City to Village.

I just had maybe the best week of life last week. And let me tell y'all why...I finally got out of the polluted madness of Kathmandu and walked into the wild for a few days. Maybe the best solution for any problems, I'm telling you. Go for a hike and clear your mind, you will come up with some profound shit, I promise.

I will repeat what I did a few weeks ago to save myself the time of rewriting everything, this is what I wrote for work this week, plus some. Check it out...it's long, pull out the reading glasses.

Helambu-From the City to the Village.

Day 1

Ill prepared when I arrived in Nepal, I never planned on going trekking. The melting Himalayas, the impact of tourism on village life, and lack of gear and equipment; I just thought it would not happen. I did not want to have a negative impact on this beautiful country. My misperceptions could not have been more off. Late on Sunday night, the idea of trekking came to fruition with the motivation from a friend, and with the idea planted, we were packed and ready to go within hours.

Early Monday morning, our packs surprisingly heavy, we set out to catch a micro bus from Kathmandu to Sundarijal, the starting point for our week long back packing trip. Anxious with excitement and the unknown, the three hour bus ride sailed by and we landed in Sundarijal in the early afternoon, ready to embark on our newest adventure.

Sundarijal is merely a stopping point for hitting the trail at Helambu so we were immediately swept off our feet and directed to the trail head. Armed with torn out guide pages and a trail map, we started the climb to our first destination, Chisopani. Unfortunately, the cloud cover was thick in the morning and we were unable to see any mountains as the fog swept across the terraced hills. In spite of the fog, we started out strong, and it felt great to be back in the peace and quite of nature, and out of the polluted streets of Kathmandu.

At times it felt as if we were hiking through the hills of Costa Rica; brightly painted stucco houses complimented by swaying palm trees, corn stalks lining the walkway, chickens running loose and ducks padding along.

The most exciting part of our first day happened as we approached two men draining the intestines of a goat. They held the long spiraling intestines in one hand, flushing water through the balloon like tube to clean it out. As they finished this medical like procedure, the man in charge even showed us how they clean out the stomach. With a quick slice down the middle of the ballooning flesh, with his Kukuri –Nepali for knife- he drained the massive stomach of all contents. When we asked what was in the stomach, he simply shrugged with a smile, “Goo,” as if he knew exactly what we were thinking.

As I reflected later during the trek, thinking about the Everest sized mountain of rice that often accompanies the Nepali Dhal Bhaat, I felt wasteful just thinking about it. Eating goat or meat is often considered a luxury, and Nepali’s typically finish every last part of the animal, down to the intestines. It’s something to think about during all those meals when my eyes are much greater than my stomach, and it’s a struggle finishing the whole meal. Although those of you who know me well, know this rarely happens to me.

In the meantime, after witnessing literally, my first gut wrenching animal carcass, and reaffirming my lifelong commitment to vegetarianism, we finally arrived in Chisopani in the early afternoon, to rest our tired legs and warm up with a cup of hot tea. It soon became evident we were the only foreigners in Chisopani, so we stayed at the famed Mountain View Resort, one of many along the way, and enjoyed a delicious meal with the three friendly brothers who owned the lodge.

Day 2

As the rice terraces and rolling hills loomed in the foreground, trying to mentally prepare myself for the climb and unsure of what I was actually getting myself into, we set out very early the next morning to tackle the sweeping landscape. Our next destination lay a quick seven hours away in Kutumsang, contrasted by the Langtang Mountain Range and the Sherpa and Tamang villages sprinkled throughout the hillside. Of the 36 Caste’s in Nepal, the Helambu Region is most heavily populated by the Sherpa’s and Sherpini’s (Sherpini is the term for female Sherpa, which I was delighted to hear from one such woman) who gallantly trundle through the hillsides with effervescent grace.

