Seeing a shaman performing a ritual on a hot summer day in Eastern Nepal is not something most travellers would expect. But there he was in his white shirt and long skirt, chains and bells wrapped around his chest, and a headgear full of feathers. He was circling an obelisk, banging on what looked like a metal plate.
The man was stoic and did not flinch, change his expression or stop chanting when curious onlookers started taking his pictures and getting closer to him. He continued to walk down the viewing platform at Cholung Park in the city of Basantapur, Terhathum district, barefoot and unfazed by the blazing hot sun.
Apart from the platform, the park also features a handful of traditional houses of the Limbu people, as well as a couple of modern versions. After a short tour of one of the houses – which was turned into a museum – we walked into another building and “bumped” into the shaman, Rudra Bahadur.
All smiles and ready for the camera, he talked endlessly and animatedly. He used to be a porter for trekkers going up the mountains, but he got bored of doing that, our interpreters and local travel companions – tour guide Pasang Sherpa, and Pushpa Thapa of the Community Homestay Network (CHN), a startup focusing on making positive social impacts via tourism – tell us. The shaman comes from a traditional family that has long believed in animistic worshipping, something that is still practised among many of Nepali’s 142 castes.
Rudra’s father was a shaman, too, and now he is continuing that tradition because he can “feel the power” within him. “I became a Christian and practiced Christianity for six years (before going back to animism). I can feel the power here,” he said, hitting his chest proudly. “It comes to me naturally.”
Pasang later explains that there are still many people in Nepal who believe in shaman rituals, and who visit them for multiple reasons. “Some believe they have healing powers, others believe they can help get rid of bad luck. Some don’t actually believe they have the power to do any of these things, but they still visit the shamans, ‘just in case’,” he said.
“I’ve heard of a story about a guy who came all the way to Nepal from overseas to meet a shaman. When they met, the man told the shaman that he had been living with chronic pain in his back for years and he hoped for a ‘cure’. The shaman did his ritual and whispered something to the man. When asked, the man said, ‘the shaman told me to see a specialist’,” Pasang said, laughing.
To this day I don’t know whether that story was true, though I would like to think it was.
To the east
Eastern Nepal is often overlooked by international travellers who mostly come to the country for its mountains, and to perhaps experience some sort of spiritual awakening. But while mountain tourism and faith tourism are big in Nepal, the land-locked country has many other attractions to offer visitors. And in the east where we toured for over a week, it was the people that truly charmed us.
Take, for example, our visit to a hillside village in Khambela, Dhankuta district where a group of Aathpahariya folks live. The Aathpahariya is one of the smallest Indigenous groups in Nepal, numbering only in the thousands. As we climbed up to the village, we could see young and old Aathpahariya folks all decked out in their colourful traditional costumes, waiting for us.
“Welcome,” said some of them, while a few of the ladies started giggling and covering their faces, before scrambling around to start serving us water and fresh popcorn. (Corn grows well in Nepal, and popcorn is a beloved snack there.)
They had laid out on a table a few shawls, jewellery and other accessories, similar to what they were wearing. There were other trinkets, too, one of which was a “binayo baja”, a mouth harp made from bamboo. They wanted us to try it, but none of us could successfully get a single tune out of it.
One of the older folks, a man in his 70s (pictured on the cover with his wife), was fascinated by the drone that one of our local travel companions, Prasanna Kunwar, had brought. “It’s like a bird!” the older man said, amused.
A younger man walked up to me and said in English, “They said you are from Malaysia. I like Malaysia because it’s very modern, but also ... a lot of nature. You have a mountain too.”
He added that he was inspired by the Malaysian tourism industry, particularly how successful our homestays have become. He has never been to Malaysia – or out of Nepal – but he has big dreams of turning his village into a popular tourist destination, and for visitors to learn about his people and culture.
“One day, maybe we will have more visitors,” he said.
Over the past couple of years, stakeholders like the Dhankuta Municipality, Smart Paani, Chathar Jorpati Rural Municipality, Human Rights Social Awareness and Development Centre, International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) CHN and local communities have been working together to turn Dhankuta into a viable destination for tourism. Their focus is on water resource management: The stronger the water flows, the better the livelihood.
