Jana's Year Abroad

Ashram: Part 2 of 2

04/15/2014

Our chanting class was learning how to chant in either Hindi or Sanskrit. The language was a challenge, but there was also a unique melody to each song. The Hindi words weren't nearly as difficult as the Sanskrit, though. I don't think I ever got to the point where I was pronouncing the words without following someone else's cues. Minus the constanants and vowels pieced together in patterns I've never seen before, they were long words, some with 15 letters, and it seemed, to me, that the sounds for certain letters were left out completely, or paired letters made sounds I never would have guessed. It must have been my untrained ears, but the first week was really a lesson in mumbling that I tried to pass off as song.

Our teacher informed us that we were each going to be singing in turn and needed to have a couple of songs that we were familiar enough with to be able to sing in front of the class. I like to sing as much as the next person, but I prefer it to be in my car or maybe the shower. Definitely not in front of 140 people and a microphone. Lucky for me, Devesh helped me pick out two, four line chants and learn the melodies. I got to have the chant book in front of me, so I didn't even have to memorize them. My number (we were each given a number at the beginning of the course) was never randomly called, though, so I never had to show off my lack of talent to the ashram :)

The chanting, in all fairness, did get easier. We chanted at each morning and evening Satsung and at the beginning and end of each class and lecture, so we were constantly hearing the words and their pronunciation. By the end of the month I had actually memorized portions of the daily chants we repeated several times a day. Here's a glimpse of some of what we sang in Hindi:

Jaya Ganesa jaya Ganesa jaya ganesa pahi mam
Sri Ganesa sri Ganesa sri Ganesa raksa mam

Saravanabhava Saravanabhava Saravanabhava pahi mam
Subrahmanya Subrahmanya Subrahmanya raksa mam

and part of our opening prayer in Sanskrit:

Gajananam Bhutaganaadi Sevitam
Kapitta Jambu Phala Sara Bhakshitam
Uma Sutam Shokavinasha Karanam
Namami Vigneshvara Pada Pamkajam

Yeah… it came out of my mouth as a jumbled mess too. But, For all of the confusion, chanting really was an enjoyable part of the program. There were always miniature drums and belled instruments floating around, so there was a lot of accompaniment and swaying going on.

Here's the lot of us chanting at an evening satsung -

While I did, for the most part, enjoy the chanting, I liked the Philosophy and Bhagavad Gita classes much more. Philosophy covered everything from the history of the founder, Swami Sivananda and his disciple Swami Vishnudevananda to what yoga is, what it's benefits are, how to achieve them, meditation, vegetarianism, the philosophy of karma and reincarnation and even anatomy. Most of these concepts were Hindu based, and we got an understanding of the religion and culture as well as Sivananda Yoga. The philosophy classes, however, did come with homework every night. At the end of each lesson, in our books, was a set of questions we'd have to answer. They weren't ever terribly difficult, but I griped and groaned anyway :)

I struggle with meditation, but recognize the benefits and would love the clearer, more focused, less scattered brain it provides. We started each morning by sitting for 15 to 30 minutes, before the sun rose, on rolled up yoga mats or meditation pillows trying to focus on the singular thought of our mantra. At first, all I could focus on was the physical discomfort my body was in, my back specifically. I couldn't sit five minutes without it beginning to ache. I'd attempt to meditate for as long as possible and then pull my knees into my chest to rest my back and wait out the rest of the time until the chanting began. I had a teacher who said that none of us, including herself, were actually meditating; we were all trying to meditate. I think that's an accurate description.The mind has an awful lot of background chatter. Getting it to focus on one thing, and one thing only, takes a substantial amount of practice. I didn't even come close for more than a few seconds at a time. It didn't help that we were always on the the floor. Morning satsung, both of the lectures and both of the meals were on the floor. We literally spent hours, each day, on the floor without anything to rest our backs against. It took some getting used to, but I did, for the most part, get used to it. By the end of the course, I could make it through twenty minutes of meditation (that doesn't sound like a lot, but try it some time) before my knees started to bother me and back cried out for a rest.

There's a lake across the street from the ashram and even though there was a sign warning about crocodiles, my first Friday I went to the morning yoga class and then went to the lake to enjoy a dip (no one had ever actually seen a crocodile there). The water wasn't cold, but it was cooler than the ambient temperature and it did feel good to just relax in. The weekend our course started coincided with the Holi Festival (Festival of Colors) in India. We didn't do the traditional bonfire the night before, but we did have lots of colored powder mixed into water to throw all over each other. Everyone was fair game and anyone in the area came out colored in red, yellow, green, blue and a mix of all of the above. It didn't come out of clothes and it left your skin dyed for a few days before it faded, even if you scrubbed with soap and water. That had been my first introduction to the lake, to try and wash off what I could of the paint. It didn't really work and I still have a tie dye looking shirt that I haul around with me to prove it. There wasn't enough time during the regular days to sneak away and swim, so I never got in the water as often as I wanted to. I spent my other three free Fridays taking a trip to Trivandrum, Kovalam and exploring the jungle and a waterfall near the Ashram. Trivandrum was my first experience in an Indian city. We took a bus out and spent the day walking around, eating delicious Indian food and exploring a seven story department store. The colors... Amazing. So vibrant. Nothing in India is dull. I don't think they could made a dull piece of clothing if they tried. There were several of us that went so it was also fun to get to know everyone outside the Ashram setting. Kovalam was the day before our exam and we lugged our books and materials with us to study while staring out at the beach. We found ourselves a little cafe that boasted Westen breakfasts and filled up on Cappucinos, Indian spiced coffee, and eggs, none of which we could get at the ashram. That egg was the one and only non-veg food I had during my lacto-vegetarinan (dairy allowed) stay at the ashram. I'd resolved to embrace the culture, including the diet, to get the full experience, but seeing eggs on the menu I couldn't resist. And, it was the fullest I felt probably that entire month :) Yes, there is protein in vegetables. No, it didn't keep me full. The jungle trek was an Ashram sponsored trip that included a boat ride, some jungle walking and swimming, and lounging at a waterfall. The 25 or so of us that signed up were all up and at the lake at six to catch the boat that would take us an hour and a half to our destination. We got to watch the sun rise on the water and it turned out that one of the yoga vacationers on the boat was from Prague. He'd emigrated to the US around the same time my family had, but ended up in California rather than Utah. He's a physical therapist and was trying to bring the practice and healing of yoga back to his patients. Hearing his memories and stories of moving made the hour and a half go by quickly. When we got to the right island, we each grabbed something from off the boat to carry and started the two hour walk. Kerala is hot and humid, so about ten minutes in we were all sweaty and nothing sounded better than a dip in some water. We got there, cooled off in the water and finally had breakfast. We ate our rice, sweet curry and banana on a banana leaf and washed it down with some masala chai. We were there most of the day, so we alternated between lying on the grass/rocks/sandy shore and getting into the water. I had to teach my very first class the next day, as did a few others in the group, so those of us got together and studied. Even with having to study for the exam, it was a nice way to take a break from the ashram and its demanding schedule.

There were other things that broke up the monotony of the daily schedule. There was a talent show every Saturday night that always involved a lot of singing and dancing. I got to hear all the Hindi songs at the top of the charts and see some dance moves from the newest Bollywood movies. There were two brothers, yoga vacationers, who had some kind of acrobatic show and we watched them bend themselves into all sorts of intricate knots and walk on their hands down the steps of the stage, all the way across the length of it and back up the steps on the other side. Lots and lots of talent at that ashram. A couple of the evening Satsung's were cut back to include a movie (on one of the Swami's or the benefits of vegetarianism) or we were given an hour to finish homework, review our asanas before teaching or study for the upcoming exam. We also had cultural shows once a week. We saw a traditional play the first week and traditional bands, with traditional instruments, from the surrounding areas, the next three weeks. The play was all men, dressed up in costume and made up with makeup using bright colors and lots of dancing to tell a story of the Gods. One of the band nights ended in a dance party and almost everyone, including myself, got up and mimicked whatever Indian dance moves were going on around us.

The people were the saving grace of the ashram, especially on the roughest of days. There was that sense of community that comes from everyone following the same program. We all helped each other with the poses (and everything else). It's funny how one word on how to shift your weight or adjust yourself slightly can make the difference between a proper headstand or falling over backwards. Everyone had their own, unique story and reason for coming. Some of us just came for the experience, not necessarily to teach. Some were teaching as soon as they left. There were people from all over India and all over the rest of the world. There were a few Americans, some Australians, New Zealanders, Canadians and Europeans, too. The course was in English and almost everyone spoke it. I was lucky enough to get to know a few people well and even see several of them after I left the Ashram. Marie, my roommate, was wonderful. I wish she lived in the states rather than England because I think we'd have a lot of fun together in normal, non-ashram life. Devesh, a Delhi native and a travel agent who could arrange anything and everything, was nice enough to let me be his guest at a wedding in Delhi. The friends and family I met couldn't have been any more inviting and the wedding was amazing (don't worry, it'll have its very own post). I saw Luis, Anand, Emily and Katerine again in Dharamshala and they're probably the reason I stayed so long. We spent hours together in cafes and exploring the towns and surrounding mountains. Luis and I took a bus from Dharamshala to Amritsar and visited the Golden Temple and the Pakistan/Indian border to watch the changing of the guards ceremony. He put up with me dragging him all over the mountains in Dharamshala, and then my grumpiness when we got to Amritsar and were back in the heat and noise (I have to take heat and noise in doses). We were instantly good friends; one of those people you've known forever even if you haven't really. Anand, the group joker, always, always, always had a smile and some good travel advise. It's one of those great smiles that stretches to every corner of his face and you can't help but smile along with him. Biggest grin ever. We all had the ashram in common, but even more than that, we spent time together simply because we enjoyed each others company. It was the first time I spent more than a few days in the same place and it was rejuvenating (and comforting) to get to know people based on more than what you could cram into a few hours.

