Jakarta

For some reason this post came out (at least in my head) as being narrated by Tony Bourdain, except that he tends to be much more eloquent. Not sure where that came from—doesn’t he have a travel show to be doing?

Indonesia. Coming here I thought "What do I really know?" Okay, so there's East Timor, Jamaah Islamiyah... but I hear Bali's nice. What does any American really know of Indonesia? I guess its related to India, right? And it is somewhere in those islands between mainland Asia and Australia. Oh, and I think I have a shirt from there.

So what did I know? Pretty much nothing. I might have seen a Travel Channel show on it at some point. So its one of those countries that makes our clothes. You know what I mean--India, China, Thailand, Indonesia. Places where you typically think of people working their fingers to the bone for the shirts we buy of the rack at $10 a pop, and probably getting paid that much a day, if they're lucky. A place where you don't drink the water and you watch your wallet. I geared myself up for a grueling experience where the weather was hot, the air was foul, and danger lurked around every corner.

Okay, so I didn't go to 'Indonesia' as much as I went to Jakarta. The capital, yes, but mainly a city on West Java, only one of the many islands that make up this equatorial island nation. Prior to this trip I had been doing some reading on Southeast Asia, or the "Land Below the Winds" as it was known by many outsiders. So, I thought, maybe I'll get lucky and at least see some part of
traditional Indonesia. Perhaps some dancers or a puppet show.

Flying into Jakarta International Airport I looked down at the oil rigs off the coast and some sort of aquaculture--I couldn't really tell at that height. We start coming down and I see fields all around with houses under the trees with motley roofs--the kind you expect some wholesome peasant family to be living in. So far, things were living up to my low expectations. It was hot, and the airport hardly impressed, coming in as I was from Thailand's newest International airport. Making it through customs my colleague and I followed the directions we'd been given and grabbed a Silver Bird cab for transport to our hotel.

As we drove down the road, I saw more fields--at the entrance to the Sheraton, just outside the airport, someone was even herding their goats along the waterway by the side of the road. There were flooded fields, and rickety looking piers jutting out into a lake or river, for who knows what purpose.

Then, the city.

It sprang up around us with the quiet stealth of a stalking cat. Buildings here and there, and fewer and fewer trees. As we went over a raised bridge I could see it, stretched out all around. All the trappings of many people living and working in an area that was never really meant to hold them in the first place. Buildings rose up around us, reaching for the sky as we drove onward, into the heart of the city. I saw the highway across the way turn into a parking lot as cars clogged the road like a hairball in a drainpipe.

As the buildings grew taller, the scenery grew more pleasant, if only in that glitzy industrial way. Hitting a larger traffic circle around a large fountain we had reached the nicest part of the city so far--and I have to say I was impressed. This wasn't just some backwater country; there was business, commerce, and trade going on. New buildings could be seen going up all over the place--this seemed a happening place.

At the hotel room, I was pleasantly surprised--I was taken up to the 15th floor, where I had to use my room key just to access the floor itself. I was led to a palatial room, decorated in classic black and white. On the wall hung a piece of fabric art that should have been in an art museum. I was quite taken aback. I was just getting relaxed when the phone rang:

"Excuse me sir, it seems there has been a slight mistake..."

Turns out the palatial digs were not my room. As I trudged with an apologetic bellhop down to my room with the rest of the hoi-polloi I gave a quick thought to seeing what it would take to upgrade me--but I've never really needed princely treatment and a bed and a shower would be fine enough for me.

First night out in Jakarta we went looking for food. I thought this would be great--a chance to experience something new! Was I in for a surprise. The hotel had several restaurants; one was offering Mexican fajitas, and another was a Japanese sushi/steakhouse. In the lobby was an Irish pub. Next to the hotel: Burger King and Starbucks. Looking around, we found Dunkin' Donuts and McDonald's as well. Nothing like International Cuisine! Hungry and unwilling to spend too much time wandering around in unfamiliar territory, we made our way to that exotic bastion of American cuisine--Chili's.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a fan of American food, and a good hamburger is just what the stomach is calling for at times. And not some gourmet burger specially prepared with expensive seasonings, but something that was cooked on a griddle for 5 minutes, slapped on a toasted bun--maybe some mayonnaise so the grease doesn't soak in too badly--and topped with American cheese product. A real man-burger!

