Warm in Pheriche

I am now toasty warm, sitting next to a wood stove in the dining room of the Himalaya Hotel in Pheriche.  We are across the street from the Himalayan Rescue Association clinic, which we will visit tomorrow- and where I will drop off some airway supplies that the porters have toted thus far.

Right now, we are showered and warm- and looking forward to another "rest" day tomorrow.  At 13,800 ft, most of us are feeling some altitude- from headaches to breathing to sleep.  For some reason, we are still eating well- but the food has been much better than expected.  Noodle dishes and Rara soup (ramen), boiled vegetables, other soups, fried potatoes...carb loading is not a problem.  I've actually been eating boiled eggs each morning- a new concept for me-and even tried them for dinner.  Now that was not a good idea!  There was a different cook for dinner last night, and the eggs were so soft-boiled that my stomach rolled.  One of my goals here in the mountains is to avoid the "BR"s (bowel rumbles) for as long as possible.  I came close last night.  Breakfast has been great- porridge, omelets, french toast, apple pancakes.  Really much better than I'd hoped.

I had a bit more sleep last night- a couple of hours due to Ambien, but some actually on my own- and my brain seems to be functioning a bit better. (I did not, however, have the sleep of Renee- who spent quality time with George Clooney.) There has been so much to say here, but usually I'm so tired that I forget half of what I'd intended to mention.  Whether it's age, altitude, or Alzheimer's.. I've left some gaps:

1) The "Kathryn"- dropping any item into the squat toilets...for Kathryn, it was her sunglasses on the second day on the trail. Ew.

2) One of the rules of the trail:  No photos below the knee- for we are sporting too much "euro-trou" ( rolled up pant legs and pushed down thick socks.  Real sexy.)

3) Renee : "Life is about suffering"

4)  Another ROTT (rule of the trail):  Stay left.  As we pass chortens and mani walls, some of which are fairly subtle, stay left for good Karma.  Luckily for me, since I'm usually in the back of the team, Naga and Phura are helpful in keeping on the right (or left, in this case!) path.

5)  Cialis:  For me, a great thing. I've been able to breathe deeply and sigh and yawn without difficulty.  Unlike when I was in Ecuador- and that's a wonderful thing.

6) Electrical Showers:  In our tea house in Deboche (the previous two nights), the shower has an electrical box within the spray range of the shower. Good thing the box has a sign on it which reads, "Do Not Touch"!

7) Beware the Yak:  Linden was gored by a yak yesterday (minor abrasion), my German friend was rock-struck, and I had a near miss today as a yak took a sharp right turn toward me and missed me by a few inches- thanks to quick-thinking Uberoj who hit him with a stick to divert him. 

 I'm sure there are more... but for later...

These tea houses vary in their accommodations.  The Himalaya Hotel, where we currently are, has laundry service, hot showers (although in a questionable room), satellite tv, and wifi (although slow). Walls, however, are plywood thin.  So thin that last night, I called John from the room while Corell was sleeping, only to realize, after she tossed and turned a bit, that the snoring was coming through the wall on the other side of her! Ah, but life is good.

We had a great hike today- out of Deboche and up and down  toward Pangboche.  I tried to keep my heart rate below 140, and Renee joined the "heart rate study" and wore a monitor as well.  When she was 105, I was 130; when she was ~125 on hills, I was 145-150.  More data that shows how messed up I am!  At least I can now use the data and walk/climb at a pace where my heart rate stays below 145- or at least I can continue to do so.

We ended the morning in Pangboche, at the home of Lama Geshe- one of the two High Lamas in the Khumbu valley.  He has been in Pangboche for 42 years, 9 years before that at Tengboche, and has been a monk for much longer.  He is the one with whom all climbers visit and from whom all climbers ask for a blessing as they climb on Everest.  We wrapped our "donation" in scarves, and then lined up before Lama Geshe in his home.  He prayed over each of us, unwrapping the scarves, dropping the money beside him, then placing scarves around our necks.  He then continued praying for us and tied a red cord around our necks, and then pulled us toward him so that our foreheads touched.  He was a lovely man, laughing so freely and easily that we smiled along with him. His wife served us mint tea, and he held a long conversation with one of our Sherpa guides, Naga, who is a monk and spent 9 years at a monastery in India- a monastery of the same sect of Tibetan Buddhism as Lama Geshe.  Lama also gave Linden a signed card - as a reminder of his Everest summit last year?- and then he performed a blessing service over Yubaraj and Phura.  He gave them talismans, and blessed their backs, hearts, and legs.  Then he picked up a nearby urn with a peacock spout and a tail feather top, and sprinkled them with ?water?oil? They also received cards for the summit ( as a way to thank the mountain god), and then he sprinkled them, and all of us, with white rice.  All with incense burning at his feet.  Lots of similarity to Catholic ritual!  The ritual obviously meant a great deal to all three of our guides, and it was special to witness.

