Otela me skupina nevjerovatno entuzijastičnih Art of Livingovaca i odveli me da plešem i pjevam po kućama. Išli smo kod ljudi (koje poznaju), pjevali i plesali, pa još malo plesali. Ovo kaže Wikipedija o tom običaju: “U Nepalu ljudi unutar zajednice plešu"Deusi i Bhailo”, vrsta pjesme i plesa u krugu. Idu po kućama, pjevaju, plešu i daju blagoslove kući, dok domaćini poklanjaju rižu, rotije (vrsta pogačice, kruha), voće i novce. Nakon festivala doniraju dio skupljenih novaca i hrane u dobrotvorne svrhe, a s ostatkom naprave piknik”.     

                 Za vrijeme odlaženja po kućama vozikali smo se s jednog kraja grada na drugi, tako da sam vidjela puno različitih kvartova i vozila se na raznim motorima. Kad se samo sjetim kako me bilo strah voziti se na motoru kad sam tek došla. To je bio najbolji način za obilaženje grada. Još uvijek nemam kartu Katmandua, i ne namjeravam je nabaviti. Pronađem sve što treba ili intuitivno ili mi netko lijepo objasni ili se samo dokotrljam otprilike. Neki dan me bus pokupio, pa izbacio nakon par stanica i priznao da uopće ne ide tamo gdje ja trebam ići, ali mi je svejedno prije toga lijepo uzeo 15 rupija za prijevoz. Opsovala sam, nakon duuugo vremena. Kasnije sam doznala da to rade i lokalcima, pa je oprošteno. Stvar je u tome da se radi o mini busevima, tempo-ima (manji kombi na tri kotača) i busevima u kojima su obično mladi dječaci kondukteri koji izvikuju smjer u kojem idu, pa kao na pazaru privlače ‘kupce’. Kako da ja znam u kojem smjeru idem. Znam samo da moram negdje određeno biti.

                 Kažem ovako: Ne volim biti turist, samo volim biti. Išla sam u Bhaktapur, mali grad do Kathmandua, za koji se plaća ulaz, i u kojem se može vidjeti puno hramova i mogu se uslikati lijepe fotografije. Popela sam se na vrh jednog hrama, lijepo mjesto za meditaciju. Druge sam ‘nako povirila. Ono što mi se stvarno svidjelo, je kada sam zapala u sporednu uličicu i sjedila s lončarem. Upoznala sam i njegovog prijatelja, Nepalca, koji je studirao za inženjera u Ukrajini, pa živio u Moskvi još 12 godina. Malo smo popričali na ruskom, pa me pozvao da besplatno prespavam kod njega kad god poželim. Upoznala sam mu i simpatičnu ženu i troje djece. Lončar i ja ostali smo sjediti na suncu još neko vrijeme. Rekao mi je sve o svojoj kući, pa gdje mu ostatak obitelji živi, koliko plaća poreza na kuću i biznis. Ispričao mi je sve što mu je važno i sve što je mogao s obzirom na ograničeni vokabular engleskog. Onda me uputio kako nabaviti propusnicu za grad ako bi htjela duže ostati i kako bih mogla za njega raditi, ako se odlučim vratiti. Isto tako je spomenuo da se Nepalke iznad trideset ne mogu više udati ovdje, pa odlaze, na što sam ja rekla da imam više od trideset, a on je rekao da zna. Čovjek zna znanje. Njemu bi se isplatilo kada bih mu ja radila za štandom. Iskreno, ljudi ovdje prodaju na način da te vuku za rukav. Nemaju takta. Ali svejedno im uspijeva. Ono što vidim kao problem je da kad kupac kaže ne, ne želim ili ne treba mi, u većini slučajeva prodavač iskreno ne razumije i nastavlja u svom tonu: ‘samo 300 rupija, gospođo’. Ovdje su svakako opušteniji nego u Thamelu (centru Katmandua) ili Indiji.

