Waking up late, watching sickening amounts of tele-vision and staying in my PJs all day had no part in my summer -- well, not the first half anyhow. Instead, my dad and I hopped on a plane to Nepal, embarking on a "spiritual adventure" to Mt. Kailash.
Located in Western Tibet, Mt. Kailash is a peak subject to pilgrimage by Hindus, Buddhists, Jains and Bonpos (the ancient shamanistic religion of Tibet) as well as all-around adventure seekers. The mountain is an earthly manifestation of the mythical Mt. Meru, which represents the meeting point of heaven, hell and earth in Buddhism. Pilgrims complete a kora by walking around the mountain to pay their respects and receive absolute atonement for their sins. The kora is an act that represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth. There are two varieties of koras: The inner kora is closer to Mt. Kailash and thus, holier. This path is for those who have completed 13 outer koras.
From the pages of my travel diary to those of The Cavalier Daily, I give you entries chock full of life on the trail.
I begin my account two weeks into the entire trip. We arrived in Tibet after a not-so-leisurely nine-day stroll through the Himalayas from Nepal. Following the lush Nepalese forests, which harbored marijuana fields (no joke, it's mapped) and Maoists demanding $100 progressive tax per person, the vast Tibetan plateau that now lay before us was quite a shift. We spent a couple of days circling Lake Manasarovar, another location for pilgrimage, before we finally arrived in Darchen:
Day 1: Darchen
Right now I'm sitting in a tea shop in Darchen passing time before dinner is served. We just met Dorje, our Tibetan guide who carries our kora permit as well as a small picture of the Dalai Lama hidden underneath his cell phone battery. He is quite friendly and has an interesting history. He used to be a monk in Potala Palace until the Chinese government seized Lhasa during the Cultural Revolution, and then he decided to become a guide to Mt. Kailash. Since then, Dorje has completed 72 koras -- just 36 koras shy of the 108 said to guarantee complete nirvana in one lifetime.
It is amazing how after a few weeks of hiking, all my life's desires boil down to mental pleas for tomato soup instead of mushroom, a toilet tent impervious to wind and the headaches to go away.
As of this moment, I am lucky enough to be free of the dull throbbing headaches that have inhabited my brain since we hit 14,000 feet. Now my brain is full of static, buzzing with the exciting mix of altitude sickness medication and the Coke I just drank. Last night I had the most intense pins and needles in my feet -- it annoyed me to no end and I had to keep shuffling my feet around in my sleeping bag.
Tonight we're staying in a guesthouse, required by government policy if we want our kora permit.
Considering how nice the guesthouse is, I was unpleasantly surprised by the toilet facility. Eight holes had been punched out of a cement platform, encased in four walls and sans roof. The pit below is completely exposed to the elements -- namely, wind. So one really has to beware of the updraft or they're likely to receive a self-inflicted shower.
After one encounter with that place, I feel completely disgusting. Go figure, since I have just changed into clean clothes after a bath this morning -- the first in several days and the last for several more. There was a hot springs bathing facility we visited and took a shower for 20 yuan each (a $2 shower). It was a stinky, sulphurous affair but hot water nonetheless. It's been days since I've seen and bathed my entire body in one go -- amazing how we take even that for granted.
Earlier, we explored the town of Darchen in search of phones. On first glance, I think that Darchen must be what the Wild West would have looked like. It's incredibly sunny, windy and dusty. There are loads of unfinished buildings and dirt roads. There's a very nice cement bridge but no roads crossing it and lots of cement walls but no buildings to protect. There are even corrals for yaks in addition to the usual mules and horses. As if to further support my notion, cowboy hats are extremely popular among the males here. I wasn't expecting to find the Wild West in Western Tibet.
Day 2: North Face (sound familiar?)
We have just finished one-third of the kora around Kailash. We are now near Drira Phug gompa (monastery) with a stunning view of Kailash's north face. We arrived here after a 10-mile hike from Tarboche.
After some stomach percolation the night before, I took an Imodium that luckily kicked in right before the day's hike. I still don't feel 100 percent up to par. I have what seems like the "purple burps" associated with Giardiasis, and I would kill for some Saltines. On the hike, Dad and I pondered how far away the nearest box of Saltines could be.
On the trail are multiple Indian tour groups circling what is believed to be Lord Shiva's paradise. Though most of the Indians were older and atop horses, I noticed one young Indian man performing his kora barefoot.
It is believed that the more suffering one endures during the kora, the more purifying and fulfilling the entire experience will be, as it connects one to the mountain physically. That is where total prostration comes in. The act of total prostration involves getting onto your stomach then stretching your arms in front of your head, palms down, with your nose to the ground and sort of sliding yourself forward on the trail. Some Tibetans do this around the mountain, taking one step in-between bows and wearing rudimentary elbow and shin guards. The prostration kora takes three weeks to complete.
We stopped in a teashop for a breather and refreshments. I had my first encounter with yak butter tea. I attempted to take a hearty gulp of the stuff but nearly gagged. Sad to say, that was my first and last encounter with yak butter tea.
Day 3: East Face
We were on the trail for nearly ten hours today -- though that includes tea shop stops and climbing the Dolma Pass. The 18,000-foot pass is the highest and most demanding leg of the kora but also the most rewarding, as the peak is where one's sins are totally erased. This is granted by Dolma, also known as the Green Tara, who is the female Buddha of compassion and protection in Vajrayana Buddhism.
Like its namesake, the pass was surprisingly kind and not nearly as grueling as I expected. My legs were fine on the way up, though there were times when I had to stop to just take a big gulp of air.
On the way up, Gowa, our Nepalese guide, took us to little stops which have obstacles to test different things. One stop was a tombstone-sized rock with three circular impressions on it, which was said to determine how good one has been to ones parents. If you could get your index finger into each of the three impressions with eyes closed, then that meant your parents are very appreciative of how you've treated them. Naturally, I was spot on each time.
We finally reached the top of Dolma Pass after a particularly rough stretch of trail. To describe the peak as rocky would be an understatement. Sharp black rock was jutting out over the entire surface, which made it difficult to find a comfortable resting spot. But the spiritual environment was pretty incredible. There were mountains of lung-tas, or prayer flags, tied to two main flagpoles. Tibetans were flinging "wind-horses" into the air -- colored bits of paper imprinted with Tibet's protector, the horse. Tibetans believe that prayer flags and wind-horses use the wind to spread the teachings of the Buddha and offer blessings to the world, according to "The Rivers of the Mandala." After hanging up a few prayer flags of our own, we started our descent.
We hit a patch of snow that surrounded the Gauri Kund lake on the way down. This lake is where Shiva's wife, Parvati, bathed and where the history of Ganesh's elephant head began. As we took pictures in the snow, triumphant of our successful climb, I saw the barefoot guy trudge on past. That put some of my complaining into perspective.
Unfortunately, there was no slacking on the downhill, as it was almost as tough as the climb up. We passed one Indian woman who was suffering from altitude sickness -- she was inhaling from an oxygen pillow, which their tour's Tibetan staff carried.
Gowa told us at the breakfast table this morning that an Indian woman died after bathing in Lake Manasarovar. She was only 40 years old, but apparently the icy waters and high altitude didn't mix well. We were told her husband wasn't completely distraught, since dying at these holy sites lead one directly to Shiva's paradise. Not exactly comforting. But I got to camp okay, and now I'm just waiting for the call to soup.
Finish the adventure, to be continued, in tomorrow's edition.
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