Equivocality

My god, it’s like lace reaching into the sky! I mean, I’d seen pictures, but this, actually standing here in Durbar Square, Katmandu, watching the pagodas silhouette the dawn– it’s a fairy tale. This place can’t be real. Here, let’s climb the steps. Oh. There’s graffiti at the top. The sun rises, shadows form. The traffic arrives with first light. And now the square is filled with belching diesels and kids on scooters, and vendors selling cotton candy and mobile phones. Also illuminated is every other building, the surrounding sprawl of hideous brick boxes. Katmandu, 21st Century. The pagodas cower before the hot, flat, smoggy light of the present time.

But no, he assures me. This is progress. This is change. Before, there was nothing, he tells me. We lived in the village, in the dirt. You people, when you first started coming here, when you formed your myths about us, we had nothing. And you loved it. You smoked hash with us and talked about how spiritual we were. It was great for you because you didn’t have to live it yourself. It was great for us because we didn’t know better then, we hadn’t seen the outside world.

Look, I say, we were all raised in the suburbs among the white kitchen appliances. To us the very idea of community was a revelation. To us raised with two-cars three-televisions and a day-planner, the simple life was a blessed relief. And he says, yeah, but turn that around, take the village perspective. Do you want to walk five k. just to get water? No? Well, now we have motorcycles. And everyone knows that Hollywood makes the best movies. Look, isolation and poverty suck, no matter how charming and refreshing it makes you feel to stay in my father’s wooden shack and eat plain rice. For a night or two. With your medical insurance, of course.

Ah, but what an experience! A village of sustenance farmers, an actual living community where everyone is in it together. A simple life, something really new for us. Hell, sunrise becomes meaningful again! Walking to the temple to pray, a more spiritual life. No more appointments and schedules. Not a lot to do at all, really, until the crop ripens. Is this really how people lived thousands of years ago? So sad to see it all disappearing. Yeah, I slept all right on the ground, I guess. Damn, it’s a cold morning. I could really use a cup of coffee. You too?

That night we talk in the flat glow of the low-power fluorescent. Wife enters, simply “wife”, never introduced by name, and serves the meal. She doesn’t say much. Just cooks the food, then takes the dishes away. Oh, and does the washing. Keeps house. Makes the fires. Bathes the kids. Whatever. Lets us men get on with the serious work. Old wizened father does not even glance at her as she exits. Now, what was I saying? he croaks. Oh yes. Beware the boys from the next village. No one will harm you here in our peaceful community. But that next town over – I don’t know about them. They come over here drunk and steal things. Yes, those other people. In fact, this country would surely be better off without those damn Nepali-Toureg-African-Muslim-Chinese. Eh, no, I’ve never really met them. They live over there. But I know. Be careful. Do you want to visit the gompa, tomorrow to talk to the monks? Very popular with the tourists. Yes, our religion is extremely important to us. It teaches love and kindness. Oh, if the dogs bother you just throw a rock at them.

Anyway, asks the son, will you be here next month? I’m going to be married. It’s time. I’m twenty six, that’s marriage times. No, I don’t really know her that well. She comes from a good family though. And very pretty, know what I mean? (Wink wink, laugh.) We’ll dress up in our traditional marriage garments – you’ll like those, very colorful, bring your camera. Then we’ll go to the temple, and set up a pavilion in the street, and hire traditional musicians, all of it. It will be great. Marriage is very special for our people. It is for life here, not like in your culture. Then we’ll move into our own house and have children. One is a must, more is your choice. We will pray to the goddess of wealth. We will respected and honored. One day we will have enough to hire a servant to take care of the house. Just like our parents. Our family-caste-tribe is very ancient and noble. It has always been this way. This is tradition. Eat your rice.

Did you see Fast and Furious? I loved that one. Now that we have electricity in the village we can play VCDs at night. Music also. I like Lionel Richie, but my sister listens mostly to Westlife and Christina Aguilera. The tapes of our traditional music are such poor quality. Oh, we don’t really wear that anymore. I mean some people still do wear the traditional dress. The old people, and the conservative ones. Nah, jeans man, jeans from the bazaar in town. Do you like my t-shirt? Designer graphics. No, my family doesn’t plant rice anymore. We grow cash crops, and now we have money for the first time ever. We’ll be moving to the city, you know, and you need money out there. Concrete walls are way better than wood and thatch, don’t you think? They don’t leak in the monsoon. Want a smoothie? I just bought this new blender.

Yes, we can all read now. We have all been vaccinated and we will live a long time. I live next to the Muslim quarter and I guess they’re okay. The old religion? Well, our parents are much more into that than us, really. On special days we go back to the village and visit them. They give us huge sacks of rice as gifts, imagine that! Wow, did you see that crazy driver? The government should really do something about this traffic.

MBA. BBA. BCom. Yes, it is my dream to get an MBA. It is my dream. A hundred conversations with young men on trains and busses: what do you want to do with your life? Get an MBA. Go into business with my father. Business. Information technology. I am studying Communications at the university in the city. No, I’m never moving back to the village. I don’t eat with my hands anymore. I have bought closed-toed shoes. It’s so dirty there! I would really like to get married. After I complete my studies I will get married. After that? What do you mean? Well, you have a car, don’t you? Why, what should I want out of life?

This entry was posted on Monday, April 14th, 2008 at 3:16 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.