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| Dingboche |
"Porter", the cook's assistant who carried my pack up the rock section of Island Peak and helped me immeasurably in doing so, brings me "bed tea" at 5:30AM this morning. After the invigorating tea, I pack up, "The Mother of God" (large wheeled pack) with all the stuff I won't need for a few days of "normal" trekking) (ie, I pack up ice axe, plastic boots, extra clothing, etc). Lal will take this down the hill and leave in Lukla for me to pick up when I fly back to Kathmandu. I'm left with 35 pounds, a manageable amount for me without having to use a porter.
Breakfast is served at 6AM in the dining room. The cook staff exit for a moment and I give Lal his tip. This is one of my least favorite activities, distributing tips. I find it stressful, wondering whether I am giving enough, too much, whether the recipient will be happy. The trekking companies typically give zero guidance in this regard. Their standard refrain is, "Give whatever you feel is justified".
From taking trips with the company, "Mountain Travel", in years past, I know that it is easy to give an amount that is not a big burden for us, but which can easily distort the local economy. If every porter were to receive $100 for example, it quickly drives up the price of porters, and the things which porters will buy. In any case, Lal seems to be happy with what I give him, and I hear no complaints from the others as I discretely make my way round to them.
Lal and I exchange contact info, and Cook also wants my contact info. I suggest to Cook that he write it down so that he is sure he can read it. He hands the pen to Lal to do and it dawns on me that he is illiterate. I later soften my judgement to, "illiterate in English", as he may well be able to read and write in Nepali. Still, an interesting experience to witness this when we all take for granted that we can read and write.
I get a few photos of Porter as he heads down the hill with "Mother of God" on his back (along with a stack of stuff on top of that...) I figure Jansport might be interested in this for an advertisement, "You never know where your "Mother of God" might find itself, perhaps on Everest!")
I've enjoyed my time with Lal and the trekking team. They got me safely to the top of Island Peak, (6189m), higher than I've ever been before. Although we pushed hard, I felt safe the entire way. If you like the sound of my trek/climb in Nepal or are otherwise interested in trekking or climbing in Nepal or Tibet, you can use Khum's company:
www.uniquetreks.com.
Later today, I find myself in the kitchen at the Peaceful Lodge, (our lodging in Dingboche), talking with "Portuguide", the guide of the Portuguese couple I met several days ago. Some of the lodge's kitchen staff come in and before long I feel like one of the gang. They offer me tea and we chat informally. I ask about their business and learn that the daughter of the old woman is the Owner. Her husband, "Hubby", speaks pretty good English, having worked as a guide for a number of years, and he is the source of most of my info. It will take them 15 years to pay off the loan on this large stone building. They run about 40% occupancy during the year, 100% for the months of Oct/Nov, 50% for Mar/Apr/May and a dribble for the rest of the year.
Always the curious engineer, I inquire about their waterworks. Hubby explains they have a 500 meter pipe from their water source. Every dwelling in the village (about 150) has its own pipe. Hubby explains that while it would be cheaper and better if they were to band together and create a common water infrastructure, it has not happened. In Dec/Jan/Feb their pipe freezes and they make a five minute walk to the river and chop a hole in the ice to collect their water. Sounds like life 100 years ago in America!
I ask why it is that all the lodges are run by old women. Hubby explains that in most cases the men of the house are off guiding or doing porter duties elsewhere. I get this confirmed later at another lodge, where the woman's husband is a porter on an Everest expedition. She proudly showed me his picture at the top of Everest from a previous expedition.
We hear some nuzzling by the door and the old woman pokes her head out and shoos away the cow and her calf. They know that around this time, they will be treated to the slop bucket, into which vegatable peelings and other kitchen scraps go. This is especially important at high altitude where grass only grows during a short time of the year. The cows amble toward a blade of grass, sometimes they amble when they need to poop, but don't be in the way of the cows when the slop comes out, else you'll be mowed down like a freight train hit you.
Portuguide explains that prices in the tourist corridor are about 10x higher than the rest of Nepal. His village is near the border with India and he can buy a glass of tchang there for 5Rs, which would be 50Rs in the whole Everest region. Dal bhat costs about 200Rs here and about 20Rs in his village for an equivalent portion.
Portuguide offers that he will be guiding the Portuguese couple (Miguel and Naomi) down to Tengboche tomorrow and I'm welcome to tag along if I wish. It's a kind offer and I accept, glad for the company. I retire after a quick dinner.
Lal and I exchange contact info, and Cook also wants my contact info. I suggest to Cook that he write it down so that he is sure he can read it. He hands the pen to Lal to do and it dawns on me that he is illiterate. I later soften my judgement to, "illiterate in English", as he may well be able to read and write in Nepali. Still, an interesting experience to witness this when we all take for granted that we can read and write.
I get a few photos of Porter as he heads down the hill with "Mother of God" on his back (along with a stack of stuff on top of that...) I figure Jansport might be interested in this for an advertisement, "You never know where your "Mother of God" might find itself, perhaps on Everest!")
I've enjoyed my time with Lal and the trekking team. They got me safely to the top of Island Peak, (6189m), higher than I've ever been before. Although we pushed hard, I felt safe the entire way. If you like the sound of my trek/climb in Nepal or are otherwise interested in trekking or climbing in Nepal or Tibet, you can use Khum's company:
www.uniquetreks.com.
Later today, I find myself in the kitchen at the Peaceful Lodge, (our lodging in Dingboche), talking with "Portuguide", the guide of the Portuguese couple I met several days ago. Some of the lodge's kitchen staff come in and before long I feel like one of the gang. They offer me tea and we chat informally. I ask about their business and learn that the daughter of the old woman is the Owner. Her husband, "Hubby", speaks pretty good English, having worked as a guide for a number of years, and he is the source of most of my info. It will take them 15 years to pay off the loan on this large stone building. They run about 40% occupancy during the year, 100% for the months of Oct/Nov, 50% for Mar/Apr/May and a dribble for the rest of the year.
Always the curious engineer, I inquire about their waterworks. Hubby explains they have a 500 meter pipe from their water source. Every dwelling in the village (about 150) has its own pipe. Hubby explains that while it would be cheaper and better if they were to band together and create a common water infrastructure, it has not happened. In Dec/Jan/Feb their pipe freezes and they make a five minute walk to the river and chop a hole in the ice to collect their water. Sounds like life 100 years ago in America!
I ask why it is that all the lodges are run by old women. Hubby explains that in most cases the men of the house are off guiding or doing porter duties elsewhere. I get this confirmed later at another lodge, where the woman's husband is a porter on an Everest expedition. She proudly showed me his picture at the top of Everest from a previous expedition.
We hear some nuzzling by the door and the old woman pokes her head out and shoos away the cow and her calf. They know that around this time, they will be treated to the slop bucket, into which vegatable peelings and other kitchen scraps go. This is especially important at high altitude where grass only grows during a short time of the year. The cows amble toward a blade of grass, sometimes they amble when they need to poop, but don't be in the way of the cows when the slop comes out, else you'll be mowed down like a freight train hit you.
Portuguide explains that prices in the tourist corridor are about 10x higher than the rest of Nepal. His village is near the border with India and he can buy a glass of tchang there for 5Rs, which would be 50Rs in the whole Everest region. Dal bhat costs about 200Rs here and about 20Rs in his village for an equivalent portion.
Portuguide offers that he will be guiding the Portuguese couple (Miguel and Naomi) down to Tengboche tomorrow and I'm welcome to tag along if I wish. It's a kind offer and I accept, glad for the company. I retire after a quick dinner.
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