I arrived at Tribhuven International Airport (http://www.tiairport.com.np/) in Kathmandu, where it was gloomy, grey, and pouring out. I didn’t hear thunder and the rain was nothing compared to torrential downpours in Kansas, but it was certainly raining steadily. I remembered that on the pilgrimage last year I had no trouble using Indian money, and since I was running late I didn’t want to hold up the travel agent anymore, so I didn’t stop to exchange money. I furthermore figured I could do it at the hotel front desk. I met up with the travel agent Naresh, who in the airport stood with a cardboard sign with my name on it, and he led me out to a small white car with a (male, of course) driver.

I climbed into the back seat through the left passenger door, but the travel agent started getting into the car through the same door, so I quickly slid across the seat. Oddly, after we were settled into the back seat of the car, I noticed his right hand was draped across the back of the seat, almost as if he were trying to touch my shoulders. I scooted as far as I could to the window and pictured him sitting in the front seat, next to the driver, a skinny young male with curly hair. The travel agent, Naresh, was rather ordinary-looking, with a conservative short hairdo and a pencil-thin mustache, and he wore Western clothes, including a windbreaker; he looked to be between thirty-five and forty years old.

By the time I was riding in the back seat, the rain came down pretty heavily. I asked, “Has it been raining like this for long?”

Naresh, said, “Only the past fifteen, twenty minutes.” I laughed.

“As soon as I got here!” I said. I had seen the rain before the plane landed.

On the train early that morning, my virus had finally reached the hacking-up-yellow-phlegm stage, and I was excessively spacey for someone who’s been meditating for several years. Very congested, complete with congested waxy ears, here I was in Nepal on my own and having trouble understanding Naresh’s English or just about anyone’s English, when they actually spoke English.

During the rainy ride, I was absorbed into sightseeing, as I cheerfully observed to Naresh, “Kathmandu looks a lot like India.” He agreed, fortunately for me; I wouldn’t want to offend. It has much the same architectural styles, in particular simple two- or three- or more story buildings that are like blocks gradually put on top of each other and with balconies stuck on. Typically they are painted some variation of yellow, white, or off-white. Many buildings and shops include roll-up garage doors or wooden double doors that are open during business hours. What I find different about the architecture was two things: 1) the wooden double doors in shops often have nothing but a narrow doorframe between them, so that they weren’t so much double doors as multiple doors and you’d be looking at a one-story brick building in which the front is a row of three or four sets of accordion-like doors. 2) Elaborately carved wooden window and doorframes, but maybe it’s just the particular style that I found different. However, it’s definitely different in that the windows tend to be covered with elaborately carved wooden trellises. This is on the older buildings, perhaps several centuries old.

Between the airport and the Thamel, the touristy neighborhood where the hotel is located, I saw many more cars (Japanese or Korean) than I would have seen in India, and absolutely no rickshaws or motor rickshaws. This was sort of a culture shock. Certainly the Thamel neighborhood has the three-wheel bicycle kind of rickshaws, but I haven’t seen any of those odd little motor rickshaws in Kathmandu; I suspect they’re exclusively an Indian vehicle.

At the hotel I got my room key and, in the lobby, gave my passport to Naresh and got an update. The lobby is enormous and flashy; in addition to gold Buddhas and Tibetan thangkas (tapestries), it has very cushy chairs, couches, and coffee tables. In summary, at some point the following afternoon he would have my passport, Chinese visa, and plane tickets and bring them to me.

I was so out of it and confused, not to mention probably feverish, that I had looked at my itinerary and thought I was supposed to get a Chinese visa at the airport. I had asked around and found out that I supposedly had to go to the Chinese embassy, so I mentioned this in the car on the way to the hotel. But no, the travel agent was taking care of all that stuff. Whew. Naresh asked me if I wanted to do any sightseeing tomorrow, and I expressed an interest in visiting the Boudhanath Stupa and the Swayambhunath Temple, and so we made an agreement on that, and he told me how much it would cost; he also didn’t want me to pay in Indian rupees.

Another scatter-brained thing I did, having a cold and having gone for a while without a shower, was to take a quick shower in my hotel room after I took my bags up; really I should have taken the shower after we parted. It was really inconsiderate of me to leave the travel agent waiting in the lobby, although the couches in the lobby are far more comfy than the beds. Fortunately, my shower was very quick.

The hotel looks flashy out front and in the lobby, complete with bellhops and shiny gold Buddha statues, but the room is plain and has no bottled water (maybe supplying two complimentary bottles of water is just an Indian practice in hotels and guesthouses), and the beds, which have very dark green coverlets and white sheets, are sunken in the center. I suppose if I were less lazy I could take the mattress and turn it over, though it might be just as sunken on the underside. Of course, I did request budget hotels, so I should be surprised I don’t have to squat and take bucket baths.

I parted with the travel agent at the Vaishali Hotel in the Thamel neighborhood and felt relieved to be on my own instead of with Naresh. I wandered the narrow, medieval, dirty and potholed streets, which are full of white Western tourists and colorful shops. While I stood in front of a tiny shop and bought bottled water, the electricity went out. Despite the rain and lack of electricity, I wandered around sight-seeing for some time; I didn’t want my melancholy to prevent me from getting a taste of the neighborhood.

This website gives a brief history of Nepal, particularly the royalty thereof:  http://www.thamel.com/htms/history.htm

Directory of the Nepalese government:  http://www.nhp.com.np/dir/politics/politics.php

A resource page about Nepal:  http://www.zum.de/whkmla/region/india/xnepal.html