Bhaktapur
From the Monkey Temple, we wandered back out to the bus and went to the ancient city of Bhaktapur.
The city has been there for centuries, and there is a charge for tourists to enter
We walked through the city with our guide, looking at the buildings before we reached the house of the Living Goddess.
It was troubling, she was clearly not enjoying her apotheosis. Whilst dressed and made up impeccably, there was a sadness to her eyes, she was more object than person, brought out and displayed to tourists and to worshipers alike. You can understand the duty and obligation to her family, but you cannot see the divine. A Living Goddess is chosen, through a range of tests, but the most disturbing is where the prospective girls are locked in dark room together with men is terrifying masks who’s goal is to scare these children. A girl who is not scared is deemed the Goddess, at least until she reaches puberty, then she is on her own with limited prospects.
The story of the living goddess becomes even more tragic when you discover the back story that is seldom told. There was once an King who abducted a pre-pubescent young girl, raped her, and during the course of that assault, she died. His guilt drove him to find the first Living Goddess and create the institution. Generations of girls are deified in a twisted apology from a pædophile.
From there we did some more exploring around before we sorted out our photos for our trekking passes. The little photography studio was pretty good, a Fujifilm dSLR, pair of soft boxes and red velvet backing. He was a professional as well, adjusting my glasses and collar to ensure it was a flattering image.
After getting the pictures done, we went to the “Sunny View” rooftop terrace cafe for lunch and a view over Bokhara Square. The view was stunning.
We then explored “Durbar Square” the Royal Palace square, and it was here that we first met the “Bowl Man”
He was remarkably persistent, and singled out our Irish colleague for his attention. He was selling a staple of the Nepalese trinket trade, the singing bowl. You run a stick around the edge of the bowl and it creates a persistent note. Much like using a wine glass. The Bowl Man followed us for quite some time trying to sell his bowl to the Irish Gentleman, who finally agreed to buy one at the princely sum of $20.00, more or less the original asking price, and far, far more than it should have been.
Having made such a successful sale, he followed the rest of us for twenty minutes or so, attempting to move more of his merchandise. He was also cheerfully offering us way under is established sale price. He was nonplussed when he attempted to sell to the American gentleman who cheerfully informed him, that he “already had a singing bowl in every room, and two in the bathroom.”
The palace square itself was impressive and has a famous golden gate. (Not to be confused with the Golden Gate Bridge of course)
Through the gate we saw a Hindu temple, guarded by an armed soldier, that banned photography and the “Kings Pool”, where Nepalese kings of old would come to bathe. We assume that it was cleaned more regularly when there was a King to enjoy it.
We then climbed a temple to see the skyline, which was fantastic, mountains surround this ancient city, though the Nepalese call these peaks hills due to the lack of snow.
That are more or less the end of our exploring for the day, so we retired to the bus, and were followed once again by the remarkable Bowl Man, who had somehow found us once more.