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The government of Nepal has declared at least a three day ‘holiday’, during which basically nothing will take place. Unless, of course, you count the transition of the government from a 239 year old monarchy to a nominally democratic republic.

Tomorrow (Wednesday) we plan on doing very little in the way of official business. We understand almost everything will be closed and the streets will be quiet, as transportation will be generally prohibited. We’re about two blocks from the royal palace, where the sitting king will be gently coaxed from his throne–he’s expressed no eagerness to depart, and some fear that there will be hubbub.

There are a lot of police in the streets today, many wearing riot gear and carrying rifles or long sticks. 

Here are a few getting ready to have their hair cut from tomorrow’s festivities. 

 

We were in Ratna Park today, just on walkabout, when a bomb exploded. We were just walking across the park, when we heard a pretty loud (though clearly not very BIG) explosion. It was quite clear immediately that it was a bomb–things just don’t sound like that in regular life–and we sort of stood our ground a bit to get a feel for what might be happening.

We saw lots of people running towards a puff of smoke, and lots of people running away. Knowing that for the most part the folks exploding bombs here haven’t been seeking to hurt people, we didn’t have quite the same fear we might have in another place, and we found ourselves sort of tentatively sidling over toward where the bomb had been, which was probably 200 yards from where we’d been standing.

Soon enough, a crowd of people rushing from that direction overtook us, and we decided to kind of join it–either they were running from something or to something, and we figured we probably wanted to be where they were, and not where they weren’t.

It wasn’t a vibe of terror or rage or anything. Pretty shortly it became clear that they were carrying a victim of the blast, right past me. Not being a seasoned conflict photographer, I was busier trying to keep track of Amy and figure out how hard I should be running, and didn’t get any pictures. 

Keeping an eye out for stick wielding police or other angry-eyed people, we followed the crowd across the street, where they deposited the victim in the Bir Hospital’s emergency room. By this time, police in urban camo had caught up with the crowd, and were doing a fine job of milling around and keeping folks from going into the hospital. 

I asked what happened, of a studious looking fellow, and he said, “Bomb exploded. The guy who would explode it, it went off in his jeans pocket. Stupid man!” Seems plausible enough to me. If it’s true, I can’t say I feel too bad for the guy who blew his ass cheek off.

 

After the bomb, we did a spot of tourist ambling. It was a nice, if somewhat overwhelming, taste of Kathmandu’s street life. 

Amy and I saw this sectioned pig this evening, skin brazen orange and hair singed into a mohawk, and simultaneously exclaimed: “God, that’s beautiful!” And once again, for the one thousand thousandth time, I knew we had found each other for a reason.

Just yesterday bird sacrifices were outlawed in Kathmandu. I guess this young man didn’t get the memo.

I just can’t get enough of the handmade tools and rustic kitchens/shops here. 

 

We had another really nice time earlier in the day with the Little Sisters Fund folks. Shot a bunch of classroom portraits and a bit of video, as well as group portraits of the LSF girls attending Takshashila Academy (the school which adjoins the LSF offices). We’ll try to post some of those pictures, as well as some stuff from the cultural show, tomorrow. 

On our forced ‘holiday.’