…to Pokhara – live it up, catch a refreshing drunk, swim in a big lake, hang out with some new friends; vacation.

To the countryside near Pokhara – live with a farmer for at least a few weeks, see what his life is like, take pictures, escape technology/pollution, figure out what I am going to do for the month of May (India, middle-of-nowhere Nepal, chase photo gigs, ?); Peace & Pictures.

Possibly to Chitawan Countryside – repeat above directions.

I am leaving my computer in Kathmandu for the month of April, so this blog will be out-of-commission (at least picture wise).  I recommend watching for Nepal in the news around April 10th (it’s the big elections, and no one knows what will happen. I read a headline today that said something like: Maoists refuse to accept poll results if they lose.  So it could get interesting…)

peace.

p.s. get china out of Tibet.

 Or called the Festival of Color, it’s a holiday celebrated all over Nepal and India. Everyone stands on their roof and throws dyed water on any one down in the street or from roof to roof. Fortunately, my house has one of the higher roofs around, making me the champion of Holi (hence the crappy pictures, I was much more concerned in getting revenge on all the kids that hit me with balloons on the days previous to Holi). Being extremely white doesn’t help though, everyone loves to get ba-deesh-ees (foreigners) and I certainly was the target of many balloons. It’s truly a war zone out there kids. I stocked up on plastic bags for a few days so I wouldn’t have to enter the red zone and resupply (ground level = vulnerable.). Girls are the primary target during this festy, and they are outnumbered by far. There were roofs upon roofs of dudes surrounding one roof full of girls. Not meaning to be a chauvinist pig, but girls aren’t very good at dodging water balloons. I seriously think we should instate this festival in the US, or around the world for that matter. It is fuuuun; sometimes in life you just gotta aim for people’s heads with plastic bags full of water and hope for the best, especially when they’re not looking (and then hide). It’s pretty rewarding, in a deranged/zen sort of way.

Through working on this catalog I was introduced to Lok Chitrakar, one of the most established artists in Nepal for painting Paubhas. He’s a super chill dude, and his studio exudes peace (if peace is even possibly exuded). The kind of studio that has soft light coming through big windows with white drapes, a courtyard out front perfect for spacing out or smoking a thoughtful ciggy butt, and the silence you pretty much never find in Kathmandu.

Lok is really interesting to me, not only because of his quiet, humble personality, but how he is similar, and most of the time very different from the crazy artists I’m friends with. He’s a practical dude, unlike most artists I know, but he also places ideals in his paintings (like all nutty artists). Other than an understanding of form, color, composition, etc…, this is where a contemporary artist and him diverge quickly. He paints traditional paintings religious/philosophic/spiritual in nature. In his culture you can barely change them. Backgrounds and some details are up to the artist, but most of the painting such as the position the figure is in, who is in the painting, what they are doing; these are all rules written thousands of years ago. Very tradish, to use the parlance of our times.

Lok does well because of the west, and for that I can’t complain. He’s happy painting Paubhas because they are endemic to his culture. His last name, Chitrakar, literally means painter; he is simply part of that caste, his ancestors painted these same paintings. I guess that is what is so hard for me to understand, this is his Dharma (duty, law, way of life) and it will be his sons and his son’s son duty.

With all that said, buy his paintings they are wonderful!

An interesting week, I found out that paying a program to place me in an internship is totally worthless and a waste of money. The Rising Nepal was a waste of time because they are jaded maoists, so I found myself my own internship at the Himalayan Times to cover the elections. I subsequently found out that I am unable to cover anything in Nepal without press accreditation from the government. Which I could’ve found if I had some time in the states, but my placement program didn’t think researching my position in their country was important. I’ve been in contact with them since last July! Obviously, its not all their fault, but haysus christo!  To top it off, the program coordinator in Nepal, told me to work hard the other day.  Fucker.

Anywho, now I am volunteering at the National Heritage Society promoting a traditional painting exhibition. I am designing a catalog, designing posters, doing press releases, etc…Its OK, not really what I want to do, but its something.

This style of painting is what I am helping to promote for the National Heritage Society.  All are invited, March 28 at the Kathmandu Guest House, 4:30pm.  Be there or be square.

