Chitwan

note: pictures link to high-res downloads
An oft-stated fact about Nepal is that it contains a plethora of diversity: of cultures, languages, ethnicities and religions to name a few. Why? In short, the reason is geography. Not only is Nepal located at a crossroads of many other nations, but the nation in and of itself contains a broad strata of elevations and geographic features that have caused the people to adapt according to their specific climate. From the high desolate mountains of the north, to the lush low lands of the south, Nepal is home to almost every type of climate that exists on earth.

Nestled within the Mahabarath mountain range in the south of Nepal, which divides the indian-like plains of the Terai and the more mountainous Pahar, exists the Inner-Terai. This hanging valley is not quite as low in elevation as the rest of the Terai, but contains similar geographic features such as plains and jungle, making for an interesting ecological system. Dependent on the traffic situation, getting to the Inner-Terrai can take anywhere from 5 hours to a whole day if you're really lucky ;) Famous to the Inner-Terai is the town of Bharatpur as well as Chitwan National Park, an ecosystem of plains and jungles hugging the banks of the Rapti River.

Our ETD for Chitwan was roughly noon on a Wednesday afternoon, to arrive at the hotel in time for dinner, which included the occasional drink and relaxation in general. But as is often the case in Nepal, our plans soon went up in smoke, due to gridlock on the main southern route out of town. For two hours we waited, standstill, but to no avail. As is customary, after one plan has failed a new one is conjured up and instead of taking the main highway we opted for the backroads, more risky but our best bet. Our adventure had begun…

Mountainous roads are risky for a number of reasons, especially in Nepal during the monsoon. Road conditions can deteriorate quickly, so getting stranded due to mechanical malfunction or impassable objects is nothing to be scoffed at. Extraneous tourist vehicles don't make the trip any easier; hitting a patch of road where two large SUVs can't both pass is not unlikely; in fact, it should be expected. Be prepared to feel like your in the hot seat of a rally car, because the game is pass or get passed on the road of Nepal haha! Despite all of these obstacles, the reward for traversing such unpredictable terrain is generous: the views of the mountains and the valleys is unbeatable. Houses dot the sides of the valleys, each like a bright star in the infinitely dark night sky. The mountain tops seem to reach up to the clouds and drag them down, hiding their peaks as if they were sacred.

Well, you can't win every gamble, and we were certainly trounced in our initial attempt. About two hours into our journey, while gallivanting through an especially rocky section of road, the familiar pop-whiz-bang of a tire on it's last leg entered our sensory banks, accompanied by gaping mouths and subsequent delirium. Luckily, and I mean really luckily, we had taken the Land Rover which contains a full size spare tire, and we merely had to change it before we were on our way once again. 20 minutes, a few pair of greasy hands and a few pictures later we were back on the road, pleased with ourselves and ready to gamble it all away again.

Luckily we didn't lose our gamble again. After driving south through the mountain pass, by dusk we arrived in Hetauda. From this juncture, we headed west to Bharatpur, and once again turned south, venturing to the Safari Narayani Lodge located on the Rapti River at the edge of Royal Chitwan National Park. Elephant rides are quite possibly one of the most popular activities in Chitwan National Park, and are therefore in abundance. Almost any resort located in the vicinity of the park will offer it's guests a chance to enjoy the nature around them through a variety of activities, including elephant rides, canoeing, and hiking. Safari Narayani has somewhere around a dozen elephants, one of which you can see pictured to the left.

Our entourage included two elephants, a mother and son team. Delineated to the younger of the two, the established relationship certainly made for an interesting two hour ride. For one thing, the baby elephant would almost never go on without the mother. While crossing the Rapti, for instance, we were forced to stop and wait in the middle of the river for the mother to catch up and pass us. No amount of persuasion (in the form of whipping in this case) would make the young elephant move forward. Equally eventful were the occasional wildlife sighting. The list includes numerous species of birds including hawks, as well as the single-horned rhino you see pictured. Catching a glimpse of a rhino is no small feat, inducing our guides to chase after it through the bush for about 10 minutes. But I have to thank them for that, for the chance to get such a great picture!

Our final stop that day was to the family plot of land, which also sits on the north side of the Rapti river. Unwilling to walk the overgrown path to the plot, Kanak uncle flung the Land Rover into the thicket. Windows rolled down, one had to be careful to not get a face full of wet branches, or the occasional leech. My uncle exclaimed, "how many people can say they own a jungle?!" Ineed, the plot hasn't been inhabited in so long that it is well on its way to becoming a full-fledged jungle. Chitwan is a great getaway from Kathmandu. It's slower pace, warmer weather, and awesome jungles contrast nicely with the mountains to the north. I was lucky to go and experience it, hopefully I'll be able to go back soon.

Krishnashtami

note: pictures link to high-res downloads

Krishnashtami, one of the largest hindu festivals in the world, celebrates the birth of the hindu god Krishna. In Nepal, this festive day is a national holiday, allowing one and all to enjoy the many celebrations held around the city. I was fortunate enough to be in Kathmandu during the holiday this year, and only a fifteen minute walk away from a major krishna mandir in Patan Durbar Square. The density of people increased exponentially as I neared the square from the north. Hundreds of people crowded the area, worshipers, tourists, and merchants alike. Standing on the high ground, I was able to capture the mayhem of the most crowded part of the square. In addition to the many people walking to and for, people lined the sides of almost any mandir that had space on it. Getting trampled while moving around was not improbable, so moving with traffic after leaving my perch was critical.

