The Past 3 Weeks, in 30 Seconds

Yes, once again, I have disappeared for a suspiciously long time.  The truth is, again, I’ve had computer issues.  And I’ve been sick.  And I’ve been busy.  For example:

Nepal celebrated this:

Tihar is a Nepali festival to welcome the New Year with light. For non-Nepalis, it's an excuse to be a pyromaniac for three days straight. Whee!

Our household celebrated this:

L'Orange uses her strong cat magic to summon glowing jack o'lanterns all the way to Nepal for Halloween.

We adopted this:

Oh, dear. There are already calls to add her in the title, too. As if it weren't long enough as it is...

And we saw this:

The Himalayas rise over Phewa Lake in Pokhara.

But, as you see, I took pictures all along the way.  So — as long as the computer and internet continue to work — I will be very busy with posting once again.

By the way, are you American?  Is it November 4th your time?  Then VOTE!!!!

(And if it seems like a bother, just think of poor little me, and thousands like me, filling out our requests for absentee ballots months ago, and then going through the ballot itself weeks ago, and getting it stamped and mailing it through the U. S. Embassy.  Look, just drive to your local polling place and pull the lever or fill out the bubbles or whatever!!!)

Nepali of the Day:

Ma baraami thiyo:  I was sick.

Ahile ma baraami lagdaina.:  I’m not sick now.

Nepal Sambat:  native Nepali calendar, mostly used by Newars; New Year starts on 4th day of Tihar

Newar:  ethnic group native to the Kathmandu valley of Nepal

puja:  worship

biraalo:  cat

kukur:  dog

himal:  mountain

tol:  lake

Gokarna Resort

Okay, enough about the monkeys.  I suppose you might be at least a bit interested in the resort itself, right?

Well, it was quite nice.  It wasn’t cheap, or expensive. It’s close enough to Kathmandu to be a quick drive to and from the city (though not an easy one — the potholes on the road, in the city itself, off the Ring Road, were NUTS).  It only took us about 20 minutes to drive from our house — remember, distances here are calculated by traveling time, not linear distance.  And still, the resort is far enough away from the city to allow some pleasant communing with nature.  The monkeys like it, too, if that counts as a recommendation.

The main entrance

Our room was also nice, a good-size area, with bed and table and seating area, with attached bath featuring water just as clean as the city’s.  They could buy toilet paper with more sheets on a roll.  And there may have been a faint musty scent in the room, like mold.  But all in all, for Nepal, not bad.

Unfortunately I forgot to take a picture before unmaking the bed, and the larger table isn't in the picture, but you get the idea, right?

And this was the view out our window:

Magnificent!

Nepali of the day:

kotha:  room

jyaal:  window

kholnu:  to open

banda garnu:  to close

kitaab:  book

Jyaal kholnus.  Jyaal banda garnus.

Kothamaa jyaal chha.  (There’s a window in the room.)

Kitaab kholnus.

Nepali Politics 103

Now that you’re somewhat up to speed on Nepal’s past, the present hopefully makes a little more sense.

Because on August 15, while my Internet was out, the next critical event in Nepal’s political history occurred: the Maoists negotiated heavily with a lot of people, and the limbo since the April elections finally ended.

The Maoist party rejoined Nepal’s government with their leader, Prachanda, as the new prime minister. The same day, Girija Prasad Koirala ended his time as interim prime minister, stepping down with a formal congratulations to his successor.

Okay, does this make sense? Remember, the elections were in April — to choose 601 representatives to write a new constitution. At the end of May a republic was declared, and in June the king quietly left his palace. (Which we drove right in front of today; it’s quite impressive.) In July the Constituent Assembly (CA; said 601 people above) elected Ram Baran Yadav as the first president of Nepal. Now, in August, the new prime minister has been chosen, and he’s setting up his cabinet.

The “limbo” lasted from April until now, as the various political parties within the CA all bickered over how to set up and run the government. More than once, one or another threatened to, or temporarily did, resign from the government entirely. We have a quote on our fridge that I cut out of one of the first newspapers here, one of those quotes that the editorial staff felt strongly enough about to place in large type in its own text box in the middle of the article. It says, “Yes, I can confirm our party has withdrawn from the government. We just didn’t have time to file before the end of office hours today.”

