🇳🇵🥾 The Manaslu Circuit Trek tested our bodies and our resilience in unexpected ways when, 5 days in, we had to make the decision to be helicoptered back to Kathmandu. Some nasty stomach bugs had attacked Antoine and Tim and when Antoine was not recovering even after a day of rest at 3300m, it became obvious he needed proper care and comfort to feel better. Pushing on and gaining altitude was not an option, nor was walking down as we had already walked up nearly 80km and travelled a full bumpy day by road from Kathmandu. And so, me terrified, Tim ecstatic, and Antoine trying to put on a smile despite the circumstances, boarded a helicopter with our guides and retraced our steps, in a spectacular flight over the Himalayas.
This is when we have to turn on « sunflower mode »: turn to the light and focus on the positives despite the disappointment of cutting short our long-awaited trekking adventure. I was preaching this to my brother, standing atop the magnificent Buddhist Monastery of Lho, gazing in awe at Manaslu. Yes we had embarked on a circuit with the goal of completing it and going through the Larkya La pass, and it wasn’t going to happen. But every step accomplished was an achievement in itself, especially for Antoine whose first big trek it was. As my good friend Yasmina and I like to think and say, enjoying the process is as – if not more – important than reaching the goal.
We had started our walk in the small village of Macchakhola, nested in a deep valley and overlooking a wild river. Guided by the formidable Tenjing and his younger brother Nuru as a porter, we set off following the river upstream. We crossed many vertiginous suspension bridges decorated with colourful prayer flags, making sure we gave way to the many mule trains carrying goods up and down the valley. At first, the landscape was quite rocky and dry with limited vegetation, reminding me of the deep valley that goes up from Nice into the French Alps. As we kept going up on the following days, the river got narrower with its glacial turquoise waters rushing down. The vegetation became denser and lush, and I relished in the apparition of pine trees and moss, a profound dark green until the forest put on its automnal burnt orange coat as we neared 3000m.
Everyday, we loved stopping in scenic spots for masala tea and energy packed lunches, and listening to Tenjing patiently answering all our questions and sharing Buddhist insights or stories from his Sherpa childhood. Our solid days always finished off with a delicious Dal Bhat in a cozy teahouse. We crossed numerous picturesque farming villages where locals are culturally much closer to Tibetans than to Nepalis living in the lowlands. Finally on Day 4, while Antoine was starting to feel quite sick but courageously pushing on, we arrived in Lho and were rewarded by breathtaking views of the Manaslu, the eighth highest mountain in the world, its two peaks towering high in the clear blue sky. This was an ideal sun bathed spot to nurse the boys, contemplate the grandeur of the mountains, let go of our goal and reflect on our achievements.
Two days later, down in Kathmandu, with Antoine feeling fit and healthy again, it was time to rebound 🌻. Our guide Tenjing offered to take us on a hike in the Kathmandu valley. In a way, this was much more a « true » Nepali experience as we hiked to Chisapani, a spot popular amongst locals for weekend hikes, with stunning views over the Langtang range. That night, after sharing more beers and stories with Tenjing, we ventured to the nearby hotel, attracted by the sound of Nepali music and laughter. We were warmly welcomed by a group of Nepalis and ended up dancing around the fire to cheerful Nepali love songs. We loved it and Tim got himself some more fans with his unique dance moves. The following night, Tenjing took us out with his friends and again we mingled with the locals, casually chatting with sherpas younger than us who have already summited Everest 3 times, among other mountains.
We decided to go volunteering at a school near Kathmandu for a few days. We arrived in Khanikhola, a small village traversed by the main road between Kathmandu and Pokhara, where samosa stalls dot the roadsides and cultivated terraces full of cabbages cover the slopes. The school provides a place to learn for underprivileged kids, but it is in a dire state, with a bank loan as the only source of funding. The stationary and infrastructure is in an advanced state of decay. There is only one teacher, who goes around the classrooms giving exercises to the 40 kids, ranging between 8 and 16 years old. They are very much used to « learning » on their own in their classrooms, or to be instructed by inexperienced volunteers like us, most of whom stay only for a few days. We were quickly and with no guidance assigned a class each and instructed to teach English, maths or science. It was a bit vertiginous to be put in this position with no preparation. We quickly started to feel quite disillusioned with the way things were going in this school, feeling like the kids could get so much more if volunteers were provided even a little bit of guidance or told in advance what they should teach. But we made the best of it. I particularly enjoyed getting to know and understand each child and trying to adapt the teaching to their needs. We were all impressed with how well they could speak English for their age, and that they had actually learnt some things despite their learning environment. It really is a testament to their motivation and potential. « It’s better than nothing » we were telling ourselves.
We were staying in the house of the school founder, and that was another quite challenging experience. The house was dirty, with an active swallows nest in the kitchen, mice that Antoine had to battle during the night, and plenty of spiders. We don’t need much comfort and are very happy with rather simple living arrangements, but this – and perhaps the fact that our host would close himself up in his office all evening smoking weed while we had to entertain his two young and full on kids – made us feel uneasy about the place. We were wondering what was wrong with us as so many previous volunteers had only stellar things to say about the experience. And also wondering if such living conditions are an inevitable result of poverty, two toddlers and full time work? I tend to think you can be poor, live very simply but have things clean, but perhaps this is a privileged bias? We would be interested to have the opinions of those reading this message. This made us even more curious to see how other people live throughout Nepal and Asia.
So we decided to leave after three days, with a twinge of the heart as already I started feeling attached to, and more comfortable with, the kids at school. Overall, this was a humbling experience, one that made us even more aware of our privileged upbringings.
Back in Kathmandu, we spent the last few days with Antoine immersing in Nepal history and culture. We took a wonderful cooking class, explored old historical towns all listed as World Heritage, and tasted local delicacies. We stayed near the Boudhanath Stupa, one of the most important Buddhist monuments in the world. This area very much reminded us of Tibet, as many Tibetans found refuge here after the occupation of Tibet. And with the benevolent eyes of the Bouddha watching over us, we joined them many times to do the Kora and circumambulate around the Stupa.
We said goodbye to Antoine with a heavy heart but grateful for the many memories and learnings forged together in sunflower mode. Tim and I are now in the Khumbu region for more trekking. We shall finish 2024 with magnificent vistas of the Everest and surrounding peaks, an ideal place to reflect on the year. May the spirit of the sunflower be with you all 🌻❤️
Leave a Reply