Changu Narayan temple -
Kathmandu valley - Nepal
a hut on a hill
The destination is certain, the journey untold. It is 6 am
at Boudha and we are eager to catch the misty morning in the green of the
Valley. The day is special; the gray mist around the stupa promising frosted
golden light. Pushing a tenner into the hands of the bahini for the morning tea,
we get up to seek, at last, the secret location of the magic of the Valley. We
set off towards our vision – the black saint, Kali Baba of Changu Narayan.
Our first step take us to a stone wall where our small
friend, Binod, lies asleep, his head wedged between rag and concrete, his
comfort a little black puppy, an orphan like he is. Binod is slepping under a
leaking roof. The picture brings back to us the memory of a distant promise.
“Binod, it is Saturday. We promised to take you to that orphanage, remember?
Do you want to go today?” He is silent, vulnerable without the feisty crust of
street-strength that is his usual exterior, so early in the morning. Then he
shakes his head. He lets us go. 
We slip over the hill leaving the saturated city behind and a
new world lies open at our feet: the village of Mulpani, Mulpani meaning “source
of water”. Water or the memory of it is everywhere. Plants heavy with dew,
water gushing forth from open taps, and the silver-sand we walk on, once the
bottom of the lake that filled the sacred Kathmandu Valley.
Looking at Changu Narayan from afar, the place with a cluster
of houses around the fourth century Vishnu temple has the feel of a medieval
Tuscan village. Changu means ‘to cut’ in Newari, Narayan is a name of Vishnu
himself. According to legend, the temple was founded after a gauwala, a
cowherd, complained to a local Brahmin that one day his cow stopped giving the
daily gift of milk. The next morning, as the cow was grazing on a forested
hilltop, they witnessed a little child emerging from behind a tree and sucking
her dry. “It must be a bad spirit,” raved the Brahmin, and they promptly cut
down the tree. Suddenly, a huge face of Vishnu appeared on the trunk. Seeing
his mistake, the Brahmin founded a small shrine dedicated to the god. He
promised his family’s lineage to be the priests of the temple and cowherd
sacrificed himself and his future generations as guardians who would upkeep the
temple grounds. Still today, the “untouchable” Kushal caste are the caretakers
of the temple.
It is the oldest temple and the most important Vishnu shrine
in Nepal. According to historical records, the pagoda style building dates back
to the Licchavi era, when King Haridatta Varma ordered that a shrine dedicated
to Vishnu. The temple area, displaying outstanding pieces of stone, metal and
woodcraft, also boasts the oldest inscription in Nepal. Changu is one of the
cardinal power places in the Valley, and was also acknowledge by the UN, which
appointed it World Heritage site. Entering the temple, we are welcomed by the
sound of ritual. The priest, maybe a descendant of the legendary Brahmin, is
chanting the story of the great hero Ram, an incarnation of Vishnu, himself.
Old women, children and goats gather listening in the carved courtyard, among
wonders of medieval art. The village is a testament of traditional Newari
life. The brick and mud houses with the exquisitely carved pillars and windows,
women in red garb and local Newari delicacies, every-where. Kali Baba’s little
kuthi, (a traditional round hut) sits on top of a circular grassy knoll, an
hour’s walk up along the ridge of Changu. This hill is the last island before
the jungle, where the tiger of Changu is king. Alongside the hut there is a
huge Shiva trident, a small temple and a majestic tree. The tree is 500 years
old and full of Ganesh: you see elephants in its trunk, branches, in the rock it
grew around, even its shadow. Kali Baba is an aghori baba. Aghora means deeper
than deep and an aghori is a Tantric practitioner who has superseded all ritual
limitations. Aghori seek out the dark side of life. They worship death as the
Great Transformer and some embellish this thought by eating deceased humans.
Not Baba, though: he warned us against an American aghori baba who practised
this rite. All aghori babas carve out their own pujas and customs and their
whole life becomes their practice, a spontaneous meditation. Even going to the
toilet becomes a spiritual exercise, a victory over the mundane!
Kali Baba is a dark figure with jet-black clothes, black
skin, black matted hair, a benevolent black face with a cheeky smile…. And a
black dog, Bhagwan. “Paraaam Ananda. Aaalways bliss!” Says Baba. This is “no
problem” land. All hiccups cease to exist as they are handed over to Shiva.
Having lived fifteen years in the burning ghats, Baba has perched himself on the
hill. He believes everyone is God and accepts all people that show up at his
little door. “All are God. You power, me power,” he smiles. Everybody is
welcome for tea, a talk, a puff; all are greeted with that loving twinkle in his
eyes.
Baba is a Medicine Man. Ganja, rosemary, lemongrass, ganja,
black salt, cardamom, fenugreek, and ganja are offered by him to his guests.
His hands are constantly in mudra, magical Tantric forms that accentuate the
flow of energy in all that he does. As the chillum makes its kora round the
hut, the soft light revealed photos-pictures of his guru,
kali,
shiva, the royal family, himself
with his tree. Everything has that aged look as the constant smoke left its tan
on the interiors of the round hut. Sometimes Baba tunes onto the outside world
through his little black radio. “Song gives life and happiness,” he says as he
gives himself over to Bob Marley, classical Indian or Nepali folk music, even
rock. He parrots the BBC World Service: Chinese action, it said.. Movie City is
on..” and laughs. He gets serious, though, about the world, when it came to
wars and cricket. He knows all the cricket scorers, but doesn’t barrack for his
homeland. India (he comes form West Bengal) even against Pakistan. It is all
one country to him. Still, Nepal has a special place in his heart. “Nepal
loving me 45 years running,” he beams. Baba believes that politicians and their
parties are the sources of the problems in the recent years. “The king is
good. Write that down,” he says, pointing to our notebook. He talks of his
plans, too. A new kuthi is being built for people who wish to retreat to Baba;s
savoured power place with a 360-degree view of the whole valley’s splendour.
Baba cares about the locals, too, and is funding the building of a school just
below his home.
It is night now, the warm light of the lantern wraps all of
us in its mystic beauty. As the countless stars begins to trace their way
across the sky, Baba prepares his vegetables with black salt and a myriad of
herbs and spices. He has not eaten rice for thirty years now. “No teeth,” he
says. Everybody delights in the super spicy medicine food, as he shares all he
has. As the night rolls on we get ready for sleep, and a puff or two on the
goodnight chillum is an essential part of this rite. Suddenly Bhagwan runs out
barking.
“Tiger ayoo…. The tiger is here,” Baba says in a soft voice,
without a tine of worry. “Tiger coming, dog catching, dog going …No problem.”
We all wrap ourselves in our sleeping bags around the smoking fire as he slips
into the red one. We wiggle our feet in the air. “Like caterpillars,” we say
and unite in celestial laughter. Caterpillars yes, but butterflies in the
morning.
Source: The Himalayan
Times, March 26, 2005
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Changu Narayan report
23 oktober - 5 november 2004 -
Changu Narayan, Phutung, Pokhara
28 september - 5 oktober 2004 -
Verslag week 3
(Nepalese taalles, lezing Lama Rimpoche, Budhanilkantha, computerlessen in
kinderhuis) 21 - 28 september 2004 -
Verslag 2 - o.a. Bouddhanath,
Kirtipur en Indra Jatra festival
15 -21 september 2004 -
Verslag 1 - o.a. aankomst in Nepal,
Swayambhunath en kinderhuis
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20-11-2009
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