All such different people. All such different backgrounds. One incredibly interesting mix.

Whether or not we passed the course depended on our attitudes, how we did in the yoga class, how we did teaching and, finally, whether or not we passed the written exam. The written exam covered what we'd learned about the fundamentals of yoga, our founder, anatomy, the Bhagavad Gita, the sequence of the asanas and anything else that was deemed important. If I remember correctly, there were somewhere around 130 short answer questions. The Friday of the exam, we woke up and were given breakfast after satsung. We were taking the exam in place of the morning yoga class, so we needed a little brain food. We ate the bowl of fruit and oats on the roof of the dining hall. After that, we were called into the main hall in numerical order and sat a few feet away from our neighbor. I think the test took me just over two hours, and there were a few things that I didn't know or left blank, but for the most part, the info had been pounded into our head enough that, to a certain extent, it was mostly there (yay for partial credit).

After all the points were counted and everything else considered, we found out that we had all passed the course. We were given our certificates and had a celebratory dinner in honor of ourselves, where the teachers served us a special Indian meal and goodies we hadn't yet had, or had only had rarely.

And then, somehow, four weeks had gone by and we were done. I thought a lot, during the course, about how overwhelming it could be and how to make it less so. I think, though, that's kind of the way it has to be. There's a lot of information to cram into that month and other than extending the course, which is already a month long, the two a day practice, classes and constant repetition are the best way to make sure everyone walks away with the knowledge needed to be a good Sivananda teacher. Some days still sucked, though. You were constantly on the go and I really was sore everywhere, all the time. For all that, it was a great introduction to India, Hinduism and the Indian culture. I made some friends I know I'll have for life, even if we don't see each other often and, just like I wanted, I can unroll my mat anywhere and guide myself to that peaceful energy that yoga provides me. Who knows, maybe one day i'll be helping provide it to other people as well.

Win all around.

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Ashram, Part 1 of 2

03/16/2014

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The Sivananda Ashram. Where to even begin?

The days here were pretty structured -

5:20 - Wake up
6:00 - 7:30 - Morning Satsung - silent meditation, chanting and prep (schedule and talk) for the day
7:30 - Morning Chai
8:00 - 9:45 - Morning Asana (Yoga) class
10:00 - Breakfast/Lunch
10:45 - 11:45 - Karma yoga (service at the ashram)
12:00 - 1:00 - Chanting (first half of the course) or Bhagavad Gita class (second half)
2:00 - 3:30 - Main lecture (Philosophy, Hinduism, Anatomy, etc)
4:00 - 5:45 - Evening Asana class
6:00 - Dinner
8:00 - 9:30ish - Evening Satsung

Our one free day a week was Friday, where our schedule was what we made it, but, other than that, it was 5:30 to 9:30 every day. And here I thought I was on holiday :)

I decided to do a yoga certification on this trip because I loved practicing yoga when I was at home. I had great teachers and they made each class challenging and relaxing simultaneously. I'd go to yoga and diffuse from the day - work, school, life, all of it. It all left me for that hour. That's why I wanted to do it - not to be a teacher when I get home (although, I enjoyed teaching and hopefully it is a part of my life in the future), but to be able to bring that peaceful energy to myself. I wanted to learn not only about yoga, but where it came from; the religion and culture that made it what it is. What better place than India to do just that?

Unfortunately, I hadn't really been doing much yoga since I left home. I think I did it twice in New Zealand, to be exact. That left me with two months where I hadn't done so much as a single downward dog. That caught up to me quickly. My feet were still healing from the Everest hike when we dove into the four hour a day yoga practice. The first week was new and exciting and I was able to push through the soreness, stiffness and tiredness that I lugged around in my body.

Sivananda is a form of Hatha yoga. The class starts with two breathing exercises, several rounds of sun salutations and twelve asanas (poses). The breathing exercises were completely new to me. I'd done most of the asanas, in one form or another, but some were different enough to feel new and I really wasn't good at most of them anymore anyway. I've never been very flexible and hiking strength and yoga strength are two different things. I didn't have much of the latter left. My lack of skill was highlighted by the abundance of skill around me. There were others, like me, who were coming at this without much more than a casual relationship, but there were many more who were great at yoga, could do each pose with near perfect form and who were already teaching the art to others. It was intimidating. I went from my comfort zone (relatively) in the mountains of Nepal to almost completely out of it in my yellow t-shirt and white pants uniform.

That being said, the first week went by in no time. In orientation we were given our uniforms, got in front of everyone and introduced ourselves and talked about why we were here. I arrived late on Saturday night and didn't see much other than my bed, my mosquito net (so, so, so many damn mosquitos) and the few people sleeping in the same area. When the bell went off at 5:20 the next morning I got my first taste of morning mediation. That day, as happened twice a week, we walked to the dam to do our morning Satsung there. We all met at the front entry way at six and walked the twenty minutes downhill and across town to the dam in silence. When we got there, I hopped over the small wall and sat on the rocks to meditate and watch the sunrise. I didn't know any of the chants yet, so I listened as those that did sang as the sun rose. Watching the sun come up over the fog, water and tree covered islands in the distance was stunning. The colors, the people around me, the energy, the fact that I was there to begin with, all of it. I couldn't think of a better way to start the month. It walked back excited and ready to embrace the entire experience.

You could opt to stay in the dorms, or pay a little more and have a semi-private room and I decided on the latter. I wasn't sure what the dorm set up was when I registered, but due to a glitch I spent the first two nights in the dorms. It was one large building where each floor was divided into sections that housed two beds, equipped with mosquito nets. The divider around a pair of beds was maybe chest high. You could see everyone around you. I'd guess there were roughly sixty beds to a floor, thirty on each side and four floors total. Part of me wishes I would have stayed in the dorms. There was a sense of community, even in just those two days, that you didn't find in the private room. You were close to those people by default. The other part of me was happy for a little privacy. And, I couldn't have asked for a better roommate. Marie, from England, is just the right combination of witty and sarcastic. She's also got a gigantic heart in her little tiny frame. She was much better at the yoga than I was also, naturally, a great teacher. She was the perfect person to enjoy the ashram with and complain to when I needed to complain. She was up early every morning, showered and peppy before satsung. She's probably the only reason I made it to all but one of those early morning Satsungs. That, and the people that came around and knocked on your door if you weren't there… :)

For those of you that know me well (Kortney, Sherry and Chad can specifically relate to this one) I don't do well without two things - sleep and food. I wasn't really getting an adequate supply of either here. There was lots of delicious food when we got it, but we only got it twice a day - ten A.M. and six P.M. It wasn't enough, at least not for me. I'm a huge snacker; it's what my body's used to and, at this point, expects. It was hard to transition into eating two big meals and making the energy last all day. I never got very good at it, actually. There was a little boutique at the ashram that sold peanuts, cashews, nut clusters and dates and I snacked on so many I couldn't even look at them half way through the course. The meals we had, though, were of the amazing Southern Indian kind. Dosas (kind of like a crepe made from ground rice), sambar (lentil and vegetable based stew), idli (a rice based cookie looking thing), lots of chutneys, spicy pickled vegetables, vada (little fried lentil donuts), lots of other things and so, so, so much rice. Everything was seasoned with cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, garlic, cumin, coriander, turmeric and a whole list of other spices. A lot of it was made with coconut and had a touch of the sweet flavor. I loved the food. At least, the taste of it. My stomach didn't do so well eating rice (or some form of it) for every meal and I had to switch to toast at the Health Hut (the ashram's juice hut) a few times during the course to give it a rest. It never, not once, wasn't delicious, though. Twice, for special puja ceremonies, we even got to eat off of banana leaves rather than our traditional silver colored trays.

We ate on the floor without silver wear and although it took a little getting used to, I liked it. I didn't love sitting on the floor so much (well.. my back didn't like it) but I did like eating with my hands. It was a new relationship I hadn't had with my food before - feeling the temperature and the texture. Letting the energy of the fingers of right hand start the digestive process before it reached my mouth. It was like being little again and actually being allowed to play with my food!

What was the other thing I don't do well without? Oh, that's right. Sleep. I'm an eight hour a night sleeper and with the schedule, I wasn't getting the rest I needed and I pushed myself again and again each day with the two classes. I made the mistake of attending an optional class on my first free Friday instead of taking the day to relax. I thought one class instead of two would be enough of a recovery. I was wrong. I was sore all the time. Everywhere. And we always kept going. During our second week, once we'd had a full week of twice a day classes to learn the Sivananda sequence and listen to someone cue us through it over a dozen times, we started using the afternoon class to teach as well as practice. There were around 140 of us, so only those that volunteered tried out teaching until, at the end of that week, we were broken up into groups of four to each teach one of the four beginners classes and one open class. The repetition we'd gotten from a class twice a day, 6 days a week, made my own class flow easier than I thought it would. I'd heard the descriptions and cues so many times I recalled them fairly easily when I was teaching. My nerves were my worst enemy and, don't get me wrong, there was plenty that I fumbled, but it was a much better experience than I thought it would be. I enjoyed teaching. Granted, I was teaching people in the same program, so they knew the cues and sequence as well, if not better, than I did. I finally understood the importance of the repetition, though; of hearing and practicing that sequence over and over. I prepped for my classes to make sure I knew what I was doing, but it was all there in my head. I'd been living and breathing it for weeks. And, although I felt like, especially near the end, my practice was sliding backwards, without any rest, rather than advancing, it wasn't. I was making progress every day. My flexibility was better, my lines were straighter, my balance was better. I couldn't really tell at the time, but small steps every day make it easy for me to see now. Even when it's been a little while between classes, my flexibility, where there was so much stiffness before and the way my body can hold itself with a new kind of strength is a testament to that month.

