The Land of Gods
My journey in Nepal began with a virgin goddess from ancient mythology. Once upon a time, a king was visited nightly by this goddess for a game of dice, and he was taken by her charm and beauty. One evening he made a sexual advance, much to the horror of the goddess, who vanished instantly. That night she appeared to him in a dream and told him that his kingdom would come to an end because he had lost her blessing. To this day, the Kumari, meaning virgin in Nepalese, is worshipped as the living virgin goddess.
Every 10 years, a girl between the ages of 3 and 6 from the local Shakya or Bajracharya clan is chosen as the incarnation of the goddess. The selection process sounds like it comes straight out of a horror movie. A candidate is put in a dark room in a temple surrounded by the bloody heads of buffaloes and men wearing grotesque masks dance around her. If she remains calm and shows no fear during the test, then she is recognized as a real Kumari.
As a living goddess, she is not allowed to play outside or go to school, and her feet cannot touch the ground. She is worshipped as a goddess until she menstruates or loses a large amount of blood.
A glimpse of divinity
The morning we arrived at Kathmandu's Durbar Square, we just missed the living deity's daily public appearance in the window of her home, the Kumari Bahal temple. As our tour guide Ms Chan sweet-talked the staff and explained that we had come all the way from China, I gazed up at the magnificent intricate carvings of the temple, where she lives in isolation from her family. It must be rough to be a living virgin goddess who comes down to earth.
After giving in to Ms Chan's charms, the staff agreed to ask the girl to stand near the window so we could see her. My heart raced as she appeared wearing heavy makeup with shades of red, yellow and black around her eyes. There was no trace of emotion on her face. No eye contact, nothing. I was kind of disappointed.
Later Ms Chan told me that the last time the living goddess showed her emotions, she cried nonstop for days, and then the king died. Thank god she didn't even smile at me.
Anyway, welcome to Nepal, the land of gods!
A spiritual city
The capital Kathmandu is an exuberant city. The entire population seems to be out on the streets, walking, running, buying, selling, praying and living. Some tourists glimpse the chaotic traffic, air pollution, power cuts and noisy, heavily congested streets and want to hop on the next flight home. Some stay and fall hopelessly in love with its architecture and culture.
A very old Hindu text describes Kathmandu as the land of gods. Ms Chan said the first thing she does in the morning and the last thing she does before bed is pray. "We have a population of 30 million people, but we have more than 30 million gods," she said.
I did some homework. Brahma is the creator, Vishnu is the preserver and Shiva is the destroyer and reproducer. And they all have four arms. Each one has an associated animal as its "vehicle."
Tourists yearning to have a real sense of Nepal should visit the country's three Dubar Squares. All are UNESCO World Heritage Sites and famous for their wood carvings.
I felt so enthralled by the statues of deities that I wanted to touch them to show my respect. But when I was about to put my hand on a monkey god, I saw Ms Chan's face immediately turned white. "Stop!" she yelled. "The monkey god is very shy. He's never touched a woman before. If you touch him, he might lose his power," she explained. I felt like I'd almost taken his virginity.
I spent an hour or two just sitting in front of the 500-year-old temples of the square, relaxing and watching the people. Beautiful children with blue-and-white school uniforms were everywhere. Tibetan monks prayed together, chatting and smiling. Most of them smiled as they passed, even the beggars, aged from 2 to 80.
After being surrounded by the local life, I went to a temple called Pashupathi Nath, where cremations are carried out. First, a ceremony is held for the family to say goodbye. Then the body is wrapped in white cloth and put on a wood box covered with hay. Family and friends go up and lay flowers on the body before the hay is set on fire and the body burns. Finally, the temple staff sweeps the ashes into the river, which locals believe purifies people of their sins. While the idea of being born anew in a sacred river is tempting, the foul water was not very enticing to me, so I took a pass.
The whole affair lasted about two hours. Tourists can stand on the other side of river and watch, sort of like a theater without popcorn, or as Ms Chan put it, "It is like a BBQ that you can see and smell but you don't eat." Her comment successfully ruined my appetite.
