Category: general

Stupas

As is typical of a Buddhist area, Upper Mustang is full of stupas—monuments that contain Buddhist relics and religious items, or just the remains of individuals (whether of note or not).

Some are very simple, while others are more ornate.

More detail from the one on the right:

Generally, there is no information to tell passers-by who is buried in the stupas or what is stored there.

A set of funerary stupas: the red color symbolizes blood, the white symbolizes bone, and the dirt symbolizes ash.

We came across another group of stupas outside the village of Dhakmar. The stupas are located at the foot of hills that are, according to legend, stained red with the blood of demons that Guru Rinpoche had to slay in order to build a monastery.

A different type of stupa: these stupas likely store valuables and religious items rather than human remains. They were restored with U.S. funding from the Ambassador’s Fund for Cultural Preservation. Nepal is one of the largest recipients of AFCP funding in the world.

Finally—we came across an unassuming stupa, except for the design which included an opening. I decided to poke my head inside, and was very glad I did. We were able to see the type of painting that usually is only found inside monastery sanctuaries, where photography is not permitted.

Next: monasteries

Upper Mustang

We visited the Upper Mustang region of Nepal recently. Upper Mustang was the independent Lo Kingdom until the Kingdom of Nepal annexed it in the late 1700s, and the king of Lo continued to rule over the territory until 2008, when Nepal became a republic. Upper Mustang borders Tibet and it is isolated from the rest of the country—the government requires tourists to buy an expensive permit to enter the region, to keep it from becoming overdeveloped.

As a neighbor of Tibet, society is heavily influenced by that country. Moreover, Mustang looks like what you would imagine a Himalayan kingdom to look like.

Let’s start with the scenery, because there is a lot of amazing scenery. We were greeted at the airport by a view of Nilgiri mountain, which remained visible for most of our trek. Apart from the agricultural fields, which are irrigated by the river, the land is very dry.

Next: stupas.

More Janakpur

Janakpur is probably the dustiest city I’ve ever visited.

After roaming around and filling my lungs with particulate matter, I ended up at the railway station. I became intrigued watching people get on and off the trains.

Mithila art in the ticket hall.

Janakpur and Janaki Mandir

Back in December, I visited Janakpur, in the south of Nepal. Janakpur is famous for the Janaki Mandir, a temple dedicated to the Goddess Sita, who was consort of Lord Rama. The temple was built in 1910 on the site where, in 1657, a golden statue of the goddess was found. Sita is also known as Janaki, the adopted daughter of King Janak, who—according to legend—found her while he was ploughing in a ritual ceremony. The temple is an important destination for Hindu pilgrims.

By the day, it looks like this:

At night, however, it looks like this:

The temple is full of devotees day and night. Musicians have been playing continuously, 24 hours a day, for the past 20 years.

The pujas are amazingly crowded, with people straining to photograph the idols of the gods inside the sanctuary (despite the “Don’t take picture” signs). I, at least, used a long lens from outside the temple.

If you tour the museum on the temple grounds, you can see dioramas of the life of Sita. Here is a selection: the figure with the blue skin is Lord Rama.

One more set of photos:

Queens and Critters

From Tashkent, we flew to London for medical consultations. We arrived just in time for run-up to the Queen’s funeral.

People lining up in the hopes of seeing a royal coming in for the funeral (no such luck); the queue to see the Queen lying in state; some dog walkers in a park across from Parliament.

We didn’t get into the funeral, but among other things we did in London, we met up with a friend to attend the Chiswick Dog Show. I was in heaven.

Various contestants; the Harry Potter contest; and the fastest “come to the owner” contest in which one of the dog’s owners stands at the far end of the chute and the dog and handler wait at the other end until the signal.

The Yangiobod Flea Market

It’s a great place for people-watching.

The Yangiobod Flea Market is … kinda nuts.

You want mechanical bits? They have mechanical bits. Electronic bits too.

You want cookware? They have cookware. They even have big cookware.

How about other round things? There’s lots of round things.

Clothes? Strangely foldable Soviet memorabilia? A whole bunch of stuff? It’s all here. Along with (mostly) full warehouse spaces.

One thing you’ll see, particularly on the weekends, is people setting up their own stalls.

I’d like to think they’re just cleaning out the house or reselling something they bought at another flea market, but, in few cases, I got the feeling they were selling whatever they could to keep the lights on.

Because we need a food post

Bread in Uzbekistan is a big deal.

Every day, all day, bakeries are pumping out huge round loaves of bread. But this ain’t no Wonder Bread operation. All the loaves are made by hand, stamped with a pretty design in the center, and sprinkled with seeds.

Then it’s one guy’s job to stick his head into a hot brick oven to slap the flat loaves onto the walls. Over and over.

Fortunately, no one has to use his hands to get the hot loaves out.

Heck, with the paddle, it looks easy, and not like you’re baking your face and hands into shoe leather.

Next: more market food.

To Hell and Bukhara

After three days in Samarkand, we were ready to take the train to our next stop on the Silk Road, Bukhara. As we were rushing to board, however, Abby slipped off the (single, very high) step leading into the compartment. Instead of falling to the platform, she fell backward directly onto the tracks and fractured her skull. She was insensible for perhaps the most frightening 10 minutes of my life, and about 20 minutes after that we were in an ambulance headed straight to Samarkand’s finest hospital.

We stayed there a few nights while Abby recovered. While there were no amenities apart from a private room with its own washroom, the medical personnel were very attentive, and they took good care of Abby (apart from the ENT doctor who missed seeing the wad of cotton jammed up in her ear canal for two days). They also wouldn’t take a penny from us for her treatment. When Abby felt ready, we discharged ourselves and went to rest in Tashkent before proceeding to London on medevac for follow-up consultations.

So, what’s to see in Tashkent? Markets, of course!

First we have Chorsu Bazaar. Basically, if you eat it, they sell it.

If you don’t need onions or more onions, they have potatoes, spices, produce, and someone who’ll give you the stink eye for photographing the produce.

The real action is in the central building, which was built in 1980.

You want meat, you got it. You want bones, you got them. You want enormous sausages? You got them, too. Just be sure you know what critter you’re getting all of them from.
Also, delicatessen meats and cheeses, multiple varieties of farmer’s cheese, and photogenic pickles.

Next: more Chorsu Bazaar.

There ain’t no cure for the Samarkand blues

Yes, this next post was supposed to be about markets, but I haven’t exhausted my supply of Samarkand-based puns yet.

These are photos from the Shah-i-Zinda necropolis. According to Wikipedia,

The name Shah-i-Zinda (meaning “The living king”) is connected with the legend that Qutham ibn Abbas, a cousin of the Prophet Muhammad, is buried here. He came to Samarkand with the Arab invasion in the 7th century to preach Islam. Popular legends speak that he was beheaded for his faith but he didn’t die, took his head and went into the deep well (Garden of Paradise), where he’s still living.

Tombs and mausoleums.
There is a lot of blue tile.

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