Clouds descend and rain sets in. The mountains are hidden from view and the waterfalls cannot be seen. We had reached Namche and our lodge just in time. As night fell, only a gray wall and the sound of rain above our heads.
Before the rain hit, we wandered the town. Ngima, acting as tour guide, took us to the towns namesake, the daily bazar. Locals were selling a variety of wares including fruits and veggies, bright red chili peppers, clanking metal housewares, plastic wrapped candy, white yeast balls for making alcohol, and yak butter weighed out with a fist-sized rock on a makeshift scale. The town itself is the largest in the Khumbu region and a designated stopping point for all trekkers for a 2 night stay to acclimatize to the altitude. The setting is especially dramatic. Streets and buildings are tiered up the hillside like a Roman amphitheater. The open end of this horseshoe shape is a steep cliff drop to a river below. A gompa sits at this opening with the large eyes of the Buddha watching over the town. It feels a bit like the wild west if you squint your eyes and shift your imagination. Namche is a crossroads of cultures and ethnicities that meet briefly then move onward. Accents of German, Italian, French, American, British, Australian can all be heard mingling with Nepali and Tibetan as we stroll. The streets are lined with souvenir shops and trekking supplies, internet stations, lodges and bars. An occasional yak browses the stalls. But the ancient stone streets are slick and the air is wet so we take our precious shower and huddle in for the night.
I wake to the sounds of crowing roosters and gray skies. The sharp mountain air is clean and cold with a touch of wood smoke. I had been dreaming of an old job which, not surprisingly, left me cranky and anxious. I was ready to set out and hike, clear my head in the fresh air, see the mountains and hope for clearing skies. After breakfast with, um, tea, we climbed the hills above Namche. Chris and I are adjusting slowly but surely to the altitude at this point. The town sits at roughly 11,000 feet. We get out of breath quickly but recover easily. Slight headache comes and goes. I have begun taking Diamox to help adjust but the reason for this day hike is to ascend then descend to become accustomed to the increasingly thinning air. We have brief glimpses of the towering peaks that surround us. A few spots of blue sky give us hope of gradual clearing. Sadly, the day is all wet and gray, however beautiful nonetheless. We climb through misty landscapes of moss covered stone—many painted with mani prayers—that feel like a set from 70’s B-grade horror films. I expect Peter Cushing to pop out from behind a boulder baring his fangs like an apparition from my imagination. We continue up among fields of scrubby juniper and small blue flowers that look like stars. Textured hillsides of color glow in the gray light. Hot reds and bright greens, neon yellows and ghostly whites among the rough gray stones. Pray flags stream and flutter overhead, radiating out from white washed gompas. High up, we find ourselves in the wind and mist of the clouds and make our way to the famous Everest View Hotel. Looking a little Frank Lloyd Wright-ish, the hotel is the highest in the world at 13,000 feet. Each room has a view of Mt. Everest. I realize that I am now higher than Mt. Hood (the local mountain in Oregon where I grew up). We stop for hot chocolate and try to dry out, but no view of Everest today. Just the blue pines with their phallic-like, erect blue cones swaying in the wet and clouds outside the window.
We arrive at the small, quiet village of Khumjung and stop for lunch with a lively bunch of French and Germans. The lodge room is warm and inviting with amber colored pine paneling and a stove cranking out heat at the rooms center. By the time we finish our meal, the rain is heavy but we move on regardless along muddy, squishy paths to the local Buddhist monastery built in the 14th century. After a bit of prompting, the cranky caretaker let us in to check it out and take a few photos. For a small donation, he opened up a metal cabinet containing a still hairy “yeti” skull. What is it really? Who knows. It looks like half a coconut with an abundance of course, brown hair— worthy of a chuckle. The room swirls with color, filled with prayer books and unlit candles, relics and robes—and, of course, the Buddha watching over it all, eyes half open in contemplation. Finally, the caretaker kicks us out. On the way, Ngima shows us the enormous prayer wheel. In a dimly lit room painted with images of the Buddha that barely fit the wheel itself, it had to be 8 feel tall.
Through relentless rain and heavy gray skies, we make our way back to Namche. Although a different route, we again amble through fields and eventually reach a designated path that descends to the stones streets of the town. On the way, we catch our first sighting of Nepal’s national bird, the Monal. Roughly the size of a turkey or pheasant, it’s feathers are largely bright blue but all colors of the rainbow that shimmer in the light. A small sprout of feathers from the top of the head reminding me of a Looney Tunes character. We arrive back at the Khangri Hotel drenched and tired, holding on to hope that the next day will clear. We finish our day with dinner. Tonight was spaghetti and corn soup. And to top it all off, a deep fried Snickers bar. As nasty as it sounds, it is incredibly delicious, although I seriously doubt I will ever do that again.
Before we settle in for the night, we stop at the shop on the street below our lodge, Sherpa Adventure Gear. Chris and I had purchased this brand of clothing in New York before we left home. As we paid for the few articles of clothing, I mentioned to the salesperson that we really liked the gear we picked up before the trip. “In Kathmandu?” he asked. “No, in New York,” I replied. “Paragon?” he asked. “Yes!” Here I was on the other side of the planet and I had to laugh. The world is just way too small at times. It just goes to show you. Home is really never that far away.
For those of you unfamiliar with Paragon, it is a popular sporting goods store in Manhattan.
View photos from this trip here.
No comments:
Post a Comment