Still, I was expecting an exotic experience, and Chili's just wasn't doing it for me tonight. I did heartily enjoy their version of deep fried onion--one of the better ones I've tasted. But still... where were we? Had we even left the States?

Breakfast the next day I was determined to get a Real Indonesian morning meal. Something that they just don't have anywhere else. Rice--okay, that's an Asian staple and common enough. A chicken and a fish dish. Now we're cooking. Then, wait, knackwurst? And isn't this a Chinese noodle dish? And over there they have sushi and a pot of miso boiling. Once again I was thwarted in my attempts to have an Indonesian experience by the mass intrusion of all of these OTHER cultures. I ate my muffin and drank my tea like a good hotel patron, but inwardly I was dreaming of finding the true culture of Indonesia out there, somewhere.

The next night we went out with local celebrity to the Hard Rock Cafe. An expat regular whom we’d met during the day. They shouted his name as we came in A good meal--better than Chili's, but still something of a standard. A few drinks did not go amiss, however I was beginning to notice a trend—where was the culture? Still, 15% off and 2 for 1 drinks at happy hour do help satisfy the soul—or at least squelch the conscience.

Night after that we decided to try something different and headed for the Japanese restaurant, thinking at least it was Asian. Not a tremendously marvelous experience for me--the 'gyu yakiniku' tasted of fish (it's beef if you don't know), and only made me crave the real thing that much more.

The weekend was upon us before we noticed. Breaking up for the day I decided to walk around. I was surprised at the relative cleanliness of the city--a major improvement from Kathmandu. And there were street vendors, but not too many--I almost wish there had been more. Those who were selling, I was wary of--food that had been sitting out under Plexiglas in that heat of the day for who knows how long. I decided I'd wait to take my chances when I think I can afford to not get up the next day.

I walked down the street, taking my life into my own hands each time I came to an intersection. I've already grown somewhat accustomed to braving the streets here in Thailand--judging the distance between cars, and trusting that they don't want to have to pay to scrape a stupid American off of the front of their grill. Still, a harrowing experience. Add to that the Indonesian version of the tuk-tuk and motorcycles that felt that the rules of the road were really only for four-wheeled vehicles, and disaster seems iminent. I also found that the lights for the crosswalk don't necessarily mean that it is really safe--some times one side will be green, while the other side is red! What the heck is that supposed to mean?

Like Odysseus I timed myself and made it between the Scylla and Charybdis of the city streets, eventually coming to the gates of Monumen Nasional (that's the 'National Monument' for those who don't speak Indonesian). I went past the 'Halte Busway' (Bus stop) to the Museum Nasional (I'll let you guess this one). Sorry, the guy at the gate said no pictures (in contravention of their website). Go figure.

Let me point out right now that things in Indonesia are not on the same kind of time schedule as the West. In the West you'd expect a museum to be open on the weekends, maybe 9-5? Hah! Here's the schedule:

Tuesday-Thursday and Sunday, 8:30 am - 2:30pm; Friday, 8:30 am - 11:30 am; and Saturday 8:30 am - 1:30 pm. They close on Mondays.

Despite these annoyances I went in--and was impressed. There are two parts to the museum, apparently, an older wing and a newer one. The old wing is filled with ancient artifacts, including numerous stone statues and steles littering the courtyard. One long room was given over to the various cultures of Indonesia. There are over 17,000(!) islands in Indonesia, and just about every one of those had its own culture, art and radition. On top of the indigenous religions came the organized proselytization of Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, and Christianity each adding their own, further flavour. I caught here a glimpse of what I had been searching for--the common people; their lives and traditions. It was refreshing.

But in the same breath, there were almost more non-Indonesian artifacts on display. Thai and Chinese ceramics, and East Asian bronzes. There was even a Japanese-styled sword supposedly made in China as a gift to one of the Indonesia sultans. I caught an inkling here that there may be something I'm missing about all of this, but I just couldn't place it.

That evening, we hit one of the malls--Plaza Indonesia. This was no quaint little marketplace, either, but a happening scene with the latest in fashion and design. Here, you get out of a cab and are treated as though you are one of the rich and famous. Yeah, I could get used to this.

