Recovering in Kathmandu

*** I've updated the trek blogs--all photos are now posted.  Go back and check them out!***


Boy, you’d think I had climbed Everest the way I’ve been milking this recovery effort.  Not really; we are feeling just fine here in Kathmandu.  It's quiet around the house since Mike, Amy, and Ethan are not here.  They are enjoying their first vacation as a family away from Nepal in Hawaii. 

Our first day back was the only day we reveled in doing not much at all, except laundry and hanging out with our American trekking friends at a restaurant in town.  After that, we’ve been keeping ourselves busy around the house and around the Kathmandu Valley.

On Sunday, we made an excursion to the medieval city of Bhaktapur, about an hour east of Kathmandu.  The ride out was long, dusty, and bumpy.  At one point, we literally had to wait for a road crew to finish building the road before we could go on.  Well, actually, Shree lost patience and drove over the pile of rubble that had been dumped in the middle of the dirt road.  We also hit a colossal traffic jam in the very narrow streets of Thimi, about twenty minutes out of Bhaktapur.  Apparently, a driver had parked his car in the middle of the narrow throughway in order to take a call on his cell phone.  At least he wasn’t driving while talking, huh?

When we finally arrived to Bhaktapur, we hired a guide, Rahju, for a three-hour tour.  Rahju, a lifelong resident of the town was a very kind man, and well informed.  His compact build and facial features gave him the distinct feel of a Nepali Joe Pesci.  Rahju spent three hours touring us around the fantastic Durbar Squares, past countless ancient temples, down quiet, impossibly narrow back streets, and to many artisans’ shops.  We got the feeling he was trying to help out his buddies with our visits.  We did break down and purchase a few Buddhist thangka paintings at an art school, but we drove a hard bargain (at least in our minds).

Potters' Square

We definitely enjoyed our visit to Bhaktapur.  Unfortunately, on the way home from Bhaktapur, I had my first bout of culture shock.  I had held out for so long, almost a month, but it finally hit me hard.  As I gazed out the car window on the drive home, everything I saw either shocked, depressed, or just plan annoyed me.  The filth of the streets, air, dogs, children was shocking.  The poverty was overwhelmingly depressing.  The spitting, nose-picking, insane driving practices annoyed me to pieces.  I was spent and just needed to go home and rest.

But no… we had to stop at Bhat Bhateni on the way home.  This Nepali super-store was the last place I wanted to be late in the afternoon.  It was crowded and overwhelming.  Gideon was set on finding some tools for his chicken coop project as well as groceries for the next few days.  Apparently I was being less than cooperative, perhaps even childish (imagine that).  Gideon finally had had enough of me and sent me back to the car to wait with Shree.  I gladly went, bought Shree and myself ice cream cones on the way out, and recovered in the car.

The rest of the evening was quiet as I avoided thinking about the fact that I was in Krazytown (uh, I mean Kathmandu), and Gideon just plain avoided me (not that I blame him).

The following day, Monday, turned out to be a wonderfully relaxing day.  We did not leave the sanctuary of Satya Mahal.

I spent the day in the kitchen with Sunita teaching her some American recipes.  We made oatmeal raisin cookies.  “I think I will have dreams about these cookies,” Sunita swooned upon trying her first one.  We also made French bread and goulash (hamburger macaroni casserole), a good basic American recipe that can be doctored in endless ways.  Sunita taught me how to make Nepali milk tea (like chai).  She also let me in on the secret that milk tea is an appetite suppressant--definitely a good thing to know!

Gideon spent the day outside with Shree and Kashav (the gardener).  They made excellent progress on a chicken coop for Ethan’s pet chickens, Chicky and Chicklet.  The birds marched around in the yard all day, observing the progress of the construction of their new digs.

Today we paid a visit to the family of our friend in California, Mangal.  We met his beautiful wife, Asha, and his nephew, Maita.  Asha made a delicious Nepali lunch for us (with the best chicken I’ve had in Nepal).  Maita is a charming trekking guide and we enjoyed sharing our trekking experience with him.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent in Thamel, the main touristy shopping area in central Kathmandu.  We put on our bargaining hats and bought all kinds of Nepali souvenirs.  We got some great deals, as well as some not-so-great deals, but all in all, we were happy with our shopping excursion.