Well into our way on day two of our trek, the cloud cover had dissipated and we were graced with stunning views of the landscape around us; sweeping terraced hillsides, palm trees, and bright speckles of the climbing Sherpa were more than enough to keep our feet moving in rhythm. Some of the most breathtaking views I have seen in my lifetime, and through heavy breathing and heavy feet, it was difficult to not stop and stare for hours.

Unaware of the sheer strength I would encounter along the way, I was consistently blown away by the resilience and power of the Sherpa people. Towards the end of the trek, as my gait slowed to a mere crawl, my legs aching and back sweating, I knew there was no room for excuses; the Sherpa outdid me every time. Hauling baskets on their heads overflowing with rice, sand, leaves, or fertilizer, each and every one displayed more strength than most people I have encountered in my life. While I was afraid the borrowed pair of shoes I sported would not be sufficient, or my bag would be too heavy; the Sherpas consistently trudged by wearing nothing more than a t shirt, sandals, and at times no shoes at all. Their feet cracking and thick from years of hiking, appeared stronger than the $90 hiking boots adorned on most trekkers feet.

Somewhere along the way, we encountered a group of school children on their daily walk back from school. Exams were finishing and they were headed home for a short holiday away from school

The few Nepali words I know were enough to gather that they make the long trek to school every single day, twice. A group of around ten girls slowly gathered around us, all wearing sandals and matching school uniforms. Pushing my limits, I knew it was the least I could do to keep up with the 14 year old girls, as I dragged my tired legs up hillside after hillside. In quick pursuit, we were also followed by a woman, appearing to be at least 70 years old, trudging along steadily up the hill. As we took a few rest breaks to chat with the girls and snap photos, she slowly made her way up the hill and passed us on the way down, her feet quietly crunching leaves under her polka dotted flip flops. Once again surpassed by someone twice my age, and ill equipped in every way by Western standards, to climb a mountain of this scale, all I could do was smile.

In the midst of our new found friends, one of the girls, a stunning 14 year old named Nanu recommended her uncles guest house where she lived. Unable to turn down her sweet face, we walked the remainder of our trip by her side to another Mountain View Resort, where we were greeted amiably by her uncles and a stunning view of the setting sun over the mountain peaks in the distance.

The lodge was nestled between the rolling hills, climbing Sherpa, and scattered guest houses. We arrived just in time for more hot tea, and meeting our new best friend, Frank, a six year old Dutch genius. He greeted us as any middle aged man would, and we quickly began chatting with the six year old as if he were the average adult trekker. Left by his parents who were off meditating, he was hanging out at the lodge with Nanu and her uncles. When we asked how he got to Kutumsang, naturally he replied, “I came with my Sherpa friends, and now I’m staying with my friends while mommy and daddy meditate at the Monastery.” His knowledge of Nepal and India were more than enough to convince my friend and I, that he was really an adult in a child’s body, posing as a decoy for tourists. He provided quite the entertainment for us, and we were delighted to spend time kicking back with him. We spent the rest of the evening eating delicious fried eggs and chapatti, drinking pots of tea and chatting with the lodge owners around the burning embers of a fire.

Day 3

Suffering from bouts of insomnia I was unable to sleep most nights of the trek, so our third morning in the hills I was feeling quite exhausted on the first leg of the hike. Our stopping point on this day was the highest point on the trek at Therapati, and also the intermission before the toughest part of the trek. Climbing uphill nearly the entire way with a quick stop in Magen Goth to re hydrate, we completed the day in our average of six hours, reaching Tharepati feeling refreshed and stronger than the day before.

The weather had cleared in the morning and once again we were blessed with clear skies and gorgeous views of the sweeping hills, but as we neared Tharepati, the clouds rolled in and the sky changed abruptly from a welcoming powder blue to a threatening shade of charcoal grey. Thunder clapping in the background, and lightning striking the clouds, we had arrived just before a surprise blizzard, almost unheard of in this region during the month of March. Fortunately, there was a fire ready and waiting for our arrival, and a perfect spot to read in the shadows of the Langtang Mountains. We spent the night watching the snowfall, enshrouding our lodge and covering the mountains in a blanket of crystal powder. The snowflakes continued throughout the night, and we woke to a world silenced by the beauty of a fresh powder. The Langtang range emerged peacefully in the clear sky, and the crisp air complimented the crunch of fresh snow under our feet.

