Bamboo, Nepal 8/31/07

Bamboo, Nepal 8/31/07
- Annapurna Base Camp Route -

When I pictured my trip to Nepal I envisioned chilly hikes along rocky hillsides in the shadows of snow covered mountains. Where I sit now though feels more like a jungle expedition than a trek along the rooftop of the world. This is not a complaint rather a pleasant surprise. Technically I knew I was arriving at the end of Nepal’s monsoon season but I still wasn’t expecting the lush vegetation, and thick, wet forest that I have found on most of the trail. For example, the little village I’m in takes its name from the dense forest of bamboo that surrounds it.

I arrived in Kathmandu on the afternoon of the 24th and left to start trekking at 6:30 a.m. on the 25th. It was a 7 hour bus ride to the town of Pokhara, a short taxi ride to the edge of town and then a rocky path up into the countryside; about 3 hours of climbing stone steps until I reached the first village, Dahmpus. Stop one on my 15 day trek to and from the Annapurna Base Camp.

I hired a guide in Kathmandu and while I probably didn’t need one I’m really glad I did. With a good map it’s pretty easy to figure out where you are going. The paths are easy to follow and you are usually just a few hours from a village that has a map & distances easily marked. It’s a simple system, and not developed in a modern touristy sense, but this place is definitely set up for English speaking trekkers.

The cost for a guide though was within my budget and after a month of figuring out every step on my own I thought a little vacation from having to think and calculate would be nice. All I would have to do is hike and enjoy the scenery. Someone else could figure out where we were going and where we were staying when we got there. So far this benefit has been nice but I am finding out I like having my guide for more reasons than that.

My guides name is Pasan Ngima Sherpa, but he just goes by Ngima (pronounced “Neema”) He hails from a small village called Phedi, which is in the Everest Region of Nepal, maybe 400 miles East of where we are now. He is 33 years old and has been guiding treks all over Nepal, India, and Tibet for over a decade.

While the Annapurna area, and from what I can tell many other areas in Nepal, is set up for trekkers, this is the end of the monsoon season; not the ideal time for hiking here. The busy season kicks in towards the end of September and goes to December. Until then the trails are pretty empty and the tea houses/guest houses in the hillside villages are slow. For the first 4 days Ngima was my only conversation.

It has been a pleasure getting to know him and I have learned a lot about Nepal through our conversations in broken English. Also, with Ngima’s help, I’ve spent many nights just hanging out with the local Nepalese. The season for tourists hasn’t kicked in yet so at night the Nepalese that run the tea houses aren’t very busy. They gather at one of the lodges to hang out, play cards, etc. So I sit at the table with them and try to look like I fit in and I’m following the conversation…even though it’s Nepalese. They are always nice and usually a few of them speak some English so eventually they ask me questions about America or places I have been. It’s a simple thing. Just sitting around really but I love it! It has provided me with some greet moments where my mind wonders how I got here. I’ll think, “I’m a 2 day hike to the nearest thing that you could call a road and I’m talking by candle light with two Nepalese guys about arranged marriages, Buddhist customs, and what New York looks like. This is AWESOME!"

I remember one night after talking about America with Ngima and the proprietor of the guesthouse we were staying, the owner said. “America…it’s so far away. You have come very far.”
I said, “No not really. At least it doesn’t feel like it. It was easy, I just booked a flight. Ngima, if you left right now how long would it take you to get to your village?”
His eyes rolled back in thought and then he said, “3 days.”
I said, “I bet I could get to my village in the United States in 3 days also.”
It was silent for about a minute while everyone did the route in their heads…granted my trip would require commercial air line assistance and Ngima’s would probably just count on local busses and his feet but in the end they nodded their heads in agreement.
“You see “far” is only in your mind.” I pointed out.

