Category: Nepal Page 5 of 7

We started up the steep steps from our guesthouse in Sermathang, looking down at the terraces once again, and walked past a field of prayer flags. Interspersed with the tranquil countryside were constant reminders of the earthquake in the form of landslides, yawning cracks in the earth, and washed-out trails.

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By late afternoon we had reached Ghangyul, which had been nearly flattened. The large temple was no more. Just vertical prayer flags marked where it had been. On the terraces, people had built wooden shacks, their stone homes now gone.

We walked past a destroyed stupa and guesthouse, the Dolmo, whose owner, Kaga Lama, lost his wife, daughter, and eleven-month-old granddaughter as they were trying to escape the falling building. They were the only villagers killed. We stopped to talk with him and his two German guests, Elizabeth and Joachin Labinsky, who were helping their friend and former guide, as he worked on plans to rebuild his home.

I had been fighting a bad head and chest cold, and the day had been long enough, so we decided to stay at Ghangyul for the night. The terraces, once solely used for growing crops, were now where the villagers build their temporary homes and guesthouses from wood, tarps and tin, and where we were able to pitch our sleeping tent, and toilet tent.

Even in the rebuilt guesthouses, the kitchen is elaborate and well-stocked. At dinner we met two energetic Sherpas, guides in the Everest area who needed jobs, since the tourist rate had sunk by 30% as a result of the earthquake. One of them, Lakpa, was 24-years-old and had climbed to the summit of Everest five times. The other, Bardan Rei, was also a guide, but said he wanted to start a mountain biking business. They were now working for the United Nations World Food Program to supervise Nepali workers in repairing the damaged trails. The workers were paid in food, which was coming from member nations. We walked on many of these trails in the next few days and discovered, later, that much of the food owed the workers was being delayed because of the Indian blockade. You really wondered just how much more these people could endure.

The young Sherpas (one of whom was Buddhist and the other Hindu) were very idealistic and felt that Nepal would be stronger as a result of this catastrophe. We covered many subjects, but one parting phrase I will never forget: “Nepalis are true fighters. We fight to the end!”

The next morning we headed for Tarkyegang. All along the way, there were signs of the earthquake, either landslides in the distance, or cracks on the trail. Mani stones were abundant along the trail, with their various mantras. OM MANI PADME HUM being the most common. We passed over a charming bridge, far sturdier than most, enjoyed some lovely forest walks, and even passed by a stupa that was undamaged.

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Just before we arrived at our destination we spotted a large white tent with the imprint “Canada” on the top.  It turned out to be the temporary school for elementary children, which was going to be rebuilt by the Swiss NGO, Caritas.  There were presently only twenty students. The older children had been sent to Kathmandu to continue their studies until the new school was built.

We were invited by the teacher to visit and sit in on some of the lessons and activities. Here was an opportunity to donate some of the supplies generously provided by a good friend and internationally known storyteller, writer, and teacher, Lynn Rubright from St. Louis, MO.  The teacher distributed pencils, one of several gifts. The children were overjoyed and thanked us with singing.

We had arrived at the school just in the nick of time. Soon after we had distributed the school supplies, the day was over, and the children scampered up the hillside for the 10 minute walk to Tarkyegang. One of the children carried her small brother up the steep slope.

Following the children, we entered Tarkyegang. We met none other than Dan Maurer and his Nepali companion about whom I wrote in the previous blog post, heading out for Thimpu. They had just climbed Ama Yangri, starting at 7 AM and returning by noon (an amazing feat!) and were standing in front of the ruins of the beautiful guesthouse where we had stayed last year.

Last year we had a spacious room on the second floor of the two-story guesthouse. Now it is all rubble.  The sign was all that remained the same as we walked across the bridge to the guesthouse area.

The hostess from last year greeted us.  She was very upbeat and showed us a large tent and a partially rebuilt cottage where we could stay.

That afternoon we met two New Zealanders, Dr. Stanley Mulvaney from Invercargill (originally from Ireland!), and Bryan Scott from Dunellen.

“We are kiwis,” they announced, having just climbed with their guide over the 18,000 ft. ridge from Langtang to Ama Yangri to Tarkyegang. They had run out of both food and water and were melting snow as a last resort. Exhausted would have been an understatement of their condition when we met them.