On the way home, Gideon and Shree made a number of stops at hardware stores (more like hardware hole-in-the-walls) to purchase a few more feet of chicken wire and a sheet of corrugated tin for the roof of the chicken coop.  Man, shopping for building materials and tools in Kathmandu is an experience in and of itself.  There aren’t Home Depots around here, not even an equivalent to Ace Hardware.  You just have to drive around until you see what you need in one of the little open storefronts along the narrow side streets.  Eventually, their search paid off and we headed home with all the needed supplies for Gideon to finish the chicken coop tomorrow.

By the time we made it home, a great thunderstorm had blown over the city.  Poor Shree and Kashav were utterly unprepared to drive home in the storm on their motorcycles.  They looked nervous about the prospect, so as the lady of the house, I ordered them to come in and share the pizza dinner Sunita had prepared earlier for us.  Okay, I didn’t “order” them to join us, but I strongly encouraged them, perhaps even pleaded a bit.  They gave in after a few very close lightening strikes shook the neighborhood.  We all ran into the house together before being blown away or struck by lightening.

We had a good time talking and eating, and learning a bit more about Shree and Kashav.  After salad and pizza, the rain seemed to peter out.  “Can we leave?” Kashav asked.  Man, I felt like we had been holding them against their will, force-feeding them.  “Yes, you may go,” I replied, a bit taken aback.  They thanked us for dinner and rumbled off on their motorcycles.  But before they left we invited them for dinner again tomorrow night, since it’s our last night.  We’ll see if they stay.  :)

By the way, Nima is still in the mountains with his son.  He had some things to take care of out there and he's supposed to fly back tomorrow.  We hope to see him before we head back to the States!

Day 15 Back to the ‘Du

We woke to gray, overcast skies… not a hopeful sign for our 7am flight out of Lukla.  I was convinced we would be staying in Lukla for at least another day, as countless flights had been cancelled over the past few days due to limited visibility.  But Temba insisted that we get ready to go.  “You never know,” he said.  I was doubtful.  We walked the few minutes to the airport where we met up with Temba’s father-in-law.  He helped us get checked in and assured us we would be flying out.  I still wasn’t convinced. 

It took a while for the sky to clear sufficiently, but finally, at 9:30 we boarded our Tara Air flight, along with 12 other passengers, two pilots and one flight attendant.  In a matter of moments we were hurtling down the shockingly short, steeply declining runway. 

A moment later, we were soaring over the gaping valley, which dropped thousands of feet off the edge of the runway, and were making our way over the mountain tops.  A bumpy forty minutes later, we touched down in Kathmandu. 

Amy and Mike’s driver, Shree, who had been waiting for us for four hours, was glad to see us and escorted us to our home-away-from-home in Kathmandu, the Satya Mahal.  The rest of the day was spent doing nothing… a welcome change of pace for these tired trekkers.

Day 14 The long walk back to Lukla

After many hugs and well-wishes from our new friends in Namche, Gideon and I set off for Lukla, where we are scheduled to catch the first flight to Kathmandu tomorrow morning.  Over the past few days, our new friends had blessed us in the Sherpa fashion with dozens of scarves, each one draped around our necks with a blessing of good luck and safe travels. 

 Chindi, the two staff girls, Mingma, Ang Chhiki, Tashi, Emily, Buddha Raj, Newang Phinjo, Gideon, Nima

With our scarves and blessings, we started the long walk back to Lukla.  Nima accompanied us for the first hour and a half before turning back to Namche where he will stay with his son for another day.  Mingma, our porter, accompanied us all the way to Lukla.  The poor guy just about had a heart attack when Gideon asked if he could try carrying the heavy duffle bags across a cable suspension bridge.  Mingma laughed nervously as Gideon adjusted the carrying straps, porter-style, across his forehead and heaved the 100 lb. load into position.  I headed halfway across the bouncing bridge to capture the effort, laughing all the while as Gideon acted as the porter and Mingma spotted him from behind.  After reclaiming the bags on the opposite side of the bridge and exclaiming some unknown, highly agitated but amused words with witnessing porters, he walked on, continuing to laugh his nervous laugh for the next ten minutes.