High up in the hills, uninterrupted clean water supply can be a problem, especially in the warmer months. When water supply is low, agriculture – which is a major industry in Nepal overall – is badly affected, causing other businesses and trades to be hit too. The stakeholders believe that with an effective integrated watershed management system, the communities are able to one day replace agriculture with tourism as its main income-generating industry.
For context, tourism in Nepal has always been one of its top industries. In 2019, the country earned NPR75.37bil (RM25.08bil) in tourism receipts; in 2022 – up to the first seven months of the year – the country made NPR32.23bil, or RM10.72bil (source: Nepal Rastra Bank).
With the introduction of community tourism, it is hoped that Indigenous communities not just in Eastern Nepal but all over the country, may be able to earn a better income.
At the Sipting Community Homestay, we had a grand welcome dinner by another Aathpahariya community. It was late in the evening and the festivities included the “dhol nach”, a traditional dance featuring the dhol, a two-sided hand drum. It was here that we were introduced to the “tongba”, a delicious fermented millet drink not unlike the rice wines of Borneo.
We were also served a plate of very local side dishes, one of which was the “wachipa”, made from rice and minced chicken, and sprinkled with a powder made from burnt chicken feathers.
During dinner, one of the men came into the guest hall and entertained us with a song-and-dance piece using the binayo baja. Was he mocking us for our inability to play such a simple instrument? Perhaps. But they fed us a delicious meal and lots of tongba so we just clapped our hands and enjoyed the show.
Multi-coloured joy
The district of Dhankuta is famous for a few things, but perhaps the most striking of all is the “Orange City”, a small enclave up in the hills with heritage buildings painted in what looks like vermilion orange.
That’s an actual Pantone shade, in case you’re wondering.
The reason why the buildings were painted orange is because Dhankuta was once known for growing the citrus fruit. However, over the years, the orange was replaced with avocado instead as it proved to be more suitable for the soil in the area.
The buildings were only painted orange a few years back, when community tourism was first introduced. This proved to be a smart move as the Orange City has become pretty popular on social media, as there are now more local and Indian tourists heading east for the holidays.
“This is what we’re hoping for. We believe we have so much to offer when it comes to tourism. Our culture, our food are unique to us. We also have lots of beautiful nature attractions around us. Everybody in the community keeps the Orange City clean, too, because we believe that is very important,” said one of the locals.
It’s a nice walk around the town, though it did leave me a little short of breath – the place is over 1,000m above sea level after all.
At the bazaar we were greeted by a handful of lovely-looking Newar ladies, dressed in their traditional black-and-red sarees, playing dhols and wind instruments. We had our first taste of “rakshi” here, a strong distilled liquor that every community we met during our trip seemed to love.
The Newar are one of the top 10 biggest castes in Nepal, and are usually found in the Kathmandu Valley. They are one of the oldest castes in the country, too, with a history that can be traced back to the 7th-8th BCE.
One of the oldest Newar towns in Nepal, meanwhile, is Kirtipur in the Kathmandu Valley. It is considered the home of the Newar community, so it was just as well that this was where we learnt how to write the ancient Newari script, the Ranjana Lipi. According to experts, there aren’t many who know the script well today, so by incorporating it into tour itineraries they hope that this dying heritage can be preserved.
While clumsily trying to write the “letters” with our bamboo pens, we were given a taste of “aila”, a type of distilled alcohol. Specifically, this is a Newar drink made from grains like millet and rice.
At Panauti, a town just outside of the Kathmandu Valley, we had a few shots of aila and rakshi during a festive welcome dinner called the Suku Bhwe. There was a lot of dancing and some singing. If you happen to see videos of this on social media, just know that almost everyone on the dance floor was under the influence, and we had no control over our limbs.
The women-led Panauti Community Homestay is one of CHN’s success stories when it comes to homestays. My host was Anjana Shrestha, a lady in her 30s with the cutest son. Together with her parents, they run the homestay business; her husband has a sundry shop just down the hill.
“I think Malaysia is where the homestay programme first started, right?” Anjana asked, while trying to teach me how to wrap a momo the Nepali way. I wasn’t sure, I told her.
