My stay in Nepal has shown me the surface of what may be deeper structures, namely that a system of reciprocity and support underlays many, if not perhaps most, interactions.
Today, a guide showed me to 3 difference cultural sites. This guide is employed by a very reputable trekking agency, but he also knows several people in these locations. Although the trekking agency is not particularly involved in tourism, it wasn’t lost on me that at the end of each site tour, my guide always found a way to walk me through markets where goods and souvenirs were being sold.
And I’m not trying to be cynical. Obviously, this is what many tourists want. But it’s interesting how somebody who doesn’t otherwise benefit from the sale of these things would be sure to route his clients through these areas. If I had to venture a guess, I would say this might be a larger system of support at work.
At Bhaktapur, I avoided all the street food because the health standards at those locations are very low, and for foreign stomaches, it’s basically a recipe for diarrhea. But at the end my guide asked me if I wanted to see the kukris, a sepcial type of multipurpose knife. I thought he was talking about a museum or display piece, only to be taken to a shop that sells them! I really have no interest in owning a kukri, but politely took a look as the shop owner tried hard to convince me that if I buy one, I’ll “have it with [me] forever”. I had to keep declining, and my guide tried to reassure me I didn’t need to buy anything. It was kind of annoying, though. I’m just not a souvenir kind of guy. What the hell would I do with a kukri sitting in a drawer?
At the end of the next place, I was taken to a Buddhist art school. I think my guide finally picked up on what I was interested in. But this art school was well crafted for sales. They had a path through the actively working artists on the third floor that showed you the process, then a sitting area and table on the second floor with lights overhead so the curator could describe the Buddhist paintings and sell them to you. Of course, the guide stayed outside, to let the salesman do his job.
I gotta say, meeting a Buddhist with hustle is a strange experience.
The truth is, though, I WAS interested in buying art.
In the “sales room” the salesman showed me a wheel of life painting on the wall, and talked me through all of its symbolism. I listened politely – it was slightly interesting – but it wasn’t anything like the beautiful scroll of Tibetan script to my right. After listening to an explanation of another artwork, I asked about the script art and received an explanation if that.
Now you gotta understand, as a Christian who has experienced a fair amount of spiritual warfare, little warning bells go off in my head when I find what I can only describe as demonic artwork. Don’t get me wrong, I love culture, and I love cultural artwork, and I love the diversity of styles in the world. But I’m not going to put an avatar of Vishnu on my walls (to use a Hindu example). So all of this rich Buddhist symbolism wasn’t something I really wanted to buy, because I don’t believe it’s true, and I think it leads people astray.
That being said, this was the place I wanted to be.
As I tried to listen intently to what the man was saying, I struggled to just pray. God, what do I do?
But when I saw the paintings of Tibetan script, I knew I would buy one of those. I wasn’t there to support Buddhism. I was there to support the hands of those people who wrote those very human letters.
Strangely enough, the guy had said nothing about those until I asked. (I think the paintings he talked about were more expensive). But he talked about those a bit, and tried to sell me on two of those kinds, because, of course, I’ll “have it with [me] forever”, can give the second one to friends, blah blah blah.
There’s a soft spot in my heart for aesthetics. I’ve even been told that for a dude (that is, a straight dude), that my interior design skills are much better than average. I like that. That makes me happy. I like when my surroundings look pleasant and make me happy.
And I also have a number of artist friends. I feel like art is a unique gift that has so much power, but is so often swept under the rug, and has been ever since market economies came into existence. Art can be expensive. It rarely has any utility other than pure aesthetic value.
But it goes beyond that. I once saw a quote from Allain de Botton: “Art is propaganda for what really matters”.
I told the man that his artists had a true gift. I wish I could have told them myself. I briefly told him about the role of art in one of my friends’ lives. I told him that the thick green stripe on one painting (ignoring its symbolism), reminded me of the value of the people of this earth. So whereas his angle was the Buddhist message, my angle was, “it’s pretty and people matter”.
I declined to buy two but did buy one.
I briefly want to mention, I actually thought I got screwed at first. My gut told me to barter down a bit, but I didn’t. But the information asymmetry was huge. How would I know if a $120 painting was actually worth that much? What if it was only worth $20? I reflected on this while eating food, looking out over a stupa. I would later look it up online and find that this painting sells for $100, and is on sale for $80. So yes, I overpaid, but not by much, and I probably could have bartered down afterall, which likely has something to do with the “list” price. I’m just a dumb American who didn’t barter. But my side of the bargain was that I offloaded one of my $100 USD bills I stupidly didn’t exchange at the airport, and paid the rest in rupees. People prefer rupees, so he just has to find a place that will give him a good exchange rate for it.
“Isn’t that what you do, though? Try to pay full price for art?”
I guess. Yeah, that – yeah. I still think of that painting I saw in Idaho Springs of a snowy path, selling for $200. I get it. It’s just, I thought it was worth $300. (Could it still be there? I’ll have to check sometime).
Writing this on my phone sucks, but I’ll try to round this out. I just wanted to support the people, and it really is cool. Bondage exists under religion, whether that’s Christianity (in the strict, authoritarian form) or Buddhism, or whatever, all contrary to the message of Christ. But I wanted to make sure he heard from me the subtle message, I support you, just not the bondage of this path you and your students are striving to follow. (Not that there isn’t a place for studying these religions to better understand them).
The pandemic hit Nepal really hard. Tourism – 20% of the economy – suffered tremendously. So it’s fascinating to see people pay others to hold signs, for guides to subtly encourage their clients to buy, to support. It’s the extra few dollars to the car driver, the system of tipping, the tension between the professionals and the people on the streets. Smiles and namaste in the shops.
I have no other words for today.