Meeting the mountains
A journey to Nepal, in a Covid world, hardly seems possible, or wise maybe. But my wife and I, both in our sixties, though: we have to try. Who knows what it’s gonna be next year. We had the luck to get acquainted with a Dutch couple, who were in close contact with a guide over there: Raby Dong. We got the visa. just in time, Raby arranged the permits necessary for our stay in the mountains. Stuff we needed we could buy over there. He would meet us in Kathmandu.
So we packed our things, warm clothes, bag pack, mountains shoes and left, to meet with Mountain. From Schiphol to Istanbul. Gigantic airport, endless space, people trying to create their own place on a couch, in a chair. And then you’re lifted in the night, the lights of the city beneath you, breakfast at three o’clock. And in the morning rows of small houses on the top of the mountains. Kathmandu.
A warm welcome by Raby, ceremonial shawls, a small taxi through the crazy, honking traffic, thousands of motors, to our hotel. Naturally in the tourist neighborhood Thamel.
On the next day, Raby took the time to show us some highlights of the city. Impressive Buddhist temples and the famous Hindu site at the river where corpses are honored and burned. We stood watching, talked about life and the village where Raby came from.
The hard existence of a lot of people in a country, rich in culture, but poor in development. We buy what we need for the trekking in a small shop, where Raby’s clients are more than welcome. North Fake may not be the real stuff, but it is great. We eat on a rooftop at the night, drink coffee in an empty tourist joint.
In a four-wheel jeep, we drive to the point where we will start trekking. Our porter, Janak, a very nice young guy, in the back. It rains, it has rained a lot, far too much and too long. Roads are bad, but now much worse, and sometimes just impassable. We sleep in a nice place in Jagat. At the side of a river, tables on a terrace, under a canopy. And it rains, loudly on the roof at night.
But the next days it clears, we start our trekking, the Annapurna trail, through the rice fields. Falling water, no rain anymore, but everywhere the sound, bubbling, roaring, and the sight of water. Villages we pass through are badly damaged, bridges wasted. Raby points at an empty spot: “here was the hotel where I used to stay”. But we find another place, eat curry and dal bath, drink beer, and meet a Swedish guy on a bike, enjoying his place in the world, and far from afraid.
When we walk a stretch through the mud along the river, where the road completely vanishes, we suppose he must have given op. But then we climb to a very beautiful village, a Buddhist monastery with a great view of the impressive mountains, picturesque stone houses, Upper Pisang, and there he is, loving the place, the people he met, and the ceremonies he has witnessed.
Trekking with Raby is great, especially to witness with the Himalayas; he knows what he is doing, has a sense of humor, but is serious when he needs to and is very caring. When we went up to lake Tilicho it was a tough trip, iced trail, whirling snow, a biting wind. Strange thing is that there were hardly any western tourists, but lots of young Nepalese. Rich kids from the city, who seem to have made each other crazy on TikTok. ‘Lake Tilicho, you must have seen!’. So there they were unprepared, slippery shoes in the icy cold. The few who made it, performed their little dance at the side of the lake, at 4.900 meters. But Raby helped us, and them down, very alert, showing how and where to walk.
And then we go up to the Thorang-La pass. fighting for breath, but happily no heavy hight sickness. At the top Raby and Jona adjust a new string of Buddhist flags, we drink tea and Raby congratulates us for what we are doing. It hasn’t been often that he passed the pass with people over sixty. You don’t know whether you want to hear that, but at the same time, it is so nice a compliment. We thanked him for making it possible.
Down in Muktinath, on the edge of the Upper Mustang. we visit a famous Hindu site, but with a remarkable Buddhist feel. Nepal seems to be a country with at least two faces. People in the city, where the Hindu religion is strong, know about the mountains, but it is our impression that it is clearly not their world. The Buddhists in the mountains are open, friendly, and give a very authentic impression, but they are not in the lead. Raby is one of them.
Near Muktinath, we visit a monastery in a village, where lamas ceremonially recite the books they have. they sing, it seems for four days, and it is very, very impressive. As the festival in Marpha, further on in the valley, is festive. A trance of movement, music, and color. Being in the Himalayas, we realize, is so much more than trekking in the mountains, But that’s the end of the trail.
Raby arranged our trip back. We fly to Pokhara. Relaxing in the lovely climate of the lower regions, at the lake. Raby takes the bus to Kathmandu. We follow, by plain, a few days later. And there he is waiting, at the airport. It is great to meet again. Together we visit Bhaktapur, one of the old imperial cities, and we move on to Nagarkot, up in the first row of mountains on the edge of Kathmandu. With a fabulous view of the range of Himalayan summits. To say goodbye. And that is not easy.
Rob van Aerschot
December 19 2021
