Nepali Innocence and the secret party

What is really going on in Nepal? I asked myself that daily while in Kathmandu. There are beautiful woman that roam the streets in the most dashing clothes and yet they don't dart an eye at the guys. There are guys with big muscles and leather jackets that walk the same streets holding hands. I went to a disco the other day that was packed with head banging local men. The next disco had a dance floor full of woman dancing with each other.
Why do they segragate themselves? Can the really feel no sexual desire? Do the guys not think the sari is sexy? Do the woman not think that fat, balding, Bollywood actor is intriguing?
Is the religion influence still that strong today?

You look at this scene, day in and day out, and think, thats just the way it is here.

And then! You see the other side! You scratch the surface.

Our neighbors in one hotel happened to be three young Nepali girls. I met them when they barged into my room, sat on my bed, and asked for a cigarette. They were masseuses. They worked downstairs. What exactly their work entailed I never found out. But I learned about them. They smoked pot every morning. The would walk around in their bra's. Boys would call on them and take them out to the disco. Yes, there are 'bad' Nepali girls.

Here's another example

As rules have it now, ALL bars close at 11. So for the average backpacker when the Thamel bars close they call it a night. But there are things happening that only rickshaw drivers know. We asked one to bring us to a party, and he did. We travelled down a dark road for miles. Finally the rickshaw pulled into a driveway.
"Party, party, dancing, drinking, there." He pointed down a long driveway. So we followed the drive way, then a small path, and arrived at this amazing house. More than 100 people were dancing in front of a huge screen. The Dj mixed above the crowd and the music was amazing. There were 40 year-old men with yellow tainted glasses dancing beside men with mohawks. Nepali girls in high heels lost themselves in the trance music. A man in a suit sat in the corner with two beautiful models, one on each arm.

We found a different Nepal.

The night ended when the police locked us in the compound. We were surrounded by armed guards and they demanded that the owner identify himself. After an hour they let us go. It just goes to show, nothing is ever as it seems.