                 Odlazeći iz Bhaktapura, nakon dana provedenog sunčajući se, šetkajući, jedući najbolji jogurt na svijetu (jogurt je neviđeno dobar, slatkast i gust, jaako ukusan), prijatelj mi je zaustavio auto, jer su svi direktni busevi već bili otišli (do 6 sati). Auto nije bio taxi, već neki lokalac u trošnom autiću koji je izgledao kao taxi. Vozač je bio naprosto oduševljen cijelom pričom, upala mu je sjekira u med s lovom koju sam mu dala. Mislim da je bio malko lud. Stalno je ponavljao SVE riječi engleskog koje je poznavao, kao npr. ‘lijepo’, ‘dobro’, ‘okej’ i ‘uživaj’ kombinirajući ih s imenima mjesta za koja je znao da i ja znam kao Katmandu, Sadobato, Lalitpur, Bhaktapur itd. s upitnim tonom. Ja sam odgovarala s ok, ok, ok, da, da, da i da, jako lijepo. Smijuljio se i pričao nesuvislo, pa na kraju pustio malo Hindi glazbe. Evo što Wikipedija za autostopere ima za reći o stopanju u Nepalu, čisto zabave radi: 

“Stopanje je Nepalcima nepoznanica, ali u praksi stopanje ovdje funkcionira kao i u većin zemalja trećeg svijeta: može te netko prevesti ako im jasno daš do znanja da ‘nema novaca’ prije nego uđeš u vozilo. Nekada se može dugo čekati u određenim područjima gdje nema puno prometa, a na nekim cestama će jedino prijevozno sredstvo biti busevi. Međutim, na većim autoputevima lako je zaustaviti kamione. Sve više ljudi srednje klase u Katmanduu posjeduje osobna vozila, pa u okolici lako stopirati. Vozači kamiona najčešće ne govore engleski jezik, zato ponesi knjižicu s osnovnim izrazima na nepalskom – i zbog učestalosti indijskih vozača – ponesi jednu i za hindi.”

            Počinje mi samo malo nedostajati Ashram. Dopisivala sam se s cimericom iz Ashrama. Pitala sam je što ima novog, a ona je odgovorila slijedeće:

pa niš osim da je Guruji došo

ovi su se vjenčali

neki skup svetaca je u ashramu

niš posebno

            Što još? Čini mi se da ću ostati u Katmanduu i ne ići nigdje drugdje, ima još mjesta za vidjeti oko grada i u gradu, lijepo mi je. Imam Internet, lijepu i zabavnu obitelj, kul prijatelje, grad me voli. Vidjet ćemo. Sjeti se, ovo govori Goga, moguće da ću promijeniti plan iduće sekunde. Razmišljala sam o tome neki dan, koliko mi je zapravo lakše sada promijeniti mišljenje o nečemu, bez da se bezglavo držim nekog stava za kojeg trenutno smatram da je brilijantan, bez da ga mijenjam jer smatram da odražava ono tko ja jesam. Pratite? Mislim da bi trebali. Citiram svog prijatelja Britanca: ‘Ranije sam smatrao da je važno imati nepromjenjena i snažna mišljenja, ali sada vjerujem da su fleksibilnost i otvorenost uma bolji.’ i ‘Polagano sam odlučio da je bolje glasati za radničku stranku iako su korumpirani i žele izazvati rat, samo zato što su drugi još gori.’ Završit ću ovaj nekonzistentni blog koji ne vodi nigdje posebno s: GLASAJ!

P.S. Ovaj blog je napisan u originalu na engleskom i preveden na hrvatski.

________________________________________________________________

            I got kidnapped by an amazingly enthusiastic Art of Living team and got to do a traditional dance thing with them for the last few days. Going to people’s houses (people they know), doing a dance/sing thing and then dancing some more. This is actually what Wikipedia has to say about it: “In Nepal, during Diwali, people in the community play “Deusi and Bhailo” which is a kind of singing and dancing forming a group. People go to all the houses, play songs and dance, and give blessings to the visited house, whereas the home owner gives gifts like rice, Roti, fruits and money. After the festival, people donate some part of the collected money and food to the charity or welfare groups and with the rest of the money and food, they go for a picnic.”

