In the morning, the Boddhisatva and I woke early so we went off to the alu wo (pakora) place for breakfast. Luckily breakfast places are open, though they seem to close very early and not even a cup of tea is available. The pakoras were fresh and delicious this morning and the light was clear. The market was bustling with most people dressed in red, some in orange, some accented with green, but when we saw anyone in black or white it was a shock and they were clearly making a statement. From breakfast we walked down to Mahabouddha, the terracotta encased in scaffolding and the scaffolding encased in the surrounding buildings, and to the Rudra Varna Mahavihar where a few days earlier the GF and I had searched for the copperworkers. The latter is a very pleasant and beautiful spot, filled with a very motley set of copper statues, from Trafalgar style lions to a king in field marshal pose to more traditional Buddhas and boddhisatvas. Outside it we were followed for a while by a man who sought to chat with the Boddhisatva who is an attractive woman. He trailed us for a few streets but fortunately we are old enough that it didn’t unsettle us too much, and besides he was a very small man and a drunk.
In the Durbar Square things were heating up, with thousands of people there including a steady stream climbing up to ring the great bell which tolled constantly throughout the day. We were told that the buffalo sacrifices were today, and indeed in the courtyard of the former palace were two small drugged buffalo, and smears of blood on the ground. Then the Boddhisatva wanted coffee and I remembered the washing was still in the machine, so we returned.
I couldn’t really keep away so I came back myself later, and found the crowds had thickened and there was an air of excitement. Then a flurry and several young men rocketed through the crowd, chased by a man holding a stick that seemed made of hair or hide. Then he retreated and they surged back towards him, making mocking sounds, and the whole thing was repeated, so I suppose it was something ceremonial. I entered the crowd and found a high place to stand but it was still hard to see. I think, inside the palace, another animal was sacrificed for shortly after some men with bloodspattered clothing and attended by others wearing red Prabha Bank t-shirts, emerged and were thoroughly photographed. All the time the bell kept tolling.
In the afternoon, when I went to the rooftop to hang up the second lot of laundry, I found it inhabited by about 30 children and men, flying kites. On seeing me there was a scurry away and children swarmed over the sides to the next house, with some so small they couldn’t climb over. So I took pity and lifted them over. The sky was filled with small paper kites and there were battles going on in the late afternoon light, the surrounding hills were outlined in gold. It was very beautiful and the lightness and joy took me back to Basant when I was a child and we flew kites from rooftops and it was a joyous holiday, not a commercial extravaganza and not what it is now, a holiday that is forbidden.