maharajgunj - november 6, 2006
Maharajgunj
go on
say it
three times fast
dare ya ;o)
i'm not sure whether my present ebulliance (for there can be no other word) is because i got to visit the picturesque wasteland of maharajgunj twice today or because of my many accomplishments, which have left me feeling a little flushed with...something. but maybe that's just the two scoops of ice cream on the apple pie i had after lunch at 3 Sisters Rooftop Restaurant with my second-favourite server in Boudha, Bharat.
maharajgunj. it's sort of an area, and sort of a road that emerges northward out of the embassy-speckled area of kathmandu called Lazimphat, where the Canadian Cooperation Office-Nepal, which functions as our embassy, is located. on its own, the name "maharajgunj" has a kind of kitchy piquancy of which i'm beginning to understand only the nepali people are capable. but when coupled with "Ring Road", which is the intersection at which the Bangladesh Embassy is located, and where i made my way twice today, it takes on that old uglybeautiful character that i adore about this country.
me approaching one of many expectant taxi drivers outside Boudhanath gate this morning just past 9am, for Bangladesh visa applications can only be lodged at 9:30am: "Bangladesh Embassy? Maharajgunj & Ring Road? Do you know it?"
taxi driver: "yes"
me: "meter ok?"
taxi driver: "ok"
Maharajgunj & Ring Road
it's like two trains, one ugly and one beautiful, started off on opposite sides of the known (or maybe unknown) universe, built up to near-light speed and collided at the top of the indian subcontinent and, oops, out popped Nepal
even the Bangladesh Embassy itself, though representative of another sovereign state, evokes this strange quality. one could almost miss it. from the insane, exhaust-filled Ring Road, just east of its intersection with the utterly bewildering Maharajgunj, it appears to be nothing more than a squat, hospital-green painted brick structure with a militarily grey door and a small (5-inch square) window. inside the massive gate beside all of this, a gate presided over by a lovely hindu man and one of the most exquisitely beautiful nepali soldiers i've yet encountered--both of whom respond readily to smiles like most people here--another world awaits. it's a world of multi-leveled, horticultured, cobble-stoned luxury, with very expensive cars, swish-ish (it is still the third world) offices and very efficient, if not particularly jovial visa officials.
but before discovering the wonderful world of embassy, i first had to cross the Ring Road.
crossing any road in Kathmandu is an exercise of faith and considerable risk, but i've been practicing and have learned that one does it in carefully strategized stages, though one must be prepared to suddenly shift the strategy when circumstances--like, say a large, swiftly moving bus, or a motorcycle veering out from behind a slowly moving one--demand. waiting for a "break in traffic" would require more time than it would take me to fully understand Kierkegaard, if that's even a possibility. so one picks breaks piecemeal all the way across the road, moving slowly or quickly enough to either be an obstacle that no one will hit, or to avoid being an obstacle that someone will hit. it's a fascinating game. the bonus card is when, out of one of the many corners of one's eyes--since they're all simultaneously active--one spots a local or two also trying to get to the other side. like strangers suddenly caught in the embrace of a lively dance, we make our way among the craziest traffic most people will ever encounter. it's like swimming upstream, because you have to angle your approach according the size, speed, condition and proliferation of traffic. in nepal, traffic jams are a gurl's best friend.
so, like, i made it. i wanted to jump up and down and wave to my taxi driver, who offered to wait while i endured whatever process awaited me in the embassy. but seeing the soldierly face peering at me out of the little square window, i opted for decorum.
it's always a strange feeling leaving my passport in the control of a foreign power that is accessible to me only by a careening, 20-minute taxi ride through a thicket of crazy drivers, bikers, cycylists, rickshaw drivers, pedestrians and the occasional cow. but, after a process that took only about 15 minutes altogether, i was bid to return at 4:30pm to retrieve my passport with the visa, at which time i would be given a receipt.
