Relative Something

In this retelling of the days of the trek, I am now up to Friday, 17 April, but the journal entry for this day starts back at the night before. Just about the time we turned off the flashlights in the tent, it started to rain. It then got harder and harder and harder until it sounded like quite a downpour. Except for a moment of mild initial concern, when I turn my light back on to check for any obvious leaks, it was a great sound to fall asleep to. By morning, the sky was clear blue, and we survived the night pretty much leak-free. We are back to the old routine and are offered tea and washing water at our tent.

Breakfast on this morning deserves honorable mention for its non-breakfast-like offerings: after the oatmeal porridge came a pancake with tuna and onions, and cooked carrots on the plate. What little appetite that had returned to me a day or two ago, suddenly vanished again. After breakfast, we wandered over to where the Sherpas and porters were gathered to present them with cash as a tip for their services. Jim had an envelope for each person and would read a name and as they came to him to receive it, we whooped, hollered, and applauded. After he had handed out his last envelope, one porter stepped forward to report he didn’t get called. Jim assured him we would take care of it. I let Jim know that I had enough to give him right away, but he said he wanted to do it later after he figured out what the correct amount should be. There was a sliding scale and he had taken care of it all himself, but he needed to check his records. Later, Jim told us that he decided to just give him what he thought was the amount he gave the others, but then subsequently found the missing envelope and discovered he gave him too much. I offered that it served as compensation for his embarrassment over having to step forward and say he didn’t receive anything. Maybe in the future they will all be hoping they get missed the first time in hopes of getting a bigger tip.

Then we are off and it is a mostly uneventful trudge to Lukla. It is a long shift of hiking until lunch, which ends up being served around 1:30. We encounter just enough rain sprinkles to cause most of us to put on a jacket and some to cover their packs, and then it stops raining. The lunch stop is in a small, dark tea house where there was a rather large group of Japanese trekkers crashed out in various levels of rest. They slowly move out as we find seats at our place settings and food begins to arrive.

My cough is still bad. The afternoon kind of drags, but the views never end. It is all way beyond my ability to satisfactorily capture on camera. At one point, Jim turns and calls to the older Lhakpa, the Sirdar (Sherpa leader), and asks him to come forward, to walk the last stretch of the trail to Lukla, side by side. It is a poignant moment and reveals, I think, Jim is feeling added sentiment for the possibility this type of adventure may not happen for him again.

When we reach Lukla, the walk through town seems longer than any of us remember. We are done tenting and are given rooms at the lodge where we had tea that first day we arrived. The rooms are awesome and include a bathroom with a toilet. After our tea and snack, we collect the things we intend to donate to our service providers. Like several of the others in our group, I leave them my hiking boots, and then also fleece jacket, a dri fit t-shirt, some socks, solar calculator, some soaps, a pair of sunglasses, a nice ink pen, and left-over candy. It just gets turned over with nothing in the way of ceremony.

As I turned out the lights to sleep, I hear voices and activity outside and I peek out the window to find Lhakpa and the Sherpas sorting through the donated items. I have no way of telling whether our tips and donations were perceived by the staff as having our intended value. There were hints of evidence that the younger guys had a fresh spring in their step and smiles on their faces. I heard from others in our group that some of the guys had already done some shopping in town as soon as they arrived.