The day of resettling to another village was the time when I was physically ready to give up, to lay on the ground and to let moss grow over me. Having my personal fight with the surrounding I begged for mercy, and so we got it - the miracle.
After couple of months it was the time to change the main village. When it came to the mean of reaching the new place we had faced several
contrasting options as usually. Taking a vehicle would mean spending two full
days of waiting, sitting in the uncomfortable jeep for hours, walking, waiting
and driving again. And so we thought we rather walk. As usual.
This time
we both agreed that we want to have a porter, because we were moving out from
Phalaichha, coming back only in autumn (during the season of holidays-Dasai and
Tihar) and so we needed to carry all our belongings taken for several months and seasons. Giving the heaviest part to
the porter who was very much behind in time we were still carrying quiet heavy
backpacks, not willing to trust a porter our valuables like computers, cameras
and countless cables.
People told us different things-some said it would take us
3 hours, the porter convinced that he would reach the destination in a slow walk
within 6 hours. Unfortunately we couldn't have started moving from early
morning but only after lunch. We sort of partially knew the road and we hoped
to reach the new house within the same day before it gets dark.
How illusionary
it was.
We started
our climbing up quiet enthusiastically and all the directions “up, very steep
up” we took very easily, enjoying our strength. Finally we reached the house where
we stayed last time three months ago; this time refusing offer to stay there again. We
wanted to go as far as we could that day.
That was
already 3 hours of going just steep up and we passed the last settlement.
In
front of us was just dense forest and even steeper and steeper road, made mostly
from the roots of huge trees. I’ve written already about this Forest, but I
will do it again-it is alive and it is magical. Trees seemed to be there since the birth of the
earth, protecting their nativeness from all the random walkers. Shapes of the trees were far from normal, some
really huge trees were fallen; in some others were holes just in the bottom,
and all of them reminded alive personages from the fairy tale, being ready to
start speaking. I remember how I felt in
this forest last time-very hard and desperate. And that’s how I felt also few
months after.
My energy
was suddenly out. No houses or change in the road, just 5 hours up the bad
way up. Every step was harder and harder and I needed more and more often
breaks. Sunil would just always say “only another 5 minutes and we reach the
top”, but there were no end of the mountain. I looked at the watch- 17:20. We
have another 40 minutes before it gets dark. Forest! Help us to reach the house
soon! I was whispering my prayers to those invisible ones, who were trapping us
deeper and deeper in the forest.
Instead of showing us houses roads were giving us more splits and every time we were more and more scared
to take a decision facing the risk of getting lost in the forest at night.
I was
really exhausted. Normally in every trek it’s normal to feel tired and walk
over your limits. But this time it was more than that. I really could not climb
up anymore. I took a rest after every step and even a sudden sound of a passing
big animal didn’t scare me. I didn’t know who it was but I asked-please, come
and eat me, I cannot walk anymore.
At last we
entered the small open area and took a picture of a wonderful red sunset. The
moon jumped on the sky very fast and soon after we were forced to turn on the
lights. That meant we lost the game, with the light we could see only a step in
front of us, which meant a high risk of losing the hardly visible trail in the
forest and not recognizing the house. On the other hand-did we have a chance of
finding a house in this dense forest? There was still no end of this mountain
and even if it was-we wouldn’t see it.
-I have a
lighter and a knife. We can make a fire- I said, knowing that that would not be
enough. We didn’t have any clothes with us and freezing hands signalized that
we are quite high and we desperately need a shelter.
Please, I
cannot walk anymore. I really really can’t anymore. My legs were falling
and only my broken trekking sticks were holding my exhausted body.
-Is it a
roof of a house up there? -Sunil asked.
It rather
looks like a shed for kettle. Even though the “mirage” of a roof was very close
up the hill, it was still up though and there was no trail leading to that. The light was not reaching to understand what it is.
Aaay! We
screamed. No answer. We started to walk.
Heeeeeeyyyyy!
I screamed again, using all the strength of my voice. And the answer came!
Now
believing in our luck we started fast climbing up through the bushes, holding
to this man’s voice as a sinking man catches anything, hoping it could keep him
on the surface.