About an hour later, I spotted a man huffing up the trail.  What caught my eye was the fact that he was a huge African American guy, the first African American I had seen since coming to Nepal.  He was wearing a University of Michigan t-shirt and it looked like he could have been a football player.  I was also intrigued by the fact that a man walking backwards in front of him was filming him with a high definition professional camera.  I said hello and walked on wondering who he was. 

It turns out it my instincts were correct.  It was Dhani Jones, an NFL linebacker who has a show on the Travel Channel called Dhani Tackles the Globe.  He was trying to tackle Nepal, just like us, I suppose.  I wish him luck!

After endless hours of walking, our friend Temba, from Sonoma, met us at a teahouse.  He traveled to Nepal with Nima and is visiting his wife and daughter in Lukla.  We walked the last hour with Temba and his wife and arrived at her family’s inn in Lukla, the Namaste Lodge, in the late afternoon. 

The highlight of the inn was having our own private bathroom, complete with a shower right in our room.  After making use of the shower, we spent the evening with new friends and travel bloggers, Dave and Deb.  I was totally inspired by this couple who are living the dream, having their world-wide travel adventures funded by advertising on their blog, The Planet D.  We shared travel tales and laughed heartily until bedtime.  Be sure to check out their site.  Deb is the writer and Dave is the photographer—a dynamic duo, to say the least!

Tomorrow, if the weather is clear, we fly back to Kathmandu.  I’m hoping we do, only because we are down to our last few rupees and there’s no ATM until Kathmandu!

Day 13 One more hike for good measure

 
Today we made our final excursion from Namche to Thamo, a small town to the west of Namche.  The good news about our hike is that we had a net elevation gain of zero feet.  Thank god!  Our guide today was Chindi, as Nima decided to stay back to visit with his mother-in-law.  Chindi’s daughter, Tashi, came along, and Mingma, the porter, joined us as well.  The walk led us along a relatively level trail through the forest skirting the hills separating Namche and Thamo. 


The two-hour walk to Thamo was put to good use when I asked Tashi to teach me some Napali words.  I learned a lot, but I’m afraid I was a dim-witted language student, or perhaps Tashi was a hard-nosed, uber-particular teacher!  Shouts of “No, no! Not sar, TSAR!  Not punch, BAUNCH!” rang through the peaceful hills for over the course of the language lesson. 

The highlight of our visit to Thamo was climbing up to the Buddhist monastery.  Home to approximately 35 Tibetan nuns, the monastery was recently constructed.  The nuns are now busy painting the very intricate, colorful décor of the interior. 

Until the monastery is finished (in a few years, most likely), the nuns continue their meditations in the tiny building that has served as their monastery for years.  We were invited into the ten-by-twenty foot room for tea with a couple of the nuns.  I was touched by this kindness, especially when the younger nun found a tin of popcorn and crackers to share with us.  “Shee, shee!”

Our walk home was long, and I ended up crashing for a two-hour nap once we reached Namche.  Although today’s hike was not all that difficult, my body is exhausted from the constant exertion of the past few weeks.  When I finally woke, we all enjoyed our last evening in Namche huddled around the woodstove, laughing and eating until it was time for bed.

Day 12 Hiking in the clouds

“How about a little hike today?” asked Nima when we wandered down to the dining room for breakfast.  “We’ll go to visit the town of Khunde and see the hospital there.  Then we’ll visit the school started by Edmund Hillary in Khumjung.  Then we can do lunch at the Everest View Hotel, the highest hotel in the world.”

“Sounds great!” Gideon and I agreed. 

We were to leave after breakfast.  Nima’s fifteen-year-old son, Newang Phinjo, and Nima’s ten-year-old niece, Tashi, would be joining us.  Both had arrived to Namche the previous day, as well as Mingma, Tashi’s fifteen-year-old sister, and their father, Chindi.  Chindi, had accompanied the kids from Kathmandu to Namche after they had finished their school exams.  They are on holiday for a month.

