I'm a true mountain woman now - or at least says our Sherpa, Pemba dai. We're back in Bhaktapur from our trek through Helambu, situated between the Annapurna region and the Everest region, bordering Tibet. It was so frickin groovy!!! We took a bus out of the city and into a canyon, following the Indrawati River through vast terraced rice patties sprinkled with small homes made of stacked rocks. Bright red saris hung to dry on clotheslines and goats roamed as we made our way down the incredibly muddy, narrow, topsy turvy road (essentially the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland for four hours). Despite my near nausea, I was in awe of my surroundings. It was so insanely beautiful!!! Driving along the mountains, through tiny villages, the land was enchanted by communal joy and self reliance. I felt as if I was in National Geographic! We arrived in a village called Timbu in the late afternoon and immediately went to explore some trails through a rice patty. I got sucked by a few leeches on my feet which got pretty bloody but hey I survived! We left the next morning for day one of our trek, a 5,000 ft ascent up to the village, Tarke Gyung. I was very nervous, I've never hiked such a huge elevation gain in one day, let alone with a 30 pound pack. Nonetheless, we began the hike, taking water breaks at sacred stupas covered with moss. The first hour past and I was somehow in the front pack, with the four boys and our Sherpa. My body was working hard but I felt good and strong and determined. The warrior goddess in me was coming out!! (I was also excited that the front group got the longest breaks while we waited 20 minutes for everyone else). The day continued as we climbed higher and higher above the valley. I started pulling ahead of the boys and it was soon just me and my new buddy, Pemba dai the Sherpa. We crossed rivers and logs and took small steps to minimize our energy. I was feeling so proud of myself!! Six hours later we made it to Tarke Gyung, in a cloud 9,000 ft in the sky. As we walked into the tea house, Pemba dai said, "You like to trek? You are very strong, a woman of the mountains." A Sherpa calling me strong is easily one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me. Life is awesome!!! Shortly after I decided to name my backpack "Mahadevi," meaning "Great Goddess" in Nepali.
The entire next day was spent hangin in the tea house common room, which had low benches lining three walls and a stove in the corner where Didi, or Auntie, sat making endless milk tea and dhal bhaat. There was also a German couple staying there who would play yatzee and complain about the weather. It was kind of funny. I liked them. The next day we planned to climb to the peak of Ama Yangri. The morning came and was full of rain. As soon as we reached the trails we were each covered with leeches. Despite the slimy bugs and blood we tried to keep going. We got to 12,000 ft. only 1,000 ft from the top, it was pouring, 40 degrees, and we were bleeding all over our legs and feet (leeches can squirm through your socks and pants). The instructors decided it wasn't worth continuing to the top, where it would be 10 degrees colder and potentially icy. I was extremely bummed but that's just the way it goes sometimes. I'll have plenty of opportunities to climb cool mountains later. We went back to the beloved tea house and left the next morning for Timbu.
The weather was perfect (classic) and I had a great walk down the mountain. On the side of the trail, we saw a group of Nepali men with animal parts strewn across the grass. As we approached, two men were slitting open the stomach and emptying out tons of grass. I don't really have words to describe how I felt at this point so I'll keep explaining things as they happened. The few people I was with were also interested so we stopped and talked with the men. They had decided to sacrifice their water buffalo in hopes of selling as much as they could (at most they'll make $10 profit). As we asked questions, one man picked up an ax and began to chop the skinned skull and right under the horns. He peeled back the cracked head and shimmied out the brain in one piece, apparently a delicacy. It was an overwhelming sight. I was sad for the buffalo. But I respected those men and their lifestyle and I knew the reason I was vegetarian was because of the separation of producer and consumer in America. In that moment, I was part of the production, squatting in bloody leaves with flies swarming everywhere. These men had a level of strength and self responsibility that most Americans can't even fathom. So that night I ate the buffalo's meat. Known as the replacement for cows, which are sacred, the "buff" meat was tough and tasted great. There are infinite ways to survive and thrive on Earth. The best way for me to thrive in America is to be vegetarian, but to thrive in rural Nepal, families must be grateful for the little meat they can produce. Abatiwaha, so is life.
