Beyond the summit: An Everest adventure and Romance Read online

  INTRODUCTION

  After a treaty in 1816 that left the government distrustful of foreigners, Nepal closed its borders to all outsiders and lived in isolation from the modern world. During that period, the Shahs ruled as if it were their private domain. Ninety-five percent of the population, mostly peasants, were no more than slaves serving the needs of the regime. They had no concept that a different way of life existed. No newspapers were published in Nepal and none were imported. Radios were banned until 1946. There was no public education nor were there any public libraries. All expressions of the arts or literature were discouraged.

  In 1951, the king regained his throne and re-opened the doors. Unfortunately, Nepal now had to catch up on hundreds of years of development. The country needed telephones, radios, aviation, education, health care and hospitals, money and a banking system, sanitation, business, and manufacturing. To achieve this all at once was a monumental task. Although foreign aid flowed in from around the world, there was no coordination of programs. Everyone wanted immediate economic returns from business and industry such as the brick works created with Chinese aid and the cigarette factory built by the Russians. Less glamorous amenities such as transportation and sanitation were pushed aside.

  In 1968, this tiny kingdom the size of Iowa contained a population of just over 10.5 million. Composed of 21 distinct tribes speaking as many languages with numerous sub dialects, they could not understand each other. Ninety-two percent of the population was Hindu and only 8% Buddhist, primarily hill tribes such as the Sherpas who migrated from Tibet 500 years earlier bringing Tibetan Buddhism with them.

  Nepal contains eight of the world’s ten highest mountains. Everest, the tallest, sits astride the border with Tibet. Until 1951, climbers approached the peak unsuccessfully from the north. Then in 1953, Edmund Hillary of New Zealand and Tenzing Norgay Sherpa made an ascent from Nepal and were the first to reach the 29,035-foot summit. During the next 12 years, many expeditions followed until the government placed a ban on all mountaineering from 1965-1969 because of tension during the Chinese Cultural Revolution.

  Sherpas had a higher standard of living than most due to a flourishing trade industry between Tibet, southern Nepal, and India. Those in Namche served as middlemen with a virtual monopoly since the government allowed no traders to travel further north or south than the Khumbu village. But suddenly the livelihood that had sustained them for generations came to an abrupt halt in 1959 when the Chinese closed the Tibetan border.

  Fortunately the Sherpas had also gained fame as high-altitude porters. They came into demand for all Himalayan expeditions when even larger numbers of climbers poured into the country. Having never been interested in scaling peaks, they were now exposed to unknown risks, and subsequently many perished. When Hillary asked what he could do for the Sherpas who had helped him climb Everest, they replied that their children had eyes but could not see. Hillary then built a school in Khumjung in 1961 and a hospital in Khunde in 1966. Anticipating the need to bring in medical supplies, he constructed an airstrip at Lukla in 1964 that reduced the travel time from Kathmandu from two weeks of arduous trekking to a forty-five minute flight. This single event opened the floodgates of tourism as hundreds then thousands of hikers came from all over the world to walk in the Himalayas and see Mt Everest.

  No longer confined to the dangers of working for expeditions, the Sherpas now found employment leading trekkers through their hills and villages. After 134 years of cultural and technological isolation, the influx of tourism thrust them from the Middle Ages in the modern world and dramatically altered their lives forever.

  GLOSSARY

  Aalu: Potato

  Baabu: Father

  Baja: Grandmother

  Bardo: A transitional after-death state

  Bidi: Cigarette made of a pinch of tobacco and rolled in a leaf

  Bistarai: Slowly

  Chaane: Protective mixture of blessed grains of rice and sand from a mandala

  Chang: Locally brewed beer made from fermented barley, rice, millet, or maize

  Chapati: Flat, round, unleavened bread cooked over an open fire

  Charpi: Asian toilet—a hole in the ground

  Chorten: Buddhist structure, conical in shape, made of plastered rocks

  Chomolungma: Tibetan word for Everest, Mother Goddess of the world

  Damaru: Hourglass shaped drum made from human half skulls

  Dem-chang:Beer typing ceremony that confirms a proposal.

  Dhal bhaat: Rice with lentil broth. A staple food

  Dhyangro: A two-headed drum

  Doko: Basket used by porters, supported by a tumpline over the head

  Dumje: Major Buddhist festival held at the village for the benefit of all

  Dung-chen: Long telescoping horn

  Gompa: Tibetan Buddhist monastery

  Kani: Covered gateway decorated with scenes of local deities and Buddha

  Kata: White ceremonial scarf presented to guests or lamas on special occasions

  Lawa: Host for the Dumje celebration

  Lungta: Wind horse—prayer flag

  Madal: Small, cylindrical drum with skin on either end, played with both hands

  Mandala: Sacred diagram in geometric shape representing the world, created in sand

  Mani: Tibetan Buddhist prayer inscribed in rock

  Mikaru: “White eyes” term used to describe foreigners

  Mendan: Long wall composed of mani stones

  Momo: Pasta stuffed with meat or vegetables, similar to pot stickers

  Naamlo: Hemp tumpline of a doko

  Nak: Female yak

  Nagi: River spirit

  Namaste: Traditional Nepalese greeting. “I salute the divine qualities in you.”