After Lama's house, we hiked for another couple of hours, then had a snack at a teahouse on the top of a ridge where two young children delighted us.  The trail followed the cliff wall, and at times I made certain to stay as far left as possible to avoid any possibility of an errant fall down the cliff! After a push up the last hill, we rounded a bend, and fought the wind down the ridge into the village of Pheriche.  We arrived around 3- and immediately headed up to the brand new sunroom at the hotel, and basked in the warmth while we waited for some food to be brought up.  That sunroom is wonderful- we are looking forward to a little time there tomorrow afternoon!

Our lenten meditation today was apt -especially for me as I struggle with so many things-but it rang so true for Corell and me:

"Surrender is for the mature.  That is less true of us during the first half of our lives, for we are still building, but it becomes the deepest truth of the second half of life.  After 40, understood religiously, life is not about claiming worthiness, or about building things, especially our own egos, but about getting in touch with helplessness.

Age brings us physically to our knees and more and more everything we have so painstakingly built up begins to mean less and less. That is the order of things.  Salvation is not about great achievements, but about a great embrace.  All we have to do is surrender."- Ronald Rolheiser

I'll close with a prayer from Lama Geshe:


"A request to all sentient beings on this planet...


Give up all intentions to harm others from your heart
And do your best to benefit them all.
If each and everyone feels the universal responsibility to do so,
We will all enjoy the feast of peace!"

The "Angel" of Ama Dablam

Tuesday, 20 March

After a great meal last night, I spent a few hours crawling through the phone lines trying to upload photos...and not yet with much success.  It is amazing how much patience this retro-communication requires- I am so used to the speed of the internet.

Today was a "true" rest day...we ate breakfast at 7, but then didn't set out for the day until 9 AM.  We went a bit further down the trail into the village of Deboche to visit a Buddhist nunnery (gompa).  Behind the front door there is a central courtyard flanked to the left by a large prayer wheel, to the back by the sanctuary, and to the right by the kitchens.  I walked around the prayer wheel, then joined the others as we took off our shoes in order to enter the sanctuary.  Brightly colored paintings of Buddhist gods and goddesses covered the walls, and embroidered silk/satin panels hung from the ceiling.  There were rows of prayer pots and padded benches on which to pray.  In the corner was a small altar, with several icons within glass cages. The ornate room is rather a surprise in comparison to the rustic village- a hidden jewel.  In the kitchen a couple of nuns were cooking and churning butter, and,  thanks to Phura and his trail lessons in  Sherpa/Nepali, I was able to ask them for a photo.

After the nunnery, we retraced our steps back up past the teahouse in which we spent the night, and then ascended back up the hill to the Tengboche monastery.  I ended up being first in line up the hill, I think as a sort of trial to see if there was any way I could stay with the team. I went as fast as I could, and tried to keep my heart rate around 145 bpm.  After about twenty-six minutes, we reached the top of the hill, and the Tengboche monastery.  And what a view! Mountains in all directions...  We continued up the ridge past the monastery to gain a wee bit more altitude than we'd been, all in preparation for our hike to Pheriche tomorrow.  (For me, it was just a joy to leave the bags "blown out" (as Linden says) and to not have to worry about squeezing everything in.)  Sun-lovers all, we hung out at the chorten on the ridge, basking in the mountain sun.  After a while, we headed back down to the monastery, and took up residence at the Tengboche bakery.  Our plan was to hang out there until the afternoon prayers at 3pm.  We ate and read and chatted and...shopped... as an adjacent building housed the small but aptly named "This Is My Shop!"
We have definitely raised the GNP in the Khumbu valley.

