Kathmandu

The steps of Swayambhunath, the hilltop “Monkey Temple”, rise under thousands of prayer flags. At the Indrayani temple I noticed a keep-it-clean sign sponsored by a cement company, Shivam Cement.

On 19 October we reached Kathmandu Durbar Square, the old royal palace square, and the Kaal Bhairav statue. The granite Bhairav, about 3.7 metres tall, is the fearsome form of Shiva. King Pratap Malla brought him here in the 17th century. Legend says you cannot lie in front of him, so the square also served as a place for taking oaths. It was Dashain, Nepal’s biggest festival, and we were in the middle of it: its eighth day, Maha Ashtami, fell on 18 October and its ninth, Maha Navami, on 20 October (lunar days don’t line up with calendar days). On its eighth and ninth days, goats, buffaloes, ducks and roosters are sacrificed at temples and barracks. In the royal courtyard of the Hanuman Dhoka palace, 54 goats and 54 buffaloes are sacrificed on the night of Maha Ashtami. Buffalo calves have been sacrificed in front of Bhairav for as long as the statue has stood here.

On the last morning I walked for an hour through the streets of Kathmandu, and the city showed a completely different side. The contrasts were even sharper. The first people I saw outside the hotel were young locals who had just finished partying and were stretching out the time so they wouldn’t have to go home.

I picked a direction at random and ended up where people dressed in red were bringing offerings to the gods. On the way back I met the same banana seller who had walked into my camera’s frame the day before. Today he, too, looked for a better spot to pose.

With the sunrise the city woke up. There was new energy in it, and the hope people here are looking for.