That night we still didn't eat Indonesian, but I didn't care. We dined at a place called Gyu-kaku. Oh. My. Gyu-kaku is a yakiniku restaurant. For those of you not initiated into the wonders of yakiniku, it is basically Korean BBQ, Japanese style. You sit down around a table with your own grill and they bring out trays of raw (sometimes marinated) meat. With a few vegetables to keep your conscience appeased, you throw it on the fire and eat it right off the grill. Pre-cut into mouthwateringly bite-sized pieces, it is something of a family tradition at our house. The way the hot meat just melts in your mouth is one of the closest feelings to perfection I have ever come. This is what yakiniku is supposed to be—not some bland cut of beef tasting slightly of seafood! That night we were truly satisfied.

The next day, however, we were in a quandry--how do we top that? We started at Ratu Plaza--one of the most notorious open piracy markets anywhere. A many-stories tall building with probably any kind of electronic media you could want. Any show you could think of, even ones that hadn't even made it to disk, were available. They'd even tell you if the quality was any good or not, and I saw several people urged away from a sale because it was "no good!"

Okay, for everyone out there fretting over it, I was good. I didn't buy any of the USD0.50 DVDs, tempting as it was. Frankly, I know I have a near Catholic sense of guilt and wished to make it back through customs without causing an international incident. Yeah, I'm a wuss, deal with it.

After a night like that, where do you go? How about Grand Indonesia? A brand-spanking new mall with an interesting concept: some of the floors are themed. The entertainment floor is like a walk through the Moulin Rouge, where another floor is like walking beneath the streetlights of Paris--streetlights and all!

We explored until we felt the faux sand and rock of a Zen garden beneath our feet. Beneath the red and pink of cherry blossoms and maple leaves, mixing in a bizarre dance of Autumn and Spring, we found a classy looking place called 'Duck King'.

The facade was imposing--an austere black marble that shielded the dining room from the outside. Hesitantly we glanced at the menu outside and decided it seemed within our meager price range. We entered through a small corridor made all the more impressive by the black floor and mirrored walls and ceilings. We walked past a room of live seafood, waiting for a hungry diner's call, and around a bend into the restaurant floor itself.

The decor was elegant. Sparkling beads fell like a frozen waterfall, separating spaces. Tables were well spaced, with a view of the kitchen without being distracted by it. Service was excellent, with floor managers directing service to whoever might need it.

In a place like 'Duck King' what else are you going to order? Their Peking duck came in two flavours: you could choose a half or whole duck and the crispy skin would be used to prepare the classic Peking duck rolls--done at your table by someone with obvious experience so that you don't have to show off your own inadequacies in front of your dining partners. The meat would then be prepared in one of several ways--we took our waiters' suggestion and went with minced meat and vegetables on small circles cut from a lettuce leaf. Each mouthful was such a pleasant experience I deliberately avoided eating it too fast so that I could savour them throughout the meal. We also ordered individual soups, and a plate of mabo-dofu, as it is known in Japan (I believe it is Mapo-dobu in Chinese). This made for first class dining two nights in a row. And this second meal? Only about $15/person for the entire thing, including drinks and a small dessert.

The next night was relatively uneventful--we were unsure how we could really top that, so we went back to the Hard Rock for a quick drink before getting to bed a little early.

The last night, I was on my own. I had just the day before gained a line on a batik shop in a nearby department store. Two floors of batik and Indonesian crafts, I looked through the keris knives, some wayang shadow puppets, and others. One entire floor was devoted to just batik, the traditional fibre art of Indonesia, and their substitute for Western 'fancy dress'. Everything from business working clothes to high-end, hand painted silks were available; $10~$500, and probably more. And it wasn't just foreigners here--there were plenty of Indonesian people looking through the racks as well. I like to imagine they were there looking for something for a wedding, or some other such celebration.

Before I headed up to the store and spent what money I had left--barring taxi and airport fees--I decided to try one last look for a good Indonesian meal. I had seen one of the classic restaurants earlier--dishes piled high in the window, but it was now out of my way. Instead I decided to head down one of the back streets behind the batik store. Passing stands selling groceries and more DVDs, I saw a promising little place in the corner--a place I later learned was called Saung Gading. The menu showed several 'paket' meals, but nothing was in English, or even in the pseudo-Western pidgin I'd seen on signs elsewhere. I hesitated at the door, and was about the try something a little less intimidating, when a man, speaking broken English, welcomed me to come inside.