It's nice to be needed, and today, I was able to help a 75 yo German trekker with a small head wound.  Seems that while he was on the trail, an errant rock (thrown by a yak-herder- presumably at a yak) found its mark on the back of his skull. Fortunately, my new friend "Friedreich" was wearing a hat, and that saved him a nastier wound.  So, using RMI's medical kit, I tended to his wound.  He was very sweet, even after the orange dye job I gave him with the betadine!  After going through some routine wound care advice, and cautioning him against gaining elevation for a day or two just in case he had subclinical brain trauma, he thanked me profusely and very elegantly. We took photos outside with the mountains beyond, and he called me his "Angel of Ama Dablam." Love that!  He even stopped by the bakery a while later to thank me again.
Like I said, it's a blessing to be able to help someone.

We waited a couple more hours for the monastery prayer time- and we were pretty chilled by then as  the crowds had rolled in. Some other trekking groups stopped to chat with us, sharing their horror stories of the upper Khumbu weather.  One Irish trekker told us, as if he hadn't previously known, that " Everest Base Camp is on a glacier, so it's cold, eh?..."  Probably a rather large understatement-appropriate for an Irishman.We waited in the courtyard until we heard the blowing of the horn (signalling the commencement of prayers) and then, after removing our shoes, we entered the sanctuary.  Considering the number of trekkers passing through, I am surprised that the funky-feet-cloud wasn't more potent.  But it was still bad.  The interior of the sanctuary held a ~20 ft high statue of Buddha on an altar-and perhaps ten long benches piled with blankets on which the monks sit and pray. We sat along the perimeter of the room as the prayers began.  What amazed me was how the monks all seemed to be chanting different prayers, yet they ended precisely on time- like a jazz band.  It was funny to watch Linden's face as the three (!) monks who were praying got up and left after only about 15 minutes.  Linden and Jeff had told us that prayers often last for hours...but not today! Turns out the Lama from Tengboche is down in Namche Bazaar doing a puja ceremony, and the monks are all on vacation.  Apparently, so are the nuns from the nunnery we visited this am. ( I do not know if they vacation together!)

Returning to the tea house, Corell and I surveyed our room explosion, and decided to pack it all up...later.
This tea house houses the sleeping rooms on the lower floor, and the kitchen and "dinning room" on the upper level.  Last night the dinning room was warmed by the central wood stove, but today, not so much.  My fingers have clamped down as I type this.  Physically, some of us are starting to feel the altitude with slight headaches, and some of us are beginning to have a bit of GI upset.  So far, all mild, so that is great news.  I've been enjoying the benefits of Cialis...as it helps open up my pulmonary vasculature so that I can breathe better. Tomorrow, we head to 14,000 feet, so keep your fingers crossed for all of us!
Love to all back home, and, now,
Ramro Sanga Sutnos!

Deboche

Monday, March 19

During an all-too-brief phone call with John this morning, I learned that my dear friend Tara has died. She had been battling stage 4 breast cancer for 5 1/2 years, and she left behind her 4 girls and her husband Kevin. Although I knew that she was fading these past few weeks, her death has still hit me hard.  I wish I could be back home to give her daughters and Kevin hugs, and to share with them some of the stories I have of Tara.  Corell knew her as well, and we said a brief prayer outside in the cold, while others prepared to depart Namche.

It was a difficult morning for me, thinking of Tara, trying to breathe, trying to keep a pace.  Fortunately, the day was beyond gorgeous, and the morning hike was along a trail high above the river.  It was a busy day, and we must have hit Khumbu rush hour, because we were often clinging to the upside of the trail as the dzopkyos and yaks lumbered by.  I asked Phura about all the village names ending in "-buche", and he informed me that the ending "-che"' means "footprint", so therefore all the villages ending with "-che" are places where Lama Sangwa Dorje traveled. What an amazing place this is! All morning long we had views up the Khumbu valley, and they were spectacular.  Walking along these trails with Everest, Lhotse, and Ama Dablam (among others) guiding our way was magical.  I often stopped and looked back- something I don't do a lot of on the trail, and I think I need to.  I'd walk for a while, cameras at the ready, snapping away, and then turn around and my soul would soar. It is just so phenomenally beautiful here. And there has to be a better word, but I can't seem to think of one.  We began our day with a glorious, majestic peacock on the side of the road, and peacocks are, aptly, the national bird of Nepal.  Majestic bird, majestic land.  And glorious. And spectacular. We passed through more pine forests, and the shade within was most welcome as the heat of the day was also impressive.  As we passed by a tree nursery, Linden explained that there is a significant problem with deforestation here in the Khumbu as the population has increased.  Juniper is an integral part of the puja ceremonies and because of its importance, it has been raked from the countryside.

