Nov
16th,
2009 - Wow. I hardly know where to begin. The past two weeks
have been supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!!
Yeah, that about sums it up. Mustang, the former Kingdom of Lo, was
worth every penny I spent even if I overpaid (which I'm pretty sure I
did). As
usual I began in a state of confusion as to exactly what the hell was
happening. I thought I would take the bus to Pokhara
and then hop a flight the same day. I’m ignorant. The bus ride was
six hours by itself which meant I would be spending a night in
Pokhara and then catching an early flight the next morning.
Sometimes, I stupid.
On
the bus to Pokhara was the German couple (herein referred to as
Hansel and Gretel or Hans and Grets for short) that was apparently
not so thrilled to find out that I was supposed to be accompanying
them on their trek. I was told they scoffed at the idea and so,
consequently, was provided my very own guide. However, we would all
be on the same bus to Pokhara, the same plane to Jomsom,
and sleep in all the same tea houses along the way. Separate but
equal. Who likes awkward? Thankfully, it was not so bad and in the
end they even warmed up to me. Imagine that.
I
wanted a book for the trip because I sensed there would be a
significant amount of down time. I settled on the “Kama
Sutra” translated by Sir Richard Burton. If you have never
read this book you really must do so. Interesting? Yes. Perverted?
Perhaps. Entertaining? Definitely.
It is
not just about doing naughty things in the bedroom involving
contortionism and acrobatics. No, it also prescribes the proper
interactions between men and woman and many of the do’s and don’ts
involving members of the opposite sex. It is hysterical.
For
example, in the chapter “On the Arts and Sciences to Be
Studied” there is a list, applicable to women, of arts to be
studied in addition to the Kama Sutra. There are 64 but here are
a few of my favorites:
-Fixing
stained glass in a floor
-The
art of making beds, and spreading out carpets and cushions for
reclining
-Playing
on musical glasses filled with water
-Magic
or sorcery
-Solution
of riddles, enigmas, covert speeches, verbal puzzles, and enigmatical
questions
-Study
of sentences difficult to pronounce
-Practice
with sword, single stick, quarterstaff, and bow and arrow
-Arts
of cockfighting, quail fighting, and ram fighting
-Art
of teaching parrots and starlings to speak
-Art
of framing mystical diagrams, of addressing spells and charms, and
binding amulets
-Various
ways of gambling
I
cannot make this shit up.
The
morning of my departure from Pokhara to Jomsom I happened to notice
that my sleeping bag was missing. It never made it out of the storage
compartment of the bus. I had it attached via a strap to the outside
of my bag. It either came loose or was purloined. Had I noticed the
night before I could have made inquires with the bus company or, if I
was unable to locate the bag, purchase a new one at the many shops in
Pokhara. As it stood it was 6 am and my flight was due to leave
around 6:30. 'Oops' and 'screwed' are suitable words for a scenario
such as that. 'Shit out of luck' would be an apt phrase. And just to
punctuate the kick to the groin I just had my bag repaired and filled
with additional down. Fiddlesticks. Oh yeah, and I was constipated.
Not such an auspicious beginning.
What
could I do? My guide assured me that the tea houses along the way
through Mustang would have sufficient blankets to keep warm. In
addition he would make an attempt to procure a sleeping bag in
Jomsom. I crossed my fingers, toes, eyes, balls, and ass cheeks. It
felt like the thing to do.
The
short flight from Pokhara was spectacular. The sky was clear and the
mountains appeared almost close enough to touch. Good weather is
always a bonus as the situation on toy planes can get a bit hairy. I
spoke with a Russian man who told me his flight spiraled through the
valley to Jomsom in poor visibility on the approach. The pilots found
it amusing. He did not. There have been a number of mishaps
especially with flights to Lukla in the east, the starting point for
the Everest Base Camp Trek. In 2008
a Yeti Airlines
plane hit rocks below the airstrip on the approach to Lukla killing
18 passengers and crew. My flight was smooth and silky, like a baby's
ass. Richie happy.
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| View from Pokhara |
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| Pokhara Airport |
So we
landed in Jomsom in the early morning to a significantly lower
temperature prompting me to don a jacket and hat. Our first stop was
a small tea house for breakfast. Whilst I dined my trusty guide (Ram)
made an attempt to find a sleeping bag. He did manage to locate one
but I declined to purchase it for four reasons: First of all it was
as big as a house and probably weighed as much as my guide. Second,
the shop owner wanted 350 rps a day which is roughly $5 a day. Spread
that over 10 or 11 days and it becomes a bit uneconomical. Third, I
was again reassured that there would be sufficient blankage
available. Fourth I had serious doubts about the bags state of
sanitation and did not want to spend my trip smothered in a sleeping
bag that smelled like smashed assholes. And we were off.
