Speaking of Adventure

Walking to the Women's Festival, Kathmandu, Nepal

I should have known better. Having been to Kathmandu on two previous trips, I should have recalled just how crazy the streets of Kathmandu could be. Then why do I feel so overwhelmed and exhausted after going out for a mere two hours?

The task seemed simple enough – go pick up half a dozen items I need for our 40-day trip north into Tibet. But two hours wandering the maze of alleys and unnamed streets in the Thamel District will shock your system. In the first 15 minutes I must have dodged, and been dodged by, more than a hundred motorcycles and mopeds. A few daredevils scared me by zipping past just a few inches from my elbow. Most beeped first to put me on notice, but their warnings were drowned out by an even louder armada of honking taxis, tiny cars, and the occasional three-wheeled vehicle that looked like a man-sized tricycle outfitted with an unmuffled motor. Add in bicycles, rickshaws, and the occasional wandering cow, and the stage is set for madness.

I suppose my non-native experience betrayed me. Sometimes self-preservation made me hesitate as I pondered how to cross an exceptionally busy street. Yet local people walked straight across, seemingly unfazed by the crossfire of vehicles they waded through. The bewildered look on my newbie face must have given the experienced drivers the go ahead signal to surge right past me.

All this activity swirls around you as you try navigating unfamiliar streets whose uneven surfaces range from dirt, to rock, to cobblestones and pavement, all within just a few yards. The gods test you further by trying to distract you with unfamiliar sights, sounds, foods and smells. As a final test of your multitasking abilities, you will also be repeatedly offered the chance to buy one tourist item after another. Carpets and necklaces. Tiger balm and wooden flutes. How many times, and in how many different languages, must I say “No” before they finally believe that I really do not want to buy a fiddle? Besides, it wouldn’t fit in my pack anyways.

Among this frenzy though are glimpses of serenity and joy. Like seeing a cluster of married women, all dressed in red for the festival honor them, walking together. Or the incense and flowers at a street-side shrine, sending prayers up to a beloved Hindu god. In two jam-packed hours, Kathmandu once again showed me how hidden in the crowding and craziness of a busy urban center, lies the basic joys that we all seek: friendship and peace.

I have come to Asia to climb a mountain. Perhaps the rewards and the memories will happen not on the summit though, but in the unexpected moments, both maddening and magical, along the way.

Namaste.