A couple nights ago I met up with my first Europeans of the Trek. They were a couple, my age, from Spain, named Jesus & Susanna. They were staying at the same guest house as me, which was also the only one that was open, at the Machhapuchhre Base Camp (MBC). It was great to meet them and we have been on the same route for the last 3 days so there’s been lots of fun conversations with them. Normally Jesus is teaching/learning swear words with the Nepalese. It’s like being on a playground again in 4th grade. I try to participate but both sides already know how to swear in English so I don’t have much to contribute.

I think the first night with them though set the stage for the rest. At the lodge, we again were the minority with about 10 Nepalese hanging out for dinner and cards. It was probably just 8 p.m. or so but it was very dark outside, and a chilly rain was falling, so inside felt very cozy and late. As the Nepalese were waiting for their Dal Baht to cook one of the guys busted out an acoustic guitar.

He started plucking through some tuning chords and everyone seemed to find a comfy spot in preparation for the entertainment. The lodge was a typical one for this area; a rectangular room, about 15’x 25’. The main focus and purpose of the room was the long table in the middle, about 8’ x 15’. It had blankets attached around the edge to cover up your legs, or to hold in the heat when they put heaters under it on colder days. Around the outer walls of the room were raised platforms, about 3’ wide by 7’ long but placed end to end so the thin mattresses that cover them make a nice soft lounging area all around the table. This is also where the guides and porters sleep in the busy season. There were pillows and blankets tossed about and I was perched at the far end of the lodge from the door and the guitarist; reclining on a pillow, legs covered up, just soaking it all into my mind and soul! I truly felt in the moment and knew this is the reason I travel; to feel just like I did on that night.

Soon the guitarist started playing some nice melodies I had never heard and then he started singing the Nepalese words that obviously went along with them. As in most sing-a-longs the guitarist possessed the only musical talent but that didn’t stop several of the other Nepalese from joining in with the words that they knew. It was great and everyone there loved it as was evident by the clapping after each song.

They had been playing Nepalese folk songs for about 20 minutes when the guitarist turned to Jesus & Susanna and asked “Where are you from? Maybe I know a song from your country.”
They said Spain and then we all racked our brains for a song from Spain that he might know. At first I thought this would be easy but I soon realized of all the Spanish songs I know NONE are actually from Spain.

(On a side note; the next day I did think of one and I asked Jesus, “Hey, what about The Macarena?”
He said, “Ugh! Yes, it is and don’t remind me. We are still embarrassed.”)
Now back to the story….

When we couldn’t think of a song, the guitarist suggested, “How about you just sing one and I’ll try to play along?”
There was a loud laugh from Susanna and a “No Way!” from Jesus.

Next he turned to me, “How about you?”
I said I was American and he smiled. “I know a lot of American music!”
I smiled and said “Me too.”
“Do you know any Eagles or Bob Dylan?”
I smiled even bigger and said “Yep, pretty much.”
Before I had my short confirmation out he was already plucking through the opening to Hotel California. When it was time to sing I knocked the obligatory taps on the wooden leg of my platform and started into verse one. When I got to the chorus I replaced “Welcome to the Hotel California” with “Welcome to the Machhapuchhre Base Camp”. The few Nepalese that understood the switch loved it and translated the joke to the rest. They all laughed and cheered. My first turn at sing-a-long night was a hit.

They went back to the Nepalese folk songs after that and I just sat back and tried to remember key words from some of the songs so I could find recordings of the ones I liked when I get back to Kathmandu. They played traditional songs that the other Nepalese sang along to with a look of reverence and then others that caused them all to laugh out loud. Ngima explained that the funny ones were new re-mixes of songs currently playing on the radio. Hip Hop played over an acoustic guitar…always fun no matter the language.

Towards the end of the session the guitarist turned my way and without saying a word started playing the un-mistakable intro to “Redemption Song”. I guess he figured it was as given that I would know it because when it was time to sing he paused for just a second and looked up at me. I stumpled through the verses and he joined me on the chorus. It fit very well with the atmosphere, despite my poor singing ability, and I noticed even the Nepalese that didn’t speak English smiling and nodding. That’s the power of Bob Marley I suppose….even when sung badly.