"ah-HA!" i hear you all thinking. "silly boy. you left without a receipt?!" yes. yes, i did. i think i was still flush with my successful negotiation of the taxi ride, the taxi waiting, crossing the road and actually sitting in a visa officer's tidy office making my application in the freakin' Bangladesh Embassy in Maharajgunj, Kathmandu (and this time it couldn't be apple pie, since that was yet to come), that i simply forgot to think what leaving my passport without a piece of paper to prove that i was ever there might mean in a few hours time.
fortunately, none of this intruded on my bliss until about 3pm.....while i was eating apple pie and ice cream at the 3 Sisters Rooftop Restaurant, chatting with Bharat about the likely outcome of the talks among the government and maoists and goodness knows which players (i don't pay much attention to it) that would end at 4pm today. note to self....
but something has shifted in the last 48 hours. a kind of faith has settled in and, whatever (im)practicalities i might discover back at the Embassy, i was satisfied that i could handle it. another taxi ride, another perilous crossing of the Ring Road, a lovely namaste from the lovely hindu man behind the big, gray gate, a stolen glance at the entire edifice of the incredibly beautiful soldier, then a smile, a little nervous walk around the curving driveway to the embassy building because i was 10 minutes early, and before i could even apologize for being early (because, like, you know, i would be the kind of person to feel the need to do that), i was being waved briskly into the visa officer's office and had my passport--with the visa--and my receipt in my hand by 4:25pm. i almost skipped back out, but settled on a more extravagant namaste for the lovely hindu man in the topi that matches his suit, a wider smile for the soldier and just as big a smile from him, back across the Ring Road into my waiting taxi with the friendly driver and back to Boudha.
phew.
between the morning and afternoon visits to the Bangladesh Embassy, i made my first visit to Child Haven since before i left on trek on october 12. i had a chance to meet with the two senior staff alone (a rare treat since the office is usually as chaotic as the Ring Road) and was able to have a wonderful chat about why the Child Haven experience hadn't worked for me and was able to thank them for their understanding through my fumblings about. it was a fantastic opportunity to clear my heart and the air and to really prepare for the next piece with Bonnie-ma.
i have had a very successful day.
so ya. ebullient. it's a good word.
and it's good to feel that way today.
(it's also the second day of the buddhist full moon celebrations around the stupa and you should all read rod's tales of cambodia...)
go on
say it
three times fast
dare ya ;o)
i'm not sure whether my present ebulliance (for there can be no other word) is because i got to visit the picturesque wasteland of maharajgunj twice today or because of my many accomplishments, which have left me feeling a little flushed with...something. but maybe that's just the two scoops of ice cream on the apple pie i had after lunch at 3 Sisters Rooftop Restaurant with my second-favourite server in Boudha, Bharat.
maharajgunj. it's sort of an area, and sort of a road that emerges northward out of the embassy-speckled area of kathmandu called Lazimphat, where the Canadian Cooperation Office-Nepal, which functions as our embassy, is located. on its own, the name "maharajgunj" has a kind of kitchy piquancy of which i'm beginning to understand only the nepali people are capable. but when coupled with "Ring Road", which is the intersection at which the Bangladesh Embassy is located, and where i made my way twice today, it takes on that old uglybeautiful character that i adore about this country.
me approaching one of many expectant taxi drivers outside Boudhanath gate this morning just past 9am, for Bangladesh visa applications can only be lodged at 9:30am: "Bangladesh Embassy? Maharajgunj & Ring Road? Do you know it?"
taxi driver: "yes"
me: "meter ok?"
taxi driver: "ok"
Maharajgunj & Ring Road
it's like two trains, one ugly and one beautiful, started off on opposite sides of the known (or maybe unknown) universe, built up to near-light speed and collided at the top of the indian subcontinent and, oops, out popped Nepal
even the Bangladesh Embassy itself, though representative of another sovereign state, evokes this strange quality. one could almost miss it. from the insane, exhaust-filled Ring Road, just east of its intersection with the utterly bewildering Maharajgunj, it appears to be nothing more than a squat, hospital-green painted brick structure with a militarily grey door and a small (5-inch square) window. inside the massive gate beside all of this, a gate presided over by a lovely hindu man and one of the most exquisitely beautiful nepali soldiers i've yet encountered--both of whom respond readily to smiles like most people here--another world awaits. it's a world of multi-leveled, horticultured, cobble-stoned luxury, with very expensive cars, swish-ish (it is still the third world) offices and very efficient, if not particularly jovial visa officials.
but before discovering the wonderful world of embassy, i first had to cross the Ring Road.
