Have you ever heard of Falgunanda? His name is all but unknown to Westerners, even those who have visited Nepal. For that matter, many Nepalis have never heard of him, either. But if you are a member of one of the traditional Kirati ethnic groups of eastern Nepal — the Limbus, Rais and others — there’s a good chance you worship in front of his photo.

Champa is a Limbu, from the Dewan clan, so we’ve known for several years of the growing interest among Kiratis in this religious leader, born in 1885, who revived traditional Kirati cultural practices and challenged Nepal’s dominant Hinduism. Today, many Limbus and others have embraced Falgunanda, for both religious reasons and to assert their ethnic identity. It’s part of a movement among Nepal’s indigenous peoples to reclaim their history and demand a fairer share of the country’s resources. Our nephew, Shankar Limbu, with whom we are staying, has been a leader of this effort and has spoken about it at the United Nations and other venues.

On Friday, we hiked with Shankar to Kirat Manghim, a traditional Kirati temple in Sankha Devi Village on the outskirts of the Kathmandu Valley. Along the way, we passed some of the countless Hindu temples, like the white one shown here, which are so omnipresent in Nepal. Buddhist temples are also common, and there are a growing number of mosques and churches as well. However, here in the valley there are few temples especially for Limbus such as Champa and Shankar.

Visiting this one was worth the largely uphill walk of nearly two hours in late-summer heat. The two main structures and prayer flags, shown above, were modest in size and decoration. But they provided a peaceful oasis, and the friendly caretakers were quick to offer chairs and lemongrass tea to help us recover from our ascent.

The main temple features bells and a drum on the outside and an altar and photo of Falgunanda on the inside. We removed our hiking shoes before entering, made an offering and then received tikas on our foreheads as we exited. We also signed the guest registry, with my own signature, in English, now standing out among pages of Nepali signatures. (Yes, I know how to write my name in Nepali, but it was fun to highlight my status as one of the few Westerners to ever visit.)

Nepal’s indigenous people’s movement resembles similar campaigns in other parts of the world, from Indian peoples in Latin America to tribal groups in East Asia. One can also make interesting comparisons with our own country. It’s an important effort, long overdue, and we’re proud of Shankar and his colleagues for what they are doing. We think Falgunanda would be proud, too.

You don’t have to look hard to find signs of the terrible earthquake that rocked Nepal on April 25, claiming more than 9,000 lives and injuring more than 23,000 other people. Both of these buildings in the Lubhu neighborhood of the Kathmandu Valley, where we hiked on Friday afternoon, suffered devastating damage and remain in rubble. People died here.

Even more people died in the nearby city of Bhaktapur, which shares the traditional brick architecture that proved so unstable in the quake. Bhaktapur is a World Heritage site and beloved tourist destination, with elegant temples and sculpted windows, but much of it was destroyed. Likewise, many towns and villages even closer to the epicenter are still struggling to rebuild, their situation worsened by Nepal’s ongoing political dysfunction.

What’s striking for a visitor arriving five months after the disaster, though, is how the Kathmandu Valley simultaneously continues to boom and expand. I lived here for more than a year in the late 1970s and remember bicycling along idyllic fields and paths in neighborhoods now crammed with houses, shops, vehicles and pollution. The photo shows what has become a common sight: green fields being replaced by cement homes. Indeed, Champa and I are staying in a house that didn’t exist a few years ago, one of many transforming the local landscape. These newer structures generally fared better in the earthquake, although many did suffer some damage.

On Thursday afternoon, we walked to a modern shopping complex that sells everything from ready-made Indian food to Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, along with Western fashions, appliances and whiskey. I rode up several escalators to buy a memory stick for my laptop — much cheaper than at Best Buy, thanks — and passed a display for luxury condominiums. (Let me pause: Luxury condominiums in Kathmandu. Wow.) Just down the road, these construction vehicles were finishing up another day’s work on a bridge.

I’m reluctant to draw any conclusions about the earthquake until we’ve visited other parts of the country and talked with more people. Despite the enormous destruction and human toll, however, it does seem the Kathmandu Valley is continuing to build and grow, for better or worse, regardless of what’s happening elsewhere.

We’ll be visiting some of those other places soon. But first, stay tuned for a visit to a fascinating temple rarely seen by Westerners. If you have any reactions to what I’m posting, I encourage you to share your thoughts here.

A gunman just shot up a school in Oregon, Hurricane Joaquin is bearing down on the East Coast and Donald Trump is still running for president, but you wouldn’t know any of that here in Kathmandu. The big news since we arrived three days ago has been India’s blockade of gasoline supplies into Nepal.

This gas station and others are usually busy with customers. Since Thursday, however, the Nepalese government has banned petrol sales to private vehicles, accelerating a local sense of crisis. A day earlier, we passed hundreds of motorcyclists waiting in a line stretching across several city blocks. Cars waited in similar lines, often to no avail.

India is acting in support of Nepalis of Indian descent and others who have been protesting what they consider unfair representation in the country’s new constitution, which the major political parties recently adopted after years of dispute. Since almost all of Nepal’s fuel passes through India, the blockade was immediately disruptive, including to our own travel plans. As I write this, there are tentative reports of a resolution. We’ll see what happens.

Personally, I’ve been more distracted by the simple pleasures of Nepal, which have surrounded us since we arrived. Champa and I went out to dinner with our nephew and his wife, for instance, and enjoyed local delicacies such as these delicious momos, or dumplings. The bill for the four of us, with drinks, was less than $13. As we took a long walk on Friday afternoon, far from the tourist areas, we passed children playing next to temples, women working in lush wheat fields, ducks waddling across the street and students with ties and backpacks returning home from school.

I’ve also been charmed by the signs on Nepal’s local shops, which continue to use English in unexpected ways. (“Fooding and lodging” remains a standard.) The sign for this tattoo parlor appeals to “ladies and gents.” Nearby was a shop selling Mountain Dew, which is manufactured locally and called “Dew” by everyone. We also passed this Hindu swastika on someone’s house — not unusual in Nepal, but still a reminder that we’re no longer home.

We’ve seen lots of evidence of the April earthquake, which will be the subject of my next post. If you have reactions or comments, please share them here!