Thoughts on Janakpur

Janakpur is an interesting place. It is one of the fastest-growing cities in Nepal, with a huge tourist market from India due to Janaki Temple, a beautiful temple dedicated to the Goddess Sita. It is polluted, chaotic, and busy. Cows and dogs dart across roads, weaving in and out of motorbikes and minivans spewing black smoke. In the heart of the city, the colours are vibrant. Bold oranges, reds, and yellows adorn the saris of locals and visitors alike. Vivacious marigold garlands are for sale on every corner surrounding the temple complex, along with colourful bags full of Tilak and bright orange Laddus. Hawkers sit under umbrellas or vie for a spot near one of Janakpur’s many ponds to shelter from the ruthless sun. There are no traffic lights, so crossing a road takes a mixture of skill and courage (and occasionally a friendly local to grab your arm and guide you).

Haggling with rickshaws is a must, and even in some shops with seemingly fixed prices. There is a phenomenal Thali restaurant owned by a Master Chef winner, and next door is a crumbling corner shop. There are a lot of contrasts. People defecate and throw their litter on the street, and next door someone is tending to their fruit tree. The town centre is a bustling experience, but situated just down the road lies the staff apartment and safehouse. Down a dusty road, you are away from the chaos of the city but never the noise. I was surprised at just how loud Janakpur is. Everything, from the doors to the people; be prepared for volume. Every van, bus, car, and motorbike will honk their horns. Not necessarily at you; I was informed sometimes they just do it for fun. But something is always beeping. The front doors have a mosquito-netted buffer door, lined with wood that makes an impossibly loud slam. And Nepalis, at least down here in Janakpur, use volume for emphasis. One of my colleagues would often explain her conversations with others, and that she was not being rude. It took some getting used to for sure, as Brits are a very quiet bunch. Buffalo, stray cows, dogs, and Brahminy blind snakes line the pathway to the apartment. A giant and pluming mango tree shelters the apartment porch from the sun. Sometimes, the landlord will whack the mangoes with a stick and, if you are lucky, give you one.