2nd Avenue Delhi

I arrived in the hippy Paharganj area of Delhi around 6 pm. In the airport, I was instructed by another American traveler to allow myself 8 hours to chill out in each new place. Traveling by itself can be exhausting, and I have just been transported to a bustling city or foreign smells and sounds. I successfully got to my bath-included room at the Metropolis Hotel, and called it a day.

I woke up early the next day, and walked the empty Main Bazaar streets on my Paharganj neighborhood. My impression of India pretty much matched my expectations: emaciated cows freely roamed the streets, dogs lay asleep amid trash and excrement, and shops had graffiti on their metal-locked doors. But soon, the city came to life. Storekeepers shooed away the animals and cleaned up the trash that accumulated through the night. By 8, street vendors were serving fresh breakfast breads and porridge served in leaf bowls. School children in western uniforms piled onto bicycle rickshaws, and headed to school.

I hailed a motor-rickshaw to Jama Masjid, Delhi's largest mosque, a huge courtyard and temple of pink-limestoned minarettes and domes. Then, I went to the Red Fort, actually the royal palace for the Shah dynasty, built in the 1600s by Shah Jahan (same builder of Taj Mahal). The complex includes: a personal shopping mall, private mosque, baths, irrigated water cooling system, pantheon for entertainment and dances, Italian marbled throne. Everything is squared, symmetrical, and incredibly detailed, incorporating the many elements of Hindu, Muslim, Arabic, and Mughal style.

A very persistent bicycle rickshaw, Depok, offered his services to take me around the city. We drove to a 1,000 year old Jain mosque of gold and marble, Connaught Place (shopping circle), and the Spice Market! Through the narrow, winding streets carts carried barrels of red chiles and sacks of cloves and pistachios. Men when hunched over grinding whole seeds into powder with a marble cylinder and slab. Everyone was coughing and sneezing because of the spicy air, polluted by colorful powders of coriender, chilli, curry, and cumin. I wandered into a small stall, ran by friendly Vijay and his teenage son. He motioned me to sit down and offered me handfuls of cashews, dates, and raisins. You likee? I loved everything! I tasted garam marsala (a spice I have never heard of!), pink anisse, raw ginger, walnuts, and a million other things I will never know the names of!

I finally got rid of Depok. I think he would have driven me to Dharamsala, if I asked him. He freshened up at the hotel, and then booked it to "Dances of India." For about $4, I saw gorgeous dancers perform the various traditional dances. In one, the girl danced on top of various items, all while balancing 7 tiered hats (dull blades, broken glass, balanced on the lip of a metal bowl, 2 drinking glasses). After, I came back to the hotel and enjoyed a relaxing dinner in its peaceful rooftop restaurant. What a day!

The Top

Monday 10/31

I couldn't sleep last night. At dinner, we spoke about tomorrow plan of attack. Since we spent an extra day in Dole, we lost a day at the peak of our itinerary. Instead of being able to complete both Kalapatar and Everest Basecamp, we had to decide on one or the other. Basecamp, although it sounds more impressive, is no great shakes. There is no view of the mountain; and since it isn't Everest climbing season, there isn't more than a few crashed helicopters on site. On the other hand, Kalapatar is 500 ft above basecamp and has the best views of Everest and its surrounding peaks. The boys chose Kalapatar, but I was troubled that I had traveled this distance and would not be able to complete the goal that I had set for myself. I made up my mind that I would achieve the impossible task of completing both Basecamp and Kalapatar in one day.

Passan, the head guide, and I left camp around 7 am, heading for basecamp. No time for rests, we made it over the narrow sandy ridge, the blackened boulders, and the graveled glaciers to the warned, anti-climatic basecamp. As promised, nothing was there except for some empty oxygen tanks, 2 fallen helicopters, and giant glacial formations. After quickly taking a few pictures, Jam Jam! (Let's Go!) and we were off to the next destination. Passan said that he thought there was a short cut, even though he had never done it before. I trusted his advice and we climbed up and other the sandy ridge, instead of following our original path. But as we pulled ourselves to the top, another ridge fell before us. Then another. And then another. Before, my watched read that we were well ahead of schedule, but now, time seemed to pass faster and faster, and I feared that I wouldn't be able to reach the top of Kalatpatar 3, so that I would be down at camp before dark. I became bitter, and even had to teach Passan a new English word: cranky! You know, when a 3 year old child doesn't have a nap. Four ridges later, Passan and I landed halfway up Kalapatar: a short-cut as promised! With one step in front of the other, I managed to make it up to the top of Kalapatar (meaning black rock) at 18,700 ft. Utterly exhausted, I saw the prized view of Everest and it was all worth it!

Wednesday 11/2

Ahh. Going down is so much easier than going up. With just a little knee ache, from tiring basecamp/Kalapatar conquest, we arrived in Tengboche by 3. Home of the largest Tibetan Buddhist monastery, we sat in on prayer services in the beautifully painted temple. Monks chanted from their long and narrow scrolls, younger monks burned incense, and foreigners watched not really understanding but loving the experience just the same.

Thursday 11/3

We revisited Namche Bazzar on our way down. The Nepalese celebrated the Diwali festival: the sister and brother holiday. With dotted foreheads, people decorated their homes with marigold garlands, drank beer, and danced in the streets with family and friends. Busy taking pictures, Dad was even invited into a home for dancing and music. He came back to our camp for lunch, with a marigold lei, a painted forehead, and a beer!

