By Allan The difficulty in describing any city in the world is being able to fairly portray both its positive and negative qualities. One of the main differences between Kathmandu and most other cities I have been to is tourism. Tourism is the number one source of income in Kathmandu, and all of Nepal. This pushes many of Nepal’s uneducated people into the tourism sector of the economy. All they need to do is learn minimal English. The most common phrases heard while walking down the street are: “smoke hashish,” “trekking guide,” “porter,” “money change,” “taxi,” “tiger balm,” and “hey you, come look.” The first couple of times a Nepali offers up some hashish are somewhat amusing, but when it happens every 30 seconds it becomes annoying.
Like many of the third world cities I have visited, Kathmandu has a large population of beggar children, who most commonly range from about 4 years to 12 years of age. Traffic jams offer these children the opportunity to stop at every taxi’s window to bed the travelers for money. Children will also get on a bus or train to beg and get off at the next stop. Most commonly they hold their hand out, then rub their belly, and finally put the hand to their mouth.
The first number of times this happened I considered reaching into my pocket to pull out a Nepalese rupee (the equivalent to one fourth of a cent). Invariably, though, I ended up hesitating and finally looking the other way. While looking away eats at my conscious, I think that giving them money creates lifelong beggars who subsist on begging alone. I also question how the money will be spent and prefer buying a them a piece of fruit or some momos.
There is a group of about 10 young children and several mangy dogs who sleep in a pile at a main intersection. They are filthy. When I walked by earlier today, I saw one boy’s head resting on a dogs butt, and his face was almost fully covered in flies--hundreds of flies. There are so many flies covering his face that I can’t figure out how he can even breathe. His nostrils are filled with flies. The boys are underdressed for the cold weather, and the clothes they do have on have so many holes in them and are so filthy that I wouldn’t even use them as rags to clean a floor. One of the boys took notice of me surveying his friends and emerged from the group, using his right hand to beg for money. I notice something in his left hand and I point to it. He immediately gets a guilty look on his face and hides it under his shirt. He is only about 4 years old, but he knows to feel guilty about the toxic model airplane glue that he holds in his hand--the kind that explicitly states it should be used in a well ventilated area due to the toxic fumes. As I look at another boy in the pile it all makes sense. He too is holding a glue tube--to his nose, sniffing it like a bottle of Afrin.
Aside from the beggar children and hashish peddlers, the most common thing in Kathmandu’s tourist district is North Face. The streets are lined with stalls selling every piece of gear one might need before going on a trek to Mt. Everest, the Annapurna Circuit, or the dozens of other Himalayan excursions. You can buy down sleeping bags, Nalgene bottles, snow pants, and Mountain Hardwear jackets, though most of the gear is fake. It is not made by North Face, but by Nepalese factories that just embroider the “North Face” logo on it. Some of it says Gore-Tex, but when you touch it, it feels more like cheap nylon running pants. Some of the fake gear is of reasonable quality and reasonable price, like a North Face down jacket for 20 dollars, but most of it will fall apart within a week.
Another Kathmandu tourist trap is a historical tour of the city by a “university student” that wants to practice his English. Okay, this one got me. A clean cut twenty year old speaking excellent English approached me on the street. He explained that he studies history at the university and would show me around the city if I helped him with his English. Seemed reasonable, so I agreed. As we walked through the alleys of Kathmandu, he pointed out ancient Hindu and Buddhist shrines and explained their significance. He lead me to a courtyard with another ancient temple and explained how this temple is both Buddhist and Hindu. While walking about the temple, I began to ask questions about the date it was built and its significance. He started to stutter, and gave contradicting answers. At this point, I realized that he is not a student, but instead just another Nepali trying to make some money from a tourist. I explained that I’m a history teacher and he seemed to understand that his gig was up. And then, he asked for money, “Please Allan, my family is very poor, and university is very expensive. A small donation will help me continue my studies.”
We both know he is full of shit, and he knows I know he is full of shit, but he can’t stop now. He needs something after spending an hour and a half walking me around. I end up giving him 200 rupee, about 3 dollars. After all, it was a decent tour. He wasn’t satisfied, and persisted in asking for more money, preferably in US dollars. I was equally persistent in telling him no. On the way back to the center of town, he encouraged me to stop at an “art gallery,” in hopes I will buy something so he can get the commission. I declined politely and started walking back to my hotel. Another young Nepalese follows me asking how much I gave to him. I told him that I knew he wasn’t a student, but that the tour was decent so I gave him a few dollars. “Good for you,” he said as he started laughing.
