And time seems to go by so fast
In the twinkling of an eye
Let’s enjoy it while we can (let’s enjoy it while we can)
To the bright side of the road
(Van Morrison)
I’m a great admirer of professionals who make difficult work look easy – none more so than the guides, cooks and porters who support foreign travellers in the mountains and foothills of Nepal. Mountaineers know this of course: few would reach a Himalayan summit without an extensive local support team behind them. But less recognized – outside Nepal at least – are those who support ordinary trekkers from around the world whose “summit” is not a mountaintop but rather a peak experience; walking spectacular countryside in the company of its tough, resilient, gracious and hospitable people.
The rhododendron is the national flower of Nepal, where the “Lali Gurans” is a symbol of purity and beauty. In the remote Milke Danda region of eastern Nepal, thirty different species bloom between March and May at altitudes ranging from about 1,500 to 4,000 metres (5,000 to 13,000 feet). What better excuse for a pair of friends to make a springtime trek in magnificent Himalayan foothills, within sight of some of the world’s highest mountains?
If you’ve read earlier stories here about adventure travel in Nepal or Tibet you’ll know about Canadian Himalayan Expeditions, so once again the inestimable Michael Dudeck was the “go to” guy for arranging a customized mini-expedition for two. In the course of three weeks we would enjoy a few days exploring Kathmandu before meeting up with our guide, flying the 400 kilometres (250 miles) east to Biritnagar, then driving another 125 kilometres northward to overnight in Basantapur at 2,200 metres (7,200) feet above sea level. The next day we would begin trekking with the support of two porters who would carry most of our gear, along with their own.
Our trek would take us along a succession of ridges, ultimately climbing well above 12,000 feet, paralleling the massif of the world’s third-highest mountain (Kanchenjunga), walking toward the fifth (Makalu) and glimpsing the highest of all (Everest) in the distance. For the first two nights we were able to stay in simple lodges, but once we reached the end of primitive roads we shifted to expedition camping. That meant being joined by a cook who would also serve as naike (porter lead), a “kitchen boy” and six more porters, bringing the Nepali team up to eleven in all. We two Canadians would be spoiled by a standard of service customarily offered to major mountaineering expeditions, with individual tents, a cooking and dining tent complete with folding table and chairs, and even a latrine tent for privacy.
When we first explored prospects for the trip our initial reaction to being supported by almost a dozen people was discomfort to say the least. We didn’t want to feel like we were reflecting the worst of “first world” or archaic colonial expectations. But those concerns were quickly put to rest.
For one thing, it was necessary – the region is one of the least-visited in Nepal and we would be walking beyond the reach of roads. That meant we would have to carry everything – equipment, food and, at some times, even water. The only ways to get in or out were walk or call in a (very expensive) helicopter. Second, although the standard of service did indeed have roots in colonial culture, there would be nothing exploitative about it. It would be a professional employment relationship based on mutual respect.
Nepal is among the 50 poorest countries in the world (at the moment it’s #41) and its unemployment rate is twice Canada’s. Much of the country is inaccessible by road, so much of what’s needed to live in “hills” that are higher than many peaks in the Canadian Rockies must still be carried by pack animals or on the backs of poorly-paid porters.
It’s hard to imagine now, but 70 years ago Nepal was a reclusive kingdom closed to foreigners. But not long after it opened, mostly to climbers and hippies, a respected mountaineer and former British army officer who had served with Gurkha troops…
... “decided to form a company which would undertake the inclusive arrangement for outfitting clients to travel and camp comfortably in the mountains of Nepal. This mode of travel and this type of business I called ‘trekking’. Trek is of course an old Boer word, and although it was novel to some in 1964, it was quite commonly used in the Himalayan literature to describe the walk from airfield or road head to a mountain base camp.”
Today, Lt-Col “Jimmy” Roberts is remembered as the “father of trekking” in Nepal, who set the industry’s high standards of service. A contemporary, Mike Cheney, set the standards for fair employment of Nepali trekking teams. Thanks very much to them, reputable trekking companies today offer young Nepalis decent pay for honest work, plus a chance for self-improvement. Grateful trekkers, in turn, enjoy the experiences of a lifetime, happily supplementing the expedition fee with generous and well-deserved tips. There should be nothing condescending about it. Just the opposite. Those of us blessed to live in more prosperous societies get to experience adventure, a very different culture, and a respectful way to share the wealth with hospitable professionals who very much earn it.
Someone has said that you first travel to Nepal for the scenery but you come back for the people. Two pairs of Canadian thumbs up to that!
Other folk’s photos:
Selfie: Tek Bhandari, guide extraordinaire
Group photo: Elizabeth Lemay, trekking companion extraordinaire