This work is copyrighted by the artist, so dont steal it.  My watermark is only there for that reason (and i dont know the artist’s name)*

Ok…Everything should be back to normal…if anyone sees any ads or anything weird PLEASE let me know.  Big update today, enjoy….

I’ve been working on a photo story on the street children of Katmandu, but, now, I quit. Because: a. I haven’t seen the kids I want to shoot for a while. B. I don’t know Nepali, making it impossible for any type of cooperation/coordination and I can’t afford/waste the time of a translator indefinitely. C. Every photographer who comes to Kathmandu, or any third world country for that matter, does a story on the homeless children (they exist in the “developed” world too, why don’t they get coverage as well? not exotic enough?). Therefore, I shall share with you what I have:

These kids are seen everywhere, especially around tourist areas. If you are of western descent you will surely be approached by a dirty kid with a sad face, holding out his hand begging for money in the most pathetic voice he can muster.

After only a few hours of spending time around them, I realized they are kids, first and foremost. Only secondly are they in a terrible situation. They are always laughing and playing outside the eyes of their clientele (the tourists).

The nasty, sometimes unrecognized aspect of these kids is that they huff glue, all day, all the time. The few of them that I had the chance to interview say they huff to stay warm. One kid, Thulo-bi, 10 years old (top portrait and above picture to the left) said he huffs because of “tension”. I don’t doubt this answer is subconsciously common to many, if not all, of the kids.

All the kids interviewed said that the glue they buy is bought with money solicited from tourists. The glue is bought from a number of local stores and it seems that anyone will sell to them. Once bought, the whole group shares with each other. At Basantipur, a popular tourist area, I saw a few Nepalese people stop by and give food and water. The kids also talked about a hostel where they have a place to sleep and eat. So, it sounds like help is available, but knowing Nepal and its dire financial and political situation, I am sure it is quite limited.

I apologize for my terrible, if not sketchy, journalistic dedication. Bad journalism aside, I’ve learned that yes, help is definitely needed, but information on where to help is equally important. Helping by giving money directly to the kids produces results quite opposite the original intention. Giving money to an organization centered on this problem is probably a much more positive direction. However, I’ve recently read a newspaper article (Feb. 15 – 21 edition, Nepali Times) about rampant misuse of funds in these organizations/orphanages. So, maybe, as it usually is, mending the source, or origin, is the answer. Poor communities, unemployment, expensive or bad education, political strife, and a fierce, competitive global market are conceptually the real problems, but, as I tend to do, I am digressing into things far above my head. So, to keep things simple: peace, love, and please save the children. I quit.

Shadib, my Nepali tutor, says “they wear the jeans, they wear the mini skirts and give their parents big headache, isn’t it?” (He probably didn’t say “isn’t it” in this case, but he certainly always does. It is this or that, eesn’t it.). “One day a young guy has one lady, and another day, another lady. Big problem!” He says this after I finish telling him Americans are and were generally OK about Prezzy Slick Willy’s BJ. He sees his culture eroding, even though he’s not sure what erode means. Further, he doesn’t understand our concept of divorce. “The man has one small problem, the wife has one small problem, so they divorce. It should not be that way!” He understands, as Nepali’s traditionally have, one wife FOR-EVVV-ERRRR.

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In celebrations of Lord Shiva’s birthday Hindu’s get super crazy. Everyone congregates in a place called Pashupati, and smokes SOOOO much ganja. Holy men are just passing the silly stuff out, it’s a lot of fun. Then, sufficiently stoned, mobs of men chase around the crazy holy men, that are pretty much naked and smoking ganja.

These were taken during a Tibetan Buddhist old age ceremony. The chanting is unbelievable!

Also, I hooked up with my new homie Tashi, a lama/teacher at Kapan monastry, and he gave the OK for me to follow him around for a few days and document a small piece of his life. dope.

well all my posts have been deleted. Beautifully, Google saves all old web pages, so the re-do process won’t be too bad. a few days and things should be back to normal…..grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr *shaking fist at all technology for the useless attachments it creates between it and humans*