Wednesday 27 February 2013

Trek Days 16-17: Rest in Gatlang and return to Kathmandu

It's possible to do all sorts of 'activities' in Gatlang - plant potatoes, spin wool, weave bamboo baskets, mill flour and so forth.
















Or that's the theory anyhow. After many confusing conversations, the thrust was that the only real option was to watch khukri knives being made at the foundry. Which was handy really as we really wanted the kids to take home a khukri knife each - the quintessential Nepali souvenir.
It was a fascinating three hours watching three men make the knives ($6.50 each!) amongst their existing workload of axe heads and similar. We were all fascinated and will remember that day clearly every time we look at or use those knives. They're raw, undecorated.
The conditions in the foundry were medieval. No eye protection, no masks, no shoes. Manual bellows made from yak hide (how did that young man pump those bellows for so many hours under his left arm?).




By eye, the chief blacksmith made the two blades identical to each other and to the master blade. He was an expert at work, passionate about his trade.




The handle was made from fencing wire, melted in a crucible and poured into a mould (no gloves).








The kids were a continual source of fascination, particularly from other kids.
Tom was playing hop scotch with a large audience.




We asked Sandesh to 'move them along'. The obstinate few sat from a distance as a seated audience.




The following day, Bernard joined us for the jeep ride back into Boudha. The road from Gatlang to Syabrubensi was a remarkable feat of road building and provided views up the Langtang Valley, allowing us to reminisce our entire trip. It also provided views over Gosainkund and we started planning our NEXT trek...




The landslides didn't seem so bad second time around.
Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudhanath, Nepal

Tuesday 26 February 2013

Sandesh our wonderful porter






Sandesh lost his mother when he was three to an unspecified illness. His father remarried, but died soon after, again from an unknown illness. At the age of four, he and his full brother went to live with their step-mother, her new husband and their son. It seems he and his brother were always playing second fiddle to the blood son.
Now Sandesh is married to Sarkini and has a three year old daughter, Premela. They both grew up and still live in Gatlang, a village rich in culture and tradition, much of it specific to Gatlang.




There is much intermarriage here in this settlement of 1100 people. (Our trekking agent Christophe said that there is a remarkably high rate of birth defects as a result, but we saw little evidence of this.) Working in Gatlang means milling; farming the land; gathering, dying, spinning and weaving wool; breeding oxen, chickens, yaks, goats.
His step family left the three boys some land. Whether by design or otherwise, the blood son received the better land and the family home. He is 'rich' according to Sandesh. Sandesh received land but it is apparently poor.
Two years ago Sandesh built a home (in background of picture above) for his family on his wife's grandfather's land. Her grandfather is still alive and lives metres away in a traditional home. Sandesh' home is not traditional - made of timber with a galvanised roof, it stands out in the village. Whether this is frowned on is unknown.
His blood brother married a girl from Chillime and lives on her family's land there. He went to work in Malaysia for three years and has returned sufficiently wealthy to not need to work. His children go to the government school in Syabrubesi.




Sandesh wanted to come back to Kathmandu with us, to find some seasonal work. After a conversation with his family, he was to remain in Gatlang to plant potatoes. Apparently he is a porter 3 or 4 times per season; whether this means per year, or for each of the two annual trekking seasons, was unclear.
He recently purchased an ox and a cow, who has a calf. Apparently a cow costs 10,000 rupees (approx $120), a yak three times that amount (they give wool and milk and can carry heavy loads in addition to working in the fields, and (we think) live longer. They keep the livestock under the grandfather's house, but there is no place for chickens (1000 rupees each).




We assume the tip from a trekking party can make all the difference to someone like Sandesh. He earns $10 a day for being a porter, the tip is at a trekkers discretion. We were able to leave some of our belongings with him in addition to a tip. We hope this all helps a very special person who we miss very much.
Just as we were confronted to see how he lives, no doubt he is confronted by how we live. The changes we observed included: the demonstration of love to our children; the assessment of risk generally, but especially regarding our children; personal hygiene including laundering of clothes (we would handwash our undies and socks as required and, once or twice, our travel shirts - Sandesh remained in the same clothes for sixteen days, indeed continued to wear the same clothing even after returning to his home. After a while, we noticed he began to wash his socks occasionally, but never with soap, so to no benefit). Despite language barriers, he managed to communicate that he thought our demonstration of love for our children was a good thing, and that a monogamous marriage was also "better" (apparently a Nepali woman often takes a lover in addition to a husband - he implied this was the case for him, and he was not happy about that).
Sandesh was made welcome in our family from the very beginning, we made an effort to learn his language (he speaks Nepali and Tamang) and he fitted in wonderfully. We missed him greatly, think of him often, and would seek him out again for further treks.




Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudhanath, Nepal

Monday 25 February 2013

Trek Day 15: Thambuchet 1862m to Gatlang 2330m

Drizzle embraced us as we set off on the last day of our trek. The trail wove through brown patchwork fields, stepping up gently along the valley floor, separated by grey stone walls. The kids bounced along in front for the first hour, as the trail zig zagged 500m up to a corner giving views back to Thambuchet and forward to Gatlang.




The second - and thankfully last - hour was along a muddy 'half road' and was emotionally punishing. Why is it that the last day of any multi-day walk (or last hour of a day walk) never goes fast enough?
Heads down, let's get on with it.




When we arrived in Gatlang, we took one look at Sandesh's wife's grandfather's home stay and couldn't do it. We knew Sandesh would be offended, but this 'homestay' was nothing more than two small rooms, pitch black, with filthy mattresses on the floor. Other than the pitch rooms, there was nowhere to escape from the thronging audience.




Meeting Sarkini and Premela and seeing Sandesh's home was a highlight of the trip. As we drank tea, a local crazy woman ruined the experience (especially for the kids), by shoving her face through the window and breathing like the Dementor (Harry Potter). Another reason to hideout in Gatlang Guest House instead of the 'home stay'.




Sandesh promised us local food for lunch, and we got it. Boiled potatoes :-) Authentically sprouting and soft, but mercifully shy of being green, we dipped them in a fabulous but fiery spice from local trees.
After the initial disappointment, Sandesh happily took us up to the Gatlang Guest House (best food on the trek?) where we watched many people thronging to a wedding between a Gonggang girl and a Gatlang man. The women were dressed in their finery, many walking from Tatopani and
Gonggang.








Three French girls and a Frenchman Bernard provided some very welcome company after so many evenings spent alone on the Tamang Trail.
Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudhanath, Nepal

Sunday 24 February 2013

Trek Day 14: Tatopani 2602m to Thambuchet 1762m

The Tatopani Experience didn't improve overnight. The new house party revelers came back into town in the middle of the night, much worse for raksi, and barking dogs were at full throttle. (Every night a barking dog keeps us awake. "Sandesh, did that dog keep you awake?" "What dog?" The Nepalis just don't hear them.) Turns out the host family at Pilgrims sleeps in the loft above the guest rooms. Above our ceiling with 1cm gaps between the boards. And they turn in, loudly, at 1am or thereabouts.
So it was with great pleasure that we woke them up with much stomping and a loud Namaste or two, at 7am. The host was further side tracked by the Tatopani Tupperware party. OK, not Tupperware exactly, but the traveling pots and pan man was in town.




Happy to walk away from Tatopani and the dirtiest table cloths and cutlery on the Tamang Trail, we descended slowly down to Gonggang where we revived our flagging spirits with a dhal bhat at an unexpected, refreshingly clean and extremely friendly lodge.








A steeper descent took us all too quickly away from the mountains and down into a valley of roadwork and agriculture and the unpromising-looking village of Chillime. Scenes of oxen ploughing with timber and hand wrought iron plough shares, women planting potatoes with babies strapped to their backs, perhaps resting to breast feed.




The last of the new home party revelers walking home to Tatopani, stocked up with supplies carried in the traditional basket supported by the head.
The only reason we agreed to go to Chillime was because Sandesh's older brother lived there with his family and we were really keen to him. Otherwise it looked like a good place to miss. How wrong we were! Walking through the unique welcome gate took us into the most intact hamlet so far. Old women with giant silver earrings; a bevy of children following us; nervous Namastes; spinning and weaving on ages old timber frames.




We took tea with his brother and family before heading down to Thambuchet for the night.




Rosie chose the lodge, a cute blue one which took for ever to serve food. We played catch with the hackysack, with the usual audience watching.
Helen is totally over the dirt of teahouses in Nepal and wants to get outta here!
Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudhanath, Nepal

Saturday 23 February 2013

Trek Day 13: Over Nagthali 3150m to Tatopani 2607m

Another 800m push up and over the Tamang Trail's viewpoint, Nagthali, supported with a pony in case Rosie found the going too strenuous with asthma. In the end, she was just fine, and Tom had more time on top because he loved the excitement of riding a pony that leapt up stairs and kicked when you tried to get on. And sometimes off.




