Upon awakening in Pokhara, we needed to pack for trekking and decide just what would fit into our smallish backpacks for six days on the trail (but with the benefit of staying in guest houses at night). After some hard decisions about taking a second pair of pants or not, we both decided that we would just get grubby and look the part of trekkers. Secondly, Marty opted for the wash a shirt and underwear approach each night, while David packed enough t-shirts for the duration. Once things not going were sorted out and packed into a suitcase, we were ready for checking out and our guide and friend, Hem, was waiting for us.
A driver had been hired to take us to Hem's older sister's home in Taropani located on the same hill as Sarongkot where a few days earlier we had watched the sunrise. The village, however, was another very bumpy dusty two to three miles at about the same elevation. This is a small village with probably a quarter of the houses now empty as the younger people move down into Pokhara or Kathmandu for employment versus staying in the village as subsistence farmers. Unfortunately, there was a lot of haze so the otherwise fantastic view was obscured. On the short walk down to the sister's house, we passed under a string of flowers, which was there as part of the Tihar celebration. We were greeted by villagers and Hem took the time to explain how the people of the village shared their crops and resources, such as buffalo milk. If your buffalo is pregnant she won't produce milk, but if your neighbor's buffalo isn't, they will give you some of theirs. When the time comes, you repay them in kind.
Hem's older sister's two children. The girl is preparing the powder for the tikas.
Hem's younger sister, who lives in Pokhara, came with us for the celebration. When we arrived, we had milk tea and got to meet the two children of the house, a girl about 13-14 and a boy aged 7. Both had some English skills, so even though they didn't speak that much with us, they understood us.
First tikas were placed on the doors of the house. The daughter also took a special offering, placed away from the house, meant to keep the devil away. A pot with oil and incense was also lit. Then Hem and his nephew sat on a mat in the middle of the yard and Hem's older sister walked three times around the mat gently pouring holy water. Then the daughter did the same thing for her brother.
Next was mustard oil, which was put on the hair, ears, and body. Because Hem was going to trek he requested only a little, but the sister gave her younger brother quite a rubdown. After the oil came the tika. Hem's younger sister had cut banana leaf to make a template for the tika and, while holding the leaf to Hem's forehead, she first put down a layer of white, which was flour and water. Next came a dot; each of seven colors after which the template was removed. This was done to the nephew by his sister at the same time. Next was the giving of a plate of food and then gifts. Hem in return gave each of his sisters money.
Now it was our turn, and we sat on the mat while the the process was repeated for us. After we got ours, Hem's niece received the tika from her brother and then Hem's sisters gave tikas to each other. All this was followed by more food! We had amazing sweetened water buffalo yogurt as a drink.
This tika ceremony takes place precisely at 11:55am each year on the final day of Tihar. We were honored that Hem and his sisters would include us in such a private and personal ceremony.
After all this we bade farewell and headed for the starting village on our trek to Poon Hill.
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