So, here's your first taste of Ashram life. The rest will be on the way soon!

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Nepal

03/15/2014

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I love Nepal.

Love it.

I will be back as soon as I can manage.

The people, the culture, the scenery, the trekking, the craziness, the vibe the city gives off, how it all works despite the seeming chaos, all of it. I love it. It was my first non-Western country. The contrast between my life and theres, seemed, at first, stark. I stuck out like a sore thumb. My skin is a different color. There's no way to blend in; to be inconspicuous. You're always the foreigner. I've never felt that before. Also, I was rich here. That's a new one... It didn't matter that I'm a backpacker on a budget, with no income. Whoever looked at me assumed I was rich. I was able to pay for the plane ticket to get here and I had white skin. Loaded. So many things I'd never been before. So many molds I didn't fit into before, that I'd never even imagined fitting into at home.

It took a while to get used to the stares, but eventually it dawns on you that none of them are malicious. They're curious. At first, I looked away. They wouldn't break eye contact, so it was always up to me. Once it became more familiar and less threatening, I started to smile rather than avert my eyes. I almost always got a smile back. A big, wholehearted, open mouthed smile.

And the trekking. Oh, the trekking. Everest Base Camp. I still can't believe I did that. It was such a challenge, such an accomplishment and such an adventure. I cherish all of it, even the parts I didn't cherish in the moment. I donated so much of the blog to the trek that I won't spend too much time rehashing it here. But, it was an unforgettable experience and I still think about it almost every day.

There were a lot of differences in Nepal - language, religion, customs, currency, food, bathroom protocol. I could go on and on. Although it took a while, I finally realized that it doesn't matter if we speak languages the other doesn't understand, write words the other can't read or worship Gods the other doesn't have faith in. All languages serve the same purpose, all words are written to communicate and document and all Gods serve to explain this amazing gift of life. At first, all these differences seemed like a divider, but, there are always more similarities than you originally saw, and they always increase the closer you look. I continue to learn and relearn this lesson with each country I visit, but this is the first place everything was different enough for me to find the similarities.

Again, I love Nepal and I can't wait to go back!

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Kathmandu

03/14/2014

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I wrote this the day after I arrived in Kathmandu:
2/18/14
I'm sitting here at 5:30 A.M. on the roof of my hostel. There was no one up here when I came up earlier (around 4:30) but after my shower I have one other person to share the balcony with. He built a fire, though, so he's more than welcome. I think he may be one of the guides that works downstairs. He looks like the fit, "I hike mountains all day long" type. There are people starting to stir down stairs - I can hear them walking into the street. I'd guess they are starting a trek today. That, or they're jet lagged like me, but I doubt they'd be going out exploring yet. Maybe. I felt brave after venturing out with my roommate yesterday for a a few hours.The sights, people and sounds in the car ride from the airport where enough to make me hesitant about wandering out. There was litter everywhere - the river edges were filled with it, it was all over the sidewalk and into the street, people were walking through it. It was everywhere. There were crumbling houses, run down stores and a fine layer of dirt covering everything in site. The smog was like the worst of the inversion in Salt Lake in the middle of winter. You could taste the dirt in your mouth and building up in your nose as you breathed.

There were beggars, children, that came to the car windows on the ride. Everyone tells you to say no, that it promotes begging in the city and it's the wrong way to go about helping, but it's hard to deny a child using a scooping motion to mimic the food she wants to put into her mouth. Her and her brother skipped from car to car, asking everyone, local and foreigner, for money. I wonder how many hours and days they passed with the same routine. I wonder how many people, like me, didn't roll down the window. I wonder if that's the right decision and how you even begin deciding something like that. I wonder if I'll ever figure that out.

Back to the roof terrence. There's a car here and there, but at this time in the morning they're few and far between. It's a stark contrast from the constant horn blowing during the day. Cars and thousands of motor bikes, all using their horns at a regular interval. Life in the big city, I guess :) I think they do it more to let you know they're there than that you're in the way. It's a courtesy so you move and they don't run you over. It's much more frequent, but also much less combative then horn usage at home. It's constant, though. There's always someone blowing a horn. Always. It's a pedal bike horn or a motorbike horn or a rickshaw horn or a car horn or all (or at least several) of those at once. There's not a single moment, or so it seems, without the horns. The noise from the crowds walking the streets is the other obvious difference. Even without the speaking, which there's a lot of, as well as yelling, the sheer volume of that many people on the street is bound to make a good amount of noise.

I spent so much time prepping for EBC the first few days I was in Kathmandu that I didn't really see much other than Thamel (the shopping area) and my immediate surroundings. I did go to the Garden of Dreams and the Kaiser Library, both of which where right by my hostel. The gardens were a nice place to get away from the overload of Thamel and sit and read a book. The library was this elaborately decorated, beautiful, three story rectangular building with a courtyard in the middle. There were students studying in the hallways and rooms and green cabinets full of books written in English. I love books. They're one of my many weaknesses and I spent hours in the library just walking around and exploring shelf after shelf of English and Nepali books.

Kathmandu became less and less overwhelming the more time I spent there. You get used to the noise and people. There isn't much personal space, but people aren't just in your bubble, they're in everyone else's, too. The streets are like mazes that all connect in one way or another. I left with a better sense of direction then when I started, but I would have needed months to really make sense of the labyrinth that is Kathmandu.

When I got back from trekking there were lots of sites to fill the four days I had left in the country. I wanted to see Swayambhunath (the Monkey Temple), the Buddhist stupa Boudhanath, and Durbar Square, as well as just wander around. Kathmandu is one of those places where you can wander for hours and stubmle onto all sorts of things- temples, markets, shrines, religious ceremonies, beautiful old and crumbling religious relics, all sorts of things.

I visited the Monkey Temple with a guy from my hostel, Alobar 1000 (wonderful hostel!). We sat at a restaurant just outside the steep steps to get a late lunch. There were monkeys in the trees, walking on the electric lines, on the steps themselves, everywhere. They didn't seem to mind the people. They sat around and did their own thing. We came into the temple grounds to find all sorts of miniature shrines on the steps. There were women selling jewelry and their kids playing nearby. We walked up the steps, checking out the Buddha statues and intricately designed and carved miniature shrines on the way. After climbing the stairs and paying the entrance fee we reached the top to find the stupa towering over us. It was the traditional white dome topped with another section painted with Buddha's eyes and eyebrows, representing wisdom and compassion. There were smaller shrines surrounding the stupa on all sides and bigger temples near the perimeters. One of the temples had small candles you could buy and offer to Buddha. We spent over an hour up there, exploring everything and taking pictures before we headed back down the 365 steps we had climbed.

The next day I ventured out to Boudhanath, another Buddhist stupa. Getting there had been almost as much of an adventure as trekking in the Himalayas. When I asked at the hostel how to take the bus to Boudhanath, they gave directions that led me up an overpass and onto a street filled with vans. I was looking for a big bus station or even something small that resembled a bus stop. Maybe a sign with people standing under it? Something with times or a route. I wasn't having any luck. I walked around for a while and asked some people on the street. They all pointed me into the same area, but when I got there, all I found was van after van parked on the side of the street, no buses. My mind was so set in the idea of a bus and bus station that it didn't dawn on me that this was their version until one of the driver's passing me asked where I wanted to go. He didn't know much English, so I repeated Boudhanath in my American accent a few more time. He shook his head in a "yes, yes, come with me" kind of way and led me to his van. That sounds kidnapper creepy, but there were windows everywhere, crowds of people outside and he put me in the front seat. Then, he got back out on the sidewalk and I waited. I wasn't even sure how we were going to get out of our spot. There were vans surrounding us from all sides. There was no where to move. I waited there about five minutes before getting impatient and stepping out of the van to ask when we were going. He hurried me back in and said "Ok, ok, ok" before returning to the street and starting to yell. In the string of words, there was only one that I could pick up, Boudhanath. Slowly, after hearing his repetitive chant, I realized that he was yelling off a list of locations. People started piling in to the van until there was no seating room left on the hand made benches in the back. They kept piling in anyway. Once the back was full, no more standing or sitting room and there was a large Nepali man next to me, squishing me between him and the driver, we were ready to go. The driver leaned his head out the window and started yelling at the vans around him. They all moved. Some of them only by inches, but it was enough to squeeze our van through the maze of others and into the flow of traffic.

If I'd taken a taxi, the ride would have taken about ten minutes and cost me $3-$4. The van took almost forty five, but it only cost me about thirty cents and it was an experience in itself. The forty five minutes was necessary because along each street the driver would lean his head out of the window and yell the same list of destinations I'd heard at the parking spot, minus the ones we'd already passed. If people on the street responded, or someone from inside spoke up, we'd stop and people would move on and off. The driver was fascinated with the fact that I was an American women traveling in Nepal. He kept telling me that someday "I go America!!" There was a younger man in the back who spoke a little English, so he translated when I couldn't make out the broken English of the driver. The whole experience was amazing. The smiles, the looks, the squished seating, the yelling, the sheer amount of people in that one small van. But, somehow, everyone made it to their destination for the low, low price of 20 Nepali Rupees, including me.

