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Guest Editor! My Man on Patan!


When venturing into the ancient city of Patan, across the Bagmati River via the "Japanese Bridge", we were walking along, and, turning a corner, came across a procession.  Led by the cacophony coming from an assortment of men playing instruments, followed by rows of ladies in their finest parade saris - red, pink, or one renegade in yellow - was a grandmother being carried aloft in a palanquin (chair) with decorations of winged horses on it.


 For one of the major groups of Nepal, the Newars, when one attains the age of 77 years and 7 months and 7 days, they are no longer mere mortals, but become gods, dyas, (those that can fly.)  The ceremony, Buraa Janko, starts off with the washing the new god's feet in milk, and marks the  occasion of the transformation from human to God.  They become fliers who are far-seeing and insightful elders.


Patan and it's temples and museums.


The intricately carved wood is everywhere.   Patan is known as a 'City of Artists.'


The mix of the old and the new.   Here an Everest Kennel Club signboard and one with character.   Guess which I prefer!

Thanks to Cub reporter Ngwang Leshe.


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