Namaste. The first word you hear when you get to Nepal. It means hello or goodbye, depending on the situation. Until our departure, we will not stop listening to it constantly.
The Lama Hotel is not a hotel as we could imagine, but a camp. It is halfway to Langtang National Park. A set of stone houses, in the best, or wood, Tin plates roofs with the only fastening of some stones on top to avoid flying in a wind day. There are also accommodations, I would not know how to call them. I'm in Sherpa Lodge. It has two heights and could well go through a mountain shelter, But not like those of our beloved Pyrenees, that in comparison are hotels of 4 stars.
From a window I see how the last walkers that are directed appear, Just like me, and
Rooms, more similar to barracks with wood separations, They measure about five square meters. Mine, Being in a corner, It has three windows. From one of them I see how the last walkers who are directed appear, Just like me, and, And of course, The so -called porters. Then I will talk about them.
From another, I see the same, But this time those walkers are already coming down. Both groups will make night in this magical place, in the middle of a thick forest and next to a huge ravine through which water does not stop lowering, And that we are entering the winter and should already carry little flow.
I go to the dark room where my guide says there is a hot water shower. A tiny cabin with a tin door and a small tap with shower. I enter and open the tap. A thread of cold water comes out, Not as cold as the ravine, But cold afterwards. I think that maybe for my guide that is hot, So I take so fast that the water has hardly touched the ground when I have finished. I get out of there telling the guide that the water was cold, And he advises me to light the thermos next time. Shit. A free cold water shower.
I take so fast that the water has hardly touched the ground when I have finished
I take my camera and I'm going to take a little return through the place, little because no more than 100 meters on the way they pass by before moving towards Langtang, The next "great" population. This site invites me to sit and enjoy the people. An old man approaches and asks me where I come from. Of Syabrubesi, the answer. You want to know where I am from. Spain is my answer. Now it's me. "How old are you?». I am surprised to hear 78. We establish a comfortable conversation in an Indian English, since both he and me we manage better in our mother tongue.
After a while its wooden fence will be fixed so that the cow does not escape. Repairs it with bamboo cane strips, that abound here. I'm surprised to see how those strips endure, And more like the tense. After giving the two sticks a couple of turns, one vertical and another horizontal, Turn your fingers with the strip until you can no longer, And ready, No knots, Not anything else, That is enough.
The rays that cross the humid branches of the trees and the water of the ravine give the place a mystical air
His wife is with his two grandchildren taking something that I don't finish knowing what is. Seeing them I imagine that since childhood they are taught the basic tasks of this life in a mountain village. I imagine that without that knowledge they would not last a month in this place with really hard conditions. Temperatures below zero, food supply to more than 6 hours walking and more than 1.000 vertical meters.
I'm still enjoying the last rays of sun to bathe my face. Rays cross the humid branches of trees, that together with the water of the ravine that clashes with the round rocks it gives it a mystical air. Immediately, I see my peace interrupted by a group of adolescents Boy Scouts in shorts, Short manga cotton t -shirts, Mountain boots and gordinate wool socks down to the end of the footwear cane.
I see my peace interrupted by a group of adolescents Boy Scouts in shorts
They are accompanied by two monitors, One of them very similar to dolls that had a child. Military pants rolled up to the knees, and inflated like a balloon for gym hours or anabolizing. The guy is noted that he likes to show his physiognomy. For what I understand, They don't fit in a Lodge, So after signing a pipiolo, he rises to the next Lodge. It is taking stone jumps in stone, While the teenager looks impressed and follows.
My high mountain experience tells me that very muscular people, And this guy is exaggeratedly, At altitude they have a fatal, Well, the evil is visited before others. All that amount of oversized muscles need a lot of oxygen, oxygen that from 3.000 meters begins to scarce. It really does not scarce, is the same amount, But as the pressure is lower, Oxygen molecules are more separate, and for every breath, Less air enters the lungs. We are a 2.450 meters high and tomorrow we will reach the 3.500. The boy scouts and their fornid monitor did not go beyond Langtang.
The boy scouts and their fornid monitor did not go beyond Langtang
The porters, They are incredibly strong people although of thin complexion and can load with twice their weight or more. In the expeditions to Everest each of them loads with more than 100 kg with the help of ropes that rolling for the load and thanks to a small tape that adjusts on the forehead. Some go with flip flops and socks for stony terrain and slippery.
For this trekking they usually charge some 10 euros daily and accommodation and food are included. My carrier is a short guy, Desalized and quite dirty. I think if I were, would be equally dirty. Not everyone has a possibility of having a hot water shower, And 5º I don't think it's very funny to get under a stream of water that should not be much hotter. It is quiet. My guide makes him enter a tea house. He enters shy and sits as close to the door, As if I wouldn't want to bother. Take the cup and keep quiet.
From my window I see the white Langang mountain illuminated by the last rays of the afternoon. Are 17:30 And it has been for a while since the sunlight abandoned us. Tomorrow will return to 6:00 and, her, A new adventure.
