Life

I met up with Dawa a couple of times during the week for hot lemon and ginger at one of Bouddha’s rooftop cafes and, obviously, was overflowing with excitement at the instigation of my extra lessons. It was during these rendezvous that I began to notice how little she really had to say for herself. In my eyes a good heart and generous nature will get most people a long way and thus far it had carried Dawa far in my affections. However, having mutual interests and a little intellectual stimulation is necessary for me to truly form attachment with any friend…and I was beginning to discover that Dawa wasn’t really equipped to offer me either.
I put most of this down to her mostly indolent lifestyle – one afforded her by the privilege of having a brother and sister working in Canada who were able to provide for her and her other sister as they remained in Kathmandu. On account of this, she had no need to seek gainful employment and therefore saw it as her right to sit around all day doing absolutely nothing. Not only did this mean she had nothing to talk about on a day-to-day basis but it meant her brain was almost atrophying from a lack of stimulation. As a result of this, she wasn’t overly keen on talking about anything for long and I’d often find myself biting my tongue about the day’s success story or a taxing encounter with Uttam as her butterfly attention alighted on some trifle in the vicinity. At this point, I was sufficiently taken with her happy disposition and kind-heartedness for my doubts to be overcome but I think I was secretly relieved to be without her company over the majority of the weekend, as Edd and I had made plans to climb the Valley’s highest peak, Pulchowki (2700m) in preparation for our impending treks.
Before this though I must mention my first momentous visit to Ram’s house for dinner. Edd and I had been due to visit a few weeks previously but that happened to be the day on which I was struck by my strange dizzy illness and Edd had gone alone. The reports he’d brought back had been very encouraging and it was with some anticipation that I sat down with him and Ram at Sarita’s table. I certainly wasn’t disappointed and had to admit that her Dal Bhat was, without question, the finest I’d eaten. (Apologies to Komala and the Didis at this point as I’m sure with hand-picked ingredients and not having to cook for hundreds, their food would measure up to Sarita’s.) I’d taken along a bottle of wine as a gift and was pleased to see that Ram enjoyed a good tipple as well as the next man – strictly with his dinner, of course. Neither Edd nor I stayed too late, both having school in the morning but we were certainly eager to repeat the experience and I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait too long to do so.
He and I took it slightly easier than normal at the usual Friday night session in Tom & Jerry’s and I was tucked up in bed well before midnight. I met him at the Great Wall at 7am and we went up to the roof to check the weather out before setting off. Not pleased with what we saw, we adjourned to Helena’s for a prolonged breakfast in the hope that an ominous batch of storm clouds would dissipate so we could head south and start our ascent. By the time we’d eaten and taken a thorough look at the still-flimsily-thin local papers (starved of any real news and still being censored due to the King’s ongoing edict) we found to our relief that the clouds had moved on and that the weather was looking reasonable for a successful summit attempt.
An hour-and-a-half later, we scrambled out of a microbus at Godavari and set off up the track in bright sunshine with a jaunty step. After this, I’m afraid, things started to go a little wrong. We’d barely climbed even a tenth of the way up an admittedly steep path and I was beginning to feel seriously under the weather. At first, I was keen to put it down to my total lack of exercise for several months, exacerbated by the appalling pollution in Kathmandu. However, it didn’t take me long to discover that this was assuredly not the main cause of my dizziness and excessive weakness. After scrambling up a particularly steep and slippery section of the path, I suddenly found myself doubled over with the most excruciating stomach cramps. Barely having time to grab Edd’s last packet of tissues, I stumbled for cover and got my lower garments clear of the dangerzone just in time. Needless to say, after almost five months of gastric good-health, I’d finally succumbed to the horrors of ‘Delhi belly’…or, more accurately, ‘Kat Gut’. ;-)
After this first attack, whilst I suddenly found myself sweating profusely, I felt a damn sight better than I had 5 minutes previously and at this stage I saw no reason not to continue up the hill. We opted to follow the army-built road instead of taking the forested (and more difficult) footpath and were making fine upwards progress when the weather decided to throw his hat into the ring. Out of nowhere we were suddenly hit by a deluge of steadily-increasing rain and the cloud ceiling decided to come and take a closer look at the mountain and surrounding valley. Unsure whether to proceed and unprepared for foul weather, we hunkered down under the shelter of some trees and tucked into our packed lunch to wait and see how the weather developed.
Several times the rain stopped and we advanced a few hundred metres further up the trail, only to be sent scurrying for cover by fresh downpours. As this went on, our enthusiasm certainly began to wane and the final straw came when my innards announced a new and urgent desire to be elsewhere once again. Unable to deny my spasming guts and fresh out of tissues after the previous episode, I was forced to tear several pages from my, hitherto pristine, Nepal Lonely Planet (sorry, Mum!) to do the necessary. At this point I was extremely grateful for the hand sanitizer I’d picked up in Cambodia so many weeks before – but clean hands or no, the only thing I wanted to do was get off that mountain and be within running distance of some decent toilet facilities. Reluctantly, we abandoned our attempt on Pulchowki (Edd’s second after the ill-fated trip with his kids) and headed back to town, where I wisely stocked up on plain biscuits, fruit juice and water and gratefully wrapped myself up in a sleeping bag.