Life feels purposeful in the Himalayan mountains. We wake up in the tea house we stayed in the night before. The rooms consist of two beds, thin mattresses, insulated blankets and a small window that fogs up in the morning. We walk to the dining room and sit on the carpeted benches to eat a basic breakfast, usually eggs and porridge, sometimes a pancake or egg sandwich. We drink semi-sweet masala tea with milk and wait for it to warm up outside. We talk about what the day is going to look like. We ask our guide and if he can’t tell us, we check our map. Instead of measuring distances in miles or kilometers, in Nepal they measure by hours. Phakding to Namche Bazaar is a six-hour walk.
The mornings are cold, and the sun lights up the snow covered mountains so brightly. It’s hard to look at them. The hiking is always tough. Just when we get used to the altitude, it’s time to move higher. We pass through small villages and farms, which get more and more sparse the further you venture into the mountains, and we always spin the ritualistic line of prayer wheels as we go by.
In the middle of the day, we stop at a tea house for lunch, usually consisting of spaghetti or potatoes, and some soup. The meals in Nepal are mostly vegetarian, as meat cannot be transported properly. There are no roads, so every bit of meat that you eat has to be carried on a porter’s back. We always drink the lemon ginger tea. It’s strong, sweet and tastes better the colder we are or the harder we have worked to get there. There are always bits of ginger at the bottom of the glass, and the closer we get to the end of the thermos, the stronger the tea becomes. While we rest, someone will usually start up a card game. These breaks are some of the most fun parts of the day. Soon though, we’re off again.
Nepal is a very poor country, but the culture in the mountains is known as one of the richest. People often look for ways to help each other, and greet each other as members of their family. Locals who have never talked to each other before will all laugh together. The tea houses are family-run. They lodge and feed trekkers, guides and porters. Even in the smallest villages, there’s a sense of routine and purpose. Shrines and prayer flags line the paths. Monks walk on the trails, locals and trekkers spin the prayer wheels or stop to put a small stone on a sacred pile. Their way of life blends survival with religion and spirituality. Nobody in the mountains lives with excess, but we can always count on a smile. Their culture is caring, and conversations with the people in the mountains paints a picture of a resilient and happy culture. There is a reason that Nepal is ranked as the happiest country in South Asia.
The culture plays a huge role in the purposefulness felt in the mountain communities. Their values are no from those in the US. It feels less individualistic. People seldom ignore each other. Nobody is rushing anywhere. Everyone has a clear focus, whether that is lodging people or moving forward tomorrow. Everyone seems to do their part to better the entire society. It strips down life to what matters most. It makes us aware of how much we don’t need to be happy.
In the afternoon, the sun gets stronger and the trail gets busier, with porters and other trekkers. We keep walking, sometimes in silence. Later in the afternoon, the bright sun gives way to a thick fog. It gets cold quickly. This is the time to switch layers. Throw on a slightly damp puffy coat or a sweater. This can also be the most challenging point of the day. Often, we are so tired from the morning that it is hard to keep walking in the afternoon. Altitude makes walking more difficult, but even worse, it makes recovery difficult. Sickness lingers, and stuck with some of us for the entire trek.
When we reach the next tea house, we take off our boots and rest awhile longer on the carpeted bench, resulting in many more card games. Closer to the evening, someone will fire up the stove situated centrally in the tea house. It gets warm quickly, and we shed our layers from mid-afternoon. Then we sit down for dinner. Often dahl bhat and potato momos, but the dinners can be different every time. Tea comes, either masala or lemon ginger. After dinner, the whole room fills with energy again. The porters first bring out a drum and we begin the dance circle, and everyone starts clapping to the beat. After a while, the drumming and singing gives way to a Bluetooth speaker. We all dance together, trekkers and porters, tired bodies moving anyway. It does not matter how much we hiked that day, we are in that dance circle. But soon, we get too tired and go to bed, snuggling back into our cold beds.
My experience in Nepal made me realize how much I value that kind of purposefulness. Here, life often moves fast. It is incredibly easy to get caught up in things that don’t matter. There can be persistent and unforgiving moments. The things that matter in the US are often not related to survival. But in the mountains, life is stripped down to the most needed parts. We focus on walking, eating and resting. But instead of feeling empty, it feels fuller than normal life back home. The tea, the cards, the conversations we have with strangers and friends. Nothing is missing. I will always treasure that feeling of having enough.
