Saturday, March 15, 2008 − Thanka Painting

One day while walking around the tourist shopping district in Kathmandu, I looked at Thanka paintings, specifically the mandalas. They were so wonderful. I wanted to learn how to make them so I asked the shopkeeper and he ignored the question. The next day I walked by a thanka painting school, which later, I learned were a bit dime a dozen. But with my new−this−has−to−be−fate attitude, I went right in. I wanted to take just a couple of days because honestly, I new I would suck at it and I really am not that interested in it. I ended up paying for $50 for 10 days but getting frustrated and bored and not returning after 4 or 5 days. At this school, the teacher really didn't know anything about mandala painting. They did mostly paintings of Tara, a Buddhist goddess. The paint is similar to gauche, flat, matte, water soluble. The process of doing it was tedious because depth was created by layering. I am not into tedious. It's not just ADD with me either. I attribute this hatred for tediousness from my childhood. No, not my abusive mother. I was sick a lot as a kid, with high fevers and would have dreams. These dreams were repetitive. Like some huge ball of something, hair maybe, sitting on my chest that I would keep adding to and trying to push off or something. It wasn't not a happy dream but a frustrating one. Back to the mandala painting, which is a lot like paint by numbers, my little teacher kept fixing it for me when I would leave. I kept trying to explain that I was just interested in learning and did not care about the final outcome although truth be known I would've been a better student had I been any good at it.

Sunday, March 16, 2008 − Thanka Teacher

I wanted to have a separate entry about my teacher. He was 26 years old. He was tiny. He made me look stocky. Married with 2 kids. He made 6000 Nepali Rupees per month which is about $100. Not a great sum but, I am pretty certain, a living wage. Just to give you an example, I was paying $2 a night for a hotel, which would be $60 month. So his rent must be $25 at the most. In India, I could get a sack of vegetables for $1. I am not saying he is rich but not poor by any means. Initially, I talked to him about classes but he deferred me to the owner of the store, who is entirely another story, perhaps another entry. From the very first class, he told me how much he made and how some Swedish woman came to his house and was shocked how he lived. She sent him $500, which would be like sending an American $8,000. It is quite a chunk of money. By the point at which I met him, I had already been in Asia over a year and so was not shocked by the standard of living. So, honestly, his story fell on deaf ears. Later on he pulled out a cellphone which had all the bells and whistles including recorded video and audio. I suspect that is where the Swedish woman's money went. At first, he never mentioned a wife and kids, which always freaks me out when you find out later. He was not a happy young guy. He didn't like having the responsibility of a wife and kids. He said he got married to please his parents. I am always reluctant to relate these stories because I don't want people to get the only a negative impression. Based on people's reaction to this blog, perhaps these are the only stories I am relating.

Monday, March 17, 2008 − Thanka School Owner

The owner of this school was about my age with 2 college age kids. We sort of bonded being single women of a certain age. I got the impression from her that a business woman was unusual but not rare. Her husband left her and the kids to go to Australia, and she hadn't heard from him in a number of years. She also gave me the impression that this was common in Nepal. I liked her quite a bit but after all my time in Asia, I wasn't certain of her motives. Did she feel a kinship with me because we were similar or because I could be a source of revenue for her? It makes me sad to even think that way but I had a number of disappointing experiences that lead me to be more cautious. I had great admiration for her. Her business seemed good. Her kids were awesome. Nice kids. She took in a country kid but again I am not sure of her motives. Was she helping him, or was he free labor? She said she was going to send him to school but wasn't at the moment.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008 − Job Crushing Rocks

You know, you all complain too much. Check out this job. These people in Nepal, mostly women and children, are crushing rocks. You take a huge rock and keep chip chip chipping away at it until it is the size you want. In the US we have big machines that do this work. I am not sure but I don't think this pays very well either. I don't know about you but I find this mind boggling.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008 − Gas Shortage

Nepal has been experiencing gas shortages. These motorcycles are all in line for petrol.

Friday, March 21, 2008 − Kathmandu Valley

Kathmandu Valley which includes Bhaktapur has unbelievable architecture. Ancient structures with amazing detail. Words will not do it justice so check out these pictures.

Saturday, March 22, 2008 − Water in Nepal

Have I mentioned that you complain too much? Apparently people in Kathmandu do not have running water in their homes. These people are lined up to fill their containers and carry them home. How much water do these families use a day? How much do I use in a day? Answer: more than I'd want to carry. The cool thing is that these spouts are often shaped like dragons and very beautiful.

Sunday, April 20, 2008 − Back in NYC

Let me say my first impression was that my people, Americans, really are overweight. My second impression was that it's really clean here, well not my apartment, but that's another story. And so very free of vermin. I can put bags of anything on the floor here without worrying that a big rat will rip a hole in it. I can leave food out all night and nothing will ravage it. I shower whenever I want here because it is very easy. I turn on the tap and always there is hot water, day and night, always. No thought involved.

After all my kvetching about Indian people, there is something I really miss. People are really helpful in a way that is shamefully lacking New York City. In India, people know stuff: when the bus is arriving, which train car to get into, where to purchase a ticket. The passengers, employees, and vendors will all help you if they can. Unlike NYC, where if asked ask a question, employees, particularly MTA personnel, will respond rudely and inadequately. It's horrible and makes my head explode.

After having been away for 18 months in cultures where English is in no way prevalent. I find that not surprisingly, I can't remember certain words, or phrases. It comes but slowly. What I do find surprising is that I will often type a word that sounds similar to the word I am looking for. I mean we all do this but it is with words I am not even conscious that they are homonyms. Also, I delight in ordering things, and explaining how I want it. I can chit chat with anyone and everyone. What fun.