Kathmandu's Most Endangered Species

It's festival time again in Nepal, which means a time of animal sacrifice and, of course, the eating of meat. The animal of choice for both activities? The goat. Every morning for the past week and a half I have left my house and witnessed the butchering of multiple goats on the ten-minute walk to my bus stop. They're everywhere. Dead goats. Live goats. But when you see the few living ones you know it's just a matter of days before it's their turn. Today is one of the final days of the festival and I've haven't seen any living goats yet. I swear, any goat that had been living in Kathmandu before the start of this festival is no longer alive. Or has just a day or two left at this point.

There are three different Nepali words for goat. Bakraa, the femal goat. Khasi, the male castrated goat. Bokaa, the pure male goat - desired for sacrificial practices.

The name of this festival is Dasain, the most important in the Nepali calender. Depending on who you talk to, it lasts between ten to fifteen days. Think of the excitement level in the US during the month of December and then multiply it by ten or so and you'll only begin to get a sense of the momentousness of Dasain. The first few days are filled with pujaa (prayer/worship) and shopping. This is the time of year when everyone gets fitted for new saris or kurtaas or suits. Children get new clothes and toys. And then everyone wears their new duds for the remainder of the holiday. You can see the shift in attire during Dasain on the streets of the city. A few days later, the pujaa for all mechanical equipment takes place - worship for all cars, generators, motorbikes, guns, you name it. Goats are sacrificed and the blood is sprinkled on whatever tools a family owns and then they are decked out with garlands of flowers and colorful powders. All cars around the city these days have flower wreaths tied to their grill. The purpose of the pujaa is to prevent accidents and offer appreciation for their services.

At the end of the first week, families in Kathmandu begin to leave the city, in their pujaa-ed vehicles, for their gaau (home village) for the real celebrations. The majority of my host family left for the village, approximately ten hours west of Kathmandu by car, last week. My aamaa (Nepali mom) has been quite sick lately - complications from a surgery she had two months ago - and due to the amount of pain she has been in and the lack of medical facilities in close proximity to the gaau, she and my little sister, Garima, remained behind. Needless to say, she was not pleased to miss out on the usual holiday festivities. Instead of swinging on pings (the Nepali word for swing - another part of this festival - the construction of massive swings out of bamboo shoots), flying kites, and celebrating with her entire family in the village, she's stuck back in Kathmandu with her sick aamaa and American didi (big sister). The only thing comparable I could think of was the year we missed Jody and Dan's Millennium New Year's Party because Miles and I had pink eye. But that doesn't begin to convey the disappointment Garima must be feeling. So this weekend I tried to be sympathetic and understanding. Despite the fact that she is a thirteen-year-old girl and thus a part of my least favorite demographic, I've really grown to love Garima over the past month and a half. She's funny, very bright, and extremely helpful. But this weekend my patience was truly tested. Because aamaa is in such pain, we've been housebound with shitty Hindi soap operas and talent shows for entertainment. And a deck of cards. Don't get me wrong, I love playing cards. I'm a big fan of cribbage and hearts and gin. I enjoy a good game of cards. But Garima has an attention span for card games like I've never seen before. When I come downstairs in the morning, she has the deck ready and such convincing doe-eyes that I have no other choice but to smile and join her. As soon as I finish my lunch plate, she has started dealing the next game. It's impressive, her ability to find entertainment in card games after hours, days, of playing. I had to teach her how to play Solitaire so that I could have a break and a chance to do some reading.

My other means of escaping Garima's incessant desire to play cards is to help my aamaa with cooking and cleaning. She's been so uncomfortable due to the pain, so her mobility is quite limited. I sit with her and chop vegetables or roll out dough for roti (mine are never as perfectly circular as hers - though it makes her laugh to see me try, and fail). We've had very simple meals this week, which is fine by me, and I enjoyed trying to ease her load a bit. The typical command of a Nepali aamaa to her guests, children, and husband is "basnus, basnus," which means "sit down, relax," as she goes about the household chores and prepares chiya or a food. I've appreciated the opportunity to take over the dishwashing or the cooking and say to her "basnus, basnus."


Dasain seems to be winding down right now. For a few days, Kathmandu felt truly empty. With everyone out in the gaau, shops were closed and the amount of vehicles on the streets was so drastically less than the usual chaotic bustle of traffic, it was quite jarring. Kathmandu almost felt quiet for a couple days. Today marks the first day in a few that stores and shops are open again and it's clear that people are beginning to return to the city and the normal pace of life. Except for the fact that there are no longer goats on the streets of the city. They're all dead, I'm sure of it.

Just as Kathmandu returns to normal, my program is headed out of town for a couple of weeks. On Wednesday morning we will fly from Kathmandu to Pokhara, a smaller city northwest of here and the gateway for the Annapurna range of the Himalayas. We will stay in Pokhara just one night before we board another plane, a very small one, to Jomsom, in the Mustang region of Nepal. The flight is supposedly just 20 minutes in length but during that time we fly from 2700 ft to 9000 ft and along one of the world's most dramatic gorges, the Kali Gandaki, between the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri ranges. I'm a little nervous.

We then head slightly south to a small village called Tukuche, where we will stay for six nights or so with families. Mainers: This gaau is known for it's coffee brandy. I'll let you know how it compares to Allen's. I have a hunch it will be a little tastier.

After the village homestay we will first head north to visit Mukinath, a religious pilgrimage site, and then embark on a trek from south of Tukuche down to Pokhara.

In sum, I'll be out of contact until the beginning of November. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward feeling the mountain air and having Himalayan views for the next two weeks.

A few photos from the past few weeks:

A Dasain swing, or ping, constructed from bamboo shoots