It all gets tiring--being lied to about fake North Face gear, constantly being stopped by beggars who want money for drugs, and being asked to buy whatever it is that person happens to be selling. When it’s made to be personal, it’s especially frustrating. Still, we--the tourist--created this madness. We show up to one of the poorest countries in the world with nice clothes, cameras, loads of luggage, and most of all, money. If I was Nepalese, and in their situation, I’d probably hound the hell out of tourists. It’s the best chance at a decent living. We need to take responsibility for all of this, including the tourist traps, because we have created them. And sometimes, we should just play the game.
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Like many of the third world cities I have visited, Kathmandu has a large population of beggar children, who most commonly range from about 4 years to 12 years of age. Traffic jams offer these children the opportunity to stop at every taxi’s window to bed the travelers for money. Children will also get on a bus or train to beg and get off at the next stop. Most commonly they hold their hand out, then rub their belly, and finally put the hand to their mouth.
The first number of times this happened I considered reaching into my pocket to pull out a Nepalese rupee (the equivalent to one fourth of a cent). Invariably, though, I ended up hesitating and finally looking the other way. While looking away eats at my conscious, I think that giving them money creates lifelong beggars who subsist on begging alone. I also question how the money will be spent and prefer buying a them a piece of fruit or some momos.
There is a group of about 10 young children and several mangy dogs who sleep in a pile at a main intersection. They are filthy. When I walked by earlier today, I saw one boy’s head resting on a dogs butt, and his face was almost fully covered in flies--hundreds of flies. There are so many flies covering his face that I can’t figure out how he can even breathe. His nostrils are filled with flies. The boys are underdressed for the cold weather, and the clothes they do have on have so many holes in them and are so filthy that I wouldn’t even use them as rags to clean a floor. One of the boys took notice of me surveying his friends and emerged from the group, using his right hand to beg for money. I notice something in his left hand and I point to it. He immediately gets a guilty look on his face and hides it under his shirt. He is only about 4 years old, but he knows to feel guilty about the toxic model airplane glue that he holds in his hand--the kind that explicitly states it should be used in a well ventilated area due to the toxic fumes. As I look at another boy in the pile it all makes sense. He too is holding a glue tube--to his nose, sniffing it like a bottle of Afrin.
Aside from the beggar children and hashish peddlers, the most common thing in Kathmandu’s tourist district is North Face. The streets are lined with stalls selling every piece of gear one might need before going on a trek to Mt. Everest, the Annapurna Circuit, or the dozens of other Himalayan excursions. You can buy down sleeping bags, Nalgene bottles, snow pants, and Mountain Hardwear jackets, though most of the gear is fake. It is not made by North Face, but by Nepalese factories that just embroider the “North Face” logo on it. Some of it says Gore-Tex, but when you touch it, it feels more like cheap nylon running pants. Some of the fake gear is of reasonable quality and reasonable price, like a North Face down jacket for 20 dollars, but most of it will fall apart within a week.
Another Kathmandu tourist trap is a historical tour of the city by a “university student” that wants to practice his English. Okay, this one got me. A clean cut twenty year old speaking excellent English approached me on the street. He explained that he studies history at the university and would show me around the city if I helped him with his English. Seemed reasonable, so I agreed. As we walked through the alleys of Kathmandu, he pointed out ancient Hindu and Buddhist shrines and explained their significance. He lead me to a courtyard with another ancient temple and explained how this temple is both Buddhist and Hindu. While walking about the temple, I began to ask questions about the date it was built and its significance. He started to stutter, and gave contradicting answers. At this point, I realized that he is not a student, but instead just another Nepali trying to make some money from a tourist. I explained that I’m a history teacher and he seemed to understand that his gig was up. And then, he asked for money, “Please Allan, my family is very poor, and university is very expensive. A small donation will help me continue my studies.”
We both know he is full of shit, and he knows I know he is full of shit, but he can’t stop now. He needs something after spending an hour and a half walking me around. I end up giving him 200 rupee, about 3 dollars. After all, it was a decent tour. He wasn’t satisfied, and persisted in asking for more money, preferably in US dollars. I was equally persistent in telling him no. On the way back to the center of town, he encouraged me to stop at an “art gallery,” in hopes I will buy something so he can get the commission. I declined politely and started walking back to my hotel. Another young Nepalese follows me asking how much I gave to him. I told him that I knew he wasn’t a student, but that the tour was decent so I gave him a few dollars. “Good for you,” he said as he started laughing.
It all gets tiring--being lied to about fake North Face gear, constantly being stopped by beggars who want money for drugs, and being asked to buy whatever it is that person happens to be selling. When it’s made to be personal, it’s especially frustrating. Still, we--the tourist--created this madness. We show up to one of the poorest countries in the world with nice clothes, cameras, loads of luggage, and most of all, money. If I was Nepalese, and in their situation, I’d probably hound the hell out of tourists. It’s the best chance at a decent living. We need to take responsibility for all of this, including the tourist traps, because we have created them. And sometimes, we should just play the game.