Many Hindus consider Krishna the 8th avatar of Vishnu, who fulfills the role of preserver of the universe in the group known as the Trimurti. Also included in the group are Brahma, the creator, and Shiva, the transformer.As a consequence of this relationship between Krishna and Vishnu, many mandirs dedicated to one or the other are also mutually used for worship of both. This fact was more than evident on Krishnashtami here in Patan, as many of the bigger ceremonies of the day were held at the larger Vishnu mandir. Decorated and accentuated with streamers, people, and smoke from the many pujas, Vishnu's faithful vahana known as Garuda, the being which a deity rides, sits in his shadow ever faithful.

After the lumbering monotonous walk past the mandirs, a large line appeared towards the southern end of the square. Composed almost exclusively of women and children, all present were waiting for darshan. The line stretched well beyond the limits of the last mandir, conveying its integral role in observance of the religious holiday. The act of receiving darshan from a guru or from an icon of god himself essentially proclaims ones devotion, and in this sense is a universally important gesture. The process typically involves the devotee bowing ones head toward the revered, or the touching of the head of the devotee to the feet of the revered. Not only is this a sign of respect and devotion, it can also be seen as a process of accumulating affection for God, which in Hinduism is a key process in moving forward spiritually.

It may be a while until the next time I'm able to enjoy Krishnashtami in Kathmandu. However, the excitement that goes along with celebrating the holiday here is too good to not enjoy again, so you can bet I'll be back very soon.

Adventures in Patan Durbar Square

note: pictures link to high-res downloads

Familiarity, that state in which one is comfortable with their surroundings, situation, etc., is perhaps one of the most sought after human emotions. What individual doesn't dream of walking into their local grocery store or barber shop, or restaurant, and feeling as if they were in the right place at the right time? I am in no way resistant to this way of thinking, in case you were wondering!

Today's selection of photos comes from a spot nary a 15 minute walk from my uncle and aunt's house in Patan, Patan Durbar Square. There are three Durbar (palace) Squares in Kathmandu Valley, one in Kathmandu, one in Patan and one in Bhaktapur. The reason there are three stems from the fact that before Nepal was a unified nation, at one point in time the Kathmandu valley contained three separate kingdoms. The rulers were brothers, who were bequeathed each of his respective kingdoms from their father after he had passed away. Patan durbar square is known as one of the most beautiful, for it's classical Newari style architecture, and it's high concentration of mandirs. The square is thought to have acquired many of it's monuments during the Malla dynasty, in which competition between the three kingdoms was at it's height.

By now many of you are calling

me a hypocrite and somewhat of a simpleton, because if I am in fact looking for farmiliarity, then I've completely eaten my own words. What am I doing in the complete opposite situation? The short and simple answer is that I wanted an unfamiliar situation; I felt that I had become too familiar with my familiarity, in a sense, of the U.S. and my way of living, etc. There are many reasons I wanted to come to Nepal, too numerous to itemize them all in a single blog post. But one of them was the urge to live and breathe and work in a place I was unfamiliar with. Up to the day I took these pictures, my second full day in Kathmandu, no feelings of unfamiliarity had fully entered my personal space. I would chalk this general ignorance of my situation up to the fact that I had only been here two days, more or less under the watchful eyes of my hosts. Of course, this is greatly appreciated and needed, but slowly I hope to become more independent, as I'm sure they do as well haha!

Uncertainty finally reared it's ugly face when I happened upon Durbar Square, much of which looks like the scenes depicted to the right and above. Finally in my element as a photographer, I quickly became fully overwhelmed with feelings of vulnerability, uncertainty, and chaos in general. To any local this little stunt would seem elementary at best; but for myself, it took a good deal of audacity. At this point I must give credit to Sita didi, my guide for the afternoon, for at least leading me to the general area.

'What a relief!' I thought to myself; I had finally made it to my gold mine of photographs. Not only was I paralyzed for a good ten minutes after my arrival, unable to take pictures, I

also found my usual photographic senses mucked up from the feelings described above. The heat magnified itself off of the red bricks of the square, which were seemingly as hot as the sun itself. Tourist bounded to and fro, looking for all the same shots I was looking for. What to do? I quickly evaluated my situation and decided to suck it up! I as well fully assumed my touristy nature and bounded to and fro, snapping pictures of all the familiar stupas and mandirs.

You may think that I regret my touristy actions, but this could not be further from the truth. Keeping my entire ordeal in mind, the collection of photographs you see here are not only special to me in the sense of what they are of, but also the emotions they represent to me. As a photographer, familiarity of a place is usually indispensable in capturing a great photograph; knowing a place leads to discovering the angles, subjects, and timing for the unique shot every photographer dreams of.

Perhaps I overreacted, but that's not something to worry about now. After much time, I began to realize that these historic spots around Nepal, Kathmandu especially, are exactly that: Tourist hot spots. The table full of figurines and statues was more or less a dead give away of that. In a way, this situation saddens me. Tourism is one of, if not the, biggest industries in Nepal today, therefore this shouldn't have surprised me. Without spots like this, the country would be in an even more shabby state than it already is. Perhaps I just wish I could have seen these mystical places at the height of their time. Although, I would not have been able to capture these pictures if that were the case!

So maybe I didn't have my usual photo-skills on my side that day, but the "best" shot was not my objective; the goal for the day was to put myself out there, when I knew I would feel vulnerable, and become more familiar with the places, people, and situations that are now occurring around me. I think I've at least gained some confidence and familiarity from my exploits; I hardly think I could've gone backwards. Every day brings with it new challenges, which I'm sure will increase in frequency as I become more independent. Hopefully this way of thinking will aid me and help me overcome the many obstacles I've yet to meet. Until the next post, I bid you adieu!