A Maoist Strike

An Eerily Quiet Kathmandu.


Woman Passing by Road Blockade.


Burning Garbage in Kathmandu.


UN Convoys Shuttling Employees to Work.


A Random Temple.


Man with Bike.


The streets of Kathmandu are quiet and eerie today--there is a Maoist strike and the whole city has been shut down. Everything is closed. Blockades have been set up on the street--no taxis, buses or private vehicles are allowed to transit. The only vehicles on the streets are ambulances, convoys from the United Nations, trucks carrying soldiers with machine guns and bullet proof vests, and the occasional mini buses from the Nepali TV station stopping to drop off photographers and then swiftly driving away. I feel like I'm walking through the scene of a newscast by the BBC--in the background tires are burning and UN jeeps with massive antennas drive authoritatively through the lonely streets; in the foreground, young boys laugh and play football on the street.

As I approach the tourist ghetto of Thamel a little boy approaches me and points to a group of protesters wearing red shirts and carrying bamboo poles--"Strikers, Don't go there!" he warns. Then he smiles at me and asks "Where you from?" The United States, I respond. He smiles. I wonder what he wants from me. He continues. "Your capital is Washington D.C., your 1st president was George Washington, your 16th president was Abraham Lincoln, your current president is Obama. What state are you from?" California, I respond. "Your capital is Sacramento" I'm not sure I knew that until I lived there, I think to myself. You are a smart kid." I tell him. "You can ask me any capital of any country in the world and I will tell you the answer!" Ok, what is the capital of Colombia? He doesn't even stop to think. "Bogota." What is the capital of Bhutan. "Thimpu." I've just learned something new. "Your flag has 50 stars because there are fifty states. Your flag has 13 stripes because you were trying to make 13 kingdoms." I have to laugh. I try to explain to him that we had colonies, not kingdoms. He looks at me skeptically and says--"If there was no king, then how were their colonies? What is a colony?" The kid is really smart--but I go back to wondering what he wants from me. He picks up on my distraction immediately and interrupts my thoughts "Can you buy me some milk?" he asks. I look around. Everything is closed, I say. He suddenly remembers about the strike and looks down sadly at his feet. "I don't want your money" he reassures me "money is bad. I just need milk." He points to a pharmacy-- "Maybe there?" he asks. It is a pharmacy--I don't think they have milk. "But I need powdered milk," he insists. He has a desperate look on his face. Is it for your family? I ask. "No, its for my little brother." He asks for milk at the pharmacy, but they don't have any. We both look up and down the streets--there is no possibility of milk today. I pull out my wallet and hand him 50 rupees. Its okay, I tell him. Take the money. Buy your milk tomorrow.