During breakfast, Gideon checked out the map.  “Hmm, I hope Nima didn’t say Khunde.  That’s a 1300 foot climb.”  I shrugged off this idea; Nima certainly couldn’t mean for us to climb that much on our day off.

We headed out—Nima, Newang, Tashi, (porter) Mingma, Gideon, and I.  We hiked straight up.  For hours.  We all started off strong, but Tashi and I quickly fell to the rear of the group, bonding through our exhaustion and distress, sharing water and taking breaks together.

 "Uphill???"

Upon arriving in Khunde, Nima needed to pay a quick visit to his friend Pasang’s mother.  She was delighted to see Nima and upon hearing that he had folks with him, she insisted we join her in her home for tea.  What a delight to sit with this sweet, generous, talkative woman.  She made a great vat of milk tea and “shee, sheed” us until we had all consumed at least four cups each.  Although I could not understand most, if any of what she and Nima said, I could tell by her great big smile and animated manner that she was thrilled to have guests.  This woman who lives on so little by Western standards had so much to share with all of us and I will fondly remember our visit to her traditional Sherpa home.

From there we paid a visit to the small hospital up the hill.  The doctor, a friend of Nima’s, showed us around the facility.  It was a tiny clinic, but very important in the region, being the only medical facility available to nearly 6,000 people in the surrounding villages as well as trekkers visiting the region.

At this point, the clouds began to pile up against the Khunde hillside.  Soon nearly all visibility was lost.

 We worked our way through the mist to the neighboring town of Khumjung to visit the Khumjung High School, established in 1961 by Sir Edmund Hillary.  The school was quiet and peaceful, as the students had scattered to their homes in the neighboring villages for their month-long break, but I could easily imagine the energy typically contained within the school grounds.

Our final uphill push for the day was to Everest View Hotel, the Guinness Book of World Record’s highest hotel at 12,729 feet.  Set on the top of a hill looking towards Mt. Everest, the view is supposed to be breathtaking.  We wouldn’t know since all we could see was the fog that had completely engulfed the place.  As we sat in the deserted five-star hotel, eating our lunch, it felt a bit eerie, like the set of an old Hitchcock movie.  We did enjoy a fantastic lunch, however, reveling in the fact that there were some variations in the menu compared to what we had been eating for the past twelve days.  I had a filet mignon and enjoyed every over-cooked bite.

From Everest View, we followed the downward trail through the thick mist back towards Namche.  Tashi was our fearless leader and led us all safely through the spooky haze.

We were just about home to the Shangri La when we were spotted by Jen’s mother-in-law from the porch of her lodge.  “Come in for tea!” she ordered.  In we went, and more tea we drank.  “Do you eat meat?” she asked.  I nodded my head dumbly, committing us all to stay for dinner.  This Sherpa hospitality is amazing, but honestly, we had just eaten a big lunch an hour earlier at Everest View.  Alas, there’s no stopping a Sherpa woman.  Soon, we all had plates of gravy-covered buffalo steaks, vegetables, and fries in front of us.  We dutifully ate up, thanked her for her kindness and slowly shuffled back to the Shangri La for the night.

Day 11 R&R in Namche Bazar

Our first full day back in Namche was indeed relaxing.  We spent most of the afternoon at the Khumbu Lodge dining room hanging out with our American trekking friends, Ted and Peter, and our Australian friend, Bridget.  A great deal of time was spent rehashing the gory details of our trek to Kala Patthur.  Thanks to Ted and Peter, most of the rehashing was done in an English accent, in diary form, as if we were old English explorers: “22nd March: Dear Diary, I fear my men will revolt if forced to carry my parquet floor any further… But I cannot bear the thought of leaving it behind.  What would I do if gripped by a spontaneous urge to dance a jig and had not my parquet floor on which to dance?”  (Apologies to Ted and Peter for my lousy paraphrasing of their hilarious banter.)  A good time was had by all until we thoroughly annoyed the other guests and lodge staff with our rowdy carrying on and slunk out to our respective lodges.

