THE MOUNTAIN SHOWS ITS TRUE SELF
My Chinese friend and I woke up early in the morning; we paid our hosts the best way we could, thanked them, and continued on our way. We had to reach a small village, Duareli, where we could find food and accommodation for travelers like us. We were going through a very beautiful valley; the road ahead was flat, and the sounds from the river going along the road echoed in the purified air.
After noon though the path changed and became extremely steep. All of a sudden my companion and I stopped talking because we were too busy catching our breath. It seemed like a never-ending journey and the 12 kg bag on my shoulders seemed heavier and heavier. We took a short break and then we continued, but only fifteen minutes later I had to take another break. On the third time, I had no control over my legs. The reason behind it was most likely that during the past winter instead of training my body for what was to come, I spent my time reading books on the couch, uninterrupted by anything but the breaks for the delicious food prepared by my mother. Right now the situation was critical, my legs were giving up on me.
My companion offered to switch bags. He only had a few days for this hike, because he wanted to return to Kathmandu. That’s the reason his bag was a lot lighter than mine. We continued on our way up at a slower pace and my brain got flooded by negative thoughts which I could barely keep off. Wei said this was normal considering my untrained body and that I was going to start to adapt in a couple of days, as long as I didn’t give up.
After some great effort, we finally arrived at Duareli around 2:30 in the afternoon. There were three guesthouses in total so we quickly checked into the closest one. It was a clear day and the sun was shining brightly. While we were enjoying lunch I decided to ask him about his experiences while traveling and whether he had had any unpleasant encounters and how he dealt with them. He explained that he’d had some distressing moments but also added that they passed just like anything else in life. His secret, he said, was to not pay too much attention to them and to stay focused on the positive adventures awaiting ahead.
Wei was going to continue his hike after the break but as for me, he advised that I stay and recover my strength till the next morning when I was going to be able to continue my journey. I didn’t like that we were parting our ways, but that was the right decision to make. I didn’t want to slow him down. Besides, this journey was something very personal and individual; it was a battle only me and no one else had to take. We hugged and said goodbye. I was overflown with great gratitude that Life had given me the opportunity to meet him. As I later realized he was going to become an inspiration for me, an inspiration that was going to help me keep pushing when things got tough.
I took a cold shower, the only one available, and the rest of the day I spent in bed. It wasn’t till supper when I finally made my way to the dining area. The guesthouse was run by a family with an 18-year-old daughter – a pleasant girl with a beautiful smile. As we were all eating dinner, the lights suddenly went out. That was a good reason to start talking to each other in the darkness. The conversations carried on and we were all talking and laughing so we didn’t mind not having light. The power never came back so at 8:30 I went to bed ready to be taken to the “higher dimension”.
The next morning I was feeling a lot better; besides, the girl from the guesthouse said that the road for the next few hours was only downhill which made me decide to hit the road. Not that walking downhill was an easier task, but at least the backpack I was carrying didn’t seem as heavy. After a few astonishing views of hills and valleys, all impressively decorated in spring blossoms, I arrived in Kindza. I was supposed to cross a bridge and continue uphill to Sete, but I was having a hard time deciding which of the routes to take. I looked around for someone to ask, but unfortunately, there was no one so I decided to follow my instincts.
I knew I had gotten lost, but decided to continue anyway. I finally arrived at a ramshackle cottage in front of which I saw an old lady washing her long hair. I think I startled her a bit; she didn’t speak any English and quickly pointed me to go back where I came from. Two minutes later it started raining heavily. I took shelter in one of the field terraces on the side of the ridge. I am not sure what was grown there but it had huge leaves which somewhat protected me from the rain. After all, I found the right way and the path to my never-ending hike up. I met three people in total in the next thirty minutes and all three of them gave me a different estimated time of arrival in Sete. It wasn’t a difference of simply a few minutes, but hours.
The day quickly came to an end and there were only about thirty minutes till sunset, however, I could see no sign of villages anywhere around me. My thoughts were as dark as the sky above me when finally I spotted the village in front of me. I entered the first house. There I found a few Swiss tourists with their guide, and two Sherpa drinking tea, as well as a Japanese traveler. The Swiss had taken one of the two tables so I decided to join the Japanese man at the other one.
We spent the evening talking, and that night was the first of many nights to follow that the only cover above me was going to be my very light sleeping bag. I was so cold that it was hard for me to fall asleep. Later though my body adapted. Have you noticed that the body can adapt to almost anything…