Ghyangphedi

Monday, October 11
The villagers insist on holding a ceremony in our honor, so we have to allow time for preparations and representatives from other villages to arrive. Meanwhile we have more individual conversations with the villagers. After several hours, the festivities begin with the clang of cymbals, the twang of wooden lutes, and the whine of Tibetan trumpets. We sit behind a long table under a tent, surrounded by Tamangs from Ghyangphedi and other villages. One by one, representatives from all the villages and other groups come up to our table and drape a kata around our necks followed by mutual bows. By the time this procession ends, we guests are each festooned with over 30 ceremonial scarves and flower necklaces.

Tamangs speak a Tibeto-Burmese language and practise the pre-Buddhist Tibetan shamanism known as Bon-po. But many of their traditions have been lost and a cultural committee has been formed to revive traditional practices. Priests (klebre) officiate at funerals and other ceremonies; and shamans (poju) practice ritual healing. Other than the village klebre, the younger dancers are uncertain how to don their scarlet and gold robes and turn to the music, but they manage to muddle through their steps. Village men sing and dance in place. Then two men, dressed in long white robes with colorful trim and headgear, perform a vigorous religious dance while singing, twirling and beating the traditional waist drum, the damphu, flanked by a similarly dressed girl silently bearing a tall bouquet of flowers. Two poju in turn recite prayers with music, dip a flower stalk into the vase, and shake the blessed water onto our palms. Speeches follow.

Finally, after another meal of dal-bhat, we sling on our packs and are escorted out in a parade of the entire village, led by the shamans, dancers and musicians. As we hike down to the foot bridge that connects Ghyangphedi with the outside world, I look up and wave goodbye to the villagers assembled along the high ridge.