The small tables were not classy and ritzy like in the malls. Some 'renovasi' was taking place so half of it was curtained off. There was a small grass eave along one wall to give it some character, but in many ways it seemed like any neighborhood diner around the world, other than the quiet emptiness. Perhaps it was the wrong time of day, or perhaps they had a bad location--I couldn't tell, though it did worry me more than a bit. Maybe this is why they were so eager to welcome me inside? I prepared for the worst.

An incomprehensible menu was placed in front of me. Surrendering my free will, I explained I had no idea what Indonesian food should be, and asked my host to choose something. He picked out three dishes--fried shrimp with a sweet chili sauce, a sweet and sour soup, and a dish that reminds me of Pad Thai, but with no noodles and a heavy peanut sauce. Oh, and potato chips (or some other fried starch) on top. I did ask for a soda, the one thing on the menu I could read.

As I hesitantly tried the food, I was amazed at what I had discovered. The shrimp was so light that you could eat the entire thing, tail and all, without incident. The soup reminded me of a Vietnamese dish I had eaten once, but this one was filled with potatos, corn, and other vegetables that gave it a feeling I could only describe as 'comfort food'. The greens with the peanut sauce--fantastic! It had been spiced just to my tolerance--a little below Thai spicy, which is probably a little below Indonesian spicy. I ended up being unable to finish the whole thing, and heartily thanked my host for a most excellent meal.

As I departed the next day for the airport, I felt somewhat cheated. I'd spent way too much time in the city. Where was the Real Indonesia I'd been hoping for? But then it hit me: This is Indonesia, all of it. Indonesia has always been a crossroads, where cultures have come together and mixed. Their traditional culture is heavily influenced by India, China, and their surrounding neighbors. Now they are adding western and Japanese influences as well. Yet through it all they still have their batik, their wayang, and other traditional crafts.

I don't claim to have uncovered the heart of Indonesia by any stretch of the imagination. My encounter was but a brief glimpse into their realm. There are still many issues that face their nation: Sanitation, over-population, and prejudice between city-dwellers and the people in the villages. They have their own brand of terrorism that they are trying to subdue, and their position places them in a place where cultures, religions, and ethnicities are bound to collide. What I have done, to some extent, is remove, at least in part, some of the cultural blinders I had about what makes up Indonesia. Sure there is history and culture, but there is also the living Now, where people are working to make their way onto the world stage. That is the Indonesia of today, where East and West meet on their own terms, and continue to shape the culture of these islands.

Funny Thai commercials

I haven't posted much recently, but there hasn't been much to tell! I do have some pictures that I need to post-- but right now, I'm feeling lazy, so I thought I would introduce you to the world of Thai commercials, as seen on YouTube. These are a couple of years old, rather than current, but they're still funny as anything.



Ghosts and spirits are a major part of life here-- but they are more threatening at certain times than at others!

(Transvestites, specifically male-to-female or katoey, are also far more common here-- or at least more noticeable-- than other places I've been; Thailand is very open-minded in that regard!)



A series of three commercials for Cheers Beer (which I haven't seen around here).

Cultural Note: "Crab" in Thai is poo, which makes the last commercial that much funnier to this American.



I'll let you figure out what these are promoting...



Disturbing, but funny!



That's some strong hair gel!



This one is a parody of Chinese historical/martial arts dramas, which are big here (so are Korean soap operas!)

Going to the movies in Thailand

On a whim this afternoon, I went to see a movie. Josh and I have already seen one so far-- The Spiderwick Chronicles-- and the experience confirmed for us that Thai movie theaters are crazy awesome. But more on that later.

I took the Skytrain down to National Stadium to go to the EGV Grand Cinema at Siam Discovery Center. The movie I wanted to see was a Thai one, Pidtermyai Huajai Wawoon (which gets translated simply as "Hormones" on all of the movie posters I've seen). Here, Thai movies are commonly (but not always) subtitled in English, rather than dubbed over. I paid 120 baht for a ticket in one of the standard theaters, plus an extra 80 baht for a bag of popcorn (sweet, not salted and buttered; they serve multiple flavors here) and a bottle of lemonade. (As before, I leave the currency conversions to the reader.)

The theater itself was comparable to a very nice stadium-seating setup in the US, with comfy chairs with movable armrests. When you buy your ticket, you always pick your seat ahead of time off a monitor or a diagram.

