suffer the feet

9.16.2012

The plan was to begin the trek at eight this morning.  The rain falls and there is no let up.  We can leave tomorrow.  The Aussies are in the dining room by seven am, happily chatting, all four simultaneously.  They are volunteering at a clinic in Pokhara.  Jolly good. 

Patterns have been true with regards to the weather, four days no rain, four days rain.  If this holds true now, then tomorrow should start a new pattern, hopefully of the dry kind.  Laxman prepares breakfast for the travelers, my noses itches and won’t stop.  It is good the chef isn’t asking me to help him chop onions and tomatoes. 

Oh I want to walk but not in the rain.  The painters finished the table legs and chairs and there is nothing else for them to paint except for the rooms.  The consensus is to wait until the rain finishes and that could be a few more weeks.  Crap. 

It is much easier to write and think when you can’t understand anything the people around you are saying.   Funny enough listening to Kiwis and Aussies is like listening to Nepalis.  Their bending of vowels never ceases to A-mize me. 

It encourages to hear the west continues to try and improve life for others.  We all believe what has worked for us can work for others.  Improving hygiene, persuading younger generations of a better morality, oh wait a second, I don’t know, Lad, each generation has had its share of murderers, thieves and anarchists.  Imagine the descendents of criminals and the insane sharing coffee, eggs, and civility in the morning fog.  

Fried eggs, curry potatoes and toast standing up at the new reception-bar.  The nicest aspect so far about the new dining room ceiling is the reduction of noise from a downpour, which hasn’t let up in the past two hours.  The painters are in their fine clothes, the oldest has shaved his thick black moustache off.   

Brighter skies overcast thickness remains.  We could leave anytime but how far would we go?  It would add another day.  The forecast at the ABC calls for rain every day for the next five days but when does that rain fall?  Laxman is relieved to wait another day.  His goal is the ABC and to be back here by the start of the month.  For now, there isn’t much to do outside, though the dining room floor and the windows could be cleaned.

Fog rolls into and fills the valleys.  The three painters have finished everything except for the rooms which Maya does not wish them to start.  They stand in front of room two looking over into the nothing.  What now, our next job, our next salary.   If it hadn’t rained in the morning we would be close to the first village enroute to higher places.  Trekking in fog is better than trekking in rain.  Fog doesn’t soak.  The eyes itch of Bengali algae.  Close the door and the window.  It won’t help, it’ll seep through under the door and come up and jump into my eyes and nose.

And here a cup of Masala chai arrives.  Masala chai, fog, chillum, and a good book or a place to write.  The good book, Trinity, is almost finished.  I foolishly hope it won’t end because it has been so good but it makes me want to read ‘Exodus’ or Uris’s other works.  Maya says my bag is too heavy.  ‘two shirts, two socks…’ if I wore the boots I could reduce the weight a lot and if I were to leave the sandals behind, I’d be taking a great risk since I don’t know how my feet are gonna feel after six hours uphill in new shoes.  Gee, should I repack?  Oh to travel lightly is a good thing, acha, but lighter than this begins with the comfort of my feet.  What to do.

A calm evening, an eight am start is on.  I am so ready to go despite knowing climbing will bring me back to the guest house imagining sitting around doing nothing, not panting, not sweating, not being exhausted.  But the climb, that is, like the ‘experts’ say, the exercise is a natural stimulant.  A goal to reach creates the desire to perform for no one in mind other than to say, I did it. The panting, the sweating, the state of exhaustion is not something to fear, it’s something to finish a six hour climb at 11,000ft and say I did it.  I feel good.  Thank you Jesus, thank you for suffering and thank you Buddha for explaining why we suffer.  Selfish in a way but the reason to go isn’t selfish.

This sneezing blows…