Within a few days they were back in the government. Again. Until they withdrew. Again. And…

With all this going on, for four months it seemed like Nepal had no real government at all. At least, such the newspapers bitterly complained. When Koirala went to a summit meeting of South Asian nations at the start of this month, writers groaned about his status as “interim” prime minister and wondered what image they were portraying to the rest of the world.

Really, though, I think the timeline paragraph above does represent some definite progress. Each step took a month, but each happened, in a fairly comprehensible order. And during the so-called chaos, life in Kathmandu proceeded normally, as near as I could tell. Granted, we only got here in June. But traffic police stand at the major intersections directing traffic; fruit and vegetable stalls display fresh produce; stores feature piles of goods for sale; vehicular and pedestrian and other traffic clogs the streets daily… and while that’s frequently interrupted by protests, the protests are temporary and largely peaceful.

For us, they’re just a mild inconvenience. This morning it meant we arrived at fencing class half an hour late because a reported one thousand Buddhist monks were parading through the streets ahead of us. We never saw any of them at all; we’ve seen protesters in person only once, when a group of about 40 young people marched down the street beside us, all of them neatly grouped in rows of five and walking in solidarity toward an indeterminate point to the north. None carried signs, or even shouted slogans, near as I could tell. Many of them smiled, proud because of their mission, or grinning because of the lark of snarling traffic by force of numbers… I couldn’t tell which.

I have no idea if any of them are achieving their goals, and often I’m fuzzy on just what those goals are, anyway. As frequently noted, I’m still toddling through elementary Nepali. The English-language papers report various types of protest, from the odd (students demanding a 50% discount on public transport, scorning the 35% offered to them) to the more sober (Maoist Victims’ Group, raising their voices for compensation for themselves or family members injured in the recent civil war).

We have had one other strange political experience over the weekend. Yesterday morning, as I finished reading A Passage to India, in the distance I heard an amplified voice. I paid it little attention for a while; the workers at the wrought iron shop near our house often have a blaring radio turned loud enough for them to hear it over their hammering. I rather like the radio here, because I enjoy both Nepali and Hindi music. But part of my mind thought the voice continued for an awful long time, and out of sync with the music…

My husband called me upstairs and we peered out our windows at a man holding a loud speaker. About 5 – 10 other people accompanied him, two carrying flags, a few carrying a red blanket in which they were collecting money, as donations, apparently. And none of those flags were Nepal’s refreshingly different national flag; instead they were red, with hammer and sickle.

We couldn’t understand a word the man said. We have no idea whether they were actually Maoists, or members of one of Nepal’s other communist groups. We just peeked at them but otherwise stayed back; we watched some of our neighbors walk out onto their terraces, leaning over to listen for a moment, their eyes a bit narrowed, before they turned and went inside, or nonchalantly continued with their outdoor tasks of washing the clothes or hanging up laundry. The little group continued, none deterred. And as they disappeared out of sight, we caught several pictures from our roof. I’ll post them tomorrow, or edit this post then; it’s late for me to fiddle with finding the camera and downloading pictures now.

Nepal is practicing democracy. It’s still a fairly new idea here. But they’re definitely fond of expressing varied political aspirations.

Nepali of the day:

sarkari: governmental

mantri: government minister

bandh: literally, “shut”; refers to a strike, or a day when a group calls on certain businesses or businesses in a certain area to close

Nepali Politics 102

(I saved this post as a draft just before the Internet went down; it’s remarkable how much the political situation has changed since I wrote it, which see Nepali Politics 103)

As I learn more about Nepal’s political situation, I’ll post it here regularly. For you to read, certainly — but also for me to use to sort out what on earth’s going on, and so that I can look back at it as something of a map of what happened.

The previous post on Nepali politics mentioned nothing about the Koiralas. I recognized that as an oversight at the time, but I also did it on purpose precisely because I thought I might give them their own post. Considering that Girija Prasad Koirala just led Nepal’s delegation to a South Asian conference, I thought it might be a good time to talk about him and his family.

Who are the Koiralas? Well, think of them as the Bushes of Nepal. Or the Kennedys. Or, if you’d like a closer parallel to Nepal’s level of govenment, maybe the Adamses. If you want nearby geographic parallels, think Nehrus.

I’m sure you get the idea. Basically, over and beyond the recently stepped-down king, they’ve been a political dynasty steering Nepal for the last 60 years.

