Tuesday 25 September 2007

Indra Jatra


Kumari Devi, the living goddess, sits in her chariot as she prepares to travel the streets of Kathmandu during the Indra Jatra festival.

The festival, named after the Hindu God of Rain, Indra, is celebrated by Buddhists and Hindus. Timed to celebrate the end of the Monsoon, the festival sees the appearance of Kumari, the living goddess, on the streets of the capital. Kumari is a girl who lives in the Kumari Bahal close to Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. Selected from a caste of Newari gold and silversmiths, she is customarily between 4 years old and puberty. If she bleeds, or when she reaches menstruation, then she is replaced by a new living goddess, and the girl returns to the mortal world.

A complex set of procedures are followed to choose each new living goddess. First she must conform to 32 physical characteristics, including eye colour, shape of teeth, and sound of voice. The suitable candidates are then placed in a darkened room, where horrific noises are made, men dance in grotesque masks and the heads of 108 buffaloes are displayed. Those who show no fear must then choose items of clothing and jewellery belonging to their predecessor. Only at this stage is a new Kumari Devi (goddess Kumari) chosen and installed at the Kumari Bahal, with her parents.

The origins of the custom date back 250 years during the reign of Jaya Prakash Malla, the last of the Malla kings of Kathmandu. One story tells of a paedophile king who had intercourse with a young girl who then died as a result. In penance he started venerating a young girl as a goddess. Another tells of a young girl, possessed by the goddess Durga who was banished from the kingdom by the King, but brought back by his furious wife and established as a living goddess.

Kumari makes only six forays into the world each year, the most spectacular being when she travels through Kathmandu on a large temple chariot over a three day period during the 8 days long Indra Jatra in September. On Kumari’s first appearance in front of a packed Durbar Square, the King receives her blessing for his continued reign of Nepal. However, this year, in a dramatic break with tradition, the king was not allowed to appear at the festival, his place being taken by the Prime Minister G.P Koirala. As the Monsoon rains continued to fall, and as the clamour for a Republic fails to abate, the King can no longer even rely on the symbolic confirmation of his continued reign in the country.

Friday 21 September 2007

For a New Politics?


King Gyanendra and other elites put in a public appearance during the Indra Jatra festival in 2006. However, the Constituent Assembly (CA) elections, to be held in Nepal in November, will determine, amongst other issues, the future of the Monarchy. In addition, the CA will restructure the Nepali state as per the People’s Movement mandate; ensure proportional representation (PR) at all levels of the state administration; institutionalise people’s sovereignty and rights; and formulate and enforce the law of the land. As currently constituted, the CA will have 497 seats: 240 seats via PR; 240 seats through a first past the post (FPTP) system; and 17 seats nominated by the Government cabinet.
However, the Maoists have just pulled out of the Interim Government and demanded the institution of a 22 point agenda, and disruption of the forthcoming elections. The principal issues at stake for the Maoists are the declaration of a Republic before the CA elections (thereby abolishing the Monarchy) and PR for all of the elected seats in the November elections. Their rationale for re-articulating these long standing demands now is: (i) they believe that domestic and foreign powers (read the U.S.; U.K.; India and the EU) are more interested in transforming the Maoists into a parliamentary force than in transforming the country's polity; (ii) the current Koirala government has failed to implement agreements reached with the Maoists, especially: removing military personnel from the royal palace; taking action against those indicted for human rights abuses; providing allowances for Maoist combatants; making public the cases of disappearance; and providing relief to the victims of the conflict; (iii) the Maoists have reviewed their organisational strength and popular base.
Frantic talks by the other political parties continue behind the scenes to keep the Maoists in the electoral process, even as the latter threaten mass peaceful agitations to disrupt the elections. The political situation remains in flux, and the King remains in his palace for the time being, at least.