This was one of the most glorious day of walking. Not just the viewpoint, but the ascent was richly forested, with cool fresh air and enough snow to make it fun (40cm in places) - and sometimes very tiring.




The view back over Lantang II (the obvious peak at over 7000m) and Tibet.




Up top, the guest houses were closed (as expected for low season) so it was gloriously silent.




We sucked in the views of the Ganesh Himal...




...and Tibet, Langtang and the Gosainkund ridge ...




...before stringing up our prayer flags to flutter their prayers on the wind.




We are never more in awe of the earth than when we are in the Himalaya. It has lost none of its magic for us.
Leaving the summit Helen was pulled from quiet reflection and sensory immersion as Rosie started to suffer some minor asthma. We weren't concerned as we knew a rapid descent to Brimdang would reduce her symtoms quickly. We took black tea at the collection of 3 or 4 homes and steered clear of a grumpy grey yak. And received the driest lhosar bread of the trip!




The gentler descent to Tatopani was quite warm and unpleasant. We were all tired and couldn't wait to get there. Turned out the village was deserted as everyone had gone down the mountain to a new home party, leaving only the socially undesirable behind to take in trekkers. Only two lodges out of perhaps 12 were open, we took the best of the bad options at Pilgrims. Some dirty snotty kid nicked our playing cards when our backs were turned. We knew who it was but the Little Shit wouldn't admit it. Credit where it's due, the host was determined her honour wouldn't be compromised and had the cards returned.




At the hot springs (red due to high iron levels, not mud) another Little Shit jumped in to have a feel of Tom's pearly white skin; understandable, but when he climbed on Rosie's back we gave him clear orders to go away.




We really didn't like this place. Interestingly it was the only place on the trail entirely built around tourists (Nepali tourists have been coming here to the hot springs for eons), and not around true community. The difference was marked.
We met two nutters on the trail: a Nepali mountain biker carrying his bike ON HIS HELMET with nothing but Lycra and bike shoes, thinking he was going to make it to Briddhm (oversnow) within two hours. Seriously, he had a lot of snow and steps and mud ahead of him - this is so NOT cycling territory. Sandesh just raised his eyebrows and intimated that stupid rich Nepalis such as this dude were often caught out in the mountains..




The other nutter was an old dude high up in a tree, unsecured, lopping branches, and yelling "woo hoo!"








Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudhanath, Nepal

Thursday 21 February 2013

Trek Days 11 & 12: Timure to Thuman 2340m, via Lingling 1600m

Happy to avoid more road walking, Shane organized for a local workman to drive us up for a look at the Tibetan border, then back down the road to the Lingling bridge for the 'zigzag path of exhaustion' - Sandesh advised the shortcut was 'good', better than going via Dalphedi.
At the border we surreptitiously took some photos. There was the remains of fortifications from a war with China from 60 years ago.




And obscenely large underutilised buildings on the Chinese side.




And, strangely enough, no security folk to be seen.
We started the walk over a long suspension bridge.




Rosie led the way, Tom relaying her decisions to climb, rest etc with a pine signaling device.




Every now and again we would look down in disbelief of our climb.








The reward was a magnificent mani wall. A mani wall has stones inscribed with Om mani padme om; some people say that a stone is added as somebody dies.




We found one stone where people sharpen their knives hoping for a lucky hunt.




We were excited to find a family room in the Buddha Guest House - previously we have been one parent one child in each of two rooms - not ideal (Rosie doesn't like to sleep without a parent in the room).




Thuman was the most exceptionally intact village so far, it felt like stepping back 600 years. Every house was almost identical: cows or other livestock downstairs, two-roomed house upstairs accessed by a steep timber ladder, a single decoratively carved window frame, a stone slab roof.












Up at the 1000 year old Gompa, a ceremony - of course - was at full throttle. This one, from 9am to 5pm, celebrated the release of the spirits of the villagers who had died in the previous year. In the front room the women joined to chant Om mani padme om incessantly (and unrecognisably!).




When Shane and I went in on our own, we were of some interest; when the kids came with us later, they ALL stopped mid chant to look, smile, laugh, stare and respond warmly to the kids' "namaste".
Inside, the lamas played music (horns, conch, big and small drums, cymbals) and recited prayers.




When they took a break for dhal bhat, they were happy to chat with us, making us very welcome. We were all transfixed.
Enchanted, we spent a rest day in Thuman.




We played catch with the local kids and organized a pony to come up to Nagthali with us tomorrow to make the ascent to 3150m as easy as possible for Rosie.
Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom

Location:Boudha Main Road,,Nepal