After a delicious lunch down by the river- egg and vegetable fried noodles for me!- we began our ascent up the mountain to the Tengboche monastery.  It was an arduous hike- a gazillion switchbacks- and reaching the top was a blessing.  The Tengboche monastery is the largest monastery in Nepal, but not the oldest.  There is an beautifully colored ornate entrance gate to the monastery, but we didn't enter. That'd be tomorrow's treat- afternoon prayers.  We did stop for a break at the bakery- where we enjoyed the apple pie.  (Mine is still better!)

I ended the hike with Renee- both of us singing "Amazing Grace" as we walked into Deboche. A hot shower, a hot meal, the internet, and now, hopefully again, "Ramro sanga sutnos"!

(Photos to follow...)

"Rest" day...

Sunday, 18 March

Well, so much for Ambien land...Corell and I both took pills last night, but our sleep was minimal.  The interesting part is that we were not that beat during the day.  I've had such little sleep that the past couple of days have been trying.  On re-reading my post from yesterday, I realized how exhausted and down I was. Perhaps sleep, or rather, no sleep, had something to do with my mind set. (I actually had to amend the blog because in my stupor I'd forgotten to add a poem that John had emailed.)  Corell and I are so frustrated that we have each contemplated taking from the other's Ambien stash- thinking that our own must have been a bad batch! And so, we are having a "competition" to see who gets the most sleep...and there are many "nanny nanny boo boo"s flying in the mornings.  I think Corell is winning...

We have also been reading daily devotionals, as this is Lent.  It helps to keep our minds on higher things while we challenge our bodies here on earth.  It's great to have Corell as a room/tent-mate, because while we can laugh at so many things, we also share a penchant for deeper thought, even if only for a few moments.

Upon awakening this AM, I was reminded again how much I love my sleeping bag!  As our Seal Team leader John McGuire says, "There is no such thing as bad weather- just bad gear." And I'll concur. We are so thrilled when our -40 degree bags keep us warm- and then we realize that we need them to keep us warm if the temps are down around zero...or maybe even below??? Brrrr.  Still, it's great to be warm for the moment!

Today was a "rest" day- which means that we won't move up to a higher elevation.  Instead, we took a hike out of town.  Linden has been writing a wonderful blog, filled with imagery, and I simply cannot "compete" with it, so please check it out!  (The RMI blog link is to the right...)  We climbed up out of town, and a couple of hours later we reached the Japanese-built Everest View Hotel, hidden in the trees.  It was a gorgeous day, with blue skies, warm temps, and a spectacular view of Everest, Ama Dablam, and the upper Khumbu. So, we lingered over tea on the back terrace of the hotel.  It was certainly a photo op, and Laura, with one of her frequent quick and clever comments, said, "We look like an advertisement for overpriced sportswear!"  She is another team member who keeps us laughing. 

After our lounge-in-the-sun-time, we headed back down the mountain to a nearby town of Khumjung, where we had hoped to visit the Sir Edmund Hillary School. The School was closed for exams, but some kids were still hanging around.  I had been walking with Naga and Phuru, two of our guides, and our conversation quickly turned to Buddhism. I learned that the five colors of the prayer flags have meaning. Yellow- skin, green-earth, red-blood, white-heart, blue-sky.  Naga and Phuru told me that this is also seen as the pathway to nirvana- from the external skin and earth to the internal blood and heart, to the spiritual, other-worldly sky.  They also gave me a new insight into the architecture of the chortens (or stupas, in Nepali).  The terraced plinths represent earth/mortality, the white dome- the life-giving force of water; the face- the spirit; the segmented spire- the 13 steps to Enlightenment, and the finial represents the sun and moon. There is just so much rich symbolism here.

After passing through the school, we climbed back up the mountain.  Along the way we saw a young boy of around four doing cartwheels on the side of a hill.  He was adorable, so I asked him in Nepali if I could take a photo. He said yes, so I tried to capture him. I've brought numerous pens with me to give to kids as a thank-you for photos...or just simply as gifts. I gave him one. We made it back to Namche by early afternoon, and after a quick shower, we walked down into town to grab a bite to eat.  I then went to the nearest internet cafe, and jumped on.  I am still trying to post photos, but connections have been difficult.  I will try again in the AM.

