"In the Shadow of Giants"
                     

Pokhara, Kathmandu
21 April 2003

I caught a glimpse of a chorten, essentially a Buddhist rockpile, decorated with the ubiquitous five colored prayer flags, peeking at us from just over the next rise. We decided to stop for a break in a small sheltered boulder field for a rest before what we hoped would be final push to the summit of the Thorung La Pass at 5320m feet. Its one of the highest navigable mmountain passes in the world, saddled between two 6,000m peaks in the Annapurna Himalayas in Western Nepal.

Marko, Irene, and I had been walking for about four hours now, taking breaks every twenty minutes or so after our 6am start from high camp at 4,800 meters. We were well acclimitized and it helped as none of us suffered from headaches or nausea or other symptoms of altitude sickness. I took a drink from my water bottle and caught my breath...

THE FELLOWSHIP GATHERS

I met Marko and Irene at a slide show on Annapurna given in Kathmandu by this British photojournalist to acquiant newcomers with the region and the possible treks. We decided to band together with another couple, Tom and Shelly, from the UK, and tackle the three-week long Annapurna Circuit. Given the dearth of trekkers, down some 80% this year due to the Maoist rebellion and war in Iraq, we all came hoping to meet others to trek with.

On the first day of the hike, we picked up Ian, a wonderful Australian physician and enjoyed some wonderful company and shared the wonders of the trail, each new turn, vista, village, and bridge.

A WALK THROUGH REAL LIFE

The Annapurna trail, unlike many treks in the world, serves primarily as the main thoroughfare for the Nepali inhabitants of that area, not solely a remote trek for dedicated hikers. The local consist mainly subsistance farmers, but also those who run the cottage industry of teahouses and shops serving trekkers.

Every few minutes, we passed a local villager on the path coming or going. We'd greet each other with the traditional Nepali "namaste" which means 'I salute the light inside you,' while simultaneously holding our hands together in front of our faces in a sign of prayer.

   
 
  Typical bridges on the Annapurna Circuit, some new sit right alongside the old, and they are use by man as well as animal, often bridging a thousand foot chasm.
 
           
 

The Nepalis are a deeply spiritual people, like many people dependent on the land and the vagaries of weather and nature to provide them life's necessities (and not the ups and downs of the Dow Jones). All along the trail lie religious totems and we sometimes detoured off the trail to make sure we passed the chortens on the correct side - our right.

The entrance to every village features a long wall with 'prayer wheels' which you must walk on the left side of (your right side to the wall); and if inclined, run your hand along the wheels, sending prayers to the heavens. I spun them all (not wanting to jinx myself - yet I won't pass on chain letters?), saying the traditional mantra "om mani padme hum" which translates into 'I salute the jewel in the lotus' - a reference from Hindu and Buddhist thought.

HOME AWAY FROM HOME

Over the years, the supply of Western luxuries rose to meet the demand from soft trekkers, desiring a Coke or Mars bar at the end of a long day. Cloned menus in each guesthouse offered dishes like pizza and spaghetti along with Nepali curry, rice and noodles. But it was the daal baht that sustained us for most of the trek.

 

I heard a lot about daal baht from friends who had trekked here before, and dined on this staple from day one onward. For maybe $1.50, one received a tin plate of steamed rice, vegetarian curry, and lentil soup of varying thickness - the daal. Each region cooked this dish with slight variations. The key thing about daal baht: its all you can eat, gratifying after trekking for six hours in the mountains.

Given the dearth of trekkers, the local merchants struggled for any business possible, often offering us a free bed for the night or sharply reduced rates to get us into their hostel. I felt especially sorry for the lodge owners, who clearly put some hard earned and precious money into small touches like drapes and sheets to make us less homesick. It seemed clear that many villages depending on tourists suffered from the fall in visitors.

continued on the next page.

 
             
 
        © Copyright 2006 Michael W. Seto. All rights reserved.