“Oh, OK. Some of us in the community homestay like the Malaysian homestays and try to learn from them,” she said, laughing at my funny-looking momo.
Her lovely home overlooks the beautiful town of Panauti, complete with rice fields, farms and a mixture of modern and traditional buildings. Far in the distance you can even see mountain ranges.
Anjana is not really chatty, and her parents less so. But when she does speak she seems careful with her words. “I want to improve my English, but I know I cannot do it if I don’t practise speaking it,” she says slowly, but perfectly.
She and her family did their best to make me feel welcome, which I assume is what they have also done with previous guests. There’s a guestbook in my room with many, many words of praise for Anjana and her family, written by guests from all over the world. I was disappointed that I wasn’t their first Malaysian guest.
Anjana took me around the old town to check out heritage buildings, temples and stupas. The most famous temple would be the Indreswor Mahadev temple, which was founded in 1294, and then rebuilt sometime in the 15th century.
There was a procession happening in town that day – the Buddha Jayanti or, as we know it, Wesak Day. Although Hindu is the dominant religion in Nepal, Buddhism is also practised, alongside other religions, of course.
Food and religion
“Are you sick of eating dal bhat now?” Pushpa asked on the fifth day of our trip. “Never!” I told her. Considered Nepal’s national dish, the dal bhat is a simple meal of rice and dhal or lentils, often served as a thali with side dishes like vegetables and meat or fish. Seafood is hard to come by in Nepal – and expensive – but freshwater fish is available, especially in places nearer to the rivers.
Malaysians would probably have no problem eating dal bhat every day while in Nepal, as it is a familiar and comforting meal to have. They also have “chow mein”, which is nothing like our mee goreng, but more like the American-Chinese version of fried noodles. I recommend sticking to the dal bhat.
At Janakpur, we had the privilege of eating at the Mithila Thali restaurant by chef Santosh Shah, one of Nepal’s most famous celebrities. How famous? Well, his picture appears in a school textbook, where students are asked who he is.
Santosh was the first Nepali to appear twice – and won once – in the BBC edition of the MasterChef series. He was a runner-up in MasterChef: The Professionals in 2020, and won a year later in MasterChef: The Professionals, Rematch.
At his restaurant, Santosh served us a Mithila-style thali with countless side dishes of curries, chutneys, stir fries, fried fish, pickles and more. “We serve 17 dishes and you can choose whichever ones you want. Our goal here is to sell food that is affordable to everyone, not just to certain groups. It’s cheap food, but good and fresh food,” he shared.
After dinner, we hopped onto a few tuk-tuks and precariously (which tuk-tuk ride around the world is not precarious?) made our way through pretty busy traffic to the Janaki Mandir, a temple dedicated to the Hindu goddess, Sita. It’s a beautiful temple – and especially so at night when it is all lit up – famous among locals and Hindus around the globe, most notably for its Hindu-Koiri Nepali architecture.
To wind down after a super long drive, we tried our hand at painting, Mithila style. Mithila art is unique for its use of multiple bright colours and patterns. To the untrained eye (like mine), they seem like caricatures but upon closer inspection each item drawn on the canvas includes plenty of small, intricate designs either within or surrounding it.
The artist who showed us how to create our own Mithila art liked my work. That made my day.
Nearly 200km away from Janakpur is the Barahakshetra, one of the most famous pilgrimage sites for Hindus and Kirats that’s dedicated to Lord Baraha, an incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Devotees believe that this is the sacred site where Lord Baraha fought – and defeated – a demon who wanted to take the Earth with him to the underworld.
The complex is located at the confluence of the Koka and Koshi rivers, and has nine temples, each dedicated to different deities. On special occasions, thousands of worshippers visit the Barahakshetra to pray and perform their rituals.
The place has potential to be a top tourist attraction, and the authorities are probably aware of this judging by the upgrading and beautification works currently happening there.
Before entering the complex, you will walk past a row of shops selling food and beverages, prayer items, jewellery and other souvenirs. If you’re one who can’t resist a good bargain and shiny souvenirs, then do stop at a stall and get something to show your support to the local community.
I still have my souvenir binayo baja with me, and I hope to be able to properly play it one day. And when that happens, I may just make my way back to that tiny Aathpahariya village in Dhankuta.