Life is "athisundar"  (beautiful) here in the Khumbu, but now I am hoping, and praying!, for "Ramro sanga sutnos"  (Good Sleep!)

(Photos to follow...)

The Namche Hill

Saturday, March 17

We awoke to the golden light of early morning glancing off the nearby mountains. Our tea house, tucked away on a bend in the Dudh Kosi River, looked even more charming in the morning light.  After a quick breakfast, we started up the trail.  Today was also touted as a difficult day, because we'd end the day with the climb up the infamous Namche Hill.

The first part of the day was a lovely walk, rolling up and down along the granite stone path, through villages and past fields. We walked on beds of pine needles, and I often felt that I could be on the east coast- until a local walked by, or the porters, toting their 100+ pounds.  I was still in the rear of the pack- a position 1) I am used to; 2) where I don't slow anyone down if I stop to take a few photos; and 3)where I can have conversations and chat with the local guides who stay with me.  I have been wearing a heart rate monitor when I work out, and I brought it to Nepal so that I could essentially track my rate.  I gave my older one to Corell to wear, and we compared.  It seems that going up hill I am 30+ beats per minute higher than her- and that is problematic.  While she's barely walking, I am at max pace.  It is pretty demoralizing and I wish I could figure out why my body reacts as it does. In addition, my pulse rate necessitates my stopping to refuel every ninety minutes or so, and that is a huge drag when no one else needs to stop.  Very frustrating.

We had entered the Sagarmatha (Everest) park and stopped at a teahouse for a break just before the Namche Hill, when lo and behold, in walks Jeff!  It is just so great to see him- and he'll spend the next several days walking with us.  After the break, we crossed another bridge or two, and then tackled the huge hill into Namche Bazaar- a town which sits high above the confluence of the Dudh Kosi and another river. Over 2 1/2 hours later, we made it into Namche- just as the afternoon clouds rolled in.This hill was a bear for me- the consensus was it was similar to the Priest trail on the Appalachian trail near Wintergreen- but the altitude of ~ 11,290 ft made quite a difference. To add to the stress of the climb, I had a episode of bronchospasm (wheezing) which required an inhaler to break.  Luckily, it did, but I noticed my fingertips were slightly cyanotic.  I've never had an episode like that- only had an attack once before, and it was much milder.  While I knew what to do, it was still a bit scary because I don't know what caused it, and I certainly don't want it to happen again because I have a mountain to climb.  It was another difficult moment for me, and that begs the question about why I climb, or attempt to, when my obvious successes are few. Whether it's to push beyond my limits to see my own frailty, to find a new strength, to become a more compassionate person as I see my own struggle in others, or to see myself as a micro-organism of love in this world God created- I just can't say.  There are so many days when I cry on the trail, pushing myself so hard and yet remaining so behind, that I, too, question my sanity.  Yet I love to explore the greater questions- the who/what/why of life, and the mountains give me the opportunity to be at my most vulnerable and therefore open, I hope, to greater insight. Not to mention appreciation for the awesomeness of God's creation.  All that said, it's just so hard to not reach my goals at least some times.

While I've said many times that I am so much more about the journey than the summit, I'd still prefer to be up with the rest of the team.  I've spent a couple of days so far a bit behind the pack- which can feel a bit lonely- but I use the opportunity to learn from the Sherpa porters about their lives and their language.  I've been learning quite a lot, I think, and I still have a couple of weeks to go!

We entered Namche in the mid-afternoon, and climbed the steep terraces of the town to the Everest Base Camp Tea House.  A hot, or for me, cold, shower, a bit of down time and then dinner. Then bed.
Tomorrow is a "rest" day...which I believe simply means a "rest" from repacking our bags in the AM to leave for another teahouse on the trail.

I spent some time at one of the internet cafe in this picturesque town, and was able to check emails.  An email from John contained this poem from a friend's site, and it came at an opportune time:

Sometimes it's better not to go fast
There are beautiful sights to be seen when you're last
Shouldn't it be that you just try your best
And that's more important than beating the rest
Shouldn't it be looking back at the end
That you judge your own race by the help that you lend

And with that,
Shuba Ratri! (Good Night!)

(Photos to Follow...)

On The Trail!

