Relative Something

The entry in my journal for Thursday, 16 April, has the same information as all the others: how I slept and what I ate for breakfast. But the only thing that is on my mind this day is that it is the one when my group gets back together again. I spent a fair amount of time on the days off contemplating the group dynamic and my affection for my group. It was a real shock to be suddenly removed from the camaraderie of cohorts. For some reason –one that probably isn’t hard to understand– I found myself subsequently in a very isolationist mindset. When trekking groups stopped at the lodge in Monjo where Gary and I were staying, I observed their interactions from more than just a physical distance. With Gary spending much of his time resting in the tent, I was often alone, and as the groups arrived with all their combined energy and excitement, I noticed, even more, my strong feeling of so not being with a group. I became a silent observer. Even though I was on a similar trek to theirs, it was as if I had no connection to make.

From that perspective, I would recognize the interactions, some rather annoying from the outside, that I had been a participant in just days ago. It created a bit of a dual desire in me because I am very comfortable not being part of a group and in many ways prefer it, but I also very much wanted to be back together with the travel companions for whom I had very quickly developed an intense affection. Most of the morning was spent in a mindset looking forward to the time when Lhakpa and I could head up the trail to meet the gang coming down. Gary was doing ok, certainly not appearing to continue to get worse, but he wasn’t up to wanting to do the hiking I was planning. Lhakpa said we could head out about 1 p.m.

It had been a couple of days since I did any real hiking and I was chomping at the bit to go. I was also looking forward to not needing to wear my daypack and felt a little smugness over being able to hike with Lhakpa as opposed to the more common looking tourist, with pack and trekking poles, following behind their Sherpa. For the first time in the whole trek, I was able to take off at my more natural pace as Lhakpa sensed my ability and we moved along at a pretty good clip, deftly picking our steps up the rocks on which I had plodded just over a week ago, the first time up. It took on a whole new slant for me, adding a richness to my experience; certainly one I wouldn’t have had if I’d not suffered the limitations of my lung condition. I did try to be careful to not over do it with my pretending to be as able as Lhakpa to climb, as I still had the residual cough and heavy breathing would do nothing good for me. The art of guiding, that the lead Sherpa employs, is in their ability to continually check and gauge the status of those they are leading, and adjust the pace accordingly. All I needed to do was slow down, myself, and then his pace would slow in front of me.

I balanced some rocks while waiting

We reached a spot that I remembered well, where we could see one of the footbridges high in the distance and where the real climbing of the next section begins. While waiting there we played a game I started, based on one Lhakpa had told me about being commonly played by kids. They would make a hole and try to toss coins in. The one who hits the hole gets all the coins that have been tossed. I noticed a plastic bottle cap lying nearby and set it on a rock a little ways away and we took turns trying to hit it with small stones. It drew the attention of one young guy that appeared to be wandering the trail with no agenda. He seemed thoroughly entertained to just stand and watch for quite some time. Lhakpa beat me repeatedly with his superior accuracy.

Lhakpa would exchange greetings with porters and guides passing us, and then one guy sat against a rock facing us and talked for a long time. After he left, Lhakpa said, “That was my brother-in-law.” He hadn’t seen him in quite a while and they did a lot of catching up. The guy had done some guiding of climbing expeditions recently. Suddenly there were excited greetings exchanged and I recognized that some of our porters had reached us. It was a treat to see them again and they seemed very happy to see us. That got my energy up, but it would still be quite a wait before the trekkers would arrive. Several more porters for our group came by and then our cook, Gyalzen and his wife, Yashi, herding our zopcuks. Lhakpa seemed to know that our group would be well-behind them, but I was feeling it was getting close now.

When this next portion of waiting started feeling long, Lhakpa asked me if I was interested in going higher to meet them. I was all in. As we climbed, there were still plenty of opportunities to view the trail snaking down the steep rise across the river from us and we kept an eye out for our group. Before we reached the footbridge, Lhakpa spotted them on the trail. We made it up to the bridge before they got there and took up positions on the far side to wait. I stepped out into the open on a large flat boulder overlooking the bridge and river below, trying to make myself as big and visible as possible. When they reached the bridge I put my hands in the air and watched to see if any of them would look up and across before they stepped on. The lead Sherpa didn’t. Jim didn’t. But then, I think it was Carol, …I see her head look up and then the body language of recognition, and as she shares the sighting with the others, I feel a surge of joy over connecting with them again.

My view of hiking with the goup again

We created a bottleneck at our side of the bridge as I met each one with a hug and everyone wanted to talk at once. Jim’s first question was for news on how Gary was doing. I think that when they didn’t find us waiting for them at the village above on the night before, their minds considered worst scenarios. I relished the hike back to Monjo with them. Pam’s knee was still bothering her and I was able to offer to carry her pack. I was part of a trekking group again. I had no problem with that. And, when we got back to the tents, there was tea served and a popcorn snack and we got washing water again! It’s hard to describe how precious that was.