It is currently the ‘Tij’ festival (pronounced ‘teez’), which is a celebration of womanhood and is an opportunity for Nepali women to dress up, sing, dance and generally celebrate all things woman. As part of the festivities we attended a fair and concert in a local park.
Bath time. Sakar is doing the hard yards…
… revelling in the opportunity to be legitimately pants-less…
… and relaxes after a job well done.
Asha (12) and Sushila (2).
Each child had 10 rupees to make themselves sick with, so first port of call was the candy-floss man.
Asha, dressed to impress during the Tij festival.
A marquee was erected on a local park for speeches and a concert of song and dance.
This elderly matriarch presided over the event and released a bunch of balloons to start the celebration. I wasn’t quite quick enough with the camera, so I have cunningly employed my photo-shop skills to give you an idea of what took place. (I only confess from some sense of journalistic integrity – I wouldn’t want you thinking balloons here actually look as spastic as this).
One of the featured acts – a group of blind singers.
Other attractions included an exhibition game of volleyball…
… tests of skill…
… games of chance…
… and feats of strength. (Ok, so not really feats of strength. I just like the phrase, ‘feats of strength’. It’s even better when you say it aloud. Go on, try it: “Feats of strength!”. Great, eh?)
This hapless punter took out the cans with his final throw and is being congratulated by his mates, blissfully unaware he has effectively signed his own death warrant. Note the young man in the foreground with the handgun. I’ve caught him receiving his orders to ‘retire’ the successful ‘mark’. The house always wins.
As at all fairs, balloons and novelty items were popular.
Sunita and Rabi are looking snazzy in their new gear.
Good fun.
















2 responses so far ↓
allycat // September 3, 2008 at 3:06 pm |
I love the balloons
Go the volleyball
:)
Bruce (the uncle) // September 13, 2008 at 3:39 am |
Hi Vaughan,
Really enjoyed the elephant stories. When I was at boarding school they used to give us a pudding that we called “elephant shit”. It had lots of salt. Does that mean it was at least domestic?!?
Take care.
Bruce.