Languish at the gates of the temple as rags. It looks hungry and look, sad. No caress, no hand to lengthen them some food. Starve or sacrificed to Shiva. These goats wandering like lost souls bear the sins of devotees are Hindus and considered impure.
Patan is our last stop on the outskirts of Kathmandu to trace the ancient medieval kingdoms of Nepal today. After visiting the immaculate Bhaktapur, expect an abrupt return to reality. And comes early. On the banks of Río Bagmati, Dozens of onlookers are swirling around the corpse of an unfortunate, swollen like a wineskin full of wine, which is drowned in its waters.
Patan has the charm of a city where everyday life melts with the splendor of its glorious past. This is not to breathe the scent of Bhaktapur museum and souvenir (acknowledge in advance that the latter view may be tax fatigue and, therefore, point unfairly). Most of the population of the "city of beauty" (Lalitpur, also known as) a Buddhist. Until almost a hundred temples of this creed came to run in the streets, of which now survive only a handful. The most representative, el Kwa Bahal, founded in the twelfth century, and everyone refers to as the Golden Temple by the golden tones of the facade. Although they could also call it the Temple of Rats, by the large number of rodents entrenched in one of its chapels.
Patan has the charm of a city where everyday life melts with the splendor of its glorious past. This is not to breathe the scent of Bhaktapur museum and souvenir
Most temples in Patan are surrounded by homes and businesses, in courtyards where daily life bustles around. The people of this ancient kingdom are proud of their temples, but seem unwilling to lock them in showcases and become a theme park (although copper entry), which, incidentally, is appreciated. I will not list the visit to various Buddhist and Hindu shrines. All that information is in the guidebooks. But I want to dwell in a temple, that of Kumbeshwhar, consecrated to Shiva, where I was struck by the presence of several goats wandering abroad or numbed by the entrance. Asked, clear. And the explanation I got blown away. It follows that Hindu ceremony allows the faithful to move their sins, su karma negativo, of an animal, in this case goat, or even a cock, that from that time bears the sins of others wandering like a ghost of the Holy Company animal around the temple in question. Anything goes on the road to Nirvana. These goats can not leave the sacred precinct, because if they do they risk the wrath of the most intransigent. Nobody gives them food. They are a touch of hell. Most of these animals end up slaughtered to honor Hindu deities, but if not agonize hunger, converted errant skins. None of the women attending the tika impose them lends the slightest attention. And they, judging by their appearance fatigued, carry on their backs tons of sins. Prefer confession, truth.
The city of noses cut
No one would, walking in the peaceful center of Patan, the old Newari Dynasty capital was the scene of a cruel looting almost 250 years. And 1769, the fearsome Gurkhas from Northern India (than half a century after most ferocious integrate units of British troops from the East Indies) invaded and razed the city, sowing terror among the population. Noble families of Patan were put to the sword, while farmers mutilated with a practice inflicted by the Gurkhas conquered peoples: cutting off the nose.
In "At the heart of the Himalaya", David-Neel tells how in a village near Kathmandu Gurkhas cut off his nose and lips all men and boys over ten years, stigmatize the village with the humiliating name Naskatpur (City noses cut), which eventually abandoned, quite rightly, to be renamed Kiatipur. Sometimes the release of a people begins to settle accounts with the toponymy.
Noble families of Patan were put to the sword, while farmers mutilated with a practice inflicted by the Gurkhas conquered peoples: cutting off the nose.
In the main square of Patan, children speak Spanish you offering their trinkets. The more daring ask me glasses. You get to give them two euros for. Tourists often give them coins they can not change and, now, persist in the junkyard let go all in exchange for a five dollar note. In the arcades of the temples are joined idle youth groups who observe the tourist with a mixture of indifference and disdain. The traveler, sometimes, can not avoid, as happens to the poor goats, bear sins of others, prejudices and molded for centuries by generations. At least I will feed me.
