, as I waded through a sea of people ebbing and flowing around the main bus departure area. Overcrowded vehicles revved up their engines as enthusiastic conductors shouted a jumble of destinations and thumped the side of the bus like a festival drum.
We are Family
Excitement is contagious. I couldn’t wait to leave for the Dashain festival in Kirtipur, where I was staying in a community homestay as a guest for the festival weekend.
Although only 8 km away from Kathmandu, Kirtipur seemed immediately more relaxed than its close relative Kathmandu. Navigating the narrow paved streets with my host family, I knew I was going to fully experience that slow tourism vibe that I both look for and look forward to. It was easy to imagine this little township in the past; traditional brick houses with carved wooden doors and rafters and marketplaces seemed to have cast their magic around them, making the passing of time somehow immaterial.
Food Glorious Food
Happy to be welcomed into this warm household, I swapped family photographs with my host family as we took place around the dining table in the kitchen, where traditional pressure cookers were hissing, and smells of spices were tickling our noses. A finger-licking lunch of rice, mutton (goat) curry, dhal, spinach and achar (pickle) was peppered with stories, smiles and my heartfelt compliments to the cook, or, as her husband lovingly called her “perfect cook-man lady”.
Later that afternoon, we shared the traditional meal of Samay Baji, served in woven leaf plates. This dish is a wonderful introduction to traditional Newari cuisine with beaten rice, fried black beans, steamed soybeans, water buffalo curry, potato and cucumber achar, lentil-flour pancakes and spinach placed around the plate like a mandala. At my host’s friendly suggestion, I happily made my first pancake, learning how to hold the ladle so that the batter could spread properly around the griddle pan. Before serving the family, my host placed a small amount of each dish on a plate as an offering to God, and we each did the same from our plates before starting to enjoy our food, sitting in a circle on plump cushions placed upon the ground in the dining room. An intricate brass jug and tiny clay bowls were brought, and we sampled Aila, a home-made alcohol made from rice.
We were all ready for an evening stroll after this culinary extravaganza, and set out after dark for an introduction to the many temples that make Kirtipur such an authentic cultural experience. The streets were quiet, and the temples glowed with the light of countless clay candles. Watching from a hilltop, the lights of nearby Kathmandu glimmered back at us.
I Say a Little Prayer
It was already 6 am the next morning, and my hostess looked beautiful in her dashing bright red kurta and matching trousers with gold embroidery. I, too, wear my Dashain red and gold tunic. The family gathers at the doorway for the first step of the tika rituals, which will be repeated several times that day: yellow and vermillion paste, marigolds, rice, rice shoots, red and white ribbons, incense and coins or small banknotes are offered as blessings.
Before leaving home, we bless each other and wear the Dashain white and red ribbons around our necks and green rice shoots behind our ears or in our hair. My hostess and I carry brass platters with the items to bless the temples we visit: Indrayani Devi, Uma Maheshwor and Bagh Bhairab. Hindu and Buddhist symbols are present at each step, and devotees pray with equal respect and devotion. I have not witnessed such openness in worship before and it is wonderful to experience. Hundreds of ladies draped in beautiful saris and kurtas, ranging in colour from light pink to dark plum but predominantly bold red, step gracefully from shrine to stone, giving thanks and bestowing their gifts. Back home, we collect and bless tools, books and the family motorbike and cycles. Around us, the hills of the Kathmandu Valley provide a natural backdrop of majestic beauty in the bright blue sky.
Overjoyed
My whole immersive experience was punctuated by other festive pastimes: kite flying, singing and dancing, demonstrated by my hosts’ young son, a traditional drummer, watching children swing gleefully on a giant bamboo swing, learning how to write my name in Ranjana Lipi…
We swapped numbers, exchanged hugs, and took a few photographs. This memory will have a special place in my heart for a long time.
Leaving Kirtipur, I take with me the belief that we are truly greater than the sum of our parts, and community homestays are one of the most authentic ways to demonstrate this. I feel a part of this Family, this Valley, this Nepal. Thank you.
Annick 20/10/24
