Nepal has been a journey of extremes from the poverty and assault on the senses in Kathmandu to the human strength and capability reflected in the hearts and flesh of the Buddhist Sherpas. In Nepal we have seen the best and worst of humanity. While in Bali and Thailand we grew to understand more about Hinduism, in the Himalayas we began a journey into the Buddhist traditions. Our bodies experienced 18 days of high-altitude trekking, culminating in a breath-taking heavy-footed height of 18,200 feet. We touched greatness in the form of the two
Erics from Boulder...Eric Larsen, who
summited Everest days after we visited him at
basecamp (and now has fulfilled his lofty goal of reaching the „three poles“ in a year’s time), and Eric
Weinmyer (also an Everest
summiter), who was leading a group of disabled military veterans to the peak of
Lobuche. In our reflections on Nepal, this land of such extremes, we ponder the relevance of Buddha’s teachings of „the middle way.“
Brief History Lesson
The Kingdom of Nepal, as it was known for centuries, is a land that shares a southern border with India, and has many similarities to it's neighbor. Yet, lest we forget, Nepal was never a British colony; and to be sure, it is in a different time zone...15 minutes later than India. In Kathmandu, the capital and historically the heartbeat of Nepal, streets are filled with Hindus donning red
tiki-dotted
foreheads, brightly colored saris, and men hanging out of suffocatingly packed local buses. Scratching under the surface, though, we find that Nepal is a blending of Buddhism and Hinduism, castes and karma, prayer flags and deities. The city
stupas, including
Bod'nath near which we slept at the Dragon Guesthouse, are centers of Buddhism, often populated by red-robed bald-headed Tibetan Buddhists, many of whom are in
exile.
Sidartha Gautama (Buddha) was born in the Kingdom in the 6
th century BC, but swiftly left to tour what is now northern India, and it wasn't until the 5
th century AD through the marriage of a Nepali King to his Chinese Buddhist sweetheart that the land of Nepal became Buddhist. Oh, the power of love! Nepal went through a protracted dark age until establishing a prosperous trade route through Kathmandu, marking the beginning of the golden age and wealth for Nepal. The centuries-long Hindu Shah dynasty began in the 1700's. The first Shah king, using his ruthless and skilled
Gurka fighters, conquered and united all of Nepal, and kept the Shahs in power in varying degrees up until the 1900s. Following this major (and bloody) unification, Nepal cut itself off from the outside world between 1812-1951. In the meantime, up to 300,000 Nepalis fought in World Wars I and II for the Allied troops. Upon opening it's doors in 1951, Sir Edmund Hillary and
Tenzing Norgay Sherpa promptly made history with their Everest summit at the height incompatible with life of 29, 035 feet (8,850 meters).
Politically, the now Republic of Nepal became a democracy in 1990, or what would be a decade of corruption under the guise of democracy. In 1998, the communist Maoist party was elected (yes, election of a communist party) with an overwhelming majority based on it's promises to support the people, who had lost any faith and trust in the current „democracy“. The Maoists had been fighting the "People's War" by terrorist means for the last decade. (The U.S. had siphoned billions of dollars to the government of Nepal to fight the Maoist terrorists, the same organization who now hold the power.) Two years later, Nepal still awaits a new constitution draft and the support and services promised.
THE FIRST NEPAL: KATHMANDU 
Brett and I were quite aghast on our arrival to Kathmandu at the physical, social and political conditions. The city is a sprawl of clay brick buildings of no more than four to five stories high in various levels of disrepair and dilapidation. The infrastructure is poor with narrow pitted dirt roads, inadequate traffic control, and crowds of people spilling into streets due to lack of walkways. Trash collection is inadequate, and rolling black-outs of electricity occur regularly. Our first meal, at the Yak Restaurant, was complete with a rat at our feet and roaches crawling across the food preparation area. Although we came out unscathed, we stuck to more upscale joints like Flavors Cafe on the
Bod'nath Stupa square. The square was our respite, complete with resident cow, a flock of doves,
monasteries, incense-filled air, and elderly women
circumabulating the
stupa clockwise while turning the prayer wheels and whispering to Buddha, Shiva and Brahman. The social conditions are no better. Trafficking of girls is not uncommon, and women have few rights. Only 33% of women are educated compared to 67% of men, which keeps women at home, in the fields, and subordinate to men. One of the young U.S. tourists, a college student we met along the way, had a frightening experience being pressed between men on a crowded bus and fondled. As we had heard such amazing things about Nepal, Kathmandu was shockingly uncomfortable place to travel, especially for me as a woman. Orphanages that house the clusters of city street children can do little more than put a roof over their heads and provide a diet with little nutritional value. The prospect of providing a bright future for these children are slim. Health care, from clean water, to access to care for the largely rural population, to availability of modern technology and medicine, are pipe dreams for most Nepalese. We found a retired Nepali economist named Ram at the Bod‘
nath stupa who publishes a journal called „Quarterly Development Review“. He has, in his retirement, dedicated himself to creating awareness of the social and political issues of Nepal, many
aforementioned. He is also accruing Hindu karma points in the process!
