In the Throne Room of the Mountain gods

As we all pondered and prepared for our trip to Nepal, our main focus was on…well, the mountains. We were going to be spending three weeks wandering around in the shadow of Himalayan peaks. What we didn’t know, and hadn’t anticipated, was how much we would come to admire and appreciate the Nepalese people in general, and our guides and porters specifically.

Dawa Finjo Sherpa met us at the airport. For the next month this young man was our guide, mentor, nurse-maid, and friend. Although he was young, he had a wealth of experience in the mountains both as a climber and as a guide. He made all the arrangements for us at the various tea houses as we trekked through the countryside. He sized up our abilities and planned our route and side trips accordingly. As we all, one by one, fell prey to various lung and intestinal maladies, he reached into his bag of western and traditional remedies to nurse us back to health. Gradually as we got to know him, we were able to coax out some amazing stories. One of my favorites was about his successful Everest climb just six months prior. He had been paired with the egotistical and incompetent leader of an Albanian national team of climbers. This ‘climber’ was more than willing to let the Sherpa guides break trail, fix ropes, haul all the gear, food, oxygen, set up the tents, etc. so that he could ‘climb’ the mountain. Despite his lack of talent, this individual insisted that he be the first to reach the summit. Finjo just nodded and smiled – and dialed back his oxygen flow. As he slowed down, the rest of the team caught up and they reached the top together. Well played Finjo – well played. Now seven years later, Finjo still makes sure to wish the “Queen Mom” (Sharon) a happy birthday every year when the date rolls around. We couldn’t have asked for a better trip leader.

Our trip through the Himalayas would have been very different without the porters. We were each allowed a 35 lb duffel bag with extra clothes, sleeping bag, personal gear, etc. This was in addition to our day pack. Each porter would carry TWO of these gear duffels, plus their own gear, plus a portion of the community gear. And, we found out later, no matter how far we traveled or how high we climbed on any given day, it was a point of honor for them to arrive at our destination before the clients. One thing we noticed almost immediately was there was a definite “servant – master” dynamic evident. This made us all extremely uncomfortable, especially when we saw other trekkers totally buy into that and treat their guides and porters with disrespect. In spite of all their hard work, the porters often were required to sleep outside. Our accommodations were definitely rustic, but still a far cry better than what the porters were given. Throughout the trip we tried to communicate how much we appreciated what they were doing for us, but given the language barrier it was hard to gauge our success. We regularly bought snacks and drinks for the crew, and at the very end during our farewell dinner, we made sure they were seated in the tea house so that we could serve them food and drinks. We never were able to find out what they earned for all their hard work, but we know that the tips they received from us were greater than the average annual income for a Nepali. As we were thanking them for all they did for us, they were thanking us for the privilege of schlepping our gear all over the Himalaya. The money they earn is generally used to support a large portion of their extended families. They definitely earned our admiration and respect.

One of our porters in particular, Santos, had a heartbreaking story. Throughout the trip, Santos was always upbeat, always had a smile, and even though we had a significant language barrier, liked to joke around with us. We found out after we’d parted ways and were back in Kathmandu that just days before our group arrived, his infant son had died. He apparently had contracted an illness that would have responded to the most basic of antibiotics. Since there were no antibiotics available in his village, his son died. Any one of us would have been immobilized with grief, or filled with anger at the unfairness…yet he did nothing to indicate he had just suffered this tremendous loss. It also saddened us to realize that regardless of his feelings, he could not pass up this financial opportunity. His work ethic and attitude, coming on the heels of that personal tragedy, left us all absolutely dumbfounded – and in awe.

Just a few days out of Lukla we stopped to spend the night in the village of Thame at about 14,000′. All afternoon, Cailie had been feeling a bit out of sorts. During the night she developed HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema). HAPE is a life threatening condition where fluid collects in the lungs. The only treatment is to descend to lower altitude so that the fluid can reabsorb into the body. Fortunately, one of the pieces of gear that our porters carried was something called a Gamow bag (good job Mountain Monarch). All night long the porters took turns keeping the bag inflated, which made Cailie’s body think it was several thousand feet lower than our 14,000′. To be fair, it probably helped that they all had a massive crush on Cailie – but still…

The night in the Gamow bag improved Cailie’s condition. Still, the decision was made for Cailie and Rob to return to lower elevation for a bit, with the hopes of joining us later on the trek. So after a tearful goodbye, an assistant guide and porter walked Cailie and Rob back toward Lukla. We found out later that during the next night, Cailie’s symptoms returned. Fearing for her safety, they took turns carrying Cailie on their backs 3,000 vertical feet down a steep, rocky trail from Namche Bazaar to a lower elevation. Thanks to their efforts, Cailie and Rob made it safely back to Kathmandu and a full recovery. Once again we were in total awe and very grateful!

While most of our interactions were with the members of our group, we did meet some interesting people along the way. And while we came for the mountains, much of what we remember most fondly were the people we met along the way.

Next Post: The Place…Lots of photos and videos – the Himalayas were everything we hoped they’d be – and more.