Monday 17 September 2007

Monsoon Kathmandu

The Monsoon persists. Last night, torrential rain thundered booming groans, while violet white lightning momentarily illuminated the sodden city. Car horns blare as drivers navigate the narrow, rain-washed streets. Since 1990 the city's and the valley's population has doubled. The capital embodies the classic centre-periphery model of development. All economic, political and administrative power is located here. All decisions regarding the appropriation, distribution, and realisation of surpuses generated by production in the periphery (read: Nepal's rural areas of the Terai and the Hills) are made in Kathmandu. Outside of a very nascent energy sector (hydro-power to tap Nepal's immense water resources), most development is urban-biased. The gulf between the Kathmandy valley and the subsistence economy of rural Nepal is similar to that between the Global North and the Global South. Only the degree differs. So people migrate here, forced from the land by poverty, or by the human rights abuses perpetrated by the army, police, and Maoists during the ten year insurgency. Meanwhile, military patrols roam the city, blue black and green fatigue. Gun emplacements nestling behind sandbags complete the miltarization of urban space. That and the 3 bombs that exploded two weeks ago in 3 locations on the city outskirts - a reminder that, although the Maoists have ceased fire and joined the interim government, the Madhesis (people of the Terai region)continue to agitate against their historic (economic, political and cultural) marginalisation.

Of course, as some of the photos on this blog attest, there is still much to enjoy in this place. Looking out over the temples of Durbar square, the foothills of the Himalayas stretch into the distance. On a clear day snow peaks tower behind the hills, and the hilltop monkey temple gleams white amongst the green forest. Temple bells ring across Hanuman Dhoka. Trees entwine with temples. Every morning in Basantapur square, the chai wallahs brew hot sweet milky tea, and cook fresh aloo paratha (fried potato-filled chapatis). The locals squat on the walls and sip their steaming chai.

Friday 14 September 2007

Transition to Democracy: a brief history


Nepali society is permeated with traditions of status and privilege (dominated until recently by the royal family), and social, economic and political inequalities which are compounded by a caste system. Literacy rates (37 per cent) and life expectancy (55 years) remain low, while over half the population remain beneath the poverty line. Since the mid 1980s, Nepal’s economy has been increasingly integrated with regional and global economies, characterised by neoliberal approaches to development, which have deregulated capital and labour markets, removed price controls, and privatized state-owned enterprises. Following the introduction of a multi-party parliamentary system as a result of the democratic revolution of 1990, Nepal has also witnessed political and economic instability as a result of: (i) constant changes of national government as political power has shifted between opposing electoral political parties such as the Nepali Congress Party and the Communist Party of Nepal (United Marxist Leninist); (ii) a Maoist insurgency waged against the government since 1996, which has displaced many rural inhabitants to Kathmandu and undermined the Nepalese economy; and (iii) the massacre of the Royal family in 2001 which saw King Birendra’s brother, Gyanendra, assume Royal power in the country.This instability culminated in February 2005, when, in the face of the ongoing Maoist insurgency, King Gyanendra staged a Royal-military coup, dissolving the Nepalese Parliament indefinitely, enforcing martial law, and assuming control of the government. In opposition to the royal takeover, a broad alliance of political parties, called the Seven Party Alliance (SPA), was organised, calling for a peace process in the country to stop the violence generated by the Maoist insurgency against the government. Subsequently, the SPA was joined by the Maoists in a broad front against the Royal regime. During April 2006, a series of protests focused in Kathmandu, termed the People's Movement, or Jana Andolan, (which included strikes, economic blockades, and mass demonstrations), were initiated by the SPA and the Maoists that culminated in the King reinstating parliament. By May 2006, an interim government had been established comprising all of the major opposition parties, including the Maoists. This government unanimously voted to strip the King of many of his powers (including his control of the army); to draft a new constitution, and to initiate a peace process that included all political actors within the country. With the United Nations in Nepal to oversee the disarmament process of the Maoists, National elections, postponed in June 2007, are now scheduled for November 2007.

The 'hood: Bhaktapur backstreet


The 'hood: Monkey Temple from Hanuman Dhoka


The 'hood: Freak Street Masks


The 'hood: Tree Temple


The 'hood: Swayambhunath stupa


Ascetic Aesthetics

Hindu holy men, or sadhus, renounce the material world in their search for enlightenment. Ascetic practices, such as yoga, are one path to penetrate maya, the world of illusion, in order to perceive the reality within. For the faithful, darshan, or viewing, of the holy man confers a spiritual investment upon the viewer. Aesthetic practices, such as posing for tourist cameras in order to receive bucksheesh, or payment, confers a financial investment on the sadhu business.

