First Impressions

Traveling around the world is not fast. I had dinner over New Jersey, breakfast over England, lunch over the Black Sea, and the next day's dinner over Afghanistan.

Looking out the window as we flew over India was surprising. The entire landscape is shaped by people - small towns and villages surrounded by a haphazard patchwork of fields, broken only by muddy rivers. No empty space, no forests, no wild fields. Soon, though, the landscape got a little greener, patches of forest appeared, and hills started to rise up. We must be over Nepal. I looked to the other side of the plane, and there - there! - were the Himalayas. Huge cliffs of snow rising in jagged peaks and ridges out of the bank of clouds. It was not a complete range; individual peaks, or small groups of peaks, rose far, far above the surrounding cloud, which hid the lower mountains. Looking straight down again, we were flying over steep green hills and valleys with small houses perched on the slopes. The houses became more and more numerous, and then we were in the Kathmandu Valley. The valley is an open plain surrounded on all sides by steep hills. Over two million people live in this relatively small area.

I've now been in Kathmandu for almost 32 hours, and every hour it gets easier and more comfortable. Still, it is so radically different from what I am used to that simply walking down the street is exhausting. Nepalis do not pay attention to rules of the road in any capacity. They have no concept of "yield", and even though officially they drive on the left side of the road, even this basic rule is adhered to at best 75% of the time. The roads are a mess of microbuses, normal buses, cars, taxis, motorcycles, bicycles, pedestrians, and cows all trying to get where they need to go as fast as they can (with the exception of the cows, I guess). It doesn't help that many of the roads are narrow, twisting affairs, jumping over hills and jogging around houses. (Another thing Nepalis have no concept of: city planning.) I won't even try to estimate for you how many times we came within half an inch of a terrible accident. Drivers assume that the more they use their horns, the more likely it is that the driver/cyclist/pedestrian in front of them will get out of their way. There are so many horns in constant use, though, that no one pays any attention. The city is very polluted, and it is thick with the smells of exhaust, dust, open sewers, rotting fruit, burning trash (trash cans are one more thing Nepalis don't have), cooking food, incense, and many many people. Piles of trash, muddy holes, and tight rows of corn or other crops line the roadsides, and the weeds are munched by goats, cows, and chickens. Stray dogs bark from every front step. Buildings are in every imaginable state of repair or disrepair, from shiny new glass structures (rare) to heaps of crumbling brick (common).

But don't assume that the city is ugly. Shrines and stupas, gilded and painted bright colors, seem to be on every street. (Several large temples, such as Swayambu and Pashupati, are actually complexes of religious buildings in a haven from the noise and pollution of the street - but not from the crowds of people. More about them later.) Women do their shopping in brilliantly colored saris and kartas (sp? Nepali costume of long shirt, trousers, and scarf). Fruit stands spill apples, mangoes, pomegranates, coconuts, and several foods I've never seen before. The top terraces of houses are covered in potted plants, and the terraces themselves have intricately carved balustrades. The weather is lovely (though somewhat humid for my tastes) - clear skies and bright sunshine until late afternoon, when torrents of rain pelt the streets for half an hour. Then the clouds dissipate again, and the puddles dry up. Everyone's face is graced with a smile. While Kathmandu is not a city I would want to stay in for any long period of time, it is certainly an incredible - and overwhelming - place to visit.