As soon as the shouting started I knew what would come next. M reluctantly dragged me back to the entrance of the temple over to the shouting man ready to confront him.
Yesterday, I visited Bhaktapur, an old royal Newari city. For a fee of $15 you can buy a ticket to roam around looking at the temples, old buildings and restaurants within the gates. There was so much to see in the ancient city that we barely saw most of the sights. We walked through alleys littered with tourist merchandise each opening to another square filled with the same Newari temples, columns and shrines. Like the rest of Nepal, the Newari city boasted Buddhist temples alongside Hindu temples which are worshiped equally in Nepal. However, that is pretty much where the religious tolerance ended for me that day.
In Bhaktapur’s Durbar Square there is a beautiful Golden Gate which lies in front of the white palace walls. The golden gate is guarded by two army men equipped with guns who are actually very welcoming beside their ammunition. M took me inside and we walked around the side of the Taleju Bhawani Temple where a huge sign hung with visiting rules. ‘HINDUS ONLY’ it read first and foremost, followed later by no belts, no shoes, no bags, no phones…
When we got to the entrance, I was a bit reluctant about going in, but the armed guard assured M and I it was fine as long as I am a Hindu. With that, I left behind my bag, phone and shoes and entered into the royal temple. At the left side of the temple is a little entrance into a courtyard with a Ganesh shrine adorned with red and yellow powder and some old murky water. Surrounding the little courtyard were old abandoned Newari houses which looked like they have been locked up only the day before. There was also a small entrance leading into another courtyard and another. M and I walked around this little area on the side of the temple and we were the only ones there. It felt majestic and heavenly to be in such a peaceful royal place. Before leaving the beautiful courtyard I knelt down in front of Ganesh, worshiped his statue and stood up to leave. Directly behind me was the door where someone was lurking.
M took my hand and we walked back into the main temple square to carry on our worship. As we continued walking around the main shrine the shouting started. M whisked around still clutching my hand to be greeted by a man yelling from the other side of the temple at us. When we reached said Yelling Man, he was even more angry. I was able to pick up a few words and phrases and had to ask M for a full translation after the ordeal had finished. This was quite lucky for the little man because if I had understood more, I would not stand for his narrow minded comments. Yelling Man started pointing in my face and shouting at me for being a ‘Muslim’. He then turned to M and questioned how he could be a Hindu and let this happen. As we were both in the temple together, Yelling Man assumed we were married and that gave him even more ammunition to shout at M. He questioned M how he could marry me if ‘she eats cow and you eat buff meat’ to which M told him that I was a vegetarian.
The armed guard who had been the one to let us in the temple stood silent looking at the floor. M told Yelling Man that he had no grounds to talk to me in that manner, that I was a Hindu as much as the next person and that he could not decide whether our ‘marriage’ could happen or not. M quickly ushered me out of the temple to where everyone’s eyes were watching me get my things and leave. I walked around the adjacent spring next to the temple feeling glum about what had happened. On the way back to the Golden Gate, M went back inside the temple to find Yelling Man. I waited outside for him but as a young female alone I was beginning to be surrounded by beggars and men asking if I need a tour guide so I walked out and stood by the armed guards at the Golden Gate.
After M had come back out after talking to Yelling Man, I found out that he did not even work at the temple but was a local man just hired to do some construction. They had spoken some more where M told them that the only thing that was stopping me from going inside the temple was my skin color. Yelling Man had little means to defend himself when throngs of Indians and other South Asians were walking into the temple – what check was in place that they were Hindus? It is just based on skin color that there is an assumption they are.
Despite the horrible situation inside the temple, Bhaktapur was a lovely place. However, it does have me thinking about my future in Nepal. What will I do in the future? M will take our children inside temples whilst I will have to wait outside based on the color of my skin? I hope Nepal will slowly change its idea about what a Hindu is and who a Nepali is.
Readers, have you ever been in a similar situation and how have you managed to deal with the discrimination you have found yourself in?