ERIC BALDAUF PHOTOGRAPHY

Chitwan

Four glaring red eyes stared out from the shrunken, roasted heads of two enormous water buffaloes, their bulky carcasses clinging to the huge wooden spits dangling above the fire. In my rakshi-induced state, I imagined the animals as Hindu deities locked in fiery combat. Their fatty juices dripped and sizzled onto a bed of blistering coals. A savoury aroma wafted in the air. I felt ravenous.

My companion, Kunda, passed me the jug of rice alcohol. I took a swig and passed it on to the wiry, wrinkled old man sitting cross-legged to my right. He mumbled some slurred toast in the local Nepalese dialect and sprinkled a generous libation onto the dusty ground. He then took an enormous swallow, belched, and passed the jug along.

Across the circle sat Ratna, our host, and his brother, Zari. If things went to plan, this would be the last time they would sit together for the rest of their lives.

The celebration was Ratna's offering to the village elders and their Hindu Gods. Between us a village troupe performed an elaborately choreographed dance in which huge sticks were beaten in warrior fashion in time to drums. Ratna stared at me through the stomping feet and winking, gave me the thumb's up sign. I felt thrilled to be there, as witness and player in the odd drama, that if successful, would boost Ratna out of his untouchable caste, back into the lofty Brahmin realm to which he was born.

Across the village courtyard gathered the women and children. To them fell the task of preparing the feast. Ten wild pigs roasted on spits; a big, blackened pot full of a very illegal and spicy crocodile stew simmered over open flames, as did enormous cauldrons of dahl-baht. This feast, paid for by Ratna, would be talked about in the village for years.

In the centre of the women's gathering sat Ratna's beautiful wife, Alia, the cause of Ratna's downfall, for in marrying an untouchable woman, he too had become without caste, as did his entire family. Though this lowly state did not carry the same stigma in the village as it would have in town, it still prevented the brothers from touching, eating, praying or sharing ownership with anyone of caste. Nonetheless, in the ten years since Ratna's marriage, he and his brother, had continued to work diligently on the family farm and built it into the most successful business venture in the village.

On the tenth anniversary of his marriage, Ratna had decided to reclaim his Brahmin caste. Zari, on the other hand, thought it a wasteful expense, refused to foot the bill for "this hypocritical feast," and decided to remain casteless.

This is where I, as a token and very fortunate foreigner, came into the story. Kunda had been sent to find someone of high respect, but without caste, to set an example and take food with Ratna and Alia at the village feast. This in theory, would be the sign for the high-caste villagers to accept Ratna and his wife back into their fold.

Kunda trekked two days to Chitwan National Park where he found me in tourist heaven, riding elephants, tracking tigers and spying on fornicating rhinos. But those wonderful experiences at Chitwan paled in comparison to the exotic opportunity Kunda offered.

We left for the village immediately.

The feast was fantastic. Everyone ate and drank themselves silly. Even Zari seemed in good spirits though he now had to sit separately from his family. Ratna was ecstatic. He kept slapping me on the back asking if I wanted to marry his teenage niece.

After the meal, Zari rejoined the head table where a trunk of Alia's beautiful silk saris, exquisite brocade scarves and delicate jewellery was placed. The village leader gave a long speech, then took a huge knife and started cutting up the contents of the trunk. Half of each sari went to Ratna, half to Zari. A beautiful silver and turquoise necklace was slashed in two and distributed between the brothers. Alia's every possession was destroyed before her eyes. She sat solemnly, accepting there could be no joint-ownership between her Brahmin husband and her casteless brother-in-law.