This was my second visit to Bhaktapur, one of the ancient cities in the Kathmandu Valley. My first encounter with its timeless charm was one of the reasons I returned to Nepal. I had felt safe wandering alone through its narrow brick lanes, and still, I wanted to see more.

Bhaktapur is known for having the best-preserved medieval architecture in the valley, earning an honorable mention from UNESCO in 1998.

This time, our goal was to shop for singing bowls. At first, I wondered what made them so special. I thought all singing bowls were the same. You strike them, they ring, and that is it. But as I learned more, I discovered there are several kinds of singing bowls. The ones considered the most powerful and often used in sound therapy are made from seven different metals, each representing one of the seven musical notes. That is why they are called singing bowls.

Until that day, I had only seen singing bowls as spiritual tools. Then I discovered their real science, how sound and vibration can truly affect the body. The secret lies in the resonance created by the harmony of seven metals. Many bowls found in the market are made from three or five metals. Even in Nepal, artisans craft them in specific combinations, each tuned to a certain frequency for sound therapy.

A singing bowl made from seven metals and hand-hammered produces strong vibrations that can be felt even when your hand is placed near the bowl. Machine made bowls do not have this resonance. Another fascinating kind is the Full Moon Singing Bowl, which is only forged when the full moon is clearly visible. If the sky is cloudy, the work is postponed. On regular days, only six people work in the workshop, but during a full moon, thirty-six artisans are needed. They fast and perform rituals beforehand to maintain their energy as they hammer the metal through the night.

In the past, the craft of making singing bowls was kept within one artisan clan. The skill of hand-forging metal was passed down only to family members. Today, as fewer descendants choose to continue the tradition, they have begun accepting apprentices from outside the family.

Amid the pottery stalls in Pottery Square, the singing bowl shop we visited occupied two floors. We went straight to the second floor for a sound therapy session with the Master. There are different certifications for Masters, some specializing only in therapy and others skilled in both crafting and therapy.

Each of us received therapy on the areas of our body that felt sore. The method was simple: the singing bowl was placed on the affected area and struck gently so the vibrations could flow through the body. Before beginning, the Master asked whether anyone had metal implants, such as surgical pins, because the vibration might shift their position.

Half amused and half skeptical, I noticed that the stiffness in my back felt lighter after the session. The vibrations were real, and they made my body feel more relaxed. To get lasting results, though, regular therapy sessions are recommended.

We spent nearly three hours in that shop, receiving therapy and choosing which bowls to bring home to Jakarta. We ended our visit with a Newari style lunch at a nearby hotel restaurant. I was instantly captivated by juju dhau, the famous buffalo milk yogurt served cold in a clay pot. It was creamy and mild, not too sweet, with a fresh grassy aroma, perhaps from the clay vessel itself.

That juju dhau was the perfect sweet ending to our Bhaktapur journey, leaving behind a subtle taste that made me want to return one day.