Day 4

Enthralled by the beauty of our surrounding and thrilled to have seen my first snowfall of 2009, we began the day in a cheery mood, sleeping in past our usual 7 am start time. Consistently told this day would be our hardest yet, and would take at least ten hours on our foreigner legs, we knew it was essential to move quickly. Constantly asked how quick we were in comparison to Nepalis, who just so happen to be world champion mountain climbers as it turns out, the reply was always that foreigners take twice as long as Nepalis, regardless of speed.

My trekking companion and I started the steep descent from Tharepati with caution, carefully picking our way through the melting snow and ice trickling on the trail. Unsure of my legs, I started to feel the weight of my pack early on, and I was already getting the feeling my legs had turned to jelly. Certain that I would fill the gap between us once we reached solid ground, I watched in awe as my friend descended rapidly, confident and sure of each step. Malemchigaon -as we coined the New York City of Helambu for its grandeur size of more than five houses- was about half way between our final destinations. Sprawling out across the land in a small valley, I cruised through Malemchigaon hoping to find my friend sitting peacefully eating Dhal Bhatt, and waiting for me. However, she was nowhere to be found, and when I consulted the locals no one had seen her. Thinking she really was that fast, I continued along the trail in what I thought was the right way. Unfortunately, she was posted up drinking a hot lemon tea waiting for me, but I walked right on by taking the other route.

For the next seven hours, each of us thinking the other was injured or ahead of the other on the trail, I continued down the mountainside hoping to catch a glimpse of my friend. With no map, no trail heads, no signs, and no knowledge of the Nepali language, I carefully picked my way through the terraces, struggling to find my balance and make my way up the steep hills. I was basically to the point where I had given up on life, ready to lay down in the middle of the trail and let a Sherpa carry me home in a basket. I seriously, seriously considered laying down in a cowshed and shacking up. I swear, if I had run into any other trekkers they would have had a heli fly in to get me and evacuate me out, that's how torn up I was.

I continued on this way for the remainder of the day, literally saved by Didi each and every time. Didi is the term for older sister, also a form of respect for women elders. Basically everyone is Didi. I was so lost a few times, that children would come running after me down the trail yelling “Didi, Didi, this way this way!” to point me back in the right direction. This was one of the toughest days of hiking in my life, but I it was also the first time the trail tucked me under its wing and led the way. I would not have made it to Tarkye Gyang without help from countless people along the way lending me a hand.

I arrived at the guesthouse in Tarkye Gyang in the late afternoon, only to discover my friend had not made it yet. Convincing myself I was in the wrong place entirely but too exhausted to do anything about it I threw my bag down and went in search of water. A few minutes later I heard my friend through the door, and too my relief she had made it only ten minutes after me. Utterly exhausted to the bone, all we could do was lie down in the middle of the floor to catch our breath and tell stories from our day.

Relieved to have finished the most difficult leg of the trek, we spent the evening chatting with people in the guesthouse before retiring early for the night. In the morning we felt refreshed and revitalized, ready to tackle our fifth day on the trail; heading to Kakani, an alternate route back to Kathmandu. Since we had completed the trek much earlier than most, in a short five days rather than eight, we were prepared to hit the trails hard and make it back to Kathmandu the next day.

Day 5:

An early start under our belts, we started the slow climb down to Kakani, through the town Sermatang at around 2620m. With the adrenaline rush of being in the final stretch of the trek, we breezed through our last full day, braving a rain and hail storm to reach Kakani early in the day. TO our surprise, we came across quite a miraculous sight upon arrival; camped out in the middle of town-which consisted of no more than five houses-mingled a large group of people. Thinking we were approaching a wedding, and not wanting to disturb, we approached with caution. We soon discovered that we had in fact stumbled upon the first meeting held by the Cancer Society of Nepal, in Kakani, ever.