  Om mani padme hum: Mantra often used during meditation and prayer.

  Pak: Dough ball of tsampa, sugar, and nuts

  Patni: Wife

  Pem: Witch

  Puja: Religious offering or prayer

  Rai: A Nepalese tribes that lives south of the Khumbu

  Rigi kur: Crispy potato pancakes served with a big lump of yak butter

  Sarangi: Small, four-stringed instrument played with a horsehair bow

  Sem: Spirit of a dead person

  Serac: Iisolated block of ice that’sis formed where the glacier surface is fractured

  Sirdar: Sherpa in charge of organizing and managing a trekking or climbing group

  Sherpani: Female Sherpa

  Shrindi: Malignant ghost that wanders restlessly, often causing human suffering

  Sodene: Marriage proposal made by the father of the groom to the girl’s parents

  Sönam: Merit one accumulates over a lifetime to determine the next level of reincarnation

  Sutra: A discourse of the Buddha

  Sungdi: Thin braided string of red nylon blessed by a lama, protects the wearer

  Thanka: Religious scroll painting usually of mandalas or deities

  Thukpa: Sherpa stew

  Toi ye: Damn

  Topi: Nepal’s national, brimless cap made of multi-colored cloth

  Torma: Conical flour cake decorated with colored butter to depict gods and demons

  Tsampa: Roasted barley flour, staple food for Sherpas

  Years: Temporary settlement used to pasture animals during the summer

  Yeti: Nepal’s abominable snowman

  Zhum: Female crossbreed of yak and cow, used for milking

  Zopkio: Male crossbreed of yak and cow, used for transport

  Zendi: Final wedding ceremony

  CHAPTER 1

  1968

  Everest. Drawn to the mountai
n since Hillary made the first ascent when she was eight, Beth had finally arrived in Nepal on a writing assignment. And now leaving Kathmandu for the home of the Sherpas living in the shadows of the highest point on earth, the Twin Otter soared through a thin mist revealing the jagged outline of distant snow-capped peaks and clouds hanging above the mountains like brush strokes of deep red, purple, and pink framed in lapis blue. Glued to the window, Beth watched the land unfold beneath her in deep green terraces with rock retaining walls that looked like dark wrinkles contouring the hillsides. And all around, white-capped rivers carved deep, meandering gorges through the Himalayas.

  Half an hour into the forty-minute flight, a fierce gust lifted the plane and dropped it hard almost bouncing her out of the seat. Shaking wildly on the final approach through a valley hemmed in by steep-sided mountains, the Otter rose again and then suddenly plummeted.

  White-knuckled, Beth grabbed Eric’s arm. “What did the pilot say about that blood smeared all over the nose of the plane?”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. “We’ll be fine. It’s an offering to the goddess Durga to protect the plane . . . and us.”

  Her stomach crawled to the roof of her mouth as the plane rolled, bumped, and tossed toward a runway perched on a high shelf. At 9,200 feet in the heart of the Himalayas, the gravel airstrip at Lukla was the most terrifying she’d ever seen. Appearing far too short to land on, it sloped dramatically uphill about ten degrees with a six-hundred-foot sheer rock face looming straight ahead. She gulped, staring at the far mountain at the end of the landing strip and a steep-angled cliff on the approach. As they neared, she glimpsed a downed plane at the bottom of the cliff and imagined crashing and plunging into flames to join it.

  Then the stall alarm sounded.

  Beth gripped Eric’s arm tighter. “What was that screeching sound?”

  “Don’t know. But this has gotta be the most dangerous airport in the world.”

  The Otter did a sharp left turn and dove straight at the cliff with its engines roaring in protest. Straining against the back of the seat, Beth abandoned breathing as they prepared to touch down. “We’re going too fast!”

  “But remember the pilot saying the uphill slope of the runway would help slow the plane.”

  Instead of landing, the plane veered sharply to the right in a valley seeming too narrow for turns and immediately rose to avoid slamming into the mountain.

  “The wind is angry today,” the pilot shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll have to try again tomorrow and hope for no fog and little wind.”

  None of the fourteen passengers complained about turning back. An elderly woman seated across from Beth vomited into a paper bag, and she wasn’t certain her own stomach would ever return to its rightful place. Anxious to begin writing about the Sherpas and Everest region, she hoped they wouldn’t be delayed too long.

