When I was walking through Kathmandu listening to a self-guided audio tour I got interrupted by a young man (Maneesh) wanting to say hi. He assured me that he wasn’t a guide and didn’t want money, he was a student and wanted to speak English. We chatted for a bit. He asked where I was going. I told him I was going for a walk. He said there was a festival on and then something about his mandala art and he could show me the way (not a guide, no money). So I switched off my audio tour and decided to go for a wander. The streets of Thamel may be a rabbit warren, but google maps is great so I wasn’t afraid of getting lost (or rather, I was quite confident of getting found again). We chatted a bit as we wandered. He was lovely. He is studying mandala art (it’s religious art, I’ve seen it in Buddhist and Hindu contexts, often done with coloured sand, but sometimes paint on canvas). He has several more years of study to go. We weaved our way through the maze of streets and he pointed out some of the buildings that had been destroyed during the earthquake: some have already been rebuilt, others are being worked on, some are still just jumbles of rubble.
We stopped at a small temple where we rang a bell, and he gave me a candle to light and sprinkled some flowers on my head. He also wanted to give me a tikka (the red dot on my forehead) but I declined. These are all forms of blessing. In Buddhism it is about mind, speech, and body. So many of the blessings involve holding your hands to your forehead (mind), lips (speech), chest (body). Similar yet different from the sign of the cross in Christianity.
We made our way to his art school. The old building was destroyed in the earthquake and two people died. The new building is in the same courtyard. We went inside to see some of the artwork. There was another guy there who I think was one of the teachers. He sent Maneesh out to get me a cup of masala tea (but without sugar) for me as a show of hospitality. This new guy showed me some of their artwork. Painted on cotton canvases. One shows samsara (https://www.thangka-mandala.com/blog/the-wheel-of-life/) which shows the three worlds of hell and the three of heaven (we are in one of these). The aim is to break the cycle of rebirth by attaining enlightenment (nirvana). Another is the Kalachakra (https://www.thangka-mandala.com/blog/mandala-kalachakra/) which looks like a pagoda when you make it in 3D (layers of sand building it up). The third that I saw was the Om mandala (https://traditionalartofnepal.com/shop/mandala/om-mandala/ but the blue one rather than the green one) which shows the om mani padme hum mantra (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Om_mani_padme_hum).
The teacher who was showing me all of this then started to say that buying one of these paintings isn’t really like shopping because the money is used to support the school. I tried to say that I didn’t want to spend £150 equivalent on a painting, but I’d happily make a smaller donation. He said that as Buddhists they couldn’t accept donations, something has to be given in return. He then showed me the cheapest they had. I tried to resist: I have no house to put it in and no one to give it to (besides which, I have no interest in visual arts). In the end I paid about £8 for a small piece. I had tried several times to go for the donation option but he looked really offended. So I now have a painting.
I find lots of this interaction to be really positive, and yet there are some aspects of this I find troubling. I loved spending some time with Maneesh while he showed me bits of Kathmandu I wouldn’t have seen otherwise, he was generous with his time and his knowledge, and was genuinely excited about his work. I found the teacher to be a master of his craft (and I don’t mean his art work). He was able to extract a sale from me when I really, really didn’t want to buy anything. And sure, I could have just said no and left, but I’m afraid I’m too polite / guilty / too much of a people pleaser to do that. I find the concept of no donation to be quite strange. I’ve not heard of that in Buddhism before. And this one man is no more typical of Buddhism than any given Christian is representative of Christianity. So I certainly don’t critique Buddhism here. But a practitioner of a religion that eschews attachment and material possessions forcing one upon me in the name of that religion was distasteful to me. I don’t mind parting with £8 as a donation to an art school that is keeping a traditional artisan practice alive (despite my personal disinterest in art), and especially not considering the generosity of spirit I had seen in Maneesh. However, I did feel conned and used. Much less exploitation however, than some of my colonial forebears have exerted upon vast swathes of the planet – my Britishness is not lost on me.
Overall, I’m glad that my audio tour was interrupted. I was glad to spend some time with Maneesh. I’m glad some of my UK pounds have made their way into the pockets of local Nepalis.
Now, to find someone to give the painting to (as a donation, with nothing expected in return). And to put some more pounds into more local pockets – this time in exchange for momos, tea, lemon soda, cake, etc.
Leave a Reply