Nepal

Nepal may be defined by the Himalayas, but it is much more than just mountains. The heartland is defined by the pahad, or middle hills, a wide belt running east–west along the length of the country, characterized by massive slopes and steep-sided valleys, and populated by rustic villages set amid terraced fields. The valley cities of Kathmandu and Pokhara are exceptions in these giant-scale hills, where the biggest stretch of flat land for miles around may well be the school volleyball court. Nepal’s southernmost strip is the Terai, a swathe of hot, flat farmland, with areas of jungle preserved in a trio of national parks. Culturally as well as geographically, the Terai forms part of the Gangetic Plain of northern India. As for the Himalayan chain, it guards the northern frontier, broken into a series of himal (snow-covered mountain ranges) and alpine valleys. Pockets of high, dry terrain lie in the rain shadow in the northwestern part of the country, extensions of the great Tibetan plateau. Cutting north–south across the grain of the land, meanwhile, are the country’s great, roaring rivers, laden with glacial minerals and sediment. The largest actually cut right through the Himalayan chain, with their sources in Tibet.

A good thangka is the product of hundreds – or even thousands – of hours of painstaking work. A cotton canvas is first stretched across a frame and burnished to a smooth surface that will take the finest detail. The design is next drawn or traced in pencil; there is little room for deviation from accepted styles, for a thangka is an expression of religious truths, not an opportunity for artistic licence. Large areas of colour are then blocked in, often by an apprentice, and finally the master painter will take over, breathing life into the figure with lining, stippling, facial features, shading and, finally, the eyes of the main figure. Thangka can be grouped into four main genres. The Wheel of Life, perhaps the most common, places life and all its delusions inside a circle held firmly in the clutches of red-faced Yama, god of death. A second standard image is the Buddha’s life story. Many thangka feature tantric deities, either benign or menacing; such images serve as meditation tools in visualization techniques. Mandala (mystical diagrams) are also used in meditation. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. A full exposition of thangka iconography would fill volumes – ask a dealer or artist to lead you through a few images step by step, or visit somewhere like the Tsering Art School in Boudha to find out more.

To make a Tibetan carpet, typically Tibetan wool – from sheep bred for their unusually long, high-tensile wool – is blended with foreign processed wool. Once it is spun into yarn, much of the spinning is still done by hand, producing a distinctive, slightly irregular look. It is then dyed and rolled into balls. Tibetan-style carpets are produced by the cut-loop method, which bears little relation to the process employed by Middle Eastern and Chinese artisans. Rather than tying thousands of individual knots, the weaver loops the yarn in and out of the vertical warp threads and around a horizontally placed rod; when the row is finished, the weaver draws a knife across the loops, freeing the rod. Once the weaving is finished, the carpets are trimmed to give an even finish, in some cases embossed and then washed (an industrial process which pollutes local streams with chemicals linked with birth defects). Most carpets are made-to-order for the export market, with distribution controlled by a small collection of traders. Prices vary widely: at the bottom end expect to pay around $50 per square metre; top-of-the-range carpets can be three times this, or even more. (Many Nepali producers also produce Afghan, Middle Eastern and Kashmiri-style carpets, though these are rarely as fine as the originals.)

A uniquely Nepali institution found in every hill village, the chautaara is a resting place that serves important social and religious functions. The standard design consists of a rectangular flagstoned platform, built at just the right height for porters easily to set down their doko, or basket, while two trees provide shade.

Chautaara are erected and maintained by individuals as an act of public service, often to earn religious merit or in memory of a deceased parent. Commonly they’ll be found on sites associated with pre-Hindu nature deities, often indicated by stones smeared with red abhir and yellow keshori powder. The trees, too, are considered sacred. Invariably, one will be a pipal, whose Latin name (Ficus religiosa) recalls its role as the bodhi tree under which the Buddha attained enlightenment. Nepalis regard the pipal, with its heart-shaped leaves, as a female symbol and incarnation of Lakshmi, and women will sometimes fast and pray for children in front of one. It’s said that no one can tell a lie under the shade of a pipal, which makes the trees doubly useful for village assemblies. Its “husband”, representing Shiva Mahadev, is the bar or banyan (Ficus bengalensis), another member of the fig genus, which sends down Tarzan-vine-like aerial roots which, if not pruned, will eventually take root and establish satellite trunks. A chautaara is incomplete without the pair; occasionally you’ll see one with a single tree, but sooner or later someone will get around to planting the other.