The Stupa was massive. Turns out, it's the largest chhyorten (stupa) in the world. A circular neighborhood had been built up around it and there were cafe's, restaurants, little shops and other places of worship surrounding it. The dome was topped with the traditional Buddha eyes and prayer flags I'd come to recognize from the trek. I got coffee at one of the roof top restaurants, walked through all the little shops, and was pleasantly surprised when, as it started to get dark, the stupa was lit up form the base with thousands of little red lights. I stood in a corner and watched people on the statue pray on their hands and knees. Some had rugs and small wheeled disc that their hands rested on to take them from their knees to a laying position in one swift, smooth motion. Sometimes, with all the tourist shops and restaurants, you forget that the places you visit are places where people actually pray to their God.

Durbar square was my next and last day in the country. It's a plaza filled with two palaces and several courtyards, shrines and temples. It's enclosed in a large neighborhood, so as you find your way, you walk around all of the winding, connecting streets and stumble upon things at every turn. There was a small temple I found, while trying to find the square, where I sat on the steps and watched the people get blessings. It was beautiful. The women were in all different colors, making offerings, praying and receiving the red marks of a blessing. A few Nepali children came over and asked me where I was from. I think that was the only question they knew. That, or they didn't understand me because they asked over and over again. I find that most people are delighted to show you the English they know, even if it's just a phrase or "Hello." People say it as you're walking by, children scream it at you while you're on the bus, and they're always smiling while they do it. I started asking after the square and finally had enough fingers pointing me in the right direction to find it. It's a big square filled with all sorts of treasures. Everything is old, but it's a UNESCO Heritage Sight so it's well taken care of. Most of the temples are made from red, clay bricks. I'd guess the color differences come from their differences in aging, but some might have been made of other materials. Many resembled pagodas, with higher levels gradually coming in to make a triangular point. There are big and small temples and shrines, some guarded by lions and other stone figures. There were elephant carvings, gold overlay, immense detail in everything and people all over. There were a lot of tourists, but also a lot of locals. The square is surrounded by a residential area, so there were children playing, people having lunch on all the temples, people just sitting and chatting, owners minding their restaurants and small souvenir shops and locals trying to sell you on letting them be your guide.

I ate lunch at another roof top restaurant. The vantage points from those are the best. I spent the rest of the day wandering around, trying to find other little treasures that weren't on my map. I found several more, small temples and shrines scattered along the streets. I think, the way the houses and streets were set up, everything was built around them, careful not to damage them. There were offerings on almost all of them and people worshipping at a few. I wonder what it would be like to interact with buildings so old and with so much history and symbolism in your day to day. They probably didn't think anything of it. You usually don't think much about your day to day routine. I don't, at least. I'm probably fascinated by their day to day because, as an American, I have a relatively short history to relate it to. Regardless, it was quite the experience and I was lucky to have it!

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EBC - Gokyo (4790m) to Namche Bazaar (3440m) to Lukla (2840m)

03/06/2014

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By getting to Gokyo we'd made three of our four goals with only one remaining - hiking Gokyo Ri for its view of Everest. We'd planned on doing it as another sunrise hike, but the last one had been so cold (and I was getting lazy) that we decided to hike it when we woke up instead. We were waking up fairly early anyway, and we had plans to stay in Gokyo one more night, so the only thing we had to worry about was beating the afternoon cloud roll in. I was up, fed and ready to be out the door by 7:30. Unfortunately, my shoes had frozen overnight and getting into them was like forcing my feet into cold bricks. I did, eventually, get my feet in and tie up frozen laces. Netra appeared to tell me he was having the same problem, and he was waiting for his shoes to thaw after spending a little time in the sun. That was fine, except that my feet were freezing and I needed to get out and start walking around to heat them back up. I told him I was going to start and I'd see him on the trail. It was easy going across the river and to the base of Gokyo Ri since the sun had already risen and I could see the trail. The trail itself was similar to Kala Pattar, but disappeared on the bottom half of the hike when there was no snow for footprints. When I could find it, it also zig zagged up the moutain, followed by short bursts that went straight up. When I lost it, or followed something that I incorrectly thought was the trail, I followed the same pattern, traversing sideways and heading straight up when the grade wasn't as steep. As I got higher, there was more and more white. It wasn't deep, though, and it made the footprints more obvious and easier to follow. I turned a few times to see Netra and Richard behind me, but I didn't stop to wait for fear that the defrosting of my toes would be reversed. When I reached the top, maybe an hour and twenty minutes later, there was a group that was just starting on their way back down. I'd guess they were all around their early twenties and one of the guys was in his red boxer shorts. I asked him how those were working out for him and he commented that they were his special shorts and this was a special occasion. Fair enough.

The top was more of a plateau than a peak and had prayer flags strung on rock piles from one side to the other. There was even a small golden Buddha statue up there, incased in a little black and gold case. I took in the amazing 360 degree view. Mountains everywhere and Everest, again with a framing of clouds behind it. I think the view of Everest was even better here than it had been at Kala Pattar. That had been at sunrise, sure, but this was more of the mountain. I sat down to wait for the guys and, out of nowhere, a black dog came to join me. She sat down next to me and we enjoyed the views, warm sun and peacefulness together.

Netra and Richard got there shortly afterwards and we swapped cameras so everyone had a picture with the view. It was so nice that we stayed on top for about another half an hour, just hanging out on the rocks.

The hike down didn't take long, especially once the snow thinned out. I had the rest of the day to do whatever I wanted. What I really wanted was a shower. My last shower had been Namche Bazaar. That was day three and we were on day 12. My clothes didn't smell good. I didn't smell good. I hadn't taken my beanie off, other than to comb my hair before bed, for days because it was such a greasy mess. I knew I was only a day out from Namche, where I could get a hot shower, but the thought of lounging around in my stench was more than I wanted to bear. It was one thing to be out hiking and then eat dinner and go to bed, too drained from the day to care, but it was another to spend almost the entire day sitting in a lodge smelling terrible. It was time to shower. That probably sounds like a no brainer, but when I say I decided to shower, I mean I decided to brave the bucket shower, not take the regular shower you and I are used to at home. My shower consisted of a cold bathroom (no heating in Gokyo other than the common room stove and the bathroom wasn't in the common room) the size of a closet with a cold cement floor, a 5-gallon bucket of hot water and a plastic measuring cup to pour the water over me. No joke. Luckily, someone told me that standing in the bucket was the best way to stay relatively warm. I stripped, stood in the bucket and poured hot water over myslef with my cup. Honeslty, it wasn't so bad once you got your whole body wet, but until then all I could focus on was how cold my dry skin was and how quickly the warm water got cold once it hit my skin. I lathered, rinsed and washed my hair in record time. I used all the water in my five gallon bucket. I dried off, again in record time and put on the cleanest clothes I could find (I didn't have enough clothes to be wearing new ones everyday, there'd been no places to do any laundry and when it got really cold I was wearing all my clothes to keep warm, so I use the term "clean" loosely). BUT, I was cleaner than I had been in over a week and it felt great. I got my journal and book and sat by the stove to dry my hair and lounge. The rest of the day was filled with pots of tea, journal writing, watching people enter and exit Gokyo, reading more of Touching my Father's Soul, a $5 can of pringles and a more reasonably priced Dove milk chocolate bar I could no longer resist :)

Day 12: 3 hours. About three miles up and back. Another great view of Everest and my first (and hopefully last) bucket shower.

We wanted to cover as much ground as possible today, hoping that maybe, if we walked quickly enough and only stopped for a quick lunch and breaks, we could make it all the way back down to Namche. That was a lofty goal, at roughly 17 miles, but it was almost all downhill and the percentage of oxygen in the air would be increasing the whole time. That meant a lot more energy.

We started in the snow, but more and more earth poked through the lower we went. There was more wildlife and brush also, and eventually we walked back into the leafless trees we had seen leaving Tengboche. The temperature and oxygen lever were rising. Gradually, leaves started to appear as the Cherry Oaks gave way to pines. I was taking off layers one after another as we got lower. We were hiking downhill, but we kept up a quick pace and I was warm even without the decrease in elevation. Soon, I was down to one long sleeved shirt and one pair of pants. That's a shirt, a jacket, gloves and a pair of pants less than I had been wearing only a day before.

We had one real push, an uphill section from Phortse Thanga to Mong La. It was just after two when we reached our lunch spot, just before the climb. We still had a ways to go so we quickly got some soup and a few hardboiled eggs, and were off again just before three. The climb was about an hour and it was a good climb. Most of the trail was fairly steep and a lot of it was steps that had been made into it.

One hour. Trying not to stop too often. Bag getting heavy.

It was four by the time we reached Mong La. With it being just past four, we debated spending the night and heading to Namche in the morning. We still had a little daylight left, though, and Netra estimated it was only about an hour, so we kept going. This was almost all downhill, even rounding the mountain we were descending. There was a little uphill, but it was gradual and only lasted a little while before the trail leveled out. An hour passed and we weren't in Namche yet. The fog rolled in and I lost my surroundings, just able to see the trail in front of me. It took another hour to reach the lodge in and by the time we did it was dark and foggy enough that I walked almost completely past town without realizing it.