Stanley and Bryan were here in Nepal surveying the earthquake damage and planning a service project to help the Nepali people.

They bounced back quickly from their grueling hike. Both men were full of ideas and a lot of fun in the bargain.

During the afternoon we wandered around town finding it difficult to cope with the condition of this once-beautiful community.

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Tomorrow would be an early day, so we said goodnight to the mountains and collapsed into bed.

We received a warm sendoff from Palchowk, dreading, in a way, what was ahead of us. You never become inured to scenes such as these, which were with us for the next twelve days.

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The day was very difficult…eight hours of strenuous climbing… interrupted by a lunch stop at a small village, Kakani, or what was left of it. There we met a young builder from Flagstaff, AZ, Dan Maurer, who was trekking with a guide and an Austrian friend, the purpose being to help with rebuilding. He had raised money from crowdrise and from friends and family. For three months he had been going from village to village, many to which we were headed.

 

In the backyard of the half-destroyed guest house where we ate, we became acquainted with three children, all siblings, who lived with their family in a large tent. They were playing soccer with a beat-up, half-inflated ball, which did nothing to dampen their competitiveness. It was hilarious…the way the tiny brother would try to steal the ball from his older siblings. How I wished I could have bought them a new ball. But where? There were no stores to be found.

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As we trekked from village to village in the mountains, Cary and I talked to the local Nepalis and observed, firsthand, how these people are putting their lives back together, starting in the immediate aftermath of the April earthquake. The priorities were in this order.

1 They searched for their family members, and helped the wounded and buried their loved ones.

2. They collected whatever food was available for the group and put together makeshift shelters with any salvaged material they could find.

3. They then went to work providing schools for the children.

In the next two weeks we visited four schools that were destroyed and the children housed in tin shacks or rooms built from the wood and detritus left by the quake. Education is a high priority for the Nepalese.

As we go along I shall show in pictures the results of this labor, as well as the progress in rebuilding some of the schools.

Continuing on to Sermathang we passed many stupas, most of them destroyed.

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So many impressions flooded my mind as I climbed through fog and mist, winding over clay or rocky trails beside farms and terraces, and facing exposure (scary to me) as I looked down at the fields of grain below. Even though the narrow trails are often well-worn, it’s still a challenge to me…but also part of the excitement.

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In late afternoon we approached the town of Sermathang, with some trepidation. Would there be a guest house left standing for us to stay in overnight? After seeing so many destroyed buildings, it was almost shocking to see a totally intact 3 story guest house, the Dorje. This was an example of how modern construction with concrete and steel reinforcing rods can hold up in such strong earthquake.

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We met Dan, again, at dinner. The dining room was unusually grand for a mountain guesthouse. There were benches covered with handmade Tibetan rugs, and cabinets with elaborately-carved replicas of the eight auspicious Buddhist symbols. It had been an emotionally charged day, and our exploration was only just beginning. The next day we headed toward Tarkyeghang, where we had started our trek last year.

I promise to finish this trip before summer! Already it’s early March on Whidbey Island and the town of Langley is awash in daffodils and flowering trees. It’s like New Jersey in late April. And we deserve it. We’ve had enough rain to take care of all of California with Texas thrown in….

We spent the evening before we left for the mountains with our Brazilian friends, Thiago and Otavio, both practicing Buddhists. Rosti was our Thanksgiving feast. Later, we were joined by Thuy Ngo (Tweedy, for short), a dentist from Arizona, who emigrated from Vietnam in 1982 and has expressed the desire to go with me to Mongolia this summer. Hooray! She was part of a group of dentists, mostly retired, who come to Nepal every year to volunteer in a clinic, Global Dental Relief (GDR). They work for two weeks, seven days a week. A strenuous schedule. The Shechen Guest House is home to many foreign volunteers who come to donate their services. As you can imagine, there has been an increase this year as a result of the earthquake.