  Two Days Earlier

  Beth and Eric’s flight from Bangkok landed mid afternoon at the international airport in Kathmandu. They quickly searched for a rickshaw taxi large enough to carry all their gear for several weeks in the hills plus Eric’s equipment. He was a much sought after photographer, her intimate companion and co-worker for almost a year now. They had traveled to Botswana, Kenya, and the jungles of Borneo where she wrote and he took photographs. Because this trip meant so much to her, Eric had given up his dream assignment photographing the war in Viet Nam.

  After refusing the common three-wheeled- bicycle rickshaws crowding around them, they finally located one with both a front and back seat. The five wheels and cloth roof were covered with brightly painted images of Hindu gods and spirits, and marigolds adorned the arched, open front. Eager to experience every sight, smell, and sound, Beth leaned forward with her arms on her knees and hair flapping in the wind like a dog with its head out a car window.

  Kathmandu. The very name evoked exotic images and she absorbed every possible one as they drove along potholed, twisted lanes lined by wall-to-wall brick buildings covered with broken tiles and mud roofs sprouting grass. She tugged at Eric’s sleeve as they passed ancient, elaborately carved wooden windows and doorways where the decaying figures of gods and goddesses still quietly guarded the houses. “Great images. Let’s start shooting here.”

  Several blocks later, Beth spotted carvings on a temple of naked men and women in various positions of intercourse. She asked the driver to stop and jumped out of the rickshaw with Eric and camera in tow. “You’ll never find this in a western church.”

  He broke out laughing. “You mean having explicit sex in every possible position? It’s a true photo op if I ever saw one.”

  As Beth watched him snap pictures of the Hindu worship of carnal love and genitalia, she thought what a good team they made and how comfortable they were with each other. Eric was a tall, well-built football player in college. With a long, narrow face and light brown hair, he appealed to her physically and intellectually. Yet there was something missing in their relationship, something elusive.

  They climbed back in the taxi that slowly threaded its way through cows, pigs, goats, and vendors carrying heavily loaded baskets in a current of humanity flowing past like rapids rushing around a boulder. Twice, they had to wait several minutes while a sacred cow meandered in front of them. It had the right of way. Every side street and alley was filled with years of refuse, and the stench from choking dust and open sewers permeated the air, making it thick, putrid, and suffocating. But who cared? This was the Shangri-La Beth had waited 15 years to experience.

  Wearing only a shirt, a small boy squatted at the side of the dirt road to defecate. When two chickens immediately scurried over and fought for the droppings, Eric quickly swore he’d eat no poultry in Nepal. Minutes later, he swore off all meat when they drove down a street of fly-blackened butcher shops with buffalo heads and hooves lying on the ground next to skinned goats with their legs sticking straight up in the air.

  Arriving at their three-story graying hotel, even Beth was a bit put off by the pig and two mangy dogs rummaging through a knee-high pile of garbage only ten feet from the entrance. And the flies! Buzzing from rubbish heaps to steaming piles of shit and back, they swarmed in a dizzying, black cloud.

  After laboriously climbing three flights of winding, rotting stairs to the top floor, Eric threw himself onto the bed with his arms flung out to the side. “God, I’m tired. Let’s just crash until dinner.” The exhaustion of two straight days of travel and numerous time changes soon overcame them both.

  Just before dusk, a howl straight from The Hound of Baskervilles pierced the stillness, followed by blood-curdling yelps, growls, and incessant barking. Beth shot bolt upright, heart pounding. Then she flopped back down chuckling as she remembered reading about packs of wild dogs that roam the city. She gently nudged Eric. “Are you awake? I’m starved.”

  Rolling over, he yawned and draped an arm across her. “What can we find?”

  “I don’t know.” She pulled him off the bed. “But let’s go. My stomach’s growling.”

  They wandered through a maze of twisted streets and alleys that opened every so often into small squares containing communal fountains for bathing and doing laundry. Beth washed her hands under a handsomely carved spout but knew better than to drink from it. Drying her hands, she wondered where everybody was rushing. Men clad in white pants with long-sleeved, button-less tunics and the women in colorful saris all headed in the same direction.

  “Come on. Something’s happening. Let’s see what it is.”

  Following them, Beth and Eric discovered a crowd gathered at the upper end of Durbar Square where officers in full uniform stood proudly while a military band played and guns boomed. As they politely made their way through the crowd, a sudden rush of warm liquid sprayed over them.

  “Jesus, what’s this?” Eric growled as he quickly flicked it off his cheek and then stared at the blood on his hand.

  A bearded American in his early twenties was so filthy that he must not have bathed in weeks. He
lit a stone pipe and inhaled. “It’s from the buffalo.”

  “What buffalo?” Beth asked.

  “For the sacrifice. Today’s the big day when Hindus worship the goddess Durga who saved them by destroying some evil demon buffalo.”

  A young Caucasian woman with pale green eyes, stringy brown hair, and a delicate mouth added, “She chopped his head off with her sword and loves to drink blood and eat raw meat. So every year they offer sacrifices by slaughtering thousands of buffalo, goats, and chickens. Pretty soon, the square will be ankle deep in blood.”