Gideon and I headed back to the Shangri La in the late afternoon for a nap.  Just as I was nodding off, Buddha Raj came knocking.  “Miss, would you like to make momos?” he asked.  I had been asking to join in on the momo-making since we had arrived to the Solukumbu area.  Momos are the Nepali form of dumplings, pot-stickers, perogies, empanadas, etc.—a basic dough pocket containing whatever yummy goodness you can think to put inside.  In Nepal, they are mainly stuffed with spicy meat mixtures, vegetable mixtures, or potato mixtures.  “I’ll be right down!” I shouted, and slapped myself awake before heading to the kitchen. 

You might think momo-making would be a low-key activity for the evening, but you’d be wrong.  It was a spectacle—the evening entertainment for everyone in the family, as well as the lodge staff.  Chindi’s wife and lodge matron, Ang Chhiki was my first teacher, showing me the basics for making the meat and vegetable filling, as well as the dough.  Gideon was the note-taker, jotting down the recipes as I observed.  Once the filling and dough was prepared, it was time to make momos.  Rounds of thinly rolled-out dough were cut with the lid of a peanut butter jar.  Each round received a dollop of filling and was pinched into the proper momo shape.  Easy, right?  Not really.  The technique was a bit tricky.  I watched carefully but the details were eluding me. 

 Ang Chhiki showing me how it's done

 Gideon and Chindi enjoying the show

That’s when Dhowa (?) stepped in.  He had been Chindi’s first mate for years in expedition cook tents and is a talented momo-maker indeed.  He also happens to be deaf, which means he is quite proficient at non-verbal communication.  He got my attention and had me following his lead slowly and carefully until I was churning out momos that met his approval.  Eventually Gideon joined in the momo making and showed us all his interpretation of the technique. 

 

Lots of laughter and many, many momos later, we all sat down to enjoy the fruits of our labor.  We ate and ate until we thought we would burst.  Ang Chhiki continued to bring out steamed momos insisting we have just a few more.  “Shee, shee!” she would chide when we put up our hands in resistance—“More, more!”  Once she was satisfied that everyone in the room was sufficiently stuffed with momos, she let up and we hobbled up the stairs to bed.

Day Ten--We're coming home baby!

Today we walked from Tengboche back to Namche.  For some reason, Namche feels most like home here. 

Before we headed out of Tengboche, we paid a visit to the Buddhist monastery.  Gideon and I have been to monasteries before, but there was something quite different about visiting one with Nima.  As a Sherpa, he is Buddhist.  We were able to watch his rituals in and in some cases emulate them.  We were even blessed by the lone monk in the monastery. 

 Nima with the monks busily rebuilding a mani wall in the background

Our hike back to Namche involved some major downhill sections as well as more uphill climbs, which I was not overly excited about.  Fortunately, the weather was warm and clear, and no more down jackets, hats and gloves were required.  What a change from the day before!  All three of us felt strong again and were able to breathe what felt like full breaths once more.  Our smiles and upbeat attitudes had returned as well and we enjoyed conversing almost the whole five hours of our hike. 

Yummy Sherpa stew (no Sherpas were harmed in the making of my lunch)

THE BIGGEST load we saw on the entire trek.  Check out Gideon's face.

One thing that sticks out about our hike today was the great number of yaks and zupyuks on the trail.  All were heavily loaded with expedition gear and supplies heading to Everest base camp.  It was warm and dusty on the trail and the poor beasts were hot and tired, some even panting.  I thought only dogs panted, but yaks do too.  One memorable yak encounter was when we came across a team on a rather narrow part of the trail and one decided to pass another.  As the yak tried to pass, the gear got hung up with the other’s and one of the two yaks was almost pushed off the edge of the trail (and down a few thousand feet). 

"Yeah, that scared me," Nima said.  I'm always surprised to find out when something scares Nima.  He seems like such a fearless guy, especially here in his element, but he's not afraid to admit when he's scared, which I admire.

Around 3:15, we arrived in Namche.  It was like coming home, especially when we came to the Shangri-La.  Chhiki was there to welcome us, as well as Tsering Phinjo (sounds like cheering Pinsu), her five-year-old son, and Buddha Raj, her fifteen-year old godson. 

The absolute highlight of our return was the hot shower.  It had been a week since our last shower, and we all were offending each other and ourselves with our stinkiness and layers of grime.  Never has a shower felt so good!