Early the next morning, after fortifying ourselves with another amazing cappuccino, we took the unpaved road, or high shortcut, which defies description, over the mountain from Kathmandu to the Melamchi Valley, passing numerous destroyed houses and buildings. Rebuilding has been slow due to very little government funding. This was the beginning of our immersion in the area most damaged by the April earthquake. We stopped at the small shop in the village where we had milk tea and cookies last year. The building on one side had been destroyed, but our shop was still standing. I’ve shown this area in detail in previous posts.

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Four hours later we arrived at our starting place, a small town above Lower Melamchi.

 

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After climbing for three hours on steep switchbacks, we reached Palchowk, a cluster of houses along the road in the midst of fields and millet terraces. Their guesthouse had been destroyed, but they put us up in a room next to the kitchen, probably a family bedroom, with tin siding for walls and a fortified tarp for a roof. Needless to say, we were very grateful to find shelter! There were bags of rice in the room and quantities of tarps under the beds. A mat has been thrown over the clay floor.

Before settling in we explored the countryside. As always happens, the children crowd around us, asking our names and wanting their pictures taken. We are forever a curiosity.

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Dinner was being prepared over a typical wood fire where sticks are pushed into the flame. As we sat on our beds and smelled the redolent odors from the cooking next door, Cary said, “Well, Mom, we are now experiencing first hand how thousands of Nepali families are living after the earthquake.” Except we had sleeping bags and extra mats.

What’s left of the former guesthouse seems to be a social center. People come, drink tea, talk loudly, laugh, and have a good time. There is a small convenience store consisting of one counter and a glass cupboard. The door looks pre-earthquake. There is a tin-corrugated wall and another entrance to a kitchen/bedroom. The floors are packed red clay. A roof covers what is left of the porch, on which sit two long tables with benches. The roof is covered with tin and tarps held up by large bamboo poles.

It started to rain and everyone went scurrying to cover the harvested millet with the tarps from under our bed! Meanwhile, a beautiful dog was brought in to keep dry. In a matter of minutes he gulped down a huge plate of white rice. I never knew dogs ate rice.

We enjoyed a sumptuous dinner…after which everyone had the traditional dal, rice, and chicken pieces. The beautiful young daughter-in-law gathered up the dishes and washed them under the main waterspout in the front courtyard…in the rain.

The goats and buffalo were tethered out front. Tonight was my first taste of buffalo milk and it was wonderful…and sweet.

The smoke from the wood fire flowed into our attached room making sleep difficult. But I was too tired to worry about it for long. Tomorrow would be a long day.

We flew to Kathmandu on our favorite airline, Jet Airways, where the hostesses managed in one hour to hand out free beer and serve a meal. They are, indeed, of Olympian quality! I sat next to a man with whom I had a heated discussion about the rights of married women (in most families in India husbands still handle the finances, and wives have to give over their earnings), abortion of female fetuses by the rich, killing of unwanted newborns by the poor, and the need for social change in India. This was the first of many such discussions during the coming weeks.

Arriving in Kathmandu is like coming home. Yes, I feel as if it is my second home. We headed for our old stamping ground, the Shechen Guest House in Boudhanath, which fortunately had not been damaged. The next day began with the usual great cappuccino (as soon as the electricity was on) and our favorite entrée, cheese/potato rosti with garden vegetables. Served, I might add, at a table in on the green, surrounded by flowering bushes.

I know I repeat myself each year, but to arrive in November and find such floral beauty warms my heart. So I share a bit with you.

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In the afternoon, as we made our way to the stupa, the impact of the earthquake was immediately evident. We passed the Shechen Monastery to find the grounds torn up, the temple cracked, and several buildings completely demolished. Repair is ongoing.

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When we reached the famous stupa, the “eyes” were no longer staring at us. The top had been removed, and sections had been moved down to be repaired. Scaffolding abounded and piles of bricks lined the various levels. It may take two years to finish the reconstruction.

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We came back later in the afternoon and had a happy reunion with Pasang and his two children, Aashika (6) and Aasmika (2). You may remember that his home was destroyed last April and I wrote about it in my blog post HERE. It was wonderful to see that he was smiling, again. Nepalis are very resilient people.

I’m especially fond of Aashika and have watched her develop over the years. She is a crackerjack student. Here are a few shots of her studying. It’s amazing the work these children do and how seriously they take each subject. Today there was math and English.

