By the title, I am referring to mine. The place where I live and the changing makeup of the neighborhood. My perception of change differs greatly from people who have actually been here for a long time, like a decade or more.
Like all major cities, Kathmandu has also experienced a tremendous spurt in growth, and the old-timers here will confirm how entire neighborhoods, entire quarters, hell, entire counties were nothing but a bunch of peasants with their cow and buffalo only a few years ago. I have been here for less than a year, and yet changes here are already tangible.
When I first came here, we were one large German owned house, next to a large American owned house, next to a large Indian owned house and a half a dozen puny local ones that were little more than the unhappy product of the marriage between trailer and shanty. Well, the shanties have been torn down, quicker than you can say ’namaste’, and their replacements are already on deck. As quick as houses go down, they go up. Here, it takes them months, and the plural form applied here is generous. Unencumbered by pesky regulations for security and safety, as well as other environmental issues that might arise for the investor, these houses go up fast. The primitive bamboo scaffolds erected against the sides of these new houses attest to the sheer will of people to have things built, be it a house or a highrise. Unions back in the States would be crying bloody murder.
One house in this neighborhood two lots away is complete, whereas it wasn’t even a dig of a shovel months ago. Two old houses that were torn down on the adjoining lot hid the fact that this was a huge tract of land, something the owner must have finally learned. The lot next to ours is now a wide field, peppered by walls supposedly demonstrating its border perimeters. The landlord has bigger ambitions with the land, that seems clear. I only wondered, with a city mired in poverty, where are they going to find all of these rich people to afford these houses? Just a thought.
What’s more, the removal of the local houses in the neighborhood have removed any source of neighborly intimacy and replaced it with a different sort of intimacy, meaning the paved road leading up to my home has become…Lovers Lane.
Here, not unlike the Middle East where I was before, public affection is underdeveloped here. You will see the odd couple holding hands, but more than not you will find people of the same gender doing that. To satisfy any other shameful ideas here, you will have to find a place more private. They have officially chosen the region in front of my house for this purpose. Their thinking undoubtedly finds its roots in their perception that the American, or super dallit, knows no shame. And so far I haven’t ratted on them, so I guess their trust is well invested.
The lovers in question are teenagers, young ones, no older than fifteen. Knowing that cars could show up at any moment, they squeeze themselves into the recesses in the wall where the gates are. They are serious about this. You will find them hugging and kissing and making damn sure the chance of discovering them is minimal. It’s the same kids every time, too. They seem to feel comfortable here.
After my vacation in Germany, I was baffled to find that so much could change in two weeks. The house about a hundred yards away is a prime example. But there were also other houses a few blocks away that just looked like they had grown too quickly. Aside from that, my yard was a virtual jungle after a couple of weeks, the result of two weeks of monsoon rain.
Like all major cities, Kathmandu has also experienced a tremendous spurt in growth, and the old-timers here will confirm how entire neighborhoods, entire quarters, hell, entire counties were nothing but a bunch of peasants with their cow and buffalo only a few years ago. I have been here for less than a year, and yet changes here are already tangible.
When I first came here, we were one large German owned house, next to a large American owned house, next to a large Indian owned house and a half a dozen puny local ones that were little more than the unhappy product of the marriage between trailer and shanty. Well, the shanties have been torn down, quicker than you can say ’namaste’, and their replacements are already on deck. As quick as houses go down, they go up. Here, it takes them months, and the plural form applied here is generous. Unencumbered by pesky regulations for security and safety, as well as other environmental issues that might arise for the investor, these houses go up fast. The primitive bamboo scaffolds erected against the sides of these new houses attest to the sheer will of people to have things built, be it a house or a highrise. Unions back in the States would be crying bloody murder.
One house in this neighborhood two lots away is complete, whereas it wasn’t even a dig of a shovel months ago. Two old houses that were torn down on the adjoining lot hid the fact that this was a huge tract of land, something the owner must have finally learned. The lot next to ours is now a wide field, peppered by walls supposedly demonstrating its border perimeters. The landlord has bigger ambitions with the land, that seems clear. I only wondered, with a city mired in poverty, where are they going to find all of these rich people to afford these houses? Just a thought.
What’s more, the removal of the local houses in the neighborhood have removed any source of neighborly intimacy and replaced it with a different sort of intimacy, meaning the paved road leading up to my home has become…Lovers Lane.
Here, not unlike the Middle East where I was before, public affection is underdeveloped here. You will see the odd couple holding hands, but more than not you will find people of the same gender doing that. To satisfy any other shameful ideas here, you will have to find a place more private. They have officially chosen the region in front of my house for this purpose. Their thinking undoubtedly finds its roots in their perception that the American, or super dallit, knows no shame. And so far I haven’t ratted on them, so I guess their trust is well invested.
The lovers in question are teenagers, young ones, no older than fifteen. Knowing that cars could show up at any moment, they squeeze themselves into the recesses in the wall where the gates are. They are serious about this. You will find them hugging and kissing and making damn sure the chance of discovering them is minimal. It’s the same kids every time, too. They seem to feel comfortable here.
After my vacation in Germany, I was baffled to find that so much could change in two weeks. The house about a hundred yards away is a prime example. But there were also other houses a few blocks away that just looked like they had grown too quickly. Aside from that, my yard was a virtual jungle after a couple of weeks, the result of two weeks of monsoon rain.
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