
Click on image above for more photos
After being informed that I was awarded 1 out of 4 photojournalism grants by the Panos Foundation I prepared to head out to Kathmandufor a 3-day workshop. In no time I was booking a flight and requesting for a much coveted window seat on the right hand side of the plane. Apparently, this is the best side to get a view of the Himalayas as the plane approaches Kathmandu for landing. Unfortunately, the airline’s Philippine staff did not understand what “a seat away from the wing” meant and planted me right smack in the middle of it. That was annoying, to say the least.
The Kathmandu airport reminded me a bit of the airport in Laoag (bricks and all) – so that means that is is even more appealing to the eye than the decrepit building of an airport we call NAIA. I panicked a bit when I got out of the airport to look for the hotel shuttle. I forgot to ask what the tipping convention was in Nepal, and I was afraid that I may give too much, or too little. I spotted the guy with the Panos sign and he immediately assisted me with my luggage. He was one of those freelance porters that the hotel rep had allowed to hold the sign. He and the rep escorted me and another “Japanese”-looking fellow passenger to the van. After some frantic questions from me about how much to tip the porter, I handed over Nepali Rp100, or about US$1.40.
On the way to the hotel, the driver asked where I was from and I mentioned that I was from the Philippines. Almost immediately, the “Japanese”, who was sitting in front of me, turned and says: “Pinoy ka pala!” (“You’re Filipino.) Whoa! He turned out the be Conrad, a Bangkok-based Filipino working for the FAO. He probably would’ve said something in Tagalog to me about tipping, had he known that I am “Pinoy”. But, he thought I was some sort of “British-Chinese” traveler with my Timberlands and equipment bag. Then he tells me that I tipped the porter way too much and that Rp20.00 would’ve done the trick. I learned quickly after that.
That evening Conrad and I decided to walk from Durbar Marg to Thamel, the tourist area, for dinner. This certainly felt like I was going back in time with every step into the maze of darkened and unpaved alleys. I could feel the culture being solidly intact as we wandered through centuries old buildings made out of bricks and wood with their low-slung doorways. Then, suddenly, I was jolted back into the modern age as I entered one of the neighborhood’s temples and heard Christina Aguilera blaring through invisible speakers.
The next 3 days were spent at the Panos workshop where we discussed issues regarding tuberculosis with WHO, Stop TB and other industry experts. Workshop participants came from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Indonesia, Egypt and the Philippines (Kay Alave from BusinessWorld was awarded a print journalism grant). There was a lot of ground to cover, but our group was manageable enough. I’d wake up at about 4:30 AM each day to take advantage of the coolness of the early morning and the softer light. Although it was the monsoon season, the heat could be appalling. By 9:30AM the sun would be too up high giving off the most ferocious glare. I was told that there really isn’t dusk in Nepal. It’s just way too high up to get a proper sunset. The sun just shoots straight up from underneath the Himalayas and straight back down underneath it at sunset. Waking up early had its advantages a I could get to nearby Patan’s Durbar Square and witness the locals go about their daily morning routines and temple visits. Plus, the tourist police were not in place yet and you can get into the square without having to pay the entrance fee.
Nepal is cheap! Nepali food is not very spicy at all. Their version of rice wine is another matter. Served in a shallow dish the size of a soy sauce dunking dish at a Chinese restaurant, this liquid poison leaves a trail of heat and spicyness as it flows down your throat into your digestive tract. Plus, its alcoholic content is lethal. Cuisines abound: Indian, Chinese, French, Mexican, Continental, Italian, and even a proper wood-burning oven for pizza. Of course, all that is in Thamel.
Traffic is a killer. There are no rules and the motorcycle rules. That is if there are no cows around. It’s common to be grazed by a rickety taxi or bumped into by a noisy motorcycle. I did witness a woman being hit by one of those two wheel monsters. Her feet went straight up into the air, then the grating of metal, the blaring of car horns and the screeching of brakes. There was silence for about 30 seconds, then before I knew it the woman was up on her feet, hands on her head and screaming at the motorcyclist. Crossing the street in Kathmandu is like being in a pinball machine!
I wish I had had more time to explore other areas. It would’ve been interesting to experience being “taxed” by the Maoists and receiving a receipt (I did hear a story that indicated that these guys know that the Euro FX rate is more favorable than the US Dollar FX rate.). Generally, the locals are corteous and hospitable. And, like most third world countries, the children were not bashful in asking for cash. Although still steeped in tradition, hip-hop music compete with chants and hymns throughout the area, and beautiful saris are accesorized with the latest designer sunglasses. No point in riding a Mercedez through Kathmandu’s mostly unpaved streets and alleys. A white Land Cruiser, with some sort of agency logo, is the “in” modes of transport. It’s time travel back to a place where life is much simpler and where culture, architecture and tradition is heavily intact. The whole country should be declared a UNESCO Heritage Site, if it isn’t already (is it?).
Related Links
Kathmandu Photos
Stop TB Partnership Announcement