We left early this morning to catch a public bus back to Bhaktapur. Through we were the first ones on, the bus slowly grew full beyond its capacity. I've never seen so many people crammed into one space. A few different women sat on the edge of my seat and leaned on me, while one woman simply sat her baby on my lap. Though the ride was smelly and I watched an old woman throw up out of the window in front of me for half an hour, it was oddly a lot of fun. Six hours later we arrived in Bhaktapur. Pretty shortly after I had to hop on a taxi to a clinic in Kathmandu for an allergic reaction to a mosquito bite (five days ago I got an extremely gross blister like thing on my leg about the size of a nickel). It accidentally popped today and we decided we should get it checked out before we leave for ten days to remote Nepal. We went and I got an antibiotic and ointment to clean it. It's still gross but hey it could be worse! Alrighty my friends, that's all for now. Life is groovy! Lech Lecha!
Also, I'm sorry the pictures didn't work out. It took forever so I'm really bummed but I'll work on it!
The entire next day was spent hangin in the tea house common room, which had low benches lining three walls and a stove in the corner where Didi, or Auntie, sat making endless milk tea and dhal bhaat. There was also a German couple staying there who would play yatzee and complain about the weather. It was kind of funny. I liked them. The next day we planned to climb to the peak of Ama Yangri. The morning came and was full of rain. As soon as we reached the trails we were each covered with leeches. Despite the slimy bugs and blood we tried to keep going. We got to 12,000 ft. only 1,000 ft from the top, it was pouring, 40 degrees, and we were bleeding all over our legs and feet (leeches can squirm through your socks and pants). The instructors decided it wasn't worth continuing to the top, where it would be 10 degrees colder and potentially icy. I was extremely bummed but that's just the way it goes sometimes. I'll have plenty of opportunities to climb cool mountains later. We went back to the beloved tea house and left the next morning for Timbu.
The weather was perfect (classic) and I had a great walk down the mountain. On the side of the trail, we saw a group of Nepali men with animal parts strewn across the grass. As we approached, two men were slitting open the stomach and emptying out tons of grass. I don't really have words to describe how I felt at this point so I'll keep explaining things as they happened. The few people I was with were also interested so we stopped and talked with the men. They had decided to sacrifice their water buffalo in hopes of selling as much as they could (at most they'll make $10 profit). As we asked questions, one man picked up an ax and began to chop the skinned skull and right under the horns. He peeled back the cracked head and shimmied out the brain in one piece, apparently a delicacy. It was an overwhelming sight. I was sad for the buffalo. But I respected those men and their lifestyle and I knew the reason I was vegetarian was because of the separation of producer and consumer in America. In that moment, I was part of the production, squatting in bloody leaves with flies swarming everywhere. These men had a level of strength and self responsibility that most Americans can't even fathom. So that night I ate the buffalo's meat. Known as the replacement for cows, which are sacred, the "buff" meat was tough and tasted great. There are infinite ways to survive and thrive on Earth. The best way for me to thrive in America is to be vegetarian, but to thrive in rural Nepal, families must be grateful for the little meat they can produce. Abatiwaha, so is life.
We left early this morning to catch a public bus back to Bhaktapur. Through we were the first ones on, the bus slowly grew full beyond its capacity. I've never seen so many people crammed into one space. A few different women sat on the edge of my seat and leaned on me, while one woman simply sat her baby on my lap. Though the ride was smelly and I watched an old woman throw up out of the window in front of me for half an hour, it was oddly a lot of fun. Six hours later we arrived in Bhaktapur. Pretty shortly after I had to hop on a taxi to a clinic in Kathmandu for an allergic reaction to a mosquito bite (five days ago I got an extremely gross blister like thing on my leg about the size of a nickel). It accidentally popped today and we decided we should get it checked out before we leave for ten days to remote Nepal. We went and I got an antibiotic and ointment to clean it. It's still gross but hey it could be worse! Alrighty my friends, that's all for now. Life is groovy! Lech Lecha!
Also, I'm sorry the pictures didn't work out. It took forever so I'm really bummed but I'll work on it!
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