Nepal 3 -In the shadow of Everest

We take the 7.30 am bus to Pokhara. Karma and his wife Karmu accompany us there, his guiding duties are over, but they decide to take a few days holiday with us. Karma is a delightful man, with a fun sense of humour and we all enjoy his company. It’s a lovely bus journey, easy, comfortable and we stop regularly for chais and delicious dal bhat lunch. The journey is  incredibly beautiful, the pale blue, fast-flowing waters running the virtual length of the road to Pokhara and we catch glimpses of rafts on the white rapids. The children knit, embroider, listen to stories, listen to songs, sing songs, watch a video, read their kindles.

Pokhara Is a chilled place, a back-backers’ relax-after-the-arduous-trek place on a lake, where walking boots and trekking are exchanged for sandals and lolling in lakeside sun loungers. We find a suitably chilled bar on the edge of the lake, where Bob Marley is playing to the world, and where there is a large gravelly area for  the kids to play and kick a ball around. We indulge in a cold beer and lassis. This bar ends up being a favourite sundowner for us while we are here. Millie buries herself under the gravel. The lake is surrounded by the higher snowy peaks, though still no sighting of Everest, for we are too far west.

It’s hard not to be aware of that ginormous mountain looming over us and  the rest of the world, but here in its shadow, it seems particularly omnipotent. Mark and I have both been reading “Into Thin Air ” by Jon Krakauer (that’s one of the  advantages of Kindles –  all our books are readily available to read on all our appliances simultaneously.) Just looking up at the snowy slopes of the Annapurna range brings the book to life, as you imagine the treacherous conditions on the highest peaks of Everest. The book recounts the disastrous 1996 ascent of Everest, where 12 people from differing climbing teams lost their lives.  I have a fascination for trying to understand man’s attempts against all odds and at HUGGEEE expense to get to the top of Everest. And I can’t help thinking about It’s significance here in Nepal. Karma, has a spiritual revering of the mountain, for him it is a Holy mountain, and whilst happy to guide people to base Camp 1, it goes against his beliefs to attempt to climb it any further.

We go to the mountain museum, a modern structure, devoted entirely to the highest peaks in Nepal, which is full of school parties, immaculately dressed in school uniforms, the girls all wearing identical plaits doubled up with red ribbons in their hair. They seems more interested in the children than the photographs and maps and our children are getting slightly fed up of posing for endless photos with complete strangers. I tell them it’s pay back time for all those photos of indigenous people we have taken along the way.  The children scramble up a white replica polystyrene look alike of Everest in the museum grounds, in a matter of minutes.

We have no problem whiling away a few days here.

We paddle out in a rowing boat and walk up to a stupa on the top of a hill, with lots of moans from the children “not more trekking!”

I find a wonderful yoga class on the edge of a lake, filled with all nationalities. Not surprisingly the Asian men seem to be a lot more bendy than their Europeans counterparts, and I stretch out my now tight muscles.

A few days here and the children are ready to head home to Karma’s house, which they now call home. Gabriel can play football on the streets with Norbu and his friends and they all disappear with his children into neighbouring houses, usually emerging with a handful of sweets and big grins on their faces, and generally feel the freedom of NOT travelling!  Mark and I wash our clothes on the roof, I am now getting fussy and only wash REALLY  dirty clothes.

I take advantage of a roof top mat and do some early morning yoga. We happily blend into Karma’s house, feeling very at home and relaxed. This has been a very unexpected part of our journey here in Nepal, that the children should have such fun with this family and we are all enjoying being immersed in Nepalese culture.

Fed up with carrying around Mark’s rarely opened, let alone unplayed Ukelele case,  I decide to download a few hopeful learning tools and find a quiet space on my own to have a tinkle.

To mark our departure the next day, we have a special Nepalese supper and the 10 children have a midnight feast at about 10 o’clock and all lie down on mats on the floor for a big sleepover, from the 19-yr old, down to Millie.

When we eventually come to leave, all the kids have tears rolling down their cheeks, and we all make firm promises to stay in touch and come back soon.