                  During the house roaming, we went from one part of city to another, so I saw lots of different quarters and rode different bikes. And to think I was so scared of motor bikes when I first came. It was a brilliant way for sightseeing. I still had not got a map of Kathmandu. And do not want to. I intuitively find everything or someone explains nicely and I just kind of get there. The other day a bus took me in and kicked me out after a few stops to confess it was not at all heading where I wanted, but still took the 15 rupees for the fare. I swore, after a very long time. Later I found out they do this to locals as well, which is then forgivable. The thing is that there are these mini buses, tempos (three-wheel vehicles) and buses and they usually have a young boy as the ticket guy, who yells out the direction in which it is heading. And how am I supposed to know where I am heading. I just know I need to be somewhere.

                 I say: I do not like to be a tourist; I like tobe there. I went to Bhaktapur, which is a small city next to Kathmandu, where you pay to enter the city and can see so many temples and take nice pictures. I went up one, it was a nice place to meditate. Others I kind of brushed past. What I really enjoyed the most was going to a small side street and sitting with a potter. I met his friend, a Nepali guy, who studied to be an electrician in Ukraine and then lived in Moscow for another 12 years. We spoke some Russian and he invited me to stay at his house whenever I wanted, I met his wife and his three kids as well. The potter and I sat in the sun for some time. He told me all about his house, and where the rest of his family lives, and how much tax he pays for the shop and house. He was telling me all that was important to him and all he could have said in English, his vocabulary being a bit limited. He also implied I could get a visitor’s card at the gate if I wanted to stay longer and could work for him, if I decided to come back, that is. He also mentioned that after being 30 Nepali women have a hard time getting married here. I said I was thirty already, he said: I know. He knows his business. It would work well for him to have me at his stall. To be honest, here people sell things based on the amount of sleeve pulling they do. They have no tact. I guess it still works out for them. The most problematic thing is that when you say ‘no, I do not want or need this’, most likely they do not understand what all you are saying and continue their thing: ‘300 rupee, only, ma’am’. But much more relaxed than in Thamel (Kathmandu) or India.

                  Leaving Bhaktapur, after a days’ worth of sunbathing, roaming, eating the best yoghurt ever (there is a very good yoghurt thing going on there, sweet curdy yummie yoghurt), my friend hitched me a cab, because all the direct buses to my place were gone (by 6 pm), which turned out not to be a cab, but a local guy in a shabby car who was very much entertained how he’s giving me a ride home for a substantial amount of money. I think he was a bit crazy. He was repeating all the words in English he knew, comprising of ‘nice’,  ’good’ and ‘ok’ and ‘enjoy’, and combining them with names of places, like Kathmandu, Sadobato, Lalitpur, Bhaktapur etc. with a rising tone of voice that meant to be a question. I was saying, ok, ok, ok, yes, yes and yes, very nice. He was chuckling and talking nonsense and then played some Hindi music the rest of the way. This is what Hitchwiki has to say abouthitchhiking in Nepal- just for fun:

“The tradition of hitchhiking is unknown to the Nepali people, but in practice hitchhiking works the same as in most third world countries: rides can be had if you clearly explain "No money” before entering the car. Waiting times can be long in some areas due to lack of traffic, and in fact on some roads the only vehicles that will pass by are buses. However, on major highways it is fairly easy to stop a truck. The rise in car ownership among the new middle class makes it easy to hitchhike out of the Kathmandu valley. Truck drivers are unlikely to speak English. Bring a Nepali phrasebook and — because many truck drivers are coming from India — a Hindi phrasebook as well.“

           I am starting to miss the ashram a little bit. I had a chat with my ashram roommate. Asking her what was going on in the ashram she replied:

nothing, except Guruji has come

these guys got married

and there is a saints’ conference in the ashram

nothing special.

            What else? I think I’ll stay in Kathmandu and not go anywhere else, I am having a nice time. I have Internet, a nice and fun family, cool friends, the city loves me. Let’s see. Remember, this is Goga speaking, I might change my mind in a few moments. I was thinking about that the other day, how it is much easier now to change my mind and not to linger on the conviction that an idea I have is a brilliant one and should not change as it expresses who I really am. Are you following? I guess you should. I quote my British friend: ‘I used to think it was important to have strong consistent opinions but now I believe flexibility and open mindedness is better.’ and again: ‘Slowly I decided it was ok to vote for the labour party even though they are corrupt and war-mongering, because the others are worse.’ To end this lack-of-direction-and-consistency blog: GO VOTE! 

P.S. This blog was written in English and translated in Croatian.