Peeling Away the Outside Layer – Part 3
Landruk – Chomrong, Nepal
By Keith Hearne
In my eyes, this just keeps getting better and better. It’s now the close of the 3rd day trekking and what a day it was. The whole feeling in the group is getting a lot more relaxed and everyone is starting to mingle and get along really well. I think the singing and drinking from last night might have had something to do with it, in my experience you feel less inhibited around someone that you’ve got drunk and had the craic with.
What I’m looking at now I’m really trying hard to find words for but I know that I’m failing miserably, it’s a bit of a cliché but there really are no words for it. I’m sitting in the courtyard of a guesthouse that is simply immaculate. I’m sure people at home would disagree, but from 10 hour bus journeys, to smelly clothes, leeches, falling down hills and sweating all day, to a clean room and showers at 7000ft, you can’t grasp it unless you’ve been there. All around me is a panoramic view of some of the highest mountains in the world. So close its like an optical illusion, everything below you fades away into the distance while these towering mountain ranges in front of you seem to float in your vision, as if you could just reach out your hand and touch them. Seems to be the only thing we can do is take some pictures for posterity and in a way its so disappointing to me. As I sit here writing and looking out at this I know no picture from a camera and none of my words can do this any sort of justice. I know that I won’t be able to bring this in its full entirety and scale back home. It’s definitely something that will be etched in my memory forever and I wish I could bring it back to everyone else to share but osmosis is the only way of taking this in. I can only sit back and soak it all up.
What I’m trying to describe is me sitting on a low wall in a courtyard with a flower bed in front of me, a sweet summer scent drifting on the light breeze while I overlook the roof tops of some guest houses and pathways that are weaved into the tapestry of the valley below me. The valley itself reminiscent of somewhere like Kerry where you get so many different hues of green on the hillsides that its hard to imagine there being that many shades of the one colour. But this is not Kerry and couldn’t be anywhere in Ireland due to the shear height. The valley itself would be breathtaking enough for anyone but it just pales into insignificance when you look directly ahead at your horizon and what’s in front of you. I’m looking at a range of countless peaks and ridges far above the valley floor; peak upon peak folding over themselves and intertwined like ridged skin on the hide of an elephant. They just keep stretching back like a line of regimental soldiers, reaching out towards Annapaurna to the left-hand side just standing solitary guard. There are very few sounds of local people being carried on the air, a baby crying, some birds, and there is a tranquil even settling quality to the crisp fresh air that I’m breathing in. There is nothing here that could contain the sounds, the shape from the bottom up to the highest peaks is sort of like a cone or seashell like chasm, and nothing but sky to hold the mountains as they stretch up into the heavens.
Annapaurna South and Machhapuchhre, or the Fishtail with their snow capped ridges and peaks are submerged in the cloud above. This may sound a bit wishy washy or hippy but it is close to spiritual, and I’m not of the spiritual variety myself. It’s at least the most spiritual and possibly reflective I’ve been in years. Just as I write this and in the space of the last two minutes the clouds have pulled in around us and the peaks in front, swallowing the valley below in a blanket of white. Within a minute at this height everything can change and you can see nothing. You’re at the total mercy of whatever it is that’s out there, that makes this all so beautiful. Every few minutes the view totally changes. It’s compelling, impulsive and exciting to be here. We’re actually right in the cloud now. Annapaurna is enthralling, there are two peaks that are sitting either side of its snowy ridges and it’s like a doorway to something sacred with two great protectors on either side.
Today we came from Landruk, which is at 5400ft, coming all the way down to 4400ft crossing rope bridges, waterfalls and rivers to start what’s been the biggest climb so far in the trek. At one point after dinner we looked down on Jhinu where we had stopped and you could see the river literally cutting a path through the valley. I remember thinking how it must have taken hundreds of years to wriggle its way round every fold. Its seems like to cover ground here you have to go down to go up, so even though it might be 20 miles on the map you could actually be covering double that. Just below Chomrong where we are now we passed through some teahouses and took some photos with a gorgeous Nepalese child called Santos and probably her mother Deeba. This is what I came here for and this is what it’s all about – spectacular views, remote places and remarkable people. We were dead lucky to reach here when we did and take in the views for a short time because now there’s nothing but a see of mist in front of me. I hope we have a clear view in the morning so we can add another memory to the melting pot.
One of the girls in the group, Fiona, who is a teacher by profession is picking up bits of the language as we go along.
“Suba Ratri” – goodnight
“Ruru” – good
“Danu Baht” – Thank You
“Namaste” – welcome, thanks, goodbye.
These are just some of the words picked up along the way and tonight during our Nepalese entertainment.
Our Sherpa Nima organized for a group of the villagers to come along and play music for us while the women did some traditional Nepalese dancing.
There were a few traditional Nepalese instruments such as a madal, which is a two sided drum and an accordion like piano that you pull and squeeze at the back while you play it. The dance is sort of oriental mixed with belly dancing without the bellies. There is a lot of hand movements and wrist turning. There was some confusion also weather the hand movements meant something in particular as at one point when one of the girls got up and started to dance one of the Nepalese women stopped as if she had been insulted. Nima and Rabi his brother really got into it all as well, Nima seeming reluctant to be pulled out in the limelight at first and then he wouldn’t sit down. Giving it loads of hips and hands, like a Nepalese John Travolta burning up the floor. Then gradually the people got us all up to dance and try our hand at a bit of their style of dancing and it was quiet good fun. Sarah and Fiona got well into it and seemed to take to it pretty quickly while others didn’t.
I think someone had the bright idea then of us doing Irish dancing for them in return, sound provided by the humming and la-la-ing of all involved. The girls lead me in what I think was ‘The Walls of Limerick’, which was real entertaining because I didn’t have a clue what I was up to. Then the ‘Siege of Ennis’ went down a treat and Fiona sang ‘Danny Boy’ both in Irish and in English, which sounded excellent resonating through the valley. There was the crisp, fresh air and the huge Annapaurna range behind us, and here we were high up the mountains of Nepal with the local people having an amazing time and Fiona’s voice just hauntingly echoing round the valley. After this we danced some more and the women presented us with flower garnets. They were so welcoming and it was so nice to be a part of. The garnets were much better then the ones we received on the bus at Kathmandu airport – real fragrant and colourful flowers.
Nima explained how it’s sort of a tradition known as “the welcome of the olive tree”, a sort of homage to when the tree starts to blossom again and bares fruit, or rather olives.
The locals played and danced for about 2 hours or maybe more and we paid them the grand sum of 20 dollars. This was the recommended figure as laid down by Nima. I’m not really too sure about why there is such a limit but I’m sure if it was enough for about 20-30 people that it is a sufficient amount. It just seems like such a small sum to us. Not really sure how to quantify it though, or of how much that would get local people in Nepal, but from most accounts I’ve heard it seems to be plenty of money to these people. Later a few of us were trying to learn the words to ‘Reeshem Phiri Ree’ one of the Nepalese songs. I’m sure Fiona will have it by the end of the trek.
Before the festivities and shortly after dinner, the night sky cloud cover cleared, the moon came out and we could see Annapaurna towering above us, as well as the peak of Machhapuchhre. I think tomorrow is to be another tough enough one, full of leeches.
Read Part 4
