I arrived in Kathmandu on June 5th from Tibet via van on a mountainous and patchy Friendship Highway (China-Nepal friendship), crossing the border on foot over the Friendship Bridge. As any four of my travel mates can attest, the line between Nepal and China was so incredibly stark in every way the moment one crossed the bridge and entered the small gate past the first guard in a blue army uniform (Cecilia depicts this moment well in her post) – one’s senses get slammed with the smell of the Nepali food and warm, tropical air, and the landscape and people look completely different. The first question that arose for me was why the friendship highway so abruptly deteriorated in Nepal, having witnessed such a poor condition of the road as opposed to the Chinese polished, newly paved side (minus one deadly kilometer near Zhangwu). Recalling the recently donated highway to Croatia by Germany in the Balkans (in its finished condition), I presumed the Friendship Highway implied some sort of a collaboration between the two countries, even a gift; well, wrong assumption. The edgy highway in Nepal implied the political deadlock I have been reading about vigorously in the six months prior to coming to Nepal on my International Field Program, personifying Nepali politics that prevent any true decision-making and change to occur, such as completing a begun infrastructure project (with an additional lack of resources). I thought: I have arrived in Nepal.
Kathmandu, a place in the Valley
My imaginary Shangri-la. I have been waiting to see this place that I learned so much about, turning it into a dream, romanticizing it in spite of my better judgment. On our descent from the tall mountains into Kathmandu Valley, I nervously anticipated the moment of coming face to face with my new city, Kathmandu, and becoming one with it for the next two months. In spite of pondering the state of the highway and Nepali politics, I was slowly enjoying the warmth of the Nepali air, its greenery that I missed while in the heights of the Everest, and the colors that were gracing my eyes. I felt more at ease instantly, and while having loved Tibet, I left China with near indifference.
The excitement of seeing the remainder of our IFP group that evening (June 5th) mixed with the excitement of the big plan being realized left me in a nervously anxious state, and my first contact with Kathmandu surprised me. The descent was slow, but the awaiting city in the valley was not, and I was suddenly cut off in my day dreaming and thoughts when I found myself in a whirlwind of vehicles, dust, construction, heat, busyness that poured from every corner, and the ride that became less than pleasant. The China road took us slowly to an adjacent avenue that led us past the former palace grounds into Thamel, where we were happily greeted by our Professor Ashok Gurung (for me, the moment that marked a true beginning of my Summer IFP).
It took a few days to orient myself after a peaceful Tibet that allowed for this contrast in Kathmandu. I cannot quite describe my first contact with it, as this memory has been replaced with a little over a week’s worth of getting to know it, understand it, and surrender to it. It was a feeling of surprise and curiosity, a diversion from my dream where my mythical city became the mere urban place that attacked my senses indiscriminately. I quickly learned, through exploration during our first (orientation) week, that I would love it indiscriminately in return.
To me, a place is a being too. It has its own character and soul. The most intriguing part of arriving in it is the search for these two things. The city can let you in, like a person, or it can keep you at a distance. One forms a relationship with the place, and learns to cohabitate (or resists). To me, getting to know a place is synonymous to getting to know another person, and this is the search that keeps me going. This is what makes me love cities that are so similar in their urban character, yet so different in their unique soul. Again, uncovering the layers that determine why one is like so is the most exciting task.
Kathmandu. Our oneness lies within our multi-layers that I understand so well due to my internal composition. We are both complex, and there is always more depth to go into, but both are able to reveal ourselves easily, and both exist as any other large city, and any other ordinary person. Yet, it is somewhere within our layers that our soul resides; our true intangible nature, containing our unique essences. Somehow, we both grew quickly due to forces that neither could control or shape, but we are learning to keep control of our growth, steering it our way. We have our histories, our personal landmarks in every part of ourselves, but we are okay to live as a decentralized whole, reigning it all in. Perhaps we realize our potential while reconciling with the inevitable surrender. The best we can do is listen to any alarms and act accordingly, in-tuned to our growth. That is certainly the best of what we need to do for each other right now. I need to listen and orient myself in this new environment, as I breathe in Kathmandu every day, trying to understand it, and learning to cohabitate with it. Unlike Beijing, this city unconditionally lets me in, and for that, I am already grateful.
Happy at peace and feeling at home in Kathmandu,
Dragica
P.S. As everyone else in my group, I have been given a Nepali name by our IFP Team here in Nepal, and it is Durga (Goddess). My host family calls me that, and I have been soaking up Nepali language since moving into their home this Sunday (June 13). I feel a formation of yet another identity here, and I love carving out my place in a Nepali home, my internship host organization, and beyond. Both being with my host family, and being in Nepal, feel natural to me. Now if only the language could flow so easily.. It is by far the most important aspect for coming to terms with another place and culture, and my greatest challenge thus far.
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