Walkin' Maya: March 2013

Dogs are everywhere in Nepal, wandering city streets and village lanes, sleeping on doorsteps or in the middle of sidewalks, and barking from porches and crop terraces, none of which is all that unusual for many parts of the world, but what struck me most was their presence at both Hindu and Buddhist shrines, temples and monasteries.

At Bodhnath, Asia's largest Buddhist stupa, a type of shrine.

So, obviously, I would have spent the last two weeks there taking a few shots for this dog blog. Okay, it’s not walking Maya but it was walking around Kathmandu and on a three-day hike north of the city on part of what’s called the Helambu trek.

Focusing on dogs is not meant to diminish the human dimension of Nepal. It is one of the poorest countries in the world, and while it is famous for mountain climbing and spiritual pilgrimage, it is in many ways an isolated nation beset with large ethnic, cultural and linguistic differences, religiously inculcated class distinctions, and political instability. It sits buffer-like between two Asian and global powers, India and China, and depending on whether you are with Brahmins and Chhetris castes or Sherpas and Tibetans it can seem more like one than the other. Until only a few years ago it was ruled as a monarchy and has now slid into a form of lingering disfunctualism as a Maoist transition government holds onto power by endlessly delaying the task of writing a new constitution. It's important for me to say, though, that the people of Nepal are among the loveliest people in both manner and aspect that I have encountered anywhere in my travels. Circumstances in the country are very difficult but the people are its treasure, as trite as that may sound.

At a village in Helambu area north of Kathmandu.

In Nepal I took almost two hundred photos of dogs, and while that includes many duplicates, I could easily have doubled that amount with fewer shots of the same ones. After a while I couldn’t see the point of endless shots of sleeping dogs—besides a couple of times they awoke to catch me me stealing their images, weren’t pleased and sent me scampering out of the way of gnashing and snapping teeth. I also skipped shots of a lot of very mangy dogs because that was just depressing. Organizations can be found on the Web that work to help and rescue street dogs in Nepal.

I’d hoped on the trek to see a few of those Himalayan mastiffs—or they might be called Tibetan mastiffs, not sure—but most of what was there appeared primarily to be mutts. The Nepali people seems pretty tolerant of them, and one friend told me it was because in the reincarnation beliefs of Hindus and Buddhists dogs are thought to be close to humans on their graduated living-spiritual journeys, not necessarily sacred like cows are to Hindus but to be shown respect or at least left alone. Again, I'm not an expert here, so I'm not making claims to getting this exactly right.

Two live dogs at Kathmandu's hilltop Swayambhunath, a Buddhist stupa also called the monkey temple, join their stone guardian counterpart, which I believe is the lion-dog figure, common at Buddhist sites.

Apparently, dogs are also considered guardians of the gates to Heaven and Hell and there are various references to dogs among the Hindu pantheon. Only once did I see someone be aggressive toward one of these temple guardians, and that wasn't all that severe, just a matter-of-fact little toe kick to get it out from under foot. In November, there is even a special day for dogs. This is from Wikipedia about the five-day Tihar festival: The second day is called Kukur Tihar or Kukur Puja (worship of the dogs).Dog, which is believed to be messenger of Lord Yamaraj, the God of death, is worshiped once a year on this day, and people offer garlands, tika and delicious food to the dogs, and acknowledge the cherished relationship between humans and the dogs.

As for the Buddhists, I read elsewhere that killing animals, particularly dogs, is a sin in Tibetan Buddhism, the main form practiced in Nepal, and that is another reason why there are so many stay dogs in cities and villages and around the shrines, temples and monasteries.

I took pictures, but didn't make any effort to engage the dogs. Rabies is not uncommon there, and although I've had my shots for it, I've no interest in going through the booster treatment. And besides rabies, a bite could nonetheless lead to a serious infection. A friend here in the states—a veterinarian—got a vicious infection from a dog bite working in a vet hospital and ended up hospitalized twice and losing flexibility in half of her hand, and this is professional who got quick treatment and knew what was going on!

I had hoped to post to this blog from Nepal but time constraints made it pretty difficult to find space enough to devote to it, and besides the Internet connection at the hotel was very spotty. Next time I’ll get my iPhone unlocked, replace the SIM card and tether it to my laptop as a wi-fi device. Duh! A friend who arrived the last week in Nepal did that and had great service at a very reasonable price. On the other hand, not being tethered to the Net wasn’t so bad either. So, I started this blog on the plane flying back. With a four-hour flight from Kathmandu to Dubai, a four-hour layover and then a 12-hour flight from Dubai to JFK, I got a jump on the jet lag that always follows trips to Asia. I haven't been to Asia in three years, but I usually spend the first week afterward walking around like a zombie—sleepy and spacey in the day and restless at night. So if the reader encounters more than my usual share of typos, perdoname.

And back to the namesake of this blog, Maya, several people in Nepal commented (when conversation led to personal/family story) about her name being a common Nepali (and Indian) name, so maybe there's a Maya among these pictures anyway.

Namaste.*

* Napali greeting that translates roughly, "I greet the divine in you," or maybe, "The divine spirit in me greets the divine spirit in you." It's a recognition that we all share in the spirit of God.