We got in, took a shower :), and I went to the bakery for a hot drink and some chocolate. I met Ricardo on the trail and after meeting me at the bakery we headed to have a celebratory beer. Remember the guy with the shorts from Gokyo Ri? He and his big group were also getting beers and they were amazed that we'd gone through the pass. Their guide wouldn't take them, and neither would the guide of another group we met. They'd had to backtrack after base camp back down to Tengboche and then come back up from there. We could have done that, but it would have added a few more days. Plus, the pass had been pretty cool (minus the glacier debacle the next day).

I was tired and one beer was all I could handle without starting to fall asleep on my stool. I went back to my warm bed and off to Never Never Land.

Day 13: 10 hours. ~17 miles. Covered a whole lot of ground.

The next day we hunkered down in Namche so I could explore the Saturday morning market that my Lonely Planet talked so much about. It turned out to be more for the store owners and residents than travelers like me, but it was still fun to see what everyone was selling. There weren't many of the tourist items the shops had - yak wool clothes, hand made jewelry, cold weather clothing, water purification tablets, anything else you might have forgotten. It was more soap, detergent, rice, snacks and stuff geared towards people living in the area. With a full day I had time for a more thorough exploration of the shops around town, bought some booties for a pair of adorable babies I know and spent a good while in each of the galleries looking at all the amazing paintings. There was a showing of the National Geographic movie Sherpa at one of the cafes everyday at three and I attended since I'd missed it on our way up. It told me much of what I'd already noticed, that none of these expeditions would happen without the help of Sherpas. They were the ones that went from camp to camp, multiple times, hauling gear and camp supplies for the expeditions. They risked their lives several times over what anyone else climbing the mountain did simply by the shear number of times they went up and down. They carried food, tents, oxygen and whatever else was needed. Most of them would have preferred to be doing something else for work, but this was the best way to support their family and community. With the income, several times over what an average Nepali makes a year, they could send their kids to school in Kathmandu, or even abroad. They could build a tea house that would bring money to their children, grandchildren and the entire community. They really are what make those expeditions reach the top over and over again.

Day 14: Zero miles. Zero hours. Market, movie, rest and relaxation!

Today wasn't that long of a day; about six hours, with a leisurely hour for lunch (check the photo of the three men sleeping) and all but the last two miles was downhill. I met a Nepali girl on the last half of the walk and she told me about the wildlife research she was doing in the area. A student in the US, whom she was working for, was doing his PhD on the wildlife in the Everest region and she was part of his team. They'd been here, going up and down, meeting with locals, spotting animals, collecting data for five weeks. It's pretty nice not having a job, but if I had to pick one, that would be high on the list!

We, and the rest of the research group she was with, spent the night in the same hotel and played UNO for hours before going to bed. We were catching the early, 6 AM flight to avoid being trapped in by the fog (although, I can think of worse places to be stuck). It was a great way to end the trek. Mellow night playing cards with a group of people I enjoyed. Turns out Netra loves UNO, and he won the majority of the games. We were up until about 10:30, which was the middle of the night compared to the time I had been going to bed. And, no, we didn't get stuck in Lukla the next day because of the fog. Blue skies. Another little plane. Back into Kathmandu. Success.

Day 15: 6.4 miles. 5 hours. The end of a Everest/Gokyo trek that left me with a new understanding of Nepal and it's people, hundreds and hundreds of photos, never taking a shower or Western toilet for granted again, memories of beautiful scenery I couldn't even begin to adequately describe, sadness that it was over and, most of all, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

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EBC- Dzongla (4830m) to Dragnag (4700m) to Gokyo (4790m)

03/04/2014

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We were all up and out the door around eight thirty - slightly spread out after doing our respective packing and prepping. Netra and I set out after Richard, but before Yumi and Ram. It had snowed a little, but not enough to be worried about. We were all in site of each other, and for the first little bit, we walked, stopped to shed layers and hiked up to the first rock wall we'd have to climb up and over. It wasn't the kind of wall we needed climbing gear for, but it was steep enough to call it a wall. We regrouped there and made our way up, slowly, to the top. The trail weaved its way, on the snow, in-between the rocks. It was slippery and we were using our hands and poles as well as our feet to get up and over to the next rock. It was another of those "head down, just keep lifting up your feet" stretches of trail. We made it to the top and were able to look out over the glacier we'd be crossing. We walked to a nearby overhang and prepped for the glacier. Everyone put on their crampons and gaiters. Lucky for me, Richard had a pair of microspikes he let me borrow. I shed some more layers, hot from the climbing, and we were off.

We could see the top of the pass in front of us and knew we wanted to stay high left to stay off the glacier as much as possible. There were someone's steps to follow for a while, but they turned to the right, went across the glacier and disappeared after rising up the other side. Netra broke trail when there was no trail to follow. It was ankle deep for the most part, but as we got further in and on more of a slant, it got deeper. At one point, it went to knee and/or waist height when your foot went through the snow of the footprint in front of you. I put my camera away because it was hanging around my neck and getting its fair share of face shots.

The last bit to the highest point of the pass was similar to the first climb we had done that morning - a steep face. There was a crack in the glacier on one side and although we weren't that close to it, it still gave me the he-bee-gee-bees . Richard gave Netra a break and they made their way up, side stepping with us behind them. They reached the top first and hauled the rest of us up over the last step. It was exhausting work. We'd started with a gradual climb, had a short steep hike up a wall, walked through different depths of snow across a glacier and then scaled our way up another wall to reach the highest point of Cho La pass (5420m). For those of you into snow sports, you can appreciate how exhausted we all were. It had taken us almost four hours and we were only at the halfway mark.

There are no lodges up here (obviously) so we downed some water (and I ate a snickers), congratulated each other and took some photos before starting the long way down on the other side. I took one photo from the top that showed how close we had come to a big hole in the glacier. I was glad we weren't walking on a glacier again until tomorrow!

The rest of the way was down, but we still had to deal with snow, ice and small, shifting rocks for the first bit of it. I don't know that we were going down any faster than we had been hiking up. After coming down the other side of the wall, we followed the valley in-between two mountains. There was less snow the further down we went, but the trail kept going and going and going. With the curve of the trail you couldn't see to far ahead. It felt like forever before we finally saw Dragnag below us. We were all tired and hungry. We did see some mountain goats on the way down, though. Those animals are so agile. They bounded on the steepest areas of the mountain like they were running one of the flat trails up Milcreek Canyon. There was a group of them, and two were headed up the sheer face as we were headed down the trail. We watched them bounce from place to place like it was nothing.

We'd originally planned on stopping in Dragnag for lunch and continuing on Gokyo, but it was 3:30 by the time we got there and we were all exhausted. We weren't sure how long the next stretch was going to take and we were all pretty beat from the last seven hours. We stopped at one of the only lodges that looked open (it was still pre-season) and ordered some much needed lunch. I'd been seeing tuna pizza on the menu and since I'm here to try new things, I decided to try it. I knew it was canned tuna, but they added some spices, vegetables and cheese and made it delicious. I don't know if I'll be making it at home, but if you're ever in the area, you should try it!

Day 10. 7 miles. 7 hours. Glacier walking through Cho La pass. Oh yeah.

We woke up again to fresh snow, but it was still only about ankle deep. We put on our gaiters and headed out. Today, there was no pass, but we were crossing the Ngozumpa glacier to reach Gokyo. We left the lodge and headed up, but there were no rock walls today like yesterday. The path got a little steeper as we reached the top of where we started our descent on to the glacier, but all in all it was a pretty gradual beginning (I can say that because I, again, wasn't breaking trail!).

We could see the glacier from here, and it didn't look all that bad. It wasn't the same kind of glacier as yesterday, where we had to worry about crevasses and falling through. I think the difference was that yesterday's was over a lake and this was just an accumulation of ice over the ground. It was still a glacier, and had it's own set of hazards, but wasn't as daunting as yesterday's had been.

We hiked down to where the glacier began and where headed north west on the rolling, up and down snow and ice hills of Ngozumpa. I had no real sense of where we should be going, but about twenty minutes in, Ram pointed out that we were heading towards the wrong range.. It wouldn't have added much more than an hour or two, probably, but in the snow, that's a lot of extra hiking. The surrounding mountains get confusing and there was, again, no trail to follow. I was actually impressed with Netra and Ram's knowledge of the area. They figured out the correct direction by naming off peaks and where they were in reference to Gokyo Ri. There are so many mountains and peaks in that area, and this wasn't their regular guide circuit. We were back on track in no time.

I want to preface this next paragraph with the fact that I really did enjoy Netra as a guide. I think, with Nepal being my first non-Westernized country, I still didn't have a good grasp on how differently things could work here, even with things like guided trips. That being said, today was not one of Netra's best days. Netra is also 22, so factor in what you were like at 22. I definitely was not what you would call responsible, but, I also wasn't guiding groups in the Himalayas. It was obvious that Netra was irritated he had been going the wrong direction and was called out on it in front of the group. He was also irritated when Yumi and I decided to take a less steep way back to the trail rather than follow his lead. When he had connected to where Ram was now leading, he raced ahead to again be breaking trail. Now we were both irritated.

The trial wasn't very easy going. On the way down to the glacier we'd had some fun sliding down parts of the hills, but there were too many rocks here and not enough hill. The path was a seemingly never ending up, over down and repeat. Sounds easy enough, but the glacier was covered with rocks that were slippery from the snow and surrounded by gaps that you couldn't see. My poles were a hinderance rather than a help and I eventually put them away so they wouldn't come out from underneath me on a slippery area.