After MBC it was a short hike, less than 2 hours, the next day to the Annapurna Base Camp (ABC). At 4,130 meters above sea level this would be my highest point of the trek and theoretically my best mountain views. The base camp sits in a horseshoe shaped valley with most of the Annapurna peaks surrounding it.

Annapurna South 7,219m
Vara Hashikhar 7,847m
Annapurna I 8,091m
Tharpu Chuli 5,663m
Annapurna III 7,855m
Machhapuchhare 6,993m

The monsoon season here doesn’t mean just rain though; it means clouds and gray skies. This can be great for hiking on most days because it keeps the already humid conditions from being even more intense with the sun beating down on you. Those clouds are bad though when it comes to viewing mountains.

Maybe it’s my usual positive attitude but I really don’t mind the clouds. I think they just add to the beauty. Occasionally they will part or spread out and reveal a huge peak; bright white snow and jagged gray rocks. With the passing clouds just revealing them for a few minutes it makes them feel like a secret to me; unveiled just for the patient observer. The morning after arriving at ABC was just like this and I got some great views from about 6 a.m. to 7 a.m. but then the clouds moved in and the drizzling rain started up again.

One area that was visible at ABC on the morning that I arrived was the vast rocky path left behind by one of the reseeding glaciers. It blew me away! I came up over the ridge past the small cluster of guest houses and was not expecting to find the huge valley void of all vegetation running for miles up and down from the mountains. I just sat stunned on a rock overlooking the huge path. Ngima soon joined me and pointed out where the glacier used to be when he first started coming there in the early 90’s. The ice was now nowhere in sight of this point. As the peaks have become more visible now and then it’s very easy to see where the ice and glaciers have made their rapid retreats.

ABC was also a great place for meeting more people and making more friends. It is kind of a destination for most treks in this area and there are very few guest houses there so I found it to be the busiest spot of the trek thus far. Of course there was still just 7 other trekkers there with me including Jesus & Susanna but that’s about 7 more than I’m used to seeing.

I met Allen & Rowina from Scotland, who are wrapping up a 10 month world tour, and Paul and Mike from England. Paul and Mike were there acclimating to the altitude before heading to Tibet for some mountaineering. I chatted with them about my eventual mountaineering goals and they recommend some books to read.

Eventually Allen and Rowina busted out a deck of cards and the 5 of us played some Gin Rummy. It was a new game for me but with the group’s help I picked it up quick. We basically spent the afternoon and evening this way; learning and playing various card games. It rained all day so it was a nice way to pass the time.

The last noteworthy thing about my experience at ABC happened on the morning that we all left. I had risen early to view the peaks at sunrise and the clouds cooperated just a little bit. The day before I had asked Ngima about the small stone towers and monuments that dotted the grounds west of the guest house about 50 yards away. Normally I would call these collection of rocks cairns and you see them marking trails around the world but the way they dotted this area I knew there had to be another purpose for them.

He explained that they were a kind of “Stupa”. Ngima explained to me that it was a Buddhist custom to build these little houses. He said a stupa has several purposes and they come in many different shapes and sizes but one of the beliefs is that when you die your spirit can return to the stupa’s that you have built to visit. The wealthy build very elaborate ones near their homes but the poor people just build them out of stones.

Like many other Buddhist customs I really liked this idea. Even if my spirit doesn’t really visit them when I die it seemed like a nice way to take note of the special places that you visit in a lifetime. A way to look back and think of the places you have built your stupas.

The morning we left I built my first stupa on one of the boulders looking at Annupurna South. I told Ngima that maybe when my spirit comes back it won’t be as cloudy.
Ngima also took the time to build one, something he had not done before on all his other visits. When it was completed he said, “There, we neighbors.” It was a nice moment.