Like the US, the movie was preceded by quite a few previews (for both US and Thai movies) and a bunch of commercials. Given the previews we've seen, it seems that "band of adorable scamps getting the better of adults in a particular setting" is a common plot outline for comedies here. There was one in the theaters a while back about a bunch of kids kidnapped by pirates, and the two I saw trailers for today were 1. a bunch of young boys become monks, as is common here, and raise havoc in the monastery and 2. a bunch of young boys form a competitive tug-of-war team for their school sports competition. Invariably, hilarity ensues. There are also several movies that seem to revolve around a priest or spirit medium who is responsible for quelling ghosts and has bumbling assistants that get into trouble (if you've seen the unspeakably awesome Hong Kong action movie Mr. Vampire, you know the kind of thing I'm talking about, only this is the Thai version).

The trailers are always followed by the King's Anthem, which everyone stands up for and which is played over a montage of images and scenes (the content of this depends on the theater chain). I really liked the one shown in the EGV theater, actually-- it made me feel patriotic and this isn't even my country!

The movie itself was better than I expected-- a romantic comedy about a series of highschool and college kids having "adventures in love" over their school's summer break. There are four interlocking stories: a pair of best friends compete to win the same girl, a shy kid gets up the courage to talk to his secret crush, a girl prepares for her favorite Taiwanese pop star to come to town for a concert, and a college guy struggles to stay faithful to his girlfriend while she is on an internship down south. I thought the quality of the acting was very good, and the writing was excellent (the subtitles must have been as well, since I found myself laughing at the same points as the Thai audience!) There were some interesting cultural aspects but overall it was very accessible to a Westerner like me-- and there was none of the raunchiness I've come to expect from American movies about "teenagers in love". I hope it comes out on US DVD, but I plan to get a copy when it comes out here, at least.

Now for why Thai movies theaters are awesome: the theater I was in today, which was equivalent to a nice US one and which was VERY comfortable, is actually on the low end of the amenities scale here. Most large theaters have one or more "extra" levels of comfort ("Gold", "Premium", etc., depending on theater and chain) that might involve things such as smaller screening rooms, cushier and more varied seats, special food options, and other goodies. When Josh and I went to see Spiderwick, the next available showing was in something called the "Friendship" Theater, the "intermediate" level of service. We were given three choices of seats: 1) a block of four chaise-lounge type sofa seats, allowing four people to stretch out, for 1200 baht per block; 2) a loveseat-type thing with built-in recliners and footrests for two people, for 600 baht total; or 3) big overstuffed beanbag chairs for 300 baht each! We went for one of the loveseats-- they were ridiculously comfortable, and almost put us in danger of falling asleep during the movie. Our 300-baht-apiece tickets also included a popcorn-and-drink combo for each of us, which was delivered to our seats before the movie started, as well as some blankets to cover up with in case the air conditioning was too much!

Remember, this is only the "middle" level of a nice but not top-of-the-line cinema. I'm really looking forward to what the fanciest options include. I think there is a more extensive food menu that is served to you in the theater-- there was assorted nice international food and an extensive selection of wine and beer available at the theater itself for before or during the movie.

I don't know of anywhere else in the world that is reputed to have a movie-going experience this nice, not even Japan. The USA seriously needs to get on the ball here. We're going to be thoroughly spoiled by the time we head back...

All by my lonesome!

Sorry I haven't done much posting the past week, but Josh has done such a great job (and he actually beat me to the Jim Thompson house post!)

Josh is in Indonesia for the next week, so I've got the place to myself. I'm trying to get onto a regular schedule as far as work and play are concerned. I'm now thinking that I'll work in the afternoons, since most events happen in the mornings (the temperature is better, for one thing).

I was originally worried about not having enough to do, but I think the opposite may be the case: there are an enormous number of activities to enjoy! There is sightseeing and shopping, but there are events at the American Women's Club (which I've joined), the Siam Society, the Embassy, and any number of other places-- plus there are Thai language classes, art classes, and so on. Three years is now seeming like too short a time!

This week I've been trying out some assorted things: on Monday morning I went to an "Adjusting in Bangkok" coffee meet-up held by the American Women's Club at the "Au Bon Pain" down at the Emporium shopping center (two stops down the Skytrain line from where we are). This evening, I went to the Siam Society to check it out and see a talk on "Birds in Chinese Art". It was incredibly interesting and right up my alley (I now know how to tell a boy phoenix from a girl phoenix, which I'm sure will come in very handy in the future!) I think Josh and I are going to spring for Siam Society memberships, as they are always having events and trips, plus that will give us access to a fantastic library on Asian history and culture.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to an "Armchair Anthropology" lecture on the Thai approach to the spirit world, and Saturday morning I am going to a craft fair which is held monthly at the Ambassador Hotel, just down Soi 11 from us. ThaiCraft is a fair-trade organization which sponsors numerous Thai artisans producing all kinds of products, and they have a fair like this at the Ambassador once or twice a month. If you are looking for anything specific, let us know and we will look for it!

