Introduction

April 1:
Kathmandu
April 2:
Kathmandu
April 3:
Kathmandu
April 4:
Lukla and Phakding
April 5:
Namche
April 6:
Between Namche and Thyangboche
April 7:
Thyangboche
April 8:
Thyangboche
April 9:
Dingboche
April 10:
Dingboche
April 12:
Lobuche

and
Beyond

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Trek photos by Peter Potterfield, © 1997 The Zone Network. All rights Reserved.

I'm awakened in my absurd cubicle by the sound of strange chants, horns and gongs. Freddy Blume snores away, oblivious, but my interest is piqued. Looking out the lodge window I can see a couple of red-robed, head-shaved monks actually hanging out a second-floor window of the monastery, shouting in that strange way they have, blowing those Bronx-cheer horns and banging a small gong. The sky is a crystalline blue, and I'm thinking this could be good.

It looks like what a Buddhist monastery high in the Himalaya should look like.

I hurry to dress and run outside, and the scene blows me away. Looking north, Mount Everest stands black and impossibly high above the long ridge of Nuptse, and Ama Dablam is a vision draped in a mantle of new snow. Explorer Bill Tillman, one of the first Europeans to come here, said, "It would be difficult to imagine a finer site for worship or contemplation." He's still right, it's a remarkable setting and a powerful place. This cloudless morning, this glorious spot, has banished the depression of yesterday.

Later that day the rinpoche of the monastery, the head holy man, agrees to see and bless the members of the expedition. We're first led into the ornate main hall of the monastery, elaborately painted in Buddhist motifs and dominated by the two story high Buddha. It looks like what a Buddhist monastery high in the Himalaya should look like. A monk hands each one of us khatas, into which we put a couple of hundred rupees and fold them up. Everyone antes up, it would make no sense to gyp the rinpoche when he's offered to bless the hazardous climb ahead.

Next we are lead by a monk into a small chamber where the rinpoche sits at a throne-like chair behind a spindly, ornate table. Two old but clearly subservient monks sit on cushions before him. One by one, the rinpoche greets us, takes the khatas from us, and shakes each one until the rupee notes fall out on us and then to the floor. The rinpoche then places the khata around our necks. Next he produces some red string, blows on it, and another monk ties it around our necks. The rinpoche then claps his hands sharply, twice, and we are dismissed.