Frankly speaking, Kathmandu was a necessary evil en route to our big Himalayan adventure which was to start at the domestic terminal of the
Tribhuvan International Airport in Kathmandu. We were filled with excitement on our way to the airport. Four days later, we found ourselves dragging ourselves out of bed, repacking our backpacks and returning to the crowded and increasingly irritated mob of travelers in the
Tribhuvan airport, with little hope that the weather had cleared in our Himalayan destination
Lukla, in order to land at the most dangerous airstrip in the world. And to add to our experience, we learned that two planes had crashed in the last two months, killing most people aboard due to poor
visibility and difficult landing conditions. The icing on the cake was when we were finally offered the last two seats on a plane to
Lukla. On this fourth day (of what was becoming hell), the corrupt man working behind the
Nabil Bank counter refused to stamp our tickets to show we had already paid the airport tax. I paid him again, and he took my money and handed me our tickets back STILL unstamped. In disbelief and almost in tears, they escorted me away from the counter. Brett returned, and the crook of a man took even more of our money from Brett before finally giving us a stamp. On the bright side, during these four days we got a chance to get to know
Gopal Chetri, our faithful cab driver with the
Ganesh charm hanging from his rear-view mirror, who was to be found every morning waiting near the Bod‘
nath stupa. He is one of one million Nepali men that has had to leave Nepal at different times to find work. Our proprietors at the Dragon Guesthouse always welcomed us back with a warm welcome and a shared look of pity for our plight. And we made friends with fellow travelers who were stranded with us.
THE SECOND NEPAL: THE HIMALAYAS
~"Nowhere else are the earth and sky so alive. The glaciers melt, rocks tumble, cold wind cuts through ravines and across bluffs. The Himalayas are an amalgam of growth and destruction, as shifting earth pushes the peaks skyward, and the elements and human activity simultaneously work the earth, the stone, the waters slowly back down, right before the eye."
The fog finally cleared, we landed safely at the
Tenzing-Hillary
Lukla airport, and we began the journey through the magical mountains of the Himalaya (
hima=snow,
laya=home/land). I deleted the death note to my parents from the draft section of my e-mail. Brett was ecstatic, with child-like enthusiasm. I felt that we had entered another world, but reminiscent of the crisp, clear, mountain air of home. We marveled at the numbers and heights of waterfalls. We were told by a local that Nepal is second only to the Amazon for numbers of
waterf
alls. We were joined by our three new airport friends, Scott, Oliver, and Sam, with whom we had
commiserated over the last four painful days on the journey upward, through which would be our last cloudy day for the remainder of our trek! (That is, until we reached
Lukla at the end of our trek, at which time the clouds rolled in and sat heavy for another four days, grounding the planes.) The next 18 days were to be spent trekking a roughly estimated 100 miles, with the „The Snow Leopard“ by Peter
Matthiessen to accompany us on our journey. What follows here are some random journal entries during our days at altitude, engrossed in discussions on Buddhism and spirituality, surrounded in natural beauty,
tea houses, the Sherpa people, and some seriously stinky feet. Read: twenty-one days with one shower, two pairs of socks, and
Gortex water-proof shoes.
September 27, 2010
The same altitude as the summit of Long's Peak...here we are in the Himalayas at
Luza, 4,390 meters, at
Khang Tega View Lodge run by
Chumjee, a beautiful Sherpa woman with one gold tooth, traditional grey wool floor-length dress, hair tied back in a colorful scarf, and a Mountain Hardware down puffy. (Brett and I took to calling them "down
comfys“). The lodge sits cradled on all sides by hills covered in short grass and stubby bushes, granite rock formations over which a wide
gurgling stream passes, traveling toward the 500 meter drop-off toward the roaring grey river below. Flanking the lodge are meandering stone walls meant for the yaks to be contained and feed in the summer months. The sound of cowbells on the wind surrounds us. Above it all, sharp craggy monsters of bright white peaks encircle the hills, the stream, the lodge on all sides, while the hovering misty clouds meander half-way, buttressing the tallest crags.