Jim Thompson House

So this past weekend we hit one of the typical European tourist spots--Jim Thompson's house. Jim Thompson was an officer of the OSS, who apparently retired to Bangkok where he helped revive the hand-woven silk industry. While here he built a house made from six other teak Thai houses from around Bangkok, and collected a wide array of antiques. He died 'mysteriously' in Malaysia, and his house--now owned by the corporation that bears his name--is open to the public.

At least, that's what the brochure tells you. Some local informants have leaked that Jim Thompson was apparently hit by a car on a road in the back-country of Malaysia. The driver was supposedly frightened that he had hit and killed a white man, and so it went unreported, with Jim Thompson simply 'disappearing'. This story, too, has some holes, but it seems a reasonable explanation.

Regardless, we got a lot more than we bargained for here. I imagined that this would be pretty kitchy, but there were a lot of good things to see. First of all, there is the house and outbuildings:



I'm not sure about all the buildings on the property, but the main house is definitely a conglomeration of several Thai houses. Underneath the pillars is a stone-floored area that is almost like an open-air museum, with some exquisite pieces. Inside is a kitchen, dining room, living room, office and bedroom.



There are steps everywhere, as the entire house is on stilts. The front entrance used to face the klong, or canal, to the north. To the south was the garden, with other small outbuildings that currently hold various artifacts.



Some of the buildings date to the Ayutthaya period. This one was a storehouse for rice and grain. It currently holds some of the antique paraphenalia used for the weaving of silk




They won't allow pictures inside the house, but they will allow it outside in the garden and in the outbuildings. They would even allow pictures from outside of the inside--so I'm not sure entirely what the policy was all about, really.



This Buddhist statue and another one one the other side of the house were quite old--the other is apparently famous, but we didn't get a picture. Sigh. We did get a lot of pictures of other pieces of art, though.



These two panels come from the Ayutthaya period--probably 17th century.



One small outbuilding was filled with pictures (click on any of our photos to see our complete gallery on Flickr). Unfortunately there was no information on them, so trying to classify them into periods remains the task of the observer.

This turned out to be a place we would definitely take people if they are in town. The tour is brief, and the garden is wonderful. We may even post more of the photos here, unless Ellen wants to talk about our trip to Chatuchak some weekends ago. However, it is getting late and I am getting tired, so I will sign off for now.

Indian food in Bangkok

Not a great big post, but I wanted to share with folks a great little Indian restaurant we found here in Bangkok. It is just off of Sukhumvit Soi 8--once you start down you'll turn into this dingy little alley on your left and it is towards the very end on the right. It is called Namuskaar, and it was wonderful. We both had the non-veg thali and it was served rather plainly, with no great pomp. There was a chicken curry, vegetables, yoghurt, rice, papadum, and naan. It came with gulab jamun for dessert, and we finished it off with masala chai. Including a separate water, lassi, and soda that we ordered the meal came to a very reasonable 805 baht--about USD $26. That's probably about what we'd each pay at a restaurant in the states; the thali themselves only came to about $8 a person.

We recommend it to anyone visiting Thailand looking for a nice Indian restaurant with a family friendly atmosphere.

A Nepalese Holi-day!

Hello everyone, Josh here. I know I've been somewhat silent--and I'll probably let Ellen do most of the talking anyway. Still, I thought I'd share my trip last week to Kathmandu, Nepal. Most of the time was spent at work, but I did get out a little bit to walk around. Next time I will definitely be taking Ellen for some real sight-seeing.



My first impression of Kathmandu was definitely that of a third world country. We came in through a haze of smog, and then the city sprawled out beneath us. We disembarked directly onto the tarmac and then were ushered inside. Immigration was quick and simple, without much fuss, and outside there were throngs of people. The weather was nice, however--hot, but dry. Dry is good.



