BOUDHANATH - A TASTE OF TIBET
There are many good reasons for visiting Nepal, some of them over eight thousand metres high. Kathmandu, its unique, nerve-jangling capital, can leave you breathless in more ways than one so many Western visitors base themselves in the tourist-friendly area of Thamel to keep the general chaos at bay. Those in the know take a short taxi ride to somewhere quite different ... Boudhanath.
Tucked away in the northeast of the city, just 4kms from the airport, is a secret mini Tibet. It offers a safe haven for the thousands of Tibetan refugees who have settled there since the 1959 Chinese invasion of their country, and an entrancing alternative for anyone who prefers calm to chaos. Step through the gateway and you enter a world of devotion centred on an immense, dome-shaped, holy stupa, the most ancient kind of Buddhist monument, which sits there like a big white blancmange. Bells chime, clouds of incense fill the air and faded prayer flags flutter in the breeze. Pilgrims pass by, lightly spinning prayer wheels in the wall on their ritual circumnavigation of the stupa, one of the biggest and most revered in the world. Many are elderly Tibetan women in traditional dress, their gentle features rapt with concentration, as they finger prayer beads and softly murmur a mantra. At the top of the stupa, the benign, blue-eyed gaze of Buddha is mesmerising. Where better to recharge your batteries after tiring excursions to city sights or to the Kathmandu Valley beyond? This unique community gives you a taste of Tibet without the expense and difficulty of visiting the country itself, to say nothing of the threatening presence of Chinese soldiers marring the whole experience.
The town has grown up around the stupa. A microcosm of Buddhist life, it welcomes you like an old friend. Good accommodation abounds, like the Hotel Mandala, just a couple of minutes from the stupa itself, comfortable and great value. You can visit the monasteries, home to hundreds of cheery, maroon-robed monks. The sound of their chanting will soon draw you to the temples, festooned with bright, silken banners. If you're lucky, the otherworldly call of conch shell trumpets might alert you to a sacred ceremony unfolding at the foot of the stupa, with musicians playing strange instruments from ancient, yellowing scores. When the moon is full, thousands of butter lamps light up the darkness.
In the shops you'll find everything from antique Tibetan furniture to miniature prayer wheels and singing bowls. Monks sit cross-legged on the floor of workshops, painting thangkas, vibrant depictions of devils and deities. When you need a break, try the student-run, rooftop Saturday Cafe, purveyors of delicious vegetarian dishes, home-made cakes and an intriguing rhododendron squash. Don't be surprised to find yourself chatting to monks about monastery life or long-lost relatives left behind in Tibet. They're all keen to practise their English.
In the shops you'll find everything from antique Tibetan furniture to miniature prayer wheels and singing bowls. Monks sit cross-legged on the floor of workshops, painting thangkas, vibrant depictions of devils and deities. When you need a break, try the student-run, rooftop Saturday Cafe, purveyors of delicious vegetarian dishes, home-made cakes and an intriguing rhododendron squash. Don't be surprised to find yourself chatting to monks about monastery life or long-lost relatives left behind in Tibet. They're all keen to practise their English.
|
By early evening when the stupa takes on a gentle glow, you're sure to find yourself going with the flow, walking round and round, always clockwise as ritual dictates, rubbing shoulders with elderly Tibetan women in their “little house on the prairie” outfits, monks, pilgrims and tourists from near and far. With the soothing, ever-present chant of “Om Mani Padme Hum” (praise to the jewel in the lotus) ringing in your ears, you'll find it hard to resist occasionally glancing up into those eyes.
|