About 15 minutes into the crossing, Richard announced that he was headed back and up and around the glacier rather than crossing it the way we were. It was more mileage than going straight through, but the going looked a lot better. Netra didn't respond to the comment, although I'm sure he heard it. He kept moving ahead, up and down the waves of the glacier. I wasn't really sure what to do. I agreed with Richard on the path. I was struggling and it was a long way yet to the other side. Richard sensed my hesitation and pointed out that I should stay with Netra. "I don't know what it's going to be like. It's just a guess. It might take a lot longer than this route. These guys are the actual guides." I looked back to Ram and he was going to keep following Netra. I think, now, that that was more of the passive attitude of Ram than the critical thinking part. Ram's decision to stay behind Netra made me a little more confident, though, and we turned and kept going forward as Richard turned to backtrack.

Richard ended up beating us to the village by about an hour. He had to go back for a little while, but the trail he made around was pretty straight forward, much better than the one we were taking. I was becoming exhausted and more and more angry with each step. Netra was too far ahead to be aware of what was happening with the rest of us and every time I lost my footing or my foot slipped into a hole, it was Ram that helped me up, not Netra. I felt like I was slipping constantly. That's obviously an exaggeration, but that's what it felt like. It was exhausting work between hauling yourself over rocks, finding your footing on the ascents and descents and just trying not to fall over. I ripped the leg of my pants as my leg slipped into a whole and my shoes were becoming soaked. We came to one point on the glacier where we were walking across a pebble covered, slanted face and I lost my footing and slid almost all the way down to the bottom. I was exhausted and now I had to climb back up, fighting the loose pebble the entire way. It didn't really take that long, and Netra was waiting at the top by the time I made it back up, but I finally lost it. When he asked if I was ok, I pointed to Richard, now at the point where we would come out across the glacier, having missed all of this, and told him that I wasn't ok. That we were going the worst way possible and this wasn't what I got a guide for. This way was dangerous and it wasn't even saving us anytime. That, and he was so far ahead he had no idea how much the rest of us were struggling. If I'd wanted to make unsafe decisions in the Himalayas, I could have done it on my own, for free. That's why I had hired a guide, to keep my well being in mind. I don't know if he understood all that I said, but I'm sure my tone was telling. He responded by asking if he could help by carrying my bag. When I said no, he turned around and continued paving the way, too far in front of me. He kept hiking ahead, stopping every few minutes to check over his shoulder and make sure we were still following. At one point, Ram, Yumi and I stopped for some water. Ram asked Yumi if she was ok and she responded by leaning over a rock and throwing up. I looked up at Netra, who was watching, and handed Yumi my water bottle to wash out the sick from her mouth.

We had no choice but to keep going and by this point we were almost off the glacier. When we reached the end we had one more climb before coming into the Gokyo valley on the other side. It was only about twenty minutes, but it was steep and we were all exhausted. Netra was waiting at the bottom and when he asked how I was feeling I told him the truth - exhausted. I was, too. I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore. I was just glad to be off the glacier and on terrain that I could at least gauge. He apologized and said that that was his fault. He actually said "Sometimes I can see nothing but the trail in front of me and I'm going to get where I'm going even if I die doing it." Damnit, Netra. One, he had apologized. That took some reflection. Two, I was still pissed. I laid into him a little less harshly about how I didn't want to die to get there, and that's the reason I was paying him. "I want to be safe. That's why I got a guide." He apologized again, said I was right and apologized to Ram and Yumi when they got there.

We made our way, slowly up the last climb and did a little sliding on wobbly legs down the other side.. Richard was waiting at one of the lodges with some hot tea for us and we all went inside and collapsed on the benches. I felt better after some hot ginger tea and soup and we spent the rest of the day and into the evening in the common room, talking about the day, other travel adventures and whatever else came up. I couldn't keep my eyes open much past dinner, so I ate my fried noodles and called it a night.

Day 11. 3.5 miles. 5 hours. Physical exhaustion, but we finally made it to Gokyo.

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EBC - Kala Pattar - 5545m (Gorak Shep (5160m) to Dzonglha (4830m))

03/03/2014

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Kala Pattar is the best Everest viewpoint in that area. It's climbed at sunrise or early morning because it usually clouds up every afternoon. To catch the sunrise we were out of bed and downstairs by 4:20 for some hot porridge. We had to wake up the kitchen staff to remind them of our order, but we were still out of the lodge by five. I hadn't slept too well (I think it was the elevation), so I was dragging my feet from the get go. The thermometer in the common room said -20 C (-4 F) when we left and I walked out with most of my clothes I'd brought with me, including two pairs of thermal pants under my rain pants, my puffy jacket and my puffy gloves. I'd eaten breakfast in everything except the puffy gloves.

I noticed the stars the second we stepped out the door. With the minimal light from Gorak Shep, they looked a lot bigger than the twinkling pin pricks I see at home. That, and there were so many more. The sky was filled with them. We both stared wordlessly, taking it in for a little bit longer until we picked out the few constellations we knew and set out across the mini plane to the base of Kala Pattar.

Netra didn't have a headlamp, but, somehow, he was still navigating across the plane better than me, even though I did. We reached the base too far to the left and had to hunt around for the trail, scrambling over boulders and ice to find it. I slipped more than once. I began to notice, as I slipped on mini frozen over ponds, that my headlight was getting dimmer and dimmer. I saw pretty well when we started, but the light got more and more faint, I think from the cold, until it stopped altogether. By this time, we'd found the trail and had started our way up it. I couldn't see anything more than an outline of that was in front of me, but Netra seemed not to mind. I was moving at a snails pace trying not to fall on obstacles I couldn't really see when I heard voices behind us. Netra and I looked back to see a group of guys coming up behind us with strong, bright headlamps. Note to self: Next time, make sure my headlamp is rated to -20 C.

I asked them if they'd mind if we followed them. My answer was a lot of stares, but no responses. I didn't know if that was because they didn't understand my question or they'd prefer not being followed. Either way, when they started walking again, Netra and I followed close behind. Luckily, we all hiked at a similar pace and as it got closer and closer to sunrise, we could see more and more of the trail without the help of their headlamps. It took us just over an hour to do the 200 meter climb. The trail zig zagged in short sections up the side of the mountain. It was obvious, with the well worn path, that it saw a lot of foot traffic. It made short, usually steep ascents up one direction before switching to the other way. That was when it wasn't just going up. It wasn't easy, but with my small pack and somewhat rested legs, it wasn't the hardest climbing we'd done, either. For the most part I kept my head down, watched the light and foot placement of those in front of me, and tried to keep pace.

We made it to the top with enough time to do a little exploring and take some pictures before sunrise. The highest point of the peak was exposed to the wind, so we climbed up, looked around and came the five or so feet back down to the natural platform that was sheltered from the wind. In total, I think about ten of us braved the early morning cold to watch the sunrise.. Then, we waited. And waited. And waited for about half an hour. The waiting was the hard part. It was cold. Really cold. I'd hiked up in a puffy jacket and gloves. The hood was pulled up over my already hat covered head and I was still cold. At first we all did the shuffle from one foot to another, but once that stopped working, all self consciousness went out the window and it was full out aerobics. I channeled Alex's class from home and did jumping jacks, high knees and ran in place. You name it, I probably did it. Anything to keep my core body temp up and the cold from spreading into my fingers and toes. It worked, though. A girl yesterday had said it had taken hours for the feeling to come back into her toes after the hike. I never got that cold. Yay for "North Face" and mountain aerobics!

About half an hour after we got there the sun finally decided to show itself through the peaks. By this point my camera had frosted over and I got a few pics with a weird haze to them. I stuck it in my coat, did some more jumping jacks and pulled it out to capture some un-fogged pictures. We watched the colors of the landscape change as the sun rose. The mountains went from having a dark blue tint to seeing the details in the orange and yellow light of the sun. It was an incredible way to start the day. That high up, watching the sun rise (and your breath frost over), having worked hard to get there. Every second of the cold and altitude were worth getting to watch this.

I'm not going to lie, we had waited around so long for the sunrise that I was ready to get off the peak as soon as it was good and risen. It was cold and with all of the picture taking I had stopped moving and was having a harder and harder time keeping my fingers and toes warm. The walk down didn't take long and I got warm once I started moving again. We got down to the lodge, had some tea, packed our bags and were on our way. We didn't have too long to go today, and we'd be decreasing in elevation, so the extra oxygen should give us a boost. We made it down to Lobuche for an early lunch and took the right path when the trail split below it. We were heading into the next range over rather than back down the way we had come. Well, hopefully. Netra had mentioned on the way that we might need to find a rope for the pass. He didn't have the words to elaborate, but I'd guessed it was so we could tie ourselves together in case one of us fell into a crevasse. That didn't give me much confidence. We decided we'd discuss it with the people in Dzongla, who should know the conditions, and if people had been passing it in the last little bit and go from there.