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Before taking you into the mountains, let me share a few photos of our tuk tuk ride through Thamel and on to Durbar Square, one of the World Heritage sites in Kathmandu, where ancient temples and landmarks crumbled. Much of the debris has already been cleared away, so you can get a better idea of the destruction online HERE.

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I was amazed that so much of Thamel, the student hangout in Kathmandu, and the commercial areas, remained intact. I was sure the old Newari buildings, leaning against one another with their balconies jutting out over the street, would be gone, but not so.

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When we return from our trek I’ll show photos of our visit to Patan and Bhaktapur, but first, let’s get into the mountains.

How great is that! My granddaughter, Cally, and her husband presented me with a great-grandson just before Cary and I started a 12-day trek in the Himalayas in late November. I’m so thrilled and happy that all went well and my daughter, Martha, is with them through the New Year.

The high point. literally, of our month’s stay in India and Nepal, was summiting 12,500 foot Ama Yangri in the Yolmo–a grueling, steep uphill into the clouds, with a 360 degree view of the Langtang Range and surrounding mountains and valleys.

Stayed tuned for a comprehensive report on our travels and trekking. And in the meantime, have a great Christmas holiday!

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We are here at the Shechen Guest House, our favorite place to stay at Boudhanath, Kathmandu. Power is very sketchy so this is a short post. We arrived in India and stayed at the Tibetan Youth Hostel where we spent time with Tibetan students we had sponsored at the Tibetan Childrens Village in Suja, and who are now in college in Delhi.

We are about to head out to the Yolmo for an 11-day trek. While here in Boudha we are doing kora around the stupa which is now being repaired as you can see from the photos. The top part of the stupa was damaged and is being restored. The same is true of the Shechen Monastery next to the guest house. We also had a lovely visit with B. P. Shresta, an old friend from Dhulikhel. When the power is available we enjoy a delicious cappucino at the guest house.

Life is difficult here with frequent power outages, but even though there is the embargo at the Indian border severely restricting import of gasoline and cooking gas, there is a big black market where gas is available for $12 – 15/gallon.

We will share our journey upon our return Dec. 7th. The area we are visiting has been tremendously impacted by the earthquake last April. Around Boudha, there is little damage to the homes and buildings and life continues despite adversity.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. We’ll be eating dal bhat as you all enjoy turkey!

As we get ready to leave on our month-long journey to Nepal, India’s fuel and cooking gas blockade continues, causing nation-wide economic and social catastrophe. We have no idea what to expect. We have been checking the Nepali newspapers, and this editorial stands out for its analysis of the situation. Click HERE.

After a very cold night in Upper Melamchi, we made an early start. There was snow on the trail, but we arrived at the Riverside Resort Guest House in the river gorge in less than three hours. There are rocks all around the area, which have religious significance to the Buddhists, and relate, mostly, to Guru Rinpoche. Unfortunately, many of the people who know the cultural history of this valley and its migrations have died or moved away. This is too bad, since it was an oral tradition and very little has been written down for posterity.

We walked from the plateau just below the forest edge down this steep mountain slope to the bottom where the Melamchi River flows…

One of the huge rocks and a stupa in front of the guest house.

After lunch Ram started washing his hair and most of his body in the frigid stream running nearby. I could not believe it! The water must have been freezing, but that didn’t deter him or Saila from an extensive grooming process. I preferred to be warm and dirty. Sobeit.

The afternoon was spent hiking to another Guru Rinpoche Cave–a husky trek into the woods through an overgrown path.

Here is a close-up of the impression made by the Rinpoche’s hat.

After our hike, we enjoyed a fabulous meal cooked by the son of the owner (not too spicy this time). Sitting in the large kitchen, where several village men had gathered to drink homemade millet wine, we reveled in the warmth of the large wood-fed stove and enjoyed taking part in the joviality. Just before bedtime the hostess appeared with a small hand mirror and gave it to me. I had pointed to my hair, earlier, and she got the message. It’s hard for a Westerner to realize that such things as mirrors are not considered a necessary part of a guest room.

We stood on a knoll near the big rock and watched the stars. The sky was aglow, never more beautiful. It seemed as if every tiny pinprick of light was a part of a massive milky Way. Maybe it was. The picture was indelible.