Friday, March 16

That "blessed sleep" I mentioned in the previous post?  Well, I wasn't blessed last night. Packing and repacking, and the, for me, inevitable nervousness and performance anxiety must have caused a wakeful night.  I ended up sleeping for max two hours.  Fortunately, one of the skills I've acquired in med school, residency, and early baby years is the skill of riding the sleepless tide.  There were so many nights where I had a half an hour before rounds or the next case, where I'd head to a "call room", brush my teeth, wash my face, take out contacts, and just lie down.  And it helped.  So, last night, lying in bed, breathing deeply, thinking about oh-so-many things, I still managed to rest and feel calmness- just without the mental rest. Pretty much sucked.

We awoke, or rather, arose, at 4 AM because we had to meet downstairs at 4:45 AM. I think Lucy was the only one on board for the early call- she joins John and friends at the 5:45 AM Seal Team training in Richmond- while I lounge in, electing the sanity of the 9:30 am team. The purpose of the early call was torture- might as well begin now. Actually, the goal was to be the first ones at the airport door when it opened- think Black Friday at WalMart- and to maintain place in line when all the not-so-genteel shoving began.  We had a lot of bags to move, but with our second-place start (perhaps camping out would have given us the first berth?), lots of strong arms and backs, we moved that luggage through the requisite xray machines. As we passed through security, the "stroke-downs" were a little more friendly than usual, even though by a woman. We watched as the bags were weighed for this tiny airplane, and hoped that most of our bags made it on the same flight.

We boarded the plane...a tiny craft seating 18-20, complete with stewardess. The aisle was about 18" wide, and I wondered if she'd really offer any airborne hospitality walking up and down that micro-aisle. We'd heard a lot about this flight to Lukla- it's regarded (?promoted) as the worst flight in the world.  Great.  Several of us were quite nervous, but we took off smoothly, and soon we were watching ranges of rather large hunks of rock outside our window.  It was impressive and inspiring and just so beautiful. At one point, we passed right by a mountain, and it soared so high above the plane.  As this is generally a very bumpy flight, I tried to ignore all the whitish and semi-opaque streaks which dripped down the inside of my window-and thought that a spritz or two of Windex wouldn't be a bad item to add to the pre-flight check list.  I truly didn't want to know the source of those streaks.  Not to mention they messed with my photographs.  The flight was surprisingly smooth, except for one small Tower of Terror drop. Then the plane banked into Lukla...and we saw the cliff wall.  The plane is a STOL plane (Short Take-off and Landing)- which is a good thing because we needed that short landing. The runway at Lukla is ultra- short, and ramps upward until it dead-ends (?) at the cliff wall.  Don't know who engineered the whole thing, but flying into an airport with a huge cliff at the end of a short runway required some chutzpah. The pilots dropped us quickly down, a bit Kamikaze style, for an thankfully efficient landing.  We were down. And yes, the flight attendant did navigate the aisle with cotton balls to deaden the noise, and mints. I still think Windex was in order.

While we waited for subsequent flights to bring the remainder of our bags, we ate our breakfast boxes from the Yak and Yeti in Kathmandu, wandered around Lukla purchasing some yak milk soap and other souvenirs.  (Perhaps an airbag?) Laura contemplated purchasing blue v. green earrings, and Renee, true to her witty self, decided that "This is not a trek, it's a Fashion Expedition!" Too funny. Lucy took an errant turn, and wandered around Lukla looking for home...but finally made it back to us. We ate delicious apple strudel, a Lukla tradition, at the German bakery, and met the porters for our trek.  We had all somehow believed that there were yaks on the trail, and there are, but only for loads going all the way to Everest Base Camp. The rest of the bags are carried by porters.  Not sure why there's an increased weight limit here.  Alas, it seems my career as a Yak-ess is over before it has begun. There seemed to be a bit of discussion over the heavy bags, but Linden assured me that a load is a load, and we are helping the local economy!

