Durbar square, 1st time in Kathmandu looking up at the carving of some ancient 14th century, 15th century Newari building. The history and life is real, more so than anywhere else I have been. Piles of garbage burning in the street as a family of cows lives next to an ancient temple previously guarded by fierce tribes in the middle of the middle of the city.
A holy man dashes by, throwing marigold petals on my head and blessing me with a red third eye. It has happened thousands of times before to thousands of travelers, but the mood of the day is still set. I have been made a gift. He was gone as fast as he came.
The 100 rupees hence requested could have been spent in worse ways.
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