Memories of Nepal's 1990 revolution

The popular withdrawal of consent from the Royal regime was physically written upon the urban landscape of Kathmandu. People’s contestation of space inscribed upon the city a mosaic of signs which spoke of the ferment in its streets: broken windows of government offices; burned-out skeletons of government buses; torn-up street stones, used in battles with the police, lay strewn across streets and sidewalks; pro-democracy and political party slogans began to appear on the walls of the city and its temples; on the burning streets of Patan, peasant women formed an impromptu road blockade. At night the darkness was aglow with the orange spectre of street fires casting giant shadow arabesques against the buildings of Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. Riot police swamped the square, heralded by the whine of sirens, the explosion of tear gas canisters, and the firing of guns. After the demonstrators retreated, the windows of local hotels and residences were stoned by the police in order to intimidate local people. Down a sidestreet the bloody bodies of activists were loaded onto the back of a military jeep. In the morning the streets were strewn with rubble and speckled with the charred remains of car tires, buildings were blackened and burned by the incendiary of protest, buses and police vehicles lay abandoned, overturned and burned out.

Inscription of caste


Numerous winding backstreets honeycomb the old Nepalese city of Kathmandu. Some lead to other streets, some to community squares, or chowks, still others to courtyards containing Hindu temples and Buddhist stupas. One day, while walking from Durbar Square in the old city to the tourist ghetto of Thamel in the newer north, I noticed two stone lions guarding an alleyway entrance. They were painted white, with yellow manes and vermillion tongues and eyes. Intrigued, I turned down the alleyway and chanced upon a large courtyard, in whose center stood a huge white stupa, about 30 feet high. Strung from the gold-leafed spire on top of the temple were hundreds of red, blue, yellow, green and white prayer flags fluttering in the breeze. Around the base were eight stations of the Buddha, small brightly coloured shrines corresponding to the eightfold path - the aathangika magga - the way out of suffering. People would pray at these shrines while cicumparambulating, clockwise, three times around the stupa. Enclosing the courtyard, were wooded facaded houses and apartments, with balconies over which washing hung. An odour of wood fires and cooking filled the air.
Many smaller buddha shrines filled the courtyard, and in between them children played football. Every so often, a devotee would slowly walk around the main stupa three times. In their hands the devotees held wooden malas, or rosaries, whose beads they counted as they recited their prayers. On route they would pass enormous temple bells, and would strike them. The chime would reverberate around the courtyard and hang in the air, slowly fading away, amid the sounds of children’s laughter and shouting. No-one seemed to mind or, indeed notice, the children playing around them. This sacred space could also accommodate, without rancour, the anarchic world of children’s play. I found a step in the corner of the courtyard and sat down to take in the scene, watching a group of children kick and chase a small ball around the shrines.
My attention became attracted by the shape of a figure passing by. An old man was slowly circling the stupa. He was bent almost double, his arms hanging by his sides. He walked three shuffling steps forward, then stopped. Upon stopping, he struggled to straighten his back, to stand upright. His body shook with the exertion, and all he could manage was to lift his head and shoulders about halfway to what would be a standing posture. Then his body would seemingly give way under the strain and he would collapse back into his doubled up form and shuffle a few more steps forward. It was painful to watch the repetition of this ritual every few paces, as if he was struggling under some immense invisible weight. A weight that, however hard the man tried to throw off it off, continued to press down upon him, continued to shape him to the intolerable pressure of its load.
The light around the courtyard slowly mellowed to a rich golden colour, and a smell of incense permeated the air, mixing with the wood-smoke. Some of the children began to make their way home in small noisy groups. Looking at the old man, I was reminded of the porters in the old city who could be seen every day carrying beds, tables, wardrobes and other assorted furniture from one destination to another. Although this man was now too old and frail to continue to work in the caste of porters, he continued to be marked by his lifetime of servitude. The remaining children stood up and gaily ran off in the direction of the main street, shouting and laughing. I remained seated, transfixed by the old man. I shivered, noting for the first time the coolness of approaching evening. The old man completed his third circumperambulation. Vainly, he tried once more to stand up straight, to look up at the sky rather than upon the earth. However, the way out of suffering seemed to elude him. Slowly, he shuffled down the alleyway, and turned past the white lions to disappear from view.

The 'hood: Durbar Square


Alter-ego # 9 (White Bhairav)


Your humble narrator (Pashupatinath meditation)




Kathmandu from the South