The full moon was 3 days ago. It is a religious holiday here and it’s supposed to mark the end of the monsoon season but this method looks about as effective as using a groundhog to predict the end of winter because it has rained the most in the 3 days following the full moon. When I told Ngima I thought his people were way off on there full moon prediction he smiled and said, “I think it was the Hindus.” Ngima is a quiet guy but quick witted. He cracks me up.
This gives you a nice look at the amount of snowfall they get here in the Winter. That's me in the middle.

Again, like the clouds, I don’t really mind the rain either. It’s not a downpour; just an occasional sprinkle. The humidity is so high, when you are hiking you are usually soaked by sweat anyway. A little drizzle of rain doesn’t matter.

I have actually found watching the clouds very entertaining. It’s different when you are at their level. When you are walking along a ridge and the fog is so think it feels like you are on the edge of the world. On other occasions I would watch clouds flowing up the valley towards me. They would be so thick and moving so fast I’d swear it was smoke from a huge fire raging down below. Your brain keeps checking with the nose for confirmation of the smell of smoke but it never comes. Soon you won’t be able to see 10 feet in front of you. Then 10 minutes later it will be clear. It’s amazing.

I guess when you are entertained by passing clouds and fog it’s pretty evident how quiet and slow this trip is. The hiking is rigorous in many parts but still very relaxing. Ngima and I only talk occasionally while hiking so there are hours that go by in silence. “Hours spent in thoughtful silence help us make the right decisions more than days and days of talking.” I learned this in Scouts and its truer now than ever.

Of course it’s not really silent ever. There are always birds chirping when walking through a forest section or the hum of insects. As we approach villages there are usually cows, chickens, or even school kids, making some noise, occasionally a dog barking. Oh, and water; always the sound of water on every step of the hike.

Our route thus far has kept us near the white waters of the Modi Khola (river) so depending on how high or low we are determines how loud it is but even if it’s far below there is always the sound of one of the many waterfalls. They come pouring out of the forest down the sides of the hills. Some are from valleys that lead up to a glacier or mountain peak; others are just run off that flows down the steep hillsides. Some fall hundreds of feet in a steady stream with a violent crash at the bottom or on cliffs on the way down. Others just cling to the rock face and the water shimmers so that it doesn’t look like it’s flowing at all. It turns the side of the hill into a shattered pane of glass. I don’t know what it is that makes a waterfall so photogenic but I find it hard to pass one by without taking a picture. I doubt it’s possible to find an ugly waterfall anywhere in the world.

The silent hikes have left me hours to think. You daydream some but you have to watch almost every step so your mind never wanders far from the moment. The trail is rarely flat. You are usually either hiking up or down and one wrong step could ruin your whole trek.

I have found many metaphors for life in hiking on this trip. Nothing ground breaking and probably just more confirmation for how I already think but it helps to pass the time…especially when climbing up for over an hour, step after step. For example:

- On a hike, as in life, most of the time is spent looking down, picking each step carefully but once in awhile you need to stop and look up at your goal…but if you stare to long at the goal you’ll never reach it, or worse you’ll stumble and possibly never reach it. It’s watching each step, and taking each step, that eventually gets you there. (It always seems to come back to balance with me.)
- The view is always better when you are breathing heavy.
- I’d rather hike uphill than downhill. (This one probably says more about my aging left knee than my personality but, without a doubt, I would rather have my leg muscles burning and sweat pouring off my face as I crawl up then look down and try to find stable footing every step and brace myself on a wobbly knee. Then again it probably does reflect my personality pretty well.

I still have another week before I get back to Kathmandu and check back in with the world. On this trek phones, e-mails, etc. aren’t an option. Hell, not all the places we stop even have mail service or electricity.

While I do miss Jillian and general e-mail conversations with friends and family I’m not in a hurry to get back. It’s an odd feeling and somewhat contradictory but its how I feel. I am finding on this trek it’s one of the rare times in my life where I don’t feel like I’m missing something else.

MJF