Friday 11/4

After a bittersweet day of hiking, we arrived back in Lukla for a farewell dinner. We visited Porter's Progess, a volunteer organization that serves as an advocate for the poor Nepalese who work as packers for the tourist industry. They come from the poorest areas of the country, and are most often exploited for cheap labor, and carry as much as 100 pounds on their backs, up high peaks! I thought the hike was difficult with just a day pack! Some of them get frost bitten toes, trekking through snow fields, with only Ked-like shoes. Others break their necks, carrying heavy baskets that are braced over their foreheads. We all tried to be as generous as we could: Dad gave away his Asolo hiking boots, and we showered them with Pringles, candy, Mt. Everest Whiskey, balloons, socks, and extra big tips. Throughout the trip, we were always aware of their hard life: they slept in caves, while we were in tents. They ate Dal-Bat (rice and lentils), while we ate yak, vegetables, and fresh bread. We assumed that they were used to their lifestyle, and we were encouraged to forget their hardships and enjoy our trip. Now that the trip is practically over, we all wish that we had been more compassionate all along.

For the first of many banquets, we bought four bottles of the Mt. Everest whiskey! By the end of the night, I was winning in poker and David was singing his slurred rendition of "Let the Good Times Roll!" But, by morning.... David and I were doubled over with a Everest-sickness. I was sick throughout the night, but managed to contain myself on the airplane ride from Lukla to Katmandu. Luckily, Dad stole one of the Airplane Sickness Bags from the plane, because I needed it on the Runway Taxi! Finally, we drove back into civilization, full of toilet paper, cushioned breakfast chairs, paper-wrapped bar soap, hot showers, bottled water, buffet lines, and laundry service!

To Everest Basecamp

Saturday 10/22.
We left Khumjung (12,400 ft) this morning. The elders took the low path (I'll take the high road, and you take the low road is becoming a very popular song on this trip), and I climbed up and over the high path with chef Mohan as my guide. I asked him how to say some simple phrases and words, but this happy-go-lucky sherpa wouldn't drop the Nepali lessons! I didn't want to be rude, and I couldn't pass up this opportunity to learn another language. So, for three hours, I learned: "Kilpiah tato chya denuse?" (May I have some hot tea?) "Es ko kati?" (How much does it cost?) Mula ( I never forget that one!) = turnip, cowli = cabbage/colliflower, ganaja (not to be confused with Ganja!) = carrot. Now, at every meal, he is always teaching me more: roti=bread, dude=milk, and he won't serve me unless I answer him with a Nepali thank you, danya bad!

Once we arrived in Portsetenga around 3, everyone took out a book or cards. I pulled out my yarn and needles and began to knit. All the locals looked at me with confusion, as if only the Nepalese know how to knit!

Even though we are camping in tents, we spend most of our time in local teahouses. Nights are getting pretty cold, (30 degrees) so we will pay a small fee and are able to rest in their heated lodges. As a Sagarmatha National Park law, it is illegal to burn firewood, so the locals burn cow dung for fuel. I was wondering why I saw dung pancakes sun-drying all over rocks! I learned that a cow/yak makes over 1,000 ppounds of waste everyday, and getting rid of the shit is most laborious task on their farms and the most instrumental to their health: for clean water and for fuel.

Monday 10/24

We spent an extra night in Dole (13,250 ft) because our guide Albert isn't feeling well. He didn't get more than 12 hours of rest between guiding trips, and he has contracted the notorious Khumbu cough. The combination of dust, dry air, and rigorous hiking leaves Sherpas and frequent travelers with violent coughing and chest congestion. Lately, my earplugs have been more for the coughs spewing from the other tents, rather than Dad's snoring. We are worried about our guide's health and if he will be able to go on. We still have over 5,000 feet to ascend. In the adjacent campsite, there was a German man with HAPE (High Altitude Pulmonary Edema). We had to get him into our pressure-sealed Gamoff bag, so that his body would feel as if it were at a lower elevation. After two hours he was able to walk down to the next town. The only cure for altitude sickness is to descend. With these two sicknesses, we all realized the serious medical effects of altitude. We hope that we will be able to reach Basecamp.

Tuesday 10/25

We arrived in Machermo (14,600 ft) this afternoon, and there's been some rumbly in my tumbly. After dinner, I was sipping some black tea when an implosion in my stomach was imminently causing an explosion in my pants! I ran out of the teahouse lodge, but soon realized that I was without a headlamp! I didn't have time to run back into the dining area to borrow someone else's, but I couldn't see past a few feet on my own boots! Nervously dancing in place, I was able to steal a flashlight for one of our kitchen boys, we was about to clear the dinner table. I ran towards our toilet tent, being careful to to drip on any twine than staked our tents to the ground. The tent was in sight! It can't be! Seven cows, in line head to tail, slowly marched in front of the tent, blocking my way. Again, I'm dancing in place, counting each one as they pass, and hoping to god that I don't shit in pants in the process. As I am waiting for the last one to pass, the enormous cow rips right through the tent, tearing out the stakes until the entire closure collapses! Whining and squirming, I am unable to burrow into the collapsed tent. With no other choice, I finally found relief from a rock and the darkness. My appreciation for electrified western-style bathrooms have just infinitely multiplied!

Thursday 10/27

Our rest day in Gokyo was anything but leisurely. Known as the resort town of the Khumbu region, Gokyo is set beside a crystal-blue lake, lined with snow-dusted peaks. We hiked up the smallest mound, Gokyo Ri, a 2000 feet ascent. It took us 3 hours to climb up, but the view was well worthwhile. We saw Amadablam, Everest, Nuptse, Lutse, and many other 22,000+ft peaks.

Discomfort is starting to set in. David is sick with a fever and was unable to climb Gokyo Ri with the rest of us. Many of us have coughs and congestion. Hiking days are getting longer and more arduous: the Cho La Pass meant hours of climbing up and over enormous piles of frozen boulders. Temperatures are getting into the teens at night, and we haven't had showers in over 10 days! I'm just thankful that stomach has settled!