Annapurna Circuit: Thanksgiving at 4020 Metres

Let me start off by saying that I don't care for Thanksgiving very much. I feel like the United States just took Christmas, removed the gift giving, added family infighting, and moved the whole thing up a month to give themselves a bonus holiday. I've also been soured to the event by having to dodge invitations to Thanksgiving dinner by people I barely know ever since I moved to the US 10 years ago (there is something in the American psyche that will not accept someone being alone on Thanksgiving, regardless of how that someone might feel about it). I won't even go into how I feel about the hypocrisy of including native Americans in the mix. That said, Colleen does care for Thanksgiving, and although she didn't make a fuss, I could tell that she was feeling down about being so far away from her family as the day approached. Ergo, I started caring. The problem was that Thanksgiving would fall right in the middle of our Annapurna hike, about as far away from family and Thanksgiving tradition as you can get.

The trail at lower elevation

The Annapurna Circuit trek is considered one of the world’s classic walks. The trail follows a valley up to the high pass at Thorung La then down into another valley on the other side. It  was opened to foreigners in 1977, and has gained steadily in popularity since (except during the Maoist revolution during the latter part of this decade when there was a sharp decline). As a matter of fact, its popularity is one of its few drawbacks in that the trail can often be quite crowded during high season. (this turned out not to be a problem for us though, as, due to poor planning on our part, we went at the end of the season so there were few hikers. As a matter of fact, the high pass was closed for the season a few days after we crossed it). The walk is popular for a reason. Starting in a lush, almost jungle like environment, the terrain changes daily as you gain elevation through pine forests to scrub brush, and finally barren rock above tree line, all the while snow capped mountains loom above on either side. During a typical days walk, you would pass through several small villages, scurry to get out of the way of a mule train, cross a raging turquoise river on a swaying metal suspension bridge, and pass innumerable Buddhist stupas (stone spires - a representation of Buddha), gompas (Buddhist monastery) and prayer wheels, all festooned with colourful prayer flags. There were even monkeys at the lower elevations. 

The trail at higher elevation

Sounds idyllic right? I suppose in some ways it was, but it was also very challenging. The full circuit takes nearly three weeks to complete. Due to Colleen’s commitments in Ilam (more on that in a later post), we had to cut our trek to just under two weeks by taking a shared jeep to cut a day off the front end and flying out of Jomsom to cut a week off the back end. This left us with the core of the trail: 120 horizontal kilometres, 4.3 vertical km up, 2.7 vertical km down, with a maximum elevation of 5416 metres, all in conditions that ranged from sunny and hot to freezing cold and snowing. If that wasn't challenging enough, I insisted that we did not need porters (we were the only ones without them), so Colleen carried 8 kilograms on her back and I carried 18. Walking uphill, at times very steeply uphill, for a week in increasingly colder and thinner air, after having done absolutely no exercise for months almost did us in.

Simple accommodations

But I digress, back to Thanksgiving. One of the great things about the trek is that the you could find simple accommodation and hot food in the villages along the trail. The villages with accommodations for hikers were more or less a days walk apart so that you would tend to see the same people on the trail each day and at the lodge each night. This meant that we got to know and befriend a lot of our fellow hikers. It also meant that we could easily recruit for an impromptu Himalayan thanksgiving dinner / party. We were with a great group of people, and even though there were no Americans, everyone seemed pretty keen. There was even a bit of a buzz about it on the trail. There would be no turkey of course, even chickens were pretty rare at that altitude, but we did manage to get our hands on an apple pie (which our confused guide agreed to carry up the trail for us), and the rest would just have to sort itself out

River and Mountain

On the big day, we ended our hike in Yak Kharka, The name fit as was evidenced by the multitude of yaks roaming around the village and surrounding fields, as well as for a few other reasons that will become apparent as the story progresses. The village was quite nice, and our lodge had stunning views of the mountains outside. As a matter of fact, it was like the place was made for a dinner party. The dinning hall was just big enough to fit us cozily (close together, but comfortable) and the small tables and benches were all arranged around a central fire (fueled by yak dung of course - firewood is scarce at high elevations). All of which really lent itself to a festive and intimate atmosphere. Our thanksgiving feast consisted of garlic soup, yak burgers and apple pie followed by local apple brandy / firewater.Before pie was served, everyone got up in turn and gave their (hilarious) reasons for being thankful (see the video). We were not in the US (Colleen was the only American), the food was  far from traditional, there was no football, no family fights, and all we had was our sweaters and a poop fire to keep us warm. But I have to say, our impromptu Himalaya Thanksgiving was my best Thanksgiving yet, mainly for the smile on Colleens face.