We ran into Richard right before the path split; he was planning on the pass the next day also. Two people that he had been hiking with earlier, Yumi and her guide Ram, were also. Richard said he had some mini spikes I could use and some other gear the group could use if we needed it. Not to undermine Netra, but the fact that other people were going to be joining us made me feel a lot more confident in the decision to go forward. I'd noticed that Netra seemed to be giving me answers he thought I wanted to hear, rather than maybe what I should have heard. I think that's when it started to hit me that I had been hearing positive, we can do whatever you want answers even from setting stuff up at the office. I had asked if we were going to need any special gear, but I should have been a little weary when I heard no. I knew there was snow up here this time of the year. Everything was yes and we could go anywhere and do anything. If I'd done a little more research myself, I would have realized this sooner and been able to ask more direct questions to prepare myself better. To be honest, I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't run into the other group that day. The lady at the lodge in Dzongla told us that she hadn't seen anyone pass in a few days and that the recent snow would have covered whatever trail there had been. I don't know how safe it would have been for the two of us to venture into the area alone. Luckily, we didn't have to!

We decided, as a group, to try it. It was going to be a long day, but we should be able to make it over the pass and all the way to Gokyo, stopping in Dragnag for lunch, if we kept at it. We went through what little gear we had, what Richard, Netra and Ram knew of the trail, had some dinner and went to bed.

Day 9: 8.5 miles. 6 hours. Getting to see the sunrise behind Mount Everest. Wow. Wow. Wow. :)

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Everest Base Camp (5340m)!! (Lobuche (4930m) to Gorak Shep (5160m))

03/02/2014

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I woke up energized knowing that I'd get to see base camp today. I'd read that it could be anticlimactic - fences surrounding the tents and people preparing to climb Everest. I could see how they wouldn't want to interact with every person that came to base camp. That could definitely mess with your mental preparation. How cool would it be to meet people climbing Everest, though?!

The hike to Gorak Shep was only about two hours. We passed the Italian Pyramid sign on our right and kept gradually gaining elevation. We walked along the edge of the Khumbu glacier for the first bit. Netra said this part of the trial changes constantly with the rapid melting of the glacier. The dumping ground of rocks and debris gets wider and wider as the glacier gets smaller and smaller. We came around a corner to our first view of Kala Pattar,the hike we'd been doing at sunrise tomorrow for its view of Everest. After that it was only a short hike to reveal the little village of Gorak Shep below us. There was a trail on the left for Kala Pattar, and a trail above the village that curved right for Base Camp. We couldn't see Everest from where we were, but Base Camp was only about an hour and a half away. We'd left Lobuche at 7:30 and it was only 9:30 when we got to Gorak Shep. There were still some clouds in the sky, but they were sparse and the sun was shining. It was the perfect day to reach base camp. We picked a lodge, had some hot tea and set out for EBC.

We walked along the path, the only two people on the trail, and got closer and closer to the mountains surrounding us. The path went up above town and kept going up for a while before heading left across the glacier. There wasn't much up and down and when there was it was short. You can't see Everest from anywhere on this trail, or even from base camp, but the surrounding mountains offered a good enough view that I didn't really mind. We were walking on the glacier, and parts of it showed through the rocks here and there. I got my first glimpse of color from the prayer flags of Base Camp about twenty minutes before we got there. The Lonely Planet was right, I was a little disappointed. When we reached it, I thought we must not have the right spot.
"This is Base Camp? Like, the old Base Camp? Is the new one higher up?"
"No," Netra said a couple times, "Base Camp."
There wasn't a fence to keep the climbers isolated because there were no climbers. I should have realized it was too early in the season, but I hadn't. Netra mentioned that we would see climbers, so I was expecting at least a glimpse of the community I had read so much about. We knew there were supplies on the way up behind us, but no climbers yet. I guess that's a pretty good reason to come back :) I reminded myself that I had just reached Everest Base Camp and it was a huge accomplishment whether or not there were climbers there to gawk at. The disappointment faded pretty quickly after the realization set in.

Base Camp, I was told, is in a slightly different place each year, depending on the glacial melt and where tents can be placed. Apparently, the large pile of rocks and prayer flags is kind of the center of the community and camps are built around it wherever they fit. There were prayer flags strung from rocks in every level of the pile and they added a vibrant color to the grey and white of the landscape. I'd bought some for Netra and I while shopping in Thamel. I started my first string of flags off another chain and tried to tie the knots without it being blown out of my hand. It took a lot longer than it should have and I finally had to take my gloves off to finish the job. They were only off for about five minutes, but my hands were freezing when I was done. Luckily I had purchased puffy gloves that got the tingle out of my fingertips in no time. I was amazed that Netra was able to keep his gloves off the whole time to take pictures for me. There's got to be a genetic element there. He could handle the cold so much better than I could.

When I was done, we walked a little ways past Base Camp to explore the Khumbu Glacier. The trail went up above it, but we didn't walk quite that far. Netra got nervous each time I neared the ice, probably rightfully so, so I stuck to the path until we decided to turn around. The ice formations were amazing. There were small peaks, pyramids, caves and cracks that probably would have been large enough to walk through. The ice only showed through a little on the trail we were walking, but it was full blown glacier next to us.

We spent about an hour between Base Camp and exploring the glacier and then headed back to the lodge. We ran into a few people on the way, but mostly the trail was quiet. Netra and I talked about the fact that we were two for two: Chhokhung Ri and Base Camp. All we had left was making it through the Cho La pass and Gokyo Ri (Ri means viewpoint). We still weren't sure that that the pass was even possible. We'd heard differing reports on whether it was safe or not, and the equipment that you needed if you did try. Netra kept assuring me that we didn't need anything, but I wasn't so sure. I didn't even have crampons, let alone anymore high tech gear.

We got back to the lodge at 2. Another short day! More reading and journaling. A pot of tea to stay warm and bed around eight for the early morning, 4:20, wakeup!

Day 8: 6 hours. 9.75 miles. EVEREST BASE CAMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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EBC - Dingboche (4360m) to Lobuche (4930m)

03/01/2014

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Remember those clouds? They were filled with snow… :)

We left around nine because we knew it was going to be a short day. You could easily keep going if it weren't for the elevation issues.

The ground was covered in a dusting of white and it was still snowing and windy when we left. I'm from Utah, so I don't mind snow (I love it, actually), but the wind was pretty strong also. We bundled up and I got a Nalgene of hot tea for the road. Today, rather than walking towards Chhukhung (north east), we were hiking up the ridge surrounding Dingboche, then heading north west. We had to hike up to the ridge, but after that the gain in elevation was slight enough that you barely noticed it. We were walking across the barren plains of the Khumbu Khola valley. No trees = no shield from the wind. I didn't take many pictures because of the snow and wanting to keep my hands warm. We crossed the plain and the trail followed the midline of the mountain we'd been approaching. The trail below us, that came up from Periche, had people scattered here and there. The bright colored jackets stood out against the fog and snow. It only took about two and a half hours to get to Dugla, our lunch spot, but by the time we saw the lodge I was starving. It must have been from Chhukung Ri the day before. We had planned on hiking through, because it was another short day, but stopped instead.

The second half of the day took about another two hours and, although there were still lots of clouds in the sky, it was no longer snowing. We'd gained a little less than 300 meters from Dingboche to Dughla and were gaining about another 300 meters from Dughla to Lobuche. The first hour of the trail goes up the moraine of the Khumbu Glacier. A moraine (I had to look this up) is like the dumping ground for all of the rocks and other debris that come off the glacier. There was a lot of scrambling on this part - big rocks, small rocks, snow and ice. At the top of the ridge your rewarded with several memorials to climbers and sherpas. Again, because of the snow and cold, I didn't take a ton of pictures. Don't worry, though, I found a good one on the internet :)

We got to the lodge and I warmed up by the stove with a hot drink. I made myself drink an entire nalgene full of hot tea (dehydration, acclimatization and I really like the bathrooms… not. They are better than peeing off the trail in these temps, though! ). I read in my trusty Lonely Planet that there is a weather research station about twenty minutes from Lobuche. It's nicknamed the "Italian Pyramid" because of the glass pyramid on top. It was built by two Italians; one a mountaineer and one a geologist. There's a sign about 10 minutes from the lodge and you can see the top of the pyramid pointing skyward in-between the overlapping hills. You get to see the Lobuche glacier, on your right, also, as your hiking up.

When I got there, the place looked deserted. There were signs on all the doors that said "No entrance without permission," so I decided to just walk around, check out the pyramid and walk back. As I was making my way past the main building and up to the pyramid, a young guy, maybe early twenties, came out of the building and asked if I wanted a tour. Sure did. We walked into the pyramid from a door on the side. The room opened up on the left and a hallway ran down the center of it. We walked down the hallway, passed one lab and into another. There were scientific posters all over the wall. Most of the research they had been doing included temperature fluctuations in the area and glaciers , metals in the water, glacial melting rates and global warming. They had a pretty small lab, but there were water samples filling the counters and freezers. There was a bit of a language gap between the guy and I, but I did get that most of the collection was done here and then sent out for analysis. He also told me that this building wasn't used much anymore and when I went outside I could see the new, bigger lab on the hill above us - there was no fancy pyramid on it, though. That is where most of the scientists worked, although none of them were there at the moment. He took me into the meeting hall afterwards and I thumbed through the Ev-K2-CNR brochure. Lots and lots of abstracts for lots and lots of publications. It was all really interesting. If only I was in the market for a job (and I knew anything about weather science)!

I had plenty of time left in the day, but it was cold, looked like it was going to start snowing again and snuggling up with my book with a hot drink sounded nice, so I went back to the lodge. I was right, my book and a hot drink were nice :) There were some new people, and several of the people I'd been seeing on the trail, so reading my book was interspersed with how people's trips were going, what they were going to do after this, other places they'd been and whatever other topic came up. I usually get so many good travel tips out of these talks. It seems like there's always a handful of people that have already been where I'm going and have helpful hints and things to see.

