remember the chickens

8.29.2012

Seven men-boys slept in rooms seven, eight and five, enjoying the free beer and food in order for them to begin work on the ceiling early.  Most of the work now is the wiring for the twenty lights that are far too many for this room.  Ah well, everyone knows what they’re doing I guess.  And that isn’t much.  Everyone’s waiting for something to be finished before the next step, so the men-boys gather in room five and watch tv. 

Below at Prem-Maya’s house her husband Tika prepares one of his prized chickens for slaughter.  It appears the four Chinese travelers who drink whiskey on their roof have ordered dinner.  Tika takes the white chicken by the neck and walks to the back of the house.  He looks up to see me watching, thankfully far enough to watch but not close enough to repel.  He smiles and I give the sign of the cross before he twists the chicken’s head off. 

There is a mix of haze and cloud today.  Another overnight rain I never heard.  I do not know why I am so tired, a nap a few hours after waking up and another long drowsy afternoon drift in and out of consciousness after the second breakfast at 10:30am.  The door lock for room three is jammed again.  I offered Laxman to pay for new locks.  Meanwhile the men-boy went up earlier to continue with the ceiling. 

Maya’s brother returns home today.  I wonder if he tired of being sent to my room.   ‘No work here, no tourists, my head hurts, my hands no good.  Sleep good. I need to sleep more.’ 

A quick look at jobs.  If I was interested in something, and I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t go now.  September and October are coming.  The trek to the base camps don’t need much planning, and there are only a few things I need to buy such as trail food, tp, socks, warm clothes such as a heavier coat, gloves and ya di da.  On the trek to Muktinah I don’t remember having a heavy coat so maybe it was just the shawls.  I did buy one along the trek.  Gee, I’m not feeling too smart here, it will be pretty cold at the three-mile high level. 

In this month it appears that the male Chinese traveler is more likely to take his shirt off after climbing than anyone else. 

After Nyima, the Tibetan Shaman, performed the puja he left me with four instructions.  One was always be nice to people.  Sounds like the easiest of them but when one is suspicious of one’s intentions when being nice is taken advantage of and quickly like a tiger jumping on its prey we’re on the defensive.  What’s worse is being suspicious of people’s intentions at the beginning.  Forgive me.

Maya came to room six because I didn’t show up for lunch at four because I told her two breakfasts were enough.  At six pm waiting in the garden was a bowl of spicy egg soup and a plate of momos.  And Mana.  He had his own plate with two momos and a splash of chutney.  Pr ogress has been made with the ceiling and today five men here to work on the moving and maintenance of the internet tower eat dal bhat late. 

And with fog and rain closely holding the occupants of this mountain tonite, a brighter moon lurks and radiates light through a darkest pass.