crossing any road in Kathmandu is an exercise of faith and considerable risk, but i've been practicing and have learned that one does it in carefully strategized stages, though one must be prepared to suddenly shift the strategy when circumstances--like, say a large, swiftly moving bus, or a motorcycle veering out from behind a slowly moving one--demand. waiting for a "break in traffic" would require more time than it would take me to fully understand Kierkegaard, if that's even a possibility. so one picks breaks piecemeal all the way across the road, moving slowly or quickly enough to either be an obstacle that no one will hit, or to avoid being an obstacle that someone will hit. it's a fascinating game. the bonus card is when, out of one of the many corners of one's eyes--since they're all simultaneously active--one spots a local or two also trying to get to the other side. like strangers suddenly caught in the embrace of a lively dance, we make our way among the craziest traffic most people will ever encounter. it's like swimming upstream, because you have to angle your approach according the size, speed, condition and proliferation of traffic. in nepal, traffic jams are a gurl's best friend.
so, like, i made it. i wanted to jump up and down and wave to my taxi driver, who offered to wait while i endured whatever process awaited me in the embassy. but seeing the soldierly face peering at me out of the little square window, i opted for decorum.
it's always a strange feeling leaving my passport in the control of a foreign power that is accessible to me only by a careening, 20-minute taxi ride through a thicket of crazy drivers, bikers, cycylists, rickshaw drivers, pedestrians and the occasional cow. but, after a process that took only about 15 minutes altogether, i was bid to return at 4:30pm to retrieve my passport with the visa, at which time i would be given a receipt.
"ah-HA!" i hear you all thinking. "silly boy. you left without a receipt?!" yes. yes, i did. i think i was still flush with my successful negotiation of the taxi ride, the taxi waiting, crossing the road and actually sitting in a visa officer's tidy office making my application in the freakin' Bangladesh Embassy in Maharajgunj, Kathmandu (and this time it couldn't be apple pie, since that was yet to come), that i simply forgot to think what leaving my passport without a piece of paper to prove that i was ever there might mean in a few hours time.
fortunately, none of this intruded on my bliss until about 3pm.....while i was eating apple pie and ice cream at the 3 Sisters Rooftop Restaurant, chatting with Bharat about the likely outcome of the talks among the government and maoists and goodness knows which players (i don't pay much attention to it) that would end at 4pm today. note to self....
but something has shifted in the last 48 hours. a kind of faith has settled in and, whatever (im)practicalities i might discover back at the Embassy, i was satisfied that i could handle it. another taxi ride, another perilous crossing of the Ring Road, a lovely namaste from the lovely hindu man behind the big, gray gate, a stolen glance at the entire edifice of the incredibly beautiful soldier, then a smile, a little nervous walk around the curving driveway to the embassy building because i was 10 minutes early, and before i could even apologize for being early (because, like, you know, i would be the kind of person to feel the need to do that), i was being waved briskly into the visa officer's office and had my passport--with the visa--and my receipt in my hand by 4:25pm. i almost skipped back out, but settled on a more extravagant namaste for the lovely hindu man in the topi that matches his suit, a wider smile for the soldier and just as big a smile from him, back across the Ring Road into my waiting taxi with the friendly driver and back to Boudha.
phew.
between the morning and afternoon visits to the Bangladesh Embassy, i made my first visit to Child Haven since before i left on trek on october 12. i had a chance to meet with the two senior staff alone (a rare treat since the office is usually as chaotic as the Ring Road) and was able to have a wonderful chat about why the Child Haven experience hadn't worked for me and was able to thank them for their understanding through my fumblings about. it was a fantastic opportunity to clear my heart and the air and to really prepare for the next piece with Bonnie-ma.
i have had a very successful day.
so ya. ebullient. it's a good word.
and it's good to feel that way today.
(it's also the second day of the buddhist full moon celebrations around the stupa and you should all read rod's tales of cambodia...)
posted by allan at
4:09 a.m.
1 Comments:
Hey, thanks for the plug! It sounds like Siem Reap was just a taste of what traffic will be like in Nepal and India. And I think it's cool that we're both in countries that celebrate the full moon.
When you're travelling, the good days really are good, aren't they? I feel right now that travelling is making me a better person, but the real test will be when I come home. I also feel like I'm developing faith - faith in myself, faith that everything will work out if I just relax and let life happen... Anyway, I just love reading your posts, and knowing that you enjoy reading mine. Hooray!
Namaste
Rod
By
Anonymous, at 5:23 a.m.
Post a Comment
<< Home