That was a got
(a shed) of a lonely herder, living there with his 25 cows 1-2 hours away from any
other house. For me that house was a miracle. (Actually later we found out that the next "house" would be within couple of hours of reach only in direction we were not about to take)
 |
| A "got"- a house of a lonely herder |
Herders usually spend in their sheds without going home at least 6 months a year. Usually they change their settlements few times, going higher every time it is getting hotter. Some of
the herder would reach up to 4000 m above the sea level. They would rarely go
home to see their families, but when they are low, their family members would
time to time come to help or to bring some things.
And here it
was-a simple bamboo house, having inside a fire, few utensils, buffalo skin to
sleep on and many blankets.
 |
| A house inside |
A very picturesque man with long mustache
immediately offered us to sit here. Tears of gratitude and relief filled my eyes. As we found out from our
map and his explanation-we have reached Lahasune, which meant that within not a
full day we inclined 1500 meters. Even though it was still below 3000, it is still usually not wise to go so much up. No doubts I wanted to be eaten than to climb
even more!
The man was
Gurung (one ethnicity of Nepal) and as it usually happens with indigenous
people-they are very careful at the beginning, starting to open themselves very
slowly. We sat on the clay floor, feeling the coolness of the weather.
The door of this house was just another carpet of bamboo and there were so many
holes that having a shed would hardly make it any warmer comparing with outside. But
there was a big fire and after milking the cows the man agreed to make us food.
Finally we even got a blanket to sit on and the tea.
I could
observe this place closer now. It was a highest level of simplicity. The man
lives almost on the top of the hill just with his cows. And he has nothing in
there-apart from few things for the kitchen, one backpack and blankets there is
really really nothing more. Actually nothing more was needed-having a bag with
a computer and other technical things seemed so silly. Why would I need them?
Why would I need them at all? The eyes of the cow standing in front were so
calm and peaceful and I knew that lonely herder knows the life much better than
I do with my degrees and endless ways of searching for truth and
self-realization.
After the
food I got my “bed” arranged - a log was covered with a blanket and that was
my pillow. On the clay floor was put another blanket and that was my mattress.
And then I got few more blankets to cover myself. They were stinking and I
couldn’t avoid thinking that they stink of a pee. But I was so happy for that.
I was also happy for sleeping so close to the fire that I could burn my hand if
I stretch it. I was happy for everything.
If only
that wasn’t so cold. Closing the eyes with a smile didn’t work. The sleep
didn’t come and slowly the cold from the earth were entering my bones making me
shaking cold. I was “controlling” the fire non-stop, putting more firewood and
blowing for it not to disappear. It didn’t work. Rolling from one side to another, folding myself several time to preserve heat also didn't work.
At last I woke up Sunil and
asked for one extra blanket from his “pillow”, he was kind to give me even his
jacket. The tiredness would finally be stronger than anything else and I would
fall asleep, waking up though every half an hour from cold, signalizing that
the fire is almost gone. Just like in the very past when a woman needed to keep
the fire from disappearing.
Slowly the
morning was coming and its warmth made my sleep stronger, being interrupted
only by seeing through half closed eyes the herder who was making a real fire
and starting preparing the morning tea. The body hurt from walking and sleeping
on the clay floor and from the necessity to put myself in a smallest size. I looked outside still not willing to get up. A
head of a beautiful cow was looking at me, but outside was white-there was snow
on the earth.
After
drinking several cups of tea we asked how much money we shall give to the
herder for the yesterday’s food. He didn’t want to take anything. Here it is
always like that – those who don’t have anything, they just share everything they have for free.
Our rescue would never be able to be evaluated with money, but we fell like at
least this is the way how to express our gratitude, especially taking into
account how hard it is to get rice for him to this area.
As much as
we were walking up yesterday, that much we were going down next day. Going
steep down is also not easy, especially after my toe nails had started breaking
apart and every touch to my small toes was causing annoying strong pain.
Sometimes I was even trying to walk sideways, trying to change the pressure of
shoes. At that moment I've decided to buy the best pair of trekking shoes I can find in Kathmandu.
 |
| Me going sideways in order to prevent pain of toes |
Actually due to this pain I was so happy when we needed to go up again! Up, up, up... And here it was-new village. Prangbung. How will it be?