Women huddled in groups on faded grass, girls sat shyly together holding hands, and the doctors mingled around chatting with us as we looked on in awe. The Cancer Society traveled all the way from Chitwan National Park, along with doctors from Kathmandu, to meet in Kakani to provide free consultations and screening for the people of this town. Located at the school house in the classrooms, the doctors and nurses provided eye examinations, lung tests, and even mammograms and pap smears. This was the first time anyone living in this town had ever been tested for any of this. Eighty year old women were lined up to get their first pap smear.

According to the doctors, cervical cancer is the number one disease in women in Nepal, which is cause by; early childbirth, early sexual experiences, smoking, cleanliness, nutrition, and HPV. It was hard for me to imagine going through this examination for the first time in my life at the age of fifty, or eighty, or even thirty. The prevalence of cataracts in this region is also very high, and we were told that 15 out of the 75 women develop cataracts, which are caused predominantly by smoke in the home. Most families living in the villages surrounding the valley cook all meals around open fires in their homes, while billowing smoke surround the room and their lungs. There are no cancer awareness campaigns in Nepal, and we were all surprised to see many of the women light up cigarettes after their screenings. The founder of the Cancer Society Nepal, who began the organization after his son, died of leukemia a few years back, told us the women cannot afford clean water, they often cannot afford adequate food, but they can always afford cigarettes.

This was one of the most powerful experiences on our five day trek, and although I could not communicate with many of the women, we quickly broke down barriers simply by interacting with them and showing our support and interest. I am consistently amazed by the stunning beauty of women in Nepal, and their sheer determination in all the challenges they face.

Did I forget to mention that we had a dance party with the entire village of Kakani. Erin and I planned out my life to move into the village, learn Sherpa and Nepali, and teach English. Just livin the dream. There was some famous Nepali singer making an appearance, who not only loved to listen to his own voice, but actually played a video of him performing. This might have been the most crackin night of the year in this town. So naturally Erin and I went big, put on our dancing shoes -oh wait, I was still wearing my hiking shoes, clothes, bandana..you know the works, lookin real good - and got down with the village girls. No joke, it was me, my friend Erin and like six fourteen year old girls dancing the night away, while the older women sat and watched. I tried to keep my distance from the flock of men dancing who somehow thought I was actually a belly dancer. Right.

Day 6:

Feeling great from our last night stay in Kakani, the walk back to Malemchi Pul Bazaar proved to be more difficult than we expected, but regardless the trail was beautiful and we were greeted time and again by smiling friendly faces willing to show the way. Descending to lower a lower elevation than Kathmandu, we carried our tired bodies to the bus stand to catch what we thought was a quick three hour ride back to Kathmandu. Unfortunately, the bus ride turned out to be the long route and we were stuck on the bus for five hours. However, we were still reluctant to return to the rain showers of Kathmandu and leave the beautiful mountain surroundings of Helambu.

I wrote off trekiing when I first arrived in Nepal, but after completing my first oneI know for certain is the first of many to come. This trek was one of the most challenging, empowering, and spectacular weeks of my life, and something I will truly never forget. If you have any reservations about trekking, put those immediately aside lace up your hiking boots and hit the trails. You will not regret it.

Lastly, if you are considering using a guide or a porter on any of the treks, please respect their livelihood and make sure they are receiving proper pay, equipment, and meals. For more information on how you can ensure they receive the best care, check out the website Porters’ Progress. While this organization is no longer up and running, the website is still available and provides very helpful information in choosing the right company, as well as fair treatment of porters. Furthermore, let’s do our best to keep this beautiful country clean, and practice environmental consciousness while you are on the trail. Leave no trace, and pack away all materials. Boiled water is available at all the guesthouses to reduce plastics; iodine tablets are another option and can be purchased at any trekking store in Thamel. So hit the trails and enjoy the beautiful Himalayas!