Chumjee. She is humanity and compassion. As Brett stands, peering out through a clear morning sky, she sidles up to him to share the view, few words spoken. As I ready myself for yoga, she watches, and picks little white down feathers and stray hairs off of my black sweater. She notices me sitting on a hard flat granite wall, and offers me a pad for comfort. She is constantly watching, anticipating our needs. She has a poster on the wall of 25 different deities, which reflects the influence of Hinduism in the Tibetan Buddhism she practices. Village life may be hard, but although suffering may exist, it seems that they are spared the petty sufferings of the "modern" world, the existential angst of having too much choice, the neuroses that come with having too much time to ponder the navel, the creation of problems where none exist.
What is ideal? If one was able to miraculously steer the fate of world cultures, would one isolate them, or
enculturate them in western ideals, that invisible shroud passing over the world and homogenizing everything in it's wake?
Tears come easily in this land. Spontaneous beauty, an unexpected smile or act by a Sherpa, finding Brett's
silhouette at the top of the mountain, seeing him waving both arms dramatically so I can find him on the horizon.
September 29, 2010
We gained 1.400 feet today. (Maddening, isn't it. I keep switching the unit of height. And so it went for the entire trek-feet, no, meters...) We both have headaches in the occipital region of our brains. We stayed in
Luza for two nights since I ended up with a bit of nausea and a decent headache yesterday morning. Some minor headaches are to be expected. Today we stopped by the British-run emergency clinic in
Machermo. For 100 rupees, we had our oxygen saturation checked. Mine was 91%, and Brett's was 89-90%. Not bad for above 15,000 feet. Later in the evening, I sit listening to all of the languages being spoken at the
tea house, and wish I could speak them all and join in the conversations.
Tea house: A building with simple rooms and a common area attached to a kitchen. Stone on the outside, thin plywood walls and flooring on the inside. One shared squat toilet. Twin beds in the usually tiny rooms with random colorful and often dirty comforter covers. Common area set so that everyone sits on a permanent bench under the windows facing the center of the room, where an iron stove burns dried yak and
dzo dung, paper trash, or juniper branches. On the menu: potatoes, eggs, pasta with yak cheese,
dal bhat (lentils),
sherpa stew, garlic soup (for headaches), and tea. Ginger tea, hot lemon, hot orange, mint, tea with milk.
October 1, 2010In the village of
Gokyo.
Pasang, the son of our lodge owner, is a 25 year-old Sherpa who is studying the humanities in Kathmandu, focusing on sociology and computer graphics. He is well-spoken. His goal is to return to
Khumjung to teach the kiddos there. His family runs
th
e Lakeside Lodge in
Gokyo, and were very welcoming. Brett and I were the only people staying at the lodge. (As a matter of fact, it was pretty quiet and we got a lot of time with the locals all the way up the valley to
Gokyo.)
Pasang's little sister was charming. A three-year-old Sherpa girl with a
squinty smile, squeaky voice singing Sherpa songs, and red circles for cheeks. She is dressed in warm puffy clothes, and walks around observing and parroting everyone.
Pasang says he didn't appreciate his home in the mountains until he spent time in Kathmandu. He joined us for yoga on the morning we left, and although a bit inflexible, he took the session seriously and without ego.
This was our second day in
Gokyo. We would have left yesterday, but for a failed attempt to find our way across the glacier to
Dragnag. Following the (outdated) map, we found our way to the (old) trail, and made it half-way across the lifeless glacier, the trail abruptly ending at a cliff with rocks and ice dripping down the side and surrounded by water. Quite sketchy!
Pasang said that he remembers playing on the glacier 15 years ago when it was covered in snow. Now it is a vast wasteland of gray rocks covering underlying ice, interspersed with expanding lakes.
October 4, 2010
Climbed our highest elevation today, Kala
Patar, at 18,200 feet! We both have colds, and slept very little last night, waking every few minutes gasping for breath. Brett received a promise ring from his love with the inscription "Om Mani
Padme Hum" at the top of a very windy
Kalapatar, witnessed by the big peaks...Everest,
Ama Dablam,
Nupse,
Lotse, and various other 7,000 meter peaks. Tomorrow to
basecamp to leave a Snickers and a beer for Eric Larsen, who should be
summiting Everest this week. Also today, we found a bucket of hot water and shaved. This only happened once.
Om Mani Padme Hum: The Jewel in the Heart of the Lotus. This phrase is spoken millions of times a day, it is cast upon the wind through prayer flags, and carved into mani stone displays. It is at once a proclamation to the powers that be, and a reminder of our ever-lasting journey as we attempt to rise above the temporal human suffering to achieve the diamond-like enlightenment of nirvana. A Buddha is a living celebration of the human potential.
