Relative Something

Wednesday, 15 April, is an off day for me. We are not going to hike today, so I get to just relax and see what comes my way. I got a pretty good night’s sleep despite the couple/three coughing fits I experienced and also despite the banging door to the toilet, just outside our tent, that received plenty of activity, both at the beginning and end of the night. The weather is warm and sunny with some high puffy clouds. Gary reports a possibility of feeling improvement, but the only hint of it is a brief glimpse of conversation from him during breakfast. I have fried eggs and toast. Their toast reminds me a lot of great toasting bread from home. The eggs are just the way I like them. And it is served on a fancy patterned plate that seems rather out of place here.

Gary returned to the tent after breakfast for a nap and I have plenty of time to write in my journal about some of my impressions… Cell phones very common. Along comes a porter in the middle of very desolate part of a trail with phone to his ear, talking away. Other times it appears to be texting as a person stares at the phone, clicking away while navigating the uneven terrain without a glance. In general, local people appear less social or engaging than I was led to believe. The greetings on the trail tend to come from passing tourists. Sherpas & porters barely give you a glance and almost never speak unless spoken to. Certainly no different than I would expect to find anyplace.

There is more electricity here than I anticipated. Plenty of small hydroelectric sources & where nothing else, they have solar. Plenty of it is buried, but occasionally an overhead line distorts the view. However, more often than not, local people disappear through a door into a dark space where much behind the scenes activity –in large part, kitchen– takes place. Many times these dark doorways, covered by a cloth drape that blows open in the wind, are access to their living space, right on the trail through the village.

Yak herding –or zopcuk, [a cross-breed more comfortable at elevations below Namche]– is a little hard to describe. Unable to decipher their shouts and calls. Mostly there seem to be grunts and whistling and the animal just plods along, picking its own path. When the beasts notice an opening and take a hard left into a courtyard there is much shouting and arm waving to get them back on trail. Occasionally there are swats on the rump to keep progress from coming to a complete halt. For the most part, they always have the right of way. Generally the animals seem to do what they have been bred to do, and just follow the one in front of him/her. Last night, Gary reminded me of when we saw a very young boy of 7 or 8, carrying something on his back that was large enough to keep him bent over, and herding 4 zopcuks in front of him. A bizarre sight, as it usually requires a larger person, and one who can stand upright to manage situations that arise. This little guy was shouting at them and picking up stones (easy reach from his bent-over position) and throwing them (not easy to do from a bent-over position) at the animal’s rumps to inspire them to keep moving.

Today, sitting by the trail in the middle of the day, I get the waves of activity of trekking groups coming and going. Some stop here for their lunch and I get to see the group dynamic and Sherpa-care from the outside and it gives added perspective to my group experience. Then come gaps with few travelers and I get to see the local people going about their activities. I feel lucky to be here, but very far from home.

I asked Lhakpa to take me down to the nearby river to explore and play among the rocks. It is a pleasure to have this extra time for more fully experiencing the place I am in, as opposed to needing to keep moving in order to accomplish the day’s destination. I balance rocks, collect stones, and wash my hands in the icy water. I just sit and look and listen to the roar of the river. I am immensely happy. My clothes are now completely tinted with the color of the dusty earth here.

I have a wonderful time visiting with Lhakpa in the afternoon. He is very talkative and I hear much about the details of farming potatoes, collecting firewood, guiding tourists, and even some local gossip about who drinks too much and has been prone to beating his wife. It is fun to see how some passersby will greet him casually and some more formally and how it sometimes breaks into conversation. Often, he shares what they talk about. Sometimes it is him, answering their queries about what he is doing there, other times it is them, providing him the latest news. Many times Lhakpa checked his cell phone, but kept finding it out of service. We were hoping to learn how our group was doing and to tell them where we ended up. I asked what we will do if he doesn’t get cell service. He revealed that in some of his conversations with people along the trail he has been sending messages up and checking for messages coming back down. Not as instant as the newfangled cell phones, but certainly more reliable, and obviously the way things have been done for ages before the cell phone.

Gary eventually joins us sitting out on the edge of the trail and after it cools a bit, we move in to the lodge where we have dinner. He musters the energy for conversation and I enjoy the opportunity to connect more deeply with him on heartfelt issues. He somewhat arbitrarily sets a goal of staying up until 8 p.m. and accomplishing that feat, we head to the tent for the night. They have relocated it now, after all the trekking groups moved on in the morning. Lhakpa is right there to guide us and make sure all is well. I have had another wonderful, precious day. …(Cough.) It continues to amaze me how much fun I can have even while suffering with this miserable cough.