Driving is hair-raising, to say the least. Lanes are more like guidelines, if they are indicated at all. If you are going to turn right (they drive on the left), then you first get into the right lane--with on-coming traffic!--and then turn right. Sometimes people will do this 50 yards or more ahead of where they are turning, and the people in the right hand lane are expected to get into the left lane to go around them. It is absolutely crazy! Our driver was also passing motorcycles--not sure I want to know how fast he was going in these winding streets. Pedestrians are just as likely to be on the road as on the sidewalk (if there is one). Same goes for motorcycles.



Horns are also used often. Even though all of traffic is obviously gridlocked, drivers will honk their horns mercilessly in a futile attempt to move traffic. These same drives will then stop in the middle of the lane and let people out to do shopping, waving traffic to go around. Apparently if you stop on the left side of the road and turn on your right blinker, it is to tell others to go around you. If you stop in the middle of the lane and turn in on, you are signaling a right turn. If the lane isn't wide enough to tell, the driver behind you decides what he thinks you are doing and acts accordingly.



Sanitation seems almost non-existent. Trash is often removed from the street by sweeping it into piles and setting it on fire. This can be done right next to a house or other structure, in some instances. Men will relieve themselves on the street, and the two toilets I had to experience did not have toilet paper (one I didn't use, the other I had an alternative). There is a reason in many Indian and Islamic cultures one does not eat with the left hand.



Meat is kept fresh by keeping it alive. I saw many butchers starting in the morning--most of them preparing goats or boars. The meat was freshly cut and then just lying on a table--in one instance it had been thrown on the seat of a taxi for transport. I also noticed a house that had a small 'pit' made apparently for the meat, so the blood wouldn't drain everywhere. The folks hacking up the boar meat were particularly interesting--they left on some of the bristles, especially the mane, and otherwise coated the carcasses in an orange preservative of some kind--it may have been iodine or something similar. They cut them up as-is and sold them right there. Once an animal is slaughtered, the meat may sit out for the day. Though I did not see it, I am fairly certain as much as possible of the animal is used.



Vegetables are also sold on the street, with cars, bikes, and pedestrians kicking up dust all around. I've heard that food preparation can be a lengthy process of washing the food, soaking it in an iodine solution for 20 minutes, then washing off all of the iodine. And you still probably want to cook most of your vegetables just to be sure. That said, there are restaurants in Kathmandu that can be quite tasty.



This was Anatolia, a Turkish themed Indian and Tibetan restaurant. It was awesome! Some friends and I had chicken biryani, mutton rogan josh, panak paneer, chicken tika, and mutton shish kabob. We ordered regular, garlic, and butter naan. We finished it all off with Nepali (masala) tea. It was excellent. The Nepali tea here is almost like the Butter Tea we had at the Bhutan booth at the Diplomatic fair (where we met the Bhutanese princess that Ellen still hasn't elaborated on).

I have to admit, most nights we ate at our hotel, the Radisson, at the Olive Bar and Bistro:



They offered steaks (something you can't always find in Nepal or India), including chateaubriand, rib-eye, filet mignon, etc. It was fairly tasty, too. If you really wanted, though, you could order a Nepali thali--a Nepalese meal with an assortment of dishes, either vegetarian or non-vegetarian. The non-veg consisted of rice, naan, roti, gulab jamun (pronounced almost like glab zamn), lamb rogan josh, chicken in a creamy yoghurt, paneer in a sweet tomato sauce (I think it might have been paneer khadai), dhaal, and fried saag. There was a side of raita which we were told you can eat with things or, as our server likes it, straight. That was definitely one of my best meals.

This was much better than my first lunch, where I ate a whole chili--yikes! I thought it was a peapod, at first, based on the color and, frankly, the fact it was by itself (who would take chilies to eat them whole? I guess some people...).

I was warned not to drink the water, but the hotel gives out complimentary bottled water in the rooms.



The Radisson is nice--I would definitely stay there again. There are a lot of backpackers here--especially tour groups. You can see them getting ready to get on their buses--everyone has the exact same colored luggage--I'm guessing most of it is equipment provided by the tour company or some such. It is also close to the Royal palace and the Thamel district, where most of the tourists hang out.