I’ll list, because that’s convenient:

Krishna Prasad Koirala — father of the men below; a leading businessman; exiled to India for part of his life; follower of Mahatma Gandhi

Bishweshar Prasad (B. P.) Koirala — prime minister 1959-61; 1st elected prime minister of Nepal; forced out of office and spent much of the rest of his life in prison or exile; wrote  well-regarded & popular literature as well; founder of the Nepali Congress (NC) political party

Girija Prasad Koirala — served various stints in office as prime minister between 1991 and 2008; in 1991 became 1st democratically elected prime minister since his older brother (above); currently acting as interim prime minister, considering the disputing parties working on the new constitution have yet to form an official government

And on that note, the newly elected president, Ram Baran Yadav, apparently has decided he is as exasperated with the delays of the disputing parties as is the rest of the country. Today he announced a deadline for the Maoists to put together a body of ministers and appoint a new prime minister.

The Maoists have been balking at participating in the government ever since their candidate lost the recent election to President Yadav. Maybe his invitation to them will help overcome their annoyance at overwhelmingly winning the April elections only to lose the presidential election to a coalition of other parties. We’ll see.

Stay tuned for whatever happens next.

(which see Nepali Politics 103, because it already happened over a week ago)

Flying Kitties

Okay, okay, time for a flashback. Because the further we get away from our travel here, the less likely it seems I will post about this, unless I do it now.

Since the site is called “KC Casey and Cats…” you may very well be wondering where the cats are. Well, that was what people wondered as we traveled here. Other people, before and since, asked how we could manage to get two cats halfway around the planet.

The answer — ironically, since we’re in Nepal — is Sherpa bags.

That is, soft-sided cat carriers small enough to slip under the seat on an airplane. Each kitty traveled in her own bag from DC all the way to Kathmandu.

Granted, they didn’t much like it. Regina started to make poor, lost, hopeless meows every time the plane accelerated. L’Orange just curled into a little ball, and decided to be very quiet, and shut her eyes very tight, and then maybe if she tried hard enough, she could make herself disappear.

They appreciated having a break overnight in Bangkok, to wander around our hotel room and NOT be in their bags. But when we carried those bags discretely under our arms, most people never guessed they held cats — unless, of course, the bag started to meow.

Sean amidst a pile of luggage in Bangkok. What's that he's opening?

L'Orange, not yet Suntala Rang.

And who's that peeking out? Why, I believe it's a tabby Regina!

Imagine approaching a security checkpoint, taking off your hat, taking off your shoes, removing your money belt, yanking out the plastic ziplock bag with your liquid items, pulling out the laptop for inspection… and THEN taking a deep breath, undoing the zipper, and reaching in to retrieve a frantic kitty and hug her tight as you walk through the metal detector. And then put her, and everything else, back where it belongs!

We each did it three times. The trip was a little stressful for us, too.

But it was worth it. We’re settled here, and so are the kitties.

At home in Kathmandu

By the way, the only Thai word I learned in Thailand itself: mau = cat

Nepali of the day:

suntala rang: orange-colored (suntala by itself means orange, the fruit; rang means color)

biralo(-haru): cat(s) (adding -haru to any noun makes it plural)

Jholaa-maa — in the bag (jholaa: bag; maa: inside of)

chha: is/are located

“Biraloharu jholaamaa chaa.” You figure it out!

A Bhaktapuri Wood Carver Would Carve…

[As Sean dwells on in his blog, our Internet connection here isn’t the best. I actually wrote and saved the start of this post yesterday, but when the Internet stopped cooperating, I couldn’t post it. So it’s going up today — hopefully with today’s intended post, too.]

I mentioned yesterday that the citizens of Bhaktapur are largely preserving their culture, and their arts. For a very long time, they have earned fame for the beauty and detail of their carvings. I’m here to post some of that ancient heritage on the very non-ancient web. Enjoy!

First, an example from a typical private house:

How would you like to look out this window every morning?

And here’s several photos of a centuries-old Brahmin house:

A view of most of a house, with its extensive wood carvings

Intricate carving of Hindu deities over a door... note the paint still visible on some figures

Over time, this carving over the window has clearly suffered some damage

Next post, a view inside a woodcarving shop.

Nepali of the Day:

Bhaktapur ekdam purano shahar ho. — Bhaktapur is a very old city.

(ekdam=very, purano=old, shahar=city, ho=is)