Mid-morning we geared up and started walking.  More than once we noticed the great void-the absence of the noise of Kathmandu. In its place were yak bells on the cow/yak hybrids called dzopkyo as they barreled by us, the laughter and playfulness of the children we saw, and the chatter of our team.    We passed small villages and numerous dzopkyo trains- which I've dubbed the "Khumbu trains." Upon seeing some of these beasts of burdens, we marveled at the strap which ran under their tails- a strap which Lucy refers to as the "thong from hell".  And that is, indeed, what it looks like. All along the footpaths that link the villages are chortens (Sherpa)/Stupa(Tibetan/Buddhist)- small white temples in similar structure, though more rustic, to the temples we saw in Kathmandu, chotra -prayer poles flying white prayer flags, and mani stones- huge carved rocks, and prayer wheels. All are covered in "Om Mani Padmi Hum," and we passed them in the traditional fashion- clockwise. Along the way, we stopped for lunch at a tea house where we were entertained as Renee modeled some of the many forms of wearing a Buff. She wrapped, unwrapped, shook her hair, and re-wrapped. She finished up with the Jackie O version.-she was quite impressive! A highlight of the trail today were the swinging bridges over the Dudh Kosi and it's tributaries.  Walking across these bridges was incredible, for the views up and down valley from the middle were gorgeous. And they did swing. I realized that the technique for walking across them, for me, was like riding a "ski bounce" at the end of the turn. Loose knees and a wider stance. We just made sure to let the Khumbu trains have the right of way.  It was a remarkable day. Everywhere were huge mountains, yet they were among the least in the Himalayas. We had begun the trek at about 9200ft in Lukla, and we descended ~500 ft along the trails to the Dudh Kosi River and Phakding for the night.

Our tea house- "Joe's"- sits on the banks of the "Milk River", and the milky blue color of the water underscores it's name.Our room opened had a view onto the river, and all rooms had an ensuite bath.  We were fortunate to grab showers in our unheated rooms before meeting for dinner.  And then, bed. This time, in sleeping bags.  Not a bad way to spend a day.

(Photos to follow...)

"A Loaf of Meat Between Two Tigers"

Thursday, March 15

This morning I awoke after only sleeping a few hours.  Our elevation is only about 4800 ft, so I doubt my wakefulness was due to altitude.  Linden held a team meeting in the morning, and he did his usual thorough and amazing job of filling us in on the trek/climb, running through gear, details, and concerns.  He also spent not a little bit of time keeping us on track.  That might be one of the cons of guiding a group of people you know...we perhaps ask more questions and interject more thoughts and concerns than an unknown clientele would.  Luckily, Linden knows how to rein us in rather diplomatically.

We then spent the rest of the morning during gear check...a process in which Linden comes to each room, where all our gear is laid out in piles, and proceeds to render advice about options as well as to occasionally nix a piece of gear.  We tend to laugh about all this, because some of us get so cold, that the idea of paring down layers gives us chills just at the thought.  That said, I did follow his advice on several items...just didn't follow all of his suggestions. On Kilimanjaro, I carried...whoops, the porters carried...two bags because I had extra photo equipment, batteries, and a small amount of medical supplies.  This time, I maxed out three bags- although one is medical. At any rate, I still don't like to be categorized as a "heavy packer"- it's somehow demoralizing on this adventure trip!

Packing selections completed, we gathered again for a Kathmandu city tour.  Our guide was Kiroj- a sociologist-in-training whose mother is Hindi and whose father is Buddhist.  He was an awesome guide as we leap-frogged the city, visiting a few religious sites.  The first site we visited was  Pashupatinath, a holy Hindu site along the banks of the Bagmati river at the edge of  the city limits.  This is a holy cremation site, and many journey long distances to cremate their deceased here.  There are perhaps 10-12 rectangular cremation ghats (pedestals) in front of the temple (Hindi access only) along the west bank of the river, which was refuse-filled and semi-stagnant.  North of the main footbridge crossing the river are the ghats reserved for the royalty, and people ritually bathe in the river in front of these ghats.  To the south of the footbridge are the ghats for the common people. There is a hospice adjacent to the temple, overlooking several of the pyres- a very real look at death for the patients within. This site was so filthy, yet so holy- such was the dichotomy of reaction I experienced.  Funeral pyres were laid on a few, and fires were burning on several, all with very little ceremony.  Much like a mortuary, families pay to have their deceased loved ones laid to rest in eternal flames- and the remains are then tossed into the Bagmati.   The concern for disease staggered me.  When the monsoons come during June- August, however, the river is "flushed" out...

Kiroj informed us about many basic tenets of the Hindi faith...the three primary gods- the Hindu "trinity"- of Brahma as the creator, Vishnu as the preserver, the builder of wealth/prosperity, and Shiva, the destroyer.  He talked of the meditation word "aum"...where "a" represents air/ether (Brahma), "u" represents water (Vishnu), and "m" represents fire (Shiva).  We walked amid many shrines and memorials- and I couldn't help but be fascinated by the lingam (icon) for Shiva which was within many chaityas (small stupas).  The base is shaped like a bordered, straightened comma, with the end of the point opening up to the air.  Centered on top is a phallic cylinder. The base represented the uterus and vagina...and the upper symbol, most obviously, the male counterpart- representing the creative powers of Shiva.  Fascinating.