I think it was around five, after most of the guests had settled into their spots in the common area since it was the only warm area in the lodge, when the Irish Couple (No, I don't remember their names. Yes, I'm a jerk.) came down from Gorak Shep (our next destination). She was in a pretty bad state. They'd acclimatized in Namche the same day I did, but they'd skipped acclimatizing in Dingboche and that was the last time I had seen them since then. She'd had a headache for the last few days, but was ignoring it to keep on schedule. They'd both been taking Diamox to help them with the altitude, but it wasn't enough. I'm not sure if they had reached Gorak Shep, or had come down before then, but at some point she began to vomit violently and was dizzy to the point of almost passing out. She became lathargic and her husband and guide had practically carried her into the lodge. It was heartbreaking. She was in tears, exhausted and felt defeated. You feel for people who don't make the same goal you're all striving for. You know how difficult it would be to feel like you didn't succeed after all the preparation, planning, hiking to get here, cold nights, no showers, squat toilets, etc. It's not as if she had a choice on turning around. Vomiting and a severe headache are well past the points of acceptable altitude sickness. Once you get past Lobuche, it's not uncommon to have a headache and sleep problems, but this was severe. They discussed heading down, hiring another sherpa to help carry her down and, eventually, a helicopter ($7,000). Walking down wasn't really an option with how tired she was. Walking at all, even for the two men that could have carried her, would have been dangerous with all the fresh snow and ice. That, and it was starting to get dark. The next village wasn't too far away, but that was for a healthy person, walking on their own, with a good headlamp and some really warm clothes. She had stopped vomiting and was warming up with the hot fluids, so they decided to sleep in the common room of the lodge and head out the next morning. Her headache had gotten a little better, but was still there. She did start to regain her color once she warmed up, but it was a sobering reminder not to push too hard. She was bundled in several blankets when I went to bed, trying to drink more liquid and calm down her worried husband.

We were on our way up as they were on their way down, and she looked a lot better after some time at a little lower altitude. She still looked ready, and needed to, get down as soon as possible, but it wasn't as dire a situation as the night before.

Day 7. 4.5 hours. 4.8 miles. I got to nerd out at the Italian Pyramid. I got a sobering reminder to listen to my body. I was getting to base camp tomorro

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EBC - Tengboche (3870m) to Dingboche (4360m)

02/27/2014

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EBC - Tengboche (3870m) to Dingboche (4410m)

We were up around the usual time (seven-ish), out the door and on the trail by eight. This was the morning I discovered Nepal's chocolate pancakes - a little gritty, but smothered in the kind of chocolate syrup you'd put on ice cream. Really good. Not exactly what I had envisioned (I was hoping for Nutella), but really good all the same.

We took the path heading downwards behind Tengboche. The trees would have been filled with rhododendrons had it been later in the season, but, as it was, there was still snow on the ground and none of the trees were blooming. We did run into a new kind of tree - the himalayan birch bark cherry tree. It's dark red color stood out from the brown of the trail, the thinning green of the other trees and the increasing amount of white from the snow.

The first village we entered was Debuche, where we stopped in on the Buddhist nunnery. It was similar to the other monasteries we'd seen, but a little smaller and not quite as decorated (the outside, at least). We took off our shoes, looked in the shrine and tried to stay out of the way of the fluffy but ferocious rat sized white dog tied up near the door.

We passed a not so old, collapsed suspension bridge that I tried to erase from memory before we got to the next one. We ended up only crossing a few bridges that day and the next one was a small, wooden bridge that looked more inviting than the suspension bridges anyway. We passed a few more small towns and stopped for lunch more out of cold than hunger (for me, at least). We weren't really gaining a ton of elevation until right before Dingboche and with the lower temps and smaller ascents and descents, it felt colder than it had been. I was hiking in all of my thicker thermal layers by this point. When we walked into our lunch spot, Natalia and Jono, the young Australian couple, were finishing their lunch and keeping a puppy warm. They'd noticed him on the floor, about half way through their lunch, staring up at them. They handed him off to me as they left and Netra and I took turns holding him while we ate. If I could have carried him with me, and I'd had a doggy sweater, I would have taken the little guy. We gave him some of our leftover rice (rice doubles as dog and cat food in Nepal) and were on our way.

We decided to stay in Dingboche instead of the 130 meter lower Pheriche because my acclimatization was going better and the acclimatization hike we were doing the next day was out of Dingboche. We made the last, step filled climb of about an hour and picked one of the first lodges we saw. The hike had only lasted about five and a half hours, and an hour of that lunch, so we got there early in the day. I spent my extra time reading, writing in my journal, getting to know Natalia and Jono better and comparing notes on the trail and what we thought of the trek thus far.

Day 5. 4.5 hours. 7.5 miles. A short day with time to read and make new friends :)

EBC - Acclimatization day from Dingboche to Chhukung Ri

The next day was an acclimatization day and neither of us were super motivated to hike Chhukung Ri like we had planned. It sounded pretty intense day and I was ready for a bit of a break. Even though we hadn't really been hiking more than six hours a day, we were on day five of continuous hiking. My legs were getting used to it, it was still a lot of climbing and they were tired. We had breakfast late (for us) and I got ready at a slower than average pace. I don't even think we were out of the lodge until almost nine. We hiked about three hours up through Dingboche to the next town of Chhukung. It was a slow, steady gain in elevation and we were walking mainly through brown grass and boulder fields with a half frozen river on our right.

When we made it to Chhukung, we stopped for a quick lunch of soup and tea before we decided to hike up the peak until we felt like turning around. I didn't really think we'd make it too far. You could see the trail from the lodge, and it gained a lot of elevation in a hurry. It did, luckily, alternate between going up and then across, but it was one of those hikes where it either looks like the trail is stretching out for miles in front of you, or there's another climb after you finished what you thought must the last one. In reality, there's really only two main summits connected by a saddle, but there's so many small hills that it feels like a never-ending up and down. There was a field of cairns (man-made piles of rocks) on the sadde and we stopped and took a rest. The saddle ran in-between the false summit and the summit, so I could see the final destination. Too late to turn around now!

There were zero trees this high and the landscape was all grey rocks or white snow. From here we could see the rest of the trail and it looked like it continued on the ridge for a while, then veered to the right, making it a scramble for the last little bit. It did, in fact, come off the ridge near the peak for the last push. The trail was a thin, invisible at times, path of small flattened rocks that moved underneath your feet. Large, uneven boulders surrounded it and either gave you a hand hold or an obstacle, depending on the position of the boulder with reference to the trail. There were several spots where I lost the trail and I'd look up to see it above me, just a few feet. Sounds easy to get up a few feet, but between the rocks and the slope of the mountain, it wasn't. But, we continued to scramble until we made it to the top. I was exhausted by the time we got there. The view and the "5535 m" written on a rock gave me some fresh energy, though. This was actually the highest elevation of the trip. Base camp is only 5364 m and even the highest point of the Cho La pass is 5420 m. I had felt the altitude coming up, the shortness of breath and a slight headache coming on, but I wasn't too worried about it. We were dropping back down to sleep at 4410 m, so I was definitely following the "hike high, sleep low" advice. I also hoped that it would help me further along the trail as we started to sleep at higher and higher elevations.

I took pictures of the snowy mountains surrounding us, the glaciers and the clouds creeping into the valley below us. I took a ton of pictures on this hike and I put a lot of them on the blog because, I think, especially with the clouds, it was an incredible view. My camera and photography skills don't do it justice, but, it really was an incredible scene. Magical is the best word I can think to describe it. Humbling is another good one. Mountains are massive, powerful, dangerous, but inviting and begging for exploration at the same time. I think it's something about mother nature in general - demanding respect, but rewarding you ten times over when you give it. My favorite part was watching the clouds engulf the valley below me. They crept up towards us, making it impossible to see anything below the middle of the surrounding mountains. It was like watching the tide of the ocean. A white ocean that kept coming rather than lapping back and forth. Ok, I'm done with the metaphors and similes, but it really was mesmerizing to be surrounded by those mountains and peaks and watch the clouds roll in.

We were at the top for maybe half an hour, soaking it all in. After watching the clouds roll in and checking the time we decided we should start our descent so we could beat the sunset and the threat of snow. The top was slow going, maybe even slower going than the uphill with all of the slipping on rocks. Once the trail wound back on the ridge we quickened our pace. The slope once we got off the saddle was the perfect jogging slope. Those of you that hike probably know that on certain trails, with the right conditions, trail and angle, its easier to slowly jog than try and walk downhill. I think part of it is just the action of not extending your legs fully and giving your knees a break.

We stopped again at the same lodge for a quick cup of warming tea. We met the group of people that were staying there, one being the one and only Utahn I've met so far. The group was also planning on the Cho La pass so we swapped itineraries and realized we'd probably see each other again soon. Done with our tea, we left in a hurry to try and beat the dark. Even then, since there aren't any streetlights in the Himalayas, we spent the last forty five minutes walking in the dark. It was kind of peaceful, though. It wasn't dark enough that we couldn't see the trail ahead of us, but it was getting more and more challenging by the time we finally made it to the lodge, just after six.

Dinner. Content. Exhausted. Bed.

Day 6. Nine hours. 9.6 miles. 5535 meters. Rallying to see the most incredible views yet and the highest spot of the trip!

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