Sprouting bravery
For as long as I can remember, I've had botanophobia, a fear of plants. My colleague laughed at me when he heard this. "A what phobia?"
During my entire adult life, I have never had plants in my home and I keep my distance from trees as much as possible. Now, you would imagine that someone like me would never want to visit the jungle of Chitwan National Park, which consists of tropical and subtropical forests, but for some reason it made sense to me. For the first time in my life, I was drawn to the idea.
I believe I found courage in the words I saw carved on the wall of a temple: "Victory over millions on the battlefield doesn't make you victorious. One who wins over the self is the most victorious."
It is a seven-hour drive from Kathmandu to Chitwan, or about a 45-minute flight. The park, located in south-central Nepal, is one of the country's treasures. It covers 932 square kilometers and is home to over 50 mammal species, 500 kinds of birds and 50 types of amphibians and reptiles.
The elephant safari is favored by many Chinese tourists. It is not very comfortable riding an elephant, but it allows you to get a close look at a number of animals including rhinos, deer, peacocks and monkeys.
The jungle walk is a less popular choice as it is less comfortable for tour guides and an easier way to get killed. I managed to convince my colleague to go with me and two other tourists from Egypt.
In the very early morning, the four of us headed into the jungle with two tour guides. Before we entered, the tour guide asked a strange question: "Do any of you know how to climb a tree?"
One Egyptian woman and I looked at each other, confused and worried. Then our tour guide continued, "All right, when a bear or tiger charges, you don't run alone. We all run in the same direction. If a rhino charges and you don't know how to climb a tree, you circle around the tree."
The minute he finished his words, I wanted to hop on the next flight home, but I pushed down my fear and followed him as we walked softly into the jungle. We each carried a bamboo stick - the only permitted form of protection in the park.
Trees, trees and more trees. I took a deep breath and tried to think of something else, like which one of us the tiger would want to eat first - definitely not skinny little me.
As we walked down the jungle paths, from time to time our guide pointed out claw marks, tracks and scat - a bear here, a tiger there. "If we're lucky, we'll see them when they come out to mark their territory," he said.
I did not wish to be so lucky. Suddenly, we heard a thrashing in the brush.
"Wait," the guide said quietly, pointing out the source of the noise. My heart almost fell to my knees. We peered into the thick grass and saw a wild boar. What do I do?! I looked at my colleague who stood nearby, busy taking pictures. Then the boar moved on. Phew!
Through the rest of the trek, we saw monkeys, deer, rhinos, crocodiles and plenty of birds. Not one sign of a bear or a tiger! We came back in one piece after three hours of walking in the jungle. I was so proud of myself!
When we arrived back at the village, we discovered some unwelcome followers - a big green spider resting on the Egyptian woman's pants, and a blood-sucking insect enjoying a free lunch half-burrowed into my colleague's flesh.
At the end of the day, we sat down by the river, watching the sunset and laughing about our encounters in the jungle.
As Buddha said, "No one saves us but ourselves; no one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path."
Namaste, Chitwan. You can take a girl out of the jungle, but you can't take the jungle out of the girl anymore.
Rules of Thumb
When to go: The best time to see Nepal is from October to March. During the dry season, you can enjoy clear blue skies and a better view of the mountains. In March, temperatures rise as high as 21 C in the daytime and then drop to freezing overnight.
What to see: If you have time, I strongly suggest a two-week trek through the Himalayan region. But if you only have a few days, spend them with the gods in Kathmandu. A tour guide comes in handy given the numerous temples, tales, myths and legends.
Getting around: Traveling in Nepal can be uncomfortable, but if the chaos of Kathmandu is too much, you can reach Chitwan or Pokhara by bus in seven hours, or by plane in one hour. Cars can be rented for about 300 yuan a day.
Health: Be careful what you eat and drink in Nepal. Never drink the tap water, and be sure to bring medicine in case Nepali food upsets your stomach.