October 5, 2010Eric caught wind that we were in
Gorak Shep and ran down to say Hi! (What takes most people three hours takes him one...badass.) He leaves to get to Camp 3 tomorrow, so we would have missed him. He looks strong. It is said that at the death zone above 8,000 meters, the body begins to lose vital functions and is slowly dying. He is climbing with only five Sherpas. He says his company found five young motivated Sherpas who make Eric feel slow. Eric tells us that while he is doing the Everest step (left foot, breathe, right foot, breathe), one of the
Sherpas is skipping along behind him chatting on his cell phone. Eric is very
conscientious, doing a lot of the work himself to climb Everest, unlike many others who are not so conscious of the fragility of the environment and of human life. Sir Edmund Hillary may have popularized the
Khumbu region of Nepal, but he also spent the rest of his life giving back to the community...building schools, planting trees, creating environmental awareness. Unfortunately, many people have come to Everest in a selfish quest to summit at all costs. Those costs include the environment and human life.
~“Human life is far more important than getting to the top of the mountain.“ Sir Edmund Hillary
October 7, 2010We take step after step, heavy-chested, as a 25 year-old Sherpa catches us to talk. He is going to market at
Namche. He tells us he has a two-year-old. Oh, and he has climbed Everest. Twice. We chat, then he darts up the path, running, leaving us feeling as if we are standing still. The distances the Sherpas travel on foot through these difficult mountains breeds a realization of the capacity of the human body and spirit. And how we haven't reached it.
October 12, 2010After four days of praying for clear skies in Lukla, the town was becoming crowded with more and more trekkers waiting for the planes to begin flying. We had a flight out today for Delhi, India. We weren’t going to make it. Until a Singaporean woman offered us two seats out on a helicopter. We left at 8:00 am that morning, and arrived in Delhi that afternoon, with a mad rush in Kathmandu in between to return our rented gear and even do a little shopping!
Thoughts on our Exploration of Buddhism:
Buddhism arose in 500 BC through the Pali Canon, as an offshoot of Hinduism. There are many forms of Buddhism practiced throughout Southeast Asia, China, Japan, Nepal, Burma, and Bhutan. The principle components are a belief in reincarnation, karma, and meditation. Through meditation, pursuit of knowledge and moral virtue, ignorance and selfish desire are overcome, the cause of human suffering is removed, and nirvana is attained.
At first blush, Buddhism contains many attractive qualities. It is a peaceful religion. It teaches one to live a virtuous life. It relieves one of the suffering in life, and of the fear of death. It teaches benevolence and compassion. These are the qualities of most world religions. (An interesting observation--during my readings on Buddhism I have found many similarities not only with Christianity, but with Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics as well.) Yet, you really have to believe in reincarnation to be a Buddhist, in the strictest sense. The cosmology of many forms of Buddhism is likewise very complex, and difficult for our rational brains. Also, Brett and I have had many discussions about finding the balance between playing the part of the Buddhist dispassionate observer watching without judgement, and reacting to the emotion we encounter. How do we discover what we percieve as injustice, evil or pain, and not judge? This seems to be a paradox. Yet, what Buddhism seems to say is, that we do not react in the moment, but we find and use our unique talents to unleash on the suffering of the world in a thoughtful way.
No matter, this passage from Matthiessen’s "The Snow Leopard“ speaks to what I feel is the heart of Buddhism and being. Here he is talking about his young son Alex...
„In his first summers, forsaking all his toys, my son would stand rapt for near and hour in his sandbox in the orchard, as doves and redwings came down on the warm wind, the leaves dancing, the clouds flying, birdsong and sweet smell of privet and rose. The child was not observing; he was at rest in the very center of the universe, a part of things, unaware of endings and beginnings, still in unison with the primordial nature of creation, letting all light and phenomena pour through.“ 
Post-festival we moved on and finally found the peace we had been looking for in Pai. We felt like we were on the verge of imploding. Jenny had given the ultimatum. We stop for two weeks. Daily naps, writing, yoga, running, and chess games served to keep us busy during week one. But after about five days, Brett was getting fidgety and feeling like we were wasting time. Week two we moved about 4 km outside of (the already sleepy) town to an organic farm/fish pond and decided that we had found heaven on earth. Morning breakfast of home-made, organic muesli (over 32 ingredients including popcorn and pumpkin chips!), “good morning juice”, and “love tea” started each glorious day. Indeed, the menu stated that the food was made with “110% love”, and you could taste it in every bite (one morning Orn, the owner/chef told me she was upping my dosage to 120%). Brett settled in and began to enjoy this slower-paced life. And Jenny was getting her mojo back. 