Early the next morning, as we were finishing breakfast on the patio, the two adorable boys we had met two days before coming back from school returned to say goodbye, and brought with them two more children. We are, indeed, a curiosity! They were all spiffed up in their school uniforms and the boys had their hair slicked down. I noticed how they glanced periodically up the hill as if waiting for someone. And they were. We discovered that an older sister was supposed to accompany them across the river and up the hill to school. After waiting awhile, they took off across the bridge, undeterred by their heavy backpacks and metal lunch containers (probably for warm food like dal), and waving at us as they went.  You should have seen that bridge! It had missing planks and large holes in it. It was all I could do to get across it. And there they were, fairly dancing their way along.

Would you want your child to tackle that bridge? Yikes!

We followed the children and, shortly thereafter, caught up with them. What fun we all had walking to school together.

Cary going up the Primrose Path with the children.

The older sister finally arrived and spoke with us for some time. She clearly enjoyed practicing her English. As she left us, she stood at the gate of the school, turned around and said, “I am so happy today!” That smile will remain in my heart forever. A happy little girl, full of life….

The scenery as we walked along the hillside above the river and down the valley was varied–from a backyard paper-making enterprise to a fish hatchery to farmers and their wives building additions onto their houses or plowing the fields. Everybody was working very hard. We even visited a Buddhist nunnery and a famous cave of the Tibetan yogi Milarepa, arriving just minutes before a high lama and his huge contingent. The trail was initially very rocky and challenging until we made our way down closer toward the river, after which we had a relaxing walk to Thimbu, the small village where we had expected to stay overnight. But that wasn’t to be. No room at the inn. So we continued on, not know how long we would have to walk in the approaching dusk. Just down the river at another hamlet we found excellent accommodations on the roof of the River Side Guest House. Hallelujah!

Here is a slideshow capturing some of these scenes.

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Our last night at the River Side was hilarious. We were ushered into a fancy dining room as is traditional for foreign customers. Looking around at the empty room, Cary said, “Take us to where the action is!” whereupon a nonplussed owner led us to the bustling and ample kitchen that also served as a general store, with its gaggle of men, some playing stringed instruments. The cutting and chopping and cooking took our breath away and pleased our palates. What fun!

Something I noticed that had been bothering me over the  years was a cultural phenomenon I had seen elsewhere in Nepal, but had never heard overtly expressed. There is a hierarchy of service that is very evident. The guests are served first, the visitors from town second, the staff (guides and porters) third, and the owners and cooks last. And the joyousness and hospitality never stop. You ask if they make nettle soup, and they make it for you on the spot. You can order all manner of vegetable dishes and watch them be prepared with alacrity and skill.

We had an especially good time talking with the hostess about her passion for educating the girls in the community. She was proud of the fact that her father, a school teacher, had insisted that all the girls in his family be educated, despite local tradition. We also discussed the courageous Nobel prize winner, Malali, who has inspired women worldwide. She  spoke to us about the little boy who helps around the house…an orphan she and her husband have taken in and are raising as their son. Meeting hard-working people like this, who have a vision for their people and want to share ideas, is what makes travel such an inspiration.

Not only did we host an enormous spider in our room that night, but we were awakened by a mild earthquake at 11 pm. We heard the news of it the next day in Kathmandu. Heaven help us if that third floor had catapulted into the river. Everyone knew that a major earthquake was predicted, so it caused a great deal of worry and concern. And then, we all know what happened last Apil.

We took a leisurely walk to lower Melamchi where we enjoyed a good meal in the bustling bazaar. I got a kick out of a group of women who were bathing a baby, pouring pitchers of water over him and scrubbing him to within an inch of his life. He seemed to be oblivious and took the whole process in stride.

Our car arrived shortly after noon and we started on another bumpy ride over rutted roads, this time taking the high route and enjoying five hours of mountain scenery. Here are some final shots as we wound our way home and greeted our old haunts, Kathmandu and Boudhanath.

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Cary and I are off to India and Nepal on November 18. We’re filled with excitement and trepidation, but eager, as always, to return to Asia. Stay tuned….

