Crossroad of Cultures in Katmandu

The mind’s eye paints a picture of a mist-shrouded kingdom guarded by impenetrable ice-capped mountains, somewhere in the Himalayas of Central Asia.

But there is another world here, in the cobblestone streets of Katmandu.

First you gaze at the peaks--not the snow-clad kind, but glossy white ones crowning a lemon meringue pie.

Next you hear a chorus of beeps from a digital-watch display clashing with the honks of a Mercedes-Benz, whose passenger looks to be an impatient Western ambassador.

Then your nose catches a familiar whiff of cinnamon. The fragrance of chocolate startles you. The aroma of baking bread takes you back to grandma’s.

But wait. Isn’t Katmandu smack in the middle of nowhere? For centuries, wasn’t it one of the great forbidden cities, on a par with Lhasa and Mecca? Didn’t it open to Westerners only 30 years ago?

Although the answers are yes, yes and yes again, Katmandu, a city of 500,000 in one of the least-developed countries in the world, nevertheless manages to offer an astonishing variety of Western sights, sounds and tastes.

Passers-by on its streets may include Buddhist monks, Indian businessmen, Nepali tribal folk and Hindu sadhus, but because the city is a crossroad for an amazing array of travelers, its restaurants and shops reflect their diverse origins.

After finding lodging in the city’s Thamel region, most Western visitors roam the streets, cluttered as they are with souvenir shops and carpet salesmen. Soon they discover, much to their delight, that restaurants are the dominant theme.

On our first day in Katmandu we faced some tough decisions. Should it be bagels and cream cheese at the Pumpernickel Bakery, or Wiener schnitzel at the Old Vienna Inn, or steak flambe followed by apples en croute at K.C.’s Steak House?

After a good look at a few posted menus, it felt as if we were in a capital city (minus big capital outlay) anywhere in the Western world.

We walked on down the block. A health-food restaurant’s special of the day was tofu french fries with sesame dipping sauce. For Americanized eaters, hot dogs and hamburgers can be savored at several stops along the street.

A breakfast at Jamalay’s for only 40 cents included eggs any style, toast, hash browns, grilled tomatoes and coffee. And if a hankering for something sweet overtakes you, check out the international parade of pastry featured in restaurant display cases like some kind of carefully concocted food fantasy.

Within every eating establishment, signs say: “We soak vegetables in potassium permangenate (a disinfectant and antiseptic) and use boiled and filtered water,” thus dissolving the doubts of the food-wary traveler. In the food department, Katmandu has it all.

Becoming a mini-gastronomic paradise was somewhat of an accident for Katmandu. When Nepal joined the United Nations in 1955 and built its first international airport 13 years later, culinary and cultural change coasted in.

Foreigners staffing foreign-aid projects taught the secrets of their cuisine to Nepali assistants.

Later, when the programs ended, chefs trained to cook European, American, Chinese, even Russian food opened their own restaurants to the burgeoning travel crowd.

Some of their most satisfied customers were--and still are--hikers having just completed several days or weeks on the trail. After the local version of dahl baht (rice and lentil soup), travelers are always eager for something more substantial.

Once the appetite is satiated, there’s more to sample in Katmandu. A walk through the shops and vendor stalls of Asan Tole, the big marketplace, is like moving through a living monument to a bygone era.

With an eye for the medieval, you can supply all of your needs for life in the 11th Century. You will find a silver-embellished human skullcap to be used for drinking or in Tantric Buddhist communion.

An assortment of shriveled herbs and roots will cure any ailment, be it physical or mental. For life in the cold country, try on the massive leather boots lined with fur. The equally formidable coat alongside must be the boots’ partner.

For hiking the remotest hills, there’s an elegantly crafted, well-polished metal buckle for fastening your cooking implements to your wraps.

The underside of this wearable tool is a leather pocket holding flint and a shaft of steel for starting a fire.

But if your interests lean toward the modern, Katmandu’s shops can indulge your tastes without ruining your travel budget. In the Durbar Square area, stores galore sell yak- wool sweaters, multicolored and textured for only $8 to $10. Matching gloves cost about 60 cents.

The most recent styles of women’s clothing, including pants, jackets, blouses and skirts, made either in India or Nepal, could complete your Christmas shopping for several years.

For men, too, clothing for all seasons can be made to order. Tibetan jewelry, both old and new, designed in silver embedded with coral, turquoise and freshwater pearls, is featured in fine stores and on the grubby hands of street hawkers.

Before leaving Katmandu you’ll probably do what most do, go trekking. That means hiking the trails (some so steep you’ll think you’re climbing walls) that link isolated villages in the mountains. Equipment needed for any length or altitude adventure is available at reasonable prices.

If you’re lucky, you’ll barter your jeans and tennis shoes for a lofty down sleeping bag, supposedly used by an Austrian climber who scaled Mt. Everest.

You can select from a full gamut of used but functional clothing bearing North Face, Patagonia and REI labels, as well as ice axes, climbing helmets and any kind of backpack imaginable.

A four-day trek in the nearby mountains of Katmandu was a part of our stay in Nepal. For a sweet reward afterward we stopped at Jamalay’s restaurant. While admiring the fruit-filled croissants we heard a clamor outside.

From the window we saw a crowd gathered around a goat, cheering him on. The goat, obviously a bold one, had taken a watch from a woman’s sidewalk display and held it firmly between its front hoofs.

The goat responded to the woman’s attempts at retrieving it by ducking its head as if to charge and then sticking out its tongue and bellowing, “Naaa!” The goat eventually won, and sauntered away with the watch.