Thamel is quite the happening place at night--and apparently all day, though I'll get to that later. Watch your wallet--make sure you have taken precautions because there are pickpockets about. Also, Nepalese do bargain--I know I ended up buying two hats that were at least twice what I was quoted at the next stall over! Oh well, live and learn. In the end, bargaining comes down to finding a price that you and the seller think is fair--beyond that, it shouldn't matter. Caveat emptor, however--it is really up to you to decide the provenance of any given item as the seller may or may not give you the real information. Oh, and I have to wonder if some of the shops are 'authorized' vendors:



Friday morning I went back to Thamel. I already knew it was going to be interesting; you see Friday was the Holi festival in Nepal--the festival of colors. Celebrated in most Indo-Asian nations in one form or another, some of the largest features are: 1) Throwing water, and 2) colors. These often combine in the tradition of throwing colored water.



Somehow I missed getting any of the colored water on me--though I did get splashed with a few regular water balloons. Here they are small, plastic bags that are filled and tied off. People especially like to throw them from the upper stories of multi-storied buildings. The height of Holi day is apparently after 11am, when things really kick into gear.



Fortunately, things were pretty quiet early in the day--I went down to Thamel to look around and there wasn't much going on yet. First I came through the main entrance, past a pagoda/bank on the right side of the road:



I got up around 5:40 in the morning and was out of the hotel just a little after 6am. The tourist district, centered on 'Thamel', was pretty sleepy in the early hours, so I did a lot of walking, taking pictures of the architecture, shrines, and daily life.

The buildings here are quite amazing. I took a lot of pictures so you can see what I mean. Some of them almost look ready to fall apart, yet there are details such as the wood carvings that are exquisite. Wood is quite prevalent in their construction, and I noticed that it was common for there to be wooden ladders, rather than stairs, connecting the floors. Many doors were also below street level, with a very small entrance that you have to duck into. Store fronts aren't large, open fronts, but rather multiple doors that are all opened up. All sorts of businesses have this same structure.

Sacred spaces were omnipresent. From temples:



To large shrines:


And small shrines:


Trees:


And even what appears to be a hole in a set of stairs:

(Not sure about the last one, but it makes a good story...)



Apparently a lot of people make offerings of a sort just outside their doors--I'm not sure if this was because it was Holi or not, but I had been seeing the after effects and finally found one in progress.



I eventually came upon a large temple area called Kathe Simbu, at least according to my maps. It was pretty impressive--a large square with many small shrines and a large stupa. There were several temples around the complex with monks chanting and performing rituals with fellow religionists. Around the stupa you can see a common item--prayer wheels. Inside each prayer wheel is a copy of a mantra, prayer, etc., which is also printed around the outside. Each turn of the wheel is as though you had said the mantra, thus increasing merit.



Another common practice is to put some paint or dye on the image of a deity as a kind of offering. Red is a common color, usually placed upon the head, though sometimes (as you can see above) it is used all over. I have heard that Ganesha, in particular, is fond of red, but I don't fully know its significance otherwise.



Walking down the street, I felt somewhat out of place, but not overly threatened, even in the relatively abandoned side-streets I occasionally walked down. I was on the lookout for water balloons--though one did catch me by surprise. I had on a jacket for the occasion, though, and a change of clothes waiting back at the hotel. I did get accosted a few times by people who were trying to sell something and would keep after me for a block or more.



As more people showed up, you started seeing more people with the water balloons. At one point I heard a commotion and turned around. I saw another tourist running around a corner towards me, and soon a parade of men, all of them doused in red dye, came after him, turning up the street away from us. I decided that my best course of action was to move from store to store, in case a large group of colored water-throwers happened through. They never did, though.



Kathmandu is an interesting place. Religious icons are everywhere, and despite all the issues (Maoists, Tibet, and a lack of fuel which must be imported from India) I did not feel any oppressive sense of doom. Holi day, especially, was a time when complete strangers were laughing with one another and enjoying themselves. Smiles were everywhere, even in horrible conditions, proving the resiliency of the human spirit. I believe it was Anthony Bourdain who pointed out the symbolism of my penultimate photo. Something that I believe encompasses a human ideal found throughout the world that keeps all of us going, whatever reasons we may have to quit: Hope. Here we have the class third-world icon; a building, occupied and in business, with girders sticking out of the roof. It is as if it is saying, "I may have only one floor today, but one day..." It expresses, for me, a feeling that the owners have not given up, but are looking forward to better times. That is a powerful message.



But if that's my penultimate photo then what, might you ask, is the ultimate? A monkey of course!



And that concludes my slideshow. Thank you for reading. (And now you see why I don't post much--this has taken up way too much of my time and yours)