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| Jomsom Airport |
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| Jomsom |
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| Freeze your ass off cricket, anyone? |
The
first day entailed a short trek from Jomsom to Kagbeni,
the last village before an additional permit is required to head
north into Upper Mustang. Just outside of Jomsom, as we entered the
Kali
Gandaki River
Valley I was presented with a strange and, at first , disquieting
site: men with guns, various 4WD vehicles, and a helicopter. Not all
of the men with weapons were wearing uniforms which struck me as
queer (as in odd or strange). Anyone who knows anything about Nepal’s
recent history is aware that the civil war and Maoist insurgency is
fresh in the minds of everyone. All one need do is read the newspaper
or turn on the news. So when I first came upon this scene my first
thought was, ‘Looks like we may have to pay a ‘tax’ to continue
on’ (During the height of the conflict the rebels were infamous for
extorting a small fee from trekkers and handing out receipts in case
they were stopped again).
My
initial fears were baseless. As it turned out the folks in the
riverbed were filming a Nepali movie titled “Batch 16” if I
understood one of the actors in the Land Rover correctly. As we
walked along the chopper was making passes through the canyon and
stirring up an obnoxious amount of dust. Who knows, I may be a tiny
spec in one of the scenes in a Nepali action movie. No autographs
please.
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| If you pay close attention to the clip above you will see this helicopter |
Although
Mustang did become a part of Nepal in the 18th century, due to a
desire of the Jumla rulers to exercise dominion over the lucrative
trade route into Tibet, it did manage to retain its status as an
autonomous principality until 1951. After that Nepal's King Tribhuvan
re-established rule over the area and exerted a higher degree of
control.
The
raja (i.e. king) was given the status of honorary colonel by the
Nepalese government. As one might expect Mustang is dominated
by Tibetan Buddhism. The influx of wealth from lucrative trade
led to the construction of some relatively elaborate gompas
(Buddhist monasteries) in the region. Buddhism in general, and
Tibetan Buddhism in particular, has many sects, off-shoots,
interpretations, and the like. What I am trying to say is: shit can
get extremely confusing. Most of the Mustang area practices a style
of Tibetan Buddhism that forms part of the Sakya lineage
but there are also Gelug and Nyingma-based gompas as
well. Want to know the differences? Read a friggin book.
My
first gompa visit was in Kagbeni, to the Red Gompa. It is painted
red, as is every other gompa I saw during the trip. I was presented
with a plethora of Buddhist iconography to include statutes, prayer
drums, masks, paintings, and a host of other symbols that defy my
understanding. I mentioned above my guide’s limited English ability
so all I got here was, ‘carved stone is very old’.
This
makes sense as most of the monasteries in the region go back
centuries.
Tourists
are granted access to the roof of El Gompa Rojo where some mighty
breathtaking views of nearby Himalayan mountains can be enjoyed. The
interior and roof of most gompas can lead to an inescapable feeling
of calm and serenity that borders on the mystical. Although my
ignorance is boundless it is impossible not to be affected by the
spiritual nature of places like this. To think that monks have been
practicing Buddhism within those walls for hundreds of years leaves
one with a feeling of awe that is difficult to articulate.
I
lingered for an extended time both within the monastery walls and
upon the roof attempting to soak it all in. Being alone
(notwithstanding my guide who remained mute most of the time) helps
foster self-reflection and circumspection. The mystical nature of
these and other Buddhist structures is intensified in no small part
by the topography of the region. It is like nowhere else in Nepal.
The landscape is barren, arid, treeless for the most part, and falls
victim to some pretty severe winds in the afternoon and evening. In a
word: forlorn, and the idea of a landscape abandoned by whatever
force that saw fit to create it is only underscored as one travels
farther north. But make no mistake, the lonely nature of the
landscape is surpassed only by its magnificence.
So my
first night found me with enough blankets to ward of the Mustang
chill and remarkably good food to warm my belly. Homemade pasta,
apple juice (best I’ve ever tasted) and apple crumble were all on
tap. The area is known for its superb apples, hence the delicious
variations that involve this tasty fruit (the fiber content also
assisted a bit with my intestinal log jam).
The
woman running the Shangra-La guesthouse possesses a rather cheery
personage and the place had a most homey feel to it. I was fortunate
enough to be allowed to play with a yak head. And the town boasts a
‘Yac’Donalds and 7 Eleven of dubious franchise origin. What more
do you need? Not a fuckin' thing.
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| Maoist supporters |
very entertaining read, loved it. going myself next month.
ReplyDeleteHave fun and thanks for the kind words.
Delete-Rich