After Pashupatinath, we crossed town to a Buddhist pilgrimage site- the Boudhanath temple. Huge and white, the monument/temple consists of a huge white dome on a terraced base, surmounted by a capped spire.    The earliest stupas were domed mounds which were built to contain relics of Buddha.  These evolved into more complex structures with rich Buddhist symbolism.  Each stupa is built upon a terraced plinth- sometimes a few levels high- which represents the earth.  The annually whitewashed dome represents a pot- to contain water.  On top of the dome is a square segment, usually painted with Buddha's all-seeing eyes on each side.  Buddha's nose is a figured "9" which is a stylized Nepali ek (1) signifying the singular character- that out of emptiness comes compassion. On the forehead is a mark signifying Buddha's sixth sense, and insight. Above this face is a tapering spire with 13 levels, representing the 13 stages of perfection on the way to nirvana.  The spire is topped by a cupola representing an umbrella, and then a pinnacle festooned with yellow, green, red, white and blue prayer flags.  All along the base is a covered alcove filled with prayer wheels...all embossed with "Om Mani Padme Hum"- which means "All Hail the Jewel of the Lotus"- and a phrase used as a mantra as the faithful circumambulate the stupa, clockwise (to capture spiritual energy), turning the wheels as they pass. I couldn't help but turn many of the wheels, praying for peace. (Unfortunately, I didn't know at the time that turning the wheels 3000 times will prevent and cure mountain sickness- ? few days of acclimatization? Guess I goofed.)The architecture also represents the five elements: the base- earth; the dome-water; the spire- fire; the umbrella- air; the pinnacle- ether.  Fascinating.

From Boudhanath, we traveled to our third UNESCO heritage site- the Swayambhunath temple, better known as the Monkey temple because of all the...monkeys... who cavort around.  On the tour bus, you can imagine the numerous questions I asked of Kiroj.  He was most patient with me, and told us a bit more about Kathmandu and Nepal. Nepal is now a constitutional republic, with a transitional government.  Before 2001, it was a royal monarchy, until, supposedly, the second-in-line son staged a massacre of the rest of the family, but spared his own.  He ruled for 4 months in 2001 before the people revolted, led by the Maoists.  Today, as the "loaf of meat between two tigers" (China and India), the Maoists are still the controlling party, and the temporary constitution has been in effect since 2005-2006. The current leaders' terms have been extended for a year, hopefully to aid in forming a finalized constitution. Because of the political change, many people have flooded into Kathmandu.  A city that held 1.5 million people 5 years ago now holds 4 million.  Talk about exponential growth.  And very limited infrastructure. Again, I thought of all the disease.  Upon my comment re disease, Kiroj's response was, "Give us time."

Swayambhunath lies atop a holy hill, thought to have been a spontaneous eruption from the prehistoric lake which covered most of the Kathmandu region.  As we climbed the ?356 steps- a breeze, relatively, for this group of active women, we noted the golden Buddhas, murals of Buddhas birth, and statues along the way.  I, too, noticed these sites- that is, when I wasn't pressure-breathing and rest-stepping.  The story is that from this prehistoric lake, a lotus bloomed and then flamed, and now the flame is a sacred element.  The Lotus is also a sacred image, the opened leaves of the blossom are painted in gold on the dome of the Boudhanath temple.  As we reached the top, we noticed that there were many people there who arrived via the more direct route- by car- to the top. Linden later mentioned that he'd never climbed the steps before with a group, but he thought that it just might be payback for all the questions I asked, and to give Kiroj a break.  It pretty much worked- again, pressure-breathing the Dana Marie way often leaves no breath for speech. As for all those people, we witnessed a celebratory parade, complete with musicians, guests, and the lead celebrants- an elderly man and woman, dancing their way round the UNESCO fountain.  We thought that the woman had a certain arrogance in her moves, and we wondered if they were celebrating a marriage or a birth.  Again, fascinating.

After our tour, we went back to the hotel for more repacking, dinner, and blessed sleep.  Tomorrow- the harrowing flight to Lukla, and the trail begins...

(Photos to follow...)