Chibakhel is not usually counted among Kathmandu’s attractions. Situated in Ward 19, it is off the tourist trail and few even in Kathmandu have heard of it.

But like the valley’s other hidden corners, it is oozing with history. More importantly, a local citizen’s initiative has begun to transform a neighbourhood that was one of Kathmandu’s dirtiest and least appealing.

There are supposed to have been 12 Ashoka Stupas in the Valley, and it is surprising how frequently you stumble across one. Chibakhel (from Newari chibakhyo, ‘Place of the Stupa’) is one of these. The stupas probably date from the Licchavi period, and Chibakhel is on a spot that gives it a good claim to antiquity situated on the banks of the Bishnumati where there has probably always been a bridge on the road to Swayambhu.

When the city walls were built, Chibakhel wound up outside them. Since people who did necessary ‘polluting’ work were not allowed inside the walls, the neighbourhood became the home of Newar butchers who still live there.

ALL PICS: SCOTT BERRY

STUPENDOUS STUPA: Chibakel Square looks spick and span after a neighbourhood cleanup campaign. Kamal Shahi, a butcher-turned-Buddhist sculptor who is a moving force behind Chibakhel's rebirth. (below) Devotees line up with vegetarian offerings at the Duwadashi festival. (down below)

The stupa had a pipal tree growing out of it, and it was restored a few years ago, though not with the greatest sensitivity. Still, what was once the scene of daily butchery is now a pleasant square and a playground for children. The initiative to further revitilise the neighbourhood has been taken by Kamal Shahi, who was born in the square and was one of the first to take in hippies in the 1960s (see box).

The stupa plinth is now covered with potted plants, looked after by a gardener with copious advice from the local women. Rubbish collectors stop by to collect trash so it doesn’t pile up in the streets. The square has become part of the route for the Duwadashi procession just before Indra Jatra, and Shahi states proudly that, in spite of this being the butcher’s quarter, the offerings in front of the stupa are uniquely vegetarian.

But his big idea is to build a small Buddhist Vihar on an abandoned plot, not only for ceremonial purposes but as a community centre and library, where young people could learn traditional Newar arts like image casting and paubha painting activities from which ‘lower castes’ have traditionally been barred. Having fought caste prejudice to become a sculptor of Buddhist images, Shahi has personal experience.

Shahi also feels that sometimes Newar Buddhism leans too far towards ceremony and superstition, while forgetting the original message. Now, in preparation for the vihar, Shanta Ratna Shakya, chairman of the Nepal Rashtriya Gyanmala Samiti comes and teaches Pali chanting, while a Newar Theravada monk gives brief sermons on the original message of Buddhism.

The rebirth of Chibakhel has happened because of local initiative. There are no aid agencies or foreign charities involved. It is taking time, but it has a sustainable momentum. Once the Vihar and community centre get built, the locals plan to clean up the river bank. There is not much the inhabitants of the square can do about the sludge coming from upstream, but they can take care of their own part of the Bishnumati.

If such local initiatives take off everywhere along the river, who knows, maybe someday the sand will again turn to gold. 

Scott Berry is associated with CNAS and co-author, with Rashmila Shakya, of From Goddess to Mortal, the True life Story of a Former Royal Kumari.

Golden sands and human sacrifice

Raja Ananda Malla of Bhaktapur learned from an astrologer that sand taken from a certain spot on the Bishnumati at an auspicious moment would turn to gold. That spot is probably Kankeshwari, one of the eight mother goddesses whose temple stands on the banks. The sand did turn to gold, by the way, but the coolies sent to fetch it had already sold it to a Kantipur merchant who subsequently became so rich that he paid off everyone’s debts and established Nepal Sambat (880 BCE).

In medieval times there was a wild stone-throwing festival held here in which the young men of two neighbouring toles competed. It was a rough sport: anyone knocked unconscious or captured by the opposing side was taken to the Kankeshwari temple and sacrificed. The festival was only ended by Jang Bahadur when the British Resident, a Mr Colvin, who had come for a look, was struck by a stone. There is no record of Colvin being sacrificed.

Pig Alley and the flower children

In the sixties when curious and curiously dressed young people started arriving in Kathmandu from Europe, the US and Japan, most Nepalis didn’t know what to do with them. How ritually polluting were these people anyway? This was no problem for the Shahi since by a strange coincidence, the Muluki Ain of 1854 put butchers and Europeans on the same level of the caste ladder. Whether they were actually aware of this or not, the local people opened their homes as lodges and feeding houses. Long before Thamel there was Freak Street. And before Freak Street there was Pie Alley (Maru Tole), and before Pie Alley there was the unfortunately named Pig Alley. And at the very end of Pig Alley stood Chibakhel with its little lodges and teashops clustered around the stupa.

When the people up the hill noticed how well the butchers were doing feeding hippies, they seem to have decided that perhaps foreigners were not very polluting after all and the scene began to move up the hill. But not everyone left. Earlier this year an Italian veteran of the 1960s passed away in a room overlooking the stupa and was cremated just up the river at Bijeshwari. This was an occasion for many old-timers, Nepali, Tibetan and Western, to get together and reminisce.