 

Yes, I finally am sharing the end of the trek Cary and I took last December in the Helambu/Yolmo area of Nepal.  Like the rest of the world, I don’t know where the year has gone, but here I am on the cusp of a new trip to India and Nepal, where we may return to this same area. It has been greatly damaged by the earthquake of last April and we hope to be of some use, if only in bringing news and photos of the rebuilding and the need for more help from the world community. Nepal has made amazing progress in its efforts to rebuild its infrastructure. I cannot wait to report back to you the work of these valiant people.

At the end of this blog post I will share photos of Upper Melamchi right after the earthquake, from photos posted on the internet. It is shocking and it is heartbreaking.

You may remember that we had just arrived after a day-long hike to the beautiful village of Upper Melamchi, having starting that morning from Tarke Gyang.  The trail crisscrossed a road-in-progress, which the earthquake, I’ve been told, has completely obliterated. Sometimes the trail just ended and we had to climb over sandy boulders in our search for a new entrance.

I can never describe the feeling of serenity I had when I was back in the forest surrounded by trees and bushes, and climbing over crooked rocks laboriously placed along the way and weathered by years of rain, snow, and use. There were old stone walls that seemed to lead to nowhere, and ancient moss- covered stupas with overgrown, narrow paths around them.

Our first sight, when we reached the village, was that of children playing football (our soccer) in the school field near the temple.

Later we witnessed a large group of men and women standing in the courtyard of the temple. They were gathered in small groups, excitedly expounding opinions and arguing among themselves. First the women were standing on the steps and the men were in the courtyard arguing. Then they broke into groups of about five and continued in heated discussion. It was like an open-air council meeting, with each group speaking in turn through a selected spokesperson.

We could see the progress of the meeting from the porch of our guest house, The Himalayan Lama Lodge, but neither the owner, Khi-mi, his wife, Ka-mi, Ram, our guide, or Saila Tamang, our porter, seemed the least bit interested in the weighty discussion or in telling us what was transpiring. So we decided to do kora, mixing among the people as we made our way three times around the complex.

After the gathering at the temple, we watched the sun go down. This is a sight I never tire of, as I watch the sky deepen, silhouetting the trees against the mountains.

Our guest house was quite luxurious…two beds, a large window, and a western toilet down the hall. Hooray!

Needless to say it was cold as witness the snow in the morning light on the mountains and frost on the trees and the hills behind the temple.

Breakfast was a riot! Cary decided to make tsampa al la Shawo, the Tibetan student in the TCV school in Bir, who had taught her. So she mixed the roasted barley, yak butter, sugar, dried cheese, and Tibetan tea like this….

Believe me, it tasted better than the eggs I ordered. How did I know they used sugar instead of salt when they scrambled them?

The day was spent visiting the Rangjung Nyida cave, where Guru Rinpoche meditated with his consort, as well as a smaller cave, Khandro Sangphuk, the secret cave of the dakini (enlightened female). We also wandered through a protected old growth forest that made me think of a magical fairyland, several small gardens, and a backyard stone quarry where the rock was laboriously cut out of the ground and used to build houses and walls.

And what a joy it was just walking around the village! All the houses are made of stone with different designs. Some are painted and others not. Roofs are bright-colored and some are the old slate. Beautiful rock walls separate every pasture or farm and line the stone paths that make a labyrinthian pattern throughout the village. In late afternoon we drank hot milk or tea while our hostess was busy cutting up vegetables in the kitchen. Everyone else hovered around the fire, which was my favorite kind…made by pushing wood into an opening at the bottom of the stove. Here are some photos to give you a feeling for the area.

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But as we mentioned, Nepal was devastated by a massive earthquake on April 25, 2015. The Yolmo we visited no longer exists.

The temple where the community gathered in front was destroyed.

The community gathered in the meadow behind, instead of in the once beautiful prayer flagged-lined courtyard in front.

The guesthouse where we stayed was damaged.

The kitchen where we all gathered completely lost all its walls, as you can see from the tin roofing now enclosing it.

To our deep relief, Khi-mi and Ka-mi survived, their village now rubble.

   

We will be returning to Nepal on November 22nd, and hope to return to the Yolmo.