The gang at the top of the pass

The next few days were pretty hard. The climbing got more difficult, and the air thinner, but we did make it over the pass, and we were lucky enough to time it so that all of the people met at the top more or less at the same time for pictures, high fives and hugs. Then we made our way down to the next village for local wine (raxi), and apple brandy. I have to say that we could not have met a nicer group of people to share this experience with. Everyone was so generous, kindhearted and fun to be around, that both Colleen and I were genuinely sad when the group started to break up and go its separate ways. We can only hope that we will run into them again.

Thanksgiving in the Himalayas was great, but more than that, our experience on the Annapurna Circuit, for me anyway, epitomizes the joys of travelling. Experiencing incredible wonders like the Himalayas would seem to be enough on its own, but frequently when travelling, you get lucky and meet amazing people with whom to share this kind of thing, and the two combined are immeasurably better that either on its own.

Colleen left for Ilam yesterday, and I am back in Kathmandu left to my own devices for a couple of weeks. Not sure what I'll get up to...


Michael
Thamel, Kathmandu

PS I apologize if this was a bit of a long post, but it was an incredible experience, very difficult to condense.

Varanasi (and India): As Different as it Gets

Our guidebook describes Varanasi thus:

“Perhaps one of India’s holiest cities, Varanasi defies easy description. A highly congested maze of narrow alleys winding behind its waterfront ghats, at once highly sacred yet physically often far from clean. As an image, an idea and a symbol of Hinduism’s central realities, the city draws pilgrims from around the world to worship, meditate, and above all bathe. It is a place to be born, and a place to die. In the cold mists of a winter’s dawn, you can see life and death laid bare. For an outside observer, it can be an uncomfortable, albeit unmissable experience, juxtaposing the inner philosophical mysteries of Hinduism with the practical complications of living literally and metaphysically on the edge.“  (Footprint, India Handbook, 17th edition).

The language is a little esoteric, but the description is pretty close to the mark. What the author does not convey though, is just how strange and overwhelming Varanasi can be, nor does it indicate the beauty or depth of the place. Unfortunately though, if I’m honest, my Varanasi experience was more about the strange and overwhelming than the beautiful or deep.

Varanasi Ghat

Varanasi (also called Banares or sometimes Kashi), in addition to being a holy place for centuries (since 700 B.C.) is also a centre of Hindu learning and culture. It ins one of the oldest if not the oldest continuously inhabited place on earth. The old town hugs the banks of the Ganges and is a warren of narrow cobblestone streets that give way to waterfront ghats (flat landings and steps leading to the river) where pilgrims bathe in the sacred, albeit polluted, river. Here too are the burning ghats where corpses are burned in open air fires so that the ashes may be scattered in the sacred river (there is also a more efficient although somewhat ghoulish crematorium building near one of the burning ghats). It is also a major draw for non-Indian (northern) tourists, and there is a whole range of accommodations and creature comforts set up just for them.

Puja at dawn

A typical day in Varanasi might consist of a boat ride on the Ganges where you may or may not bump into a floating corpse (we did by the way), dodging cows and monkeys in some medieval back alley, getting stuck in a traffic jam, declining dozens of solicitations from rickshaws, taxis, beggars and touts, wilting in the mid-day heat, walking past corpses being cremated at one of the burning ghats, while dozes bathe in the river downstream, observing any number of religious ceremonies or festivals (we witnessed 3), being offered a blessing, for a fee, by a ragged looking sadhu (Hindu holy man who has renounced worldly goods), having to cover your face to try to avoid the stench of open sewers, all the while dodging hordes of European and American tourists. After one such day, Colleen observed that, for someone with our background (Northern, Christian, etc.), Varanasi was as different as a place could get.

Fire Puja at Dashashwamedh Ghat

As usual, she hit the nail on the head. Varanasi is completely different from anything in my experience. So different in fact that it was difficult for me to see beyond the difference and strangeness in order to grasp any meaning or beauty, which was always there of course, just below the surface. I did manage to catch some hints, but never got a good feel for it. The woman performing puja (worship) at the river’s edge at dawn, teenagers playing cricket at one of the ghats because that was the only open area they could find, little shops tucked into back alleys where daily life took place, and religious buildings, ceremonies or people at every corner were all pleasant interludes in an otherwise bewildering, hectic and sometimes unpleasant day. They were not, as I would have hoped, pieces of a fascinating puzzle that I could try to piece together.

Unfortunately, in some ways, the same could be said of my India experience in general. Blame it on being rushed (we probably packed too much in to our three week visit), travel fatigue (we’ve been on the road for 3 months now) or culture shock, I had a hard time seeing beyond the strange and aggravating in India to see the good. I’m not implying that I didn’t like India, or that I learned nothing, because more than any place I’ve been, India intrigued and challenged me, and even in the short time I was there, I learned so much. It’s just that I feel like there was so much that I missed. I suppose that the best thing to come out of our trip to India is a strong desire to come back for more. 

We are in Nepal now, but more on that in the next post...


Michael
Thamel, Kathmandu