Day 6 - Enough is enough

Chame to Pisang

I wake up at 5 am but don't move until about 6 am. Pipi is still sleeping and only gets up around 7 am. I have time to fuel my anger :-) It takes time to get breakfast and the weird negotiations before paying. We only leave after 8 am.

It's a bit cloudy in the morning but it is going to clear up later. Pipi is walking behind me all the time.

As we leave Chame we pass the mani wall and monastery and enter the pine forest. It's about one hour of pleasant walking until we reach Talung, a small hamlet consisting of a handful of stone houses, then the trail starts going up past a beautiful apple orchard on the right till we reach Bhratang. Behind the orchard is a huge sheer rock wall. Most impressive!
We have caught up with Josh and Scott several times along the way and now again we meet on a patio in Bhratang and eat some apples freshly picked from the orchard. Delicious and refreshing, all organic :-)

Bhratang consists of maybe 3 lodges and 10 houses. Some houses are damaged and not inhabited. They are slowly falling apart. But the ones that are inhabited are very pretty. They all, independent of size, have beautiful flowers around, like orange nasturtium and some other pink flowers and dahlias. The stark contrast between the bright colours of the flowers and the grey stones is extremely beautiful.
At the entrance of Bhratang is a long wall of mani stones and prayer wheels. Lots of strings of prayer flags are fluttering against the deep blue sky. I take many pictures; it's hard for me to not do that in front of this much beauty.

After the break we continue to Pisang on the nice flat trail through the forest. The valley is narrowing slowly and in front of us, on the left river side there is a high plateau we're targetting. The river has a bid bend here to the left; the valley wall on our right is nothing but a smooth curved sheer rockface. A beautiful slab wall to climb I'd say. An huge toboggan. There's hardly any vegetation growing on it.

The trail starts gaining elevation and, as we reach a section that is cut out of the rock wall, we are forced to stop. The terrain is prone to landslides and the trail damaged. Construction workers are working on a new road and there's blasting going on ahead. We need to wait along with dozens of porters and locals.
Every single blast is amplified by the echo and the sound is terrifying. The mountain is going to fall down on us, the rock will just crumble down. I wish they stopped.
Eventually we get going again and we cross a suspension bridge to the other side of the river. We are told to hurry up because of further blasting. Beneath the bridge some construction workers are at lunch tme. They look at us with interest while dipping their fingers into their daalbhat. There's probably 50 of them or more, dusty, dirty, strong but tired. It all looks like a labor camp. But I have to hurry.

After a pretty steep section uphill the trail mellows out but we get caught in between blasting areas. For a while the blasts occur both left and right from our position. It's terrifying. The mules that caught up with us and had to be stopped under threats, hits and whips stand nervously around while the blasts shake the valley.
After more than an hour delay the trail is clear to go again. The forest is heavily logged and there are piles of fire wood everywhere. Ever since Chamje we did not find any place using kerosene. Unfortunately, we trekkers, only contribute to the environmental damage.
We reach Dhukure Pokhari, a little hamlet, after another half an hour. Here we stop for lunch in a garden restaurant in the shade. It is extremely hot, the sun is burning through my skin. I enjoy the conversation with Josh and Scott over lunch and savour my daalbhat.

A new lodge is being built nearby. It is all made of wood and glass and looks like it's going to be the ultimate guest house extravaganza ;-) What a waste... Just thinking about all those porters carrying the huge glass sheets up the mountain.

We continue towards Pisang. The forest is becoming less and less dense and we eventually reach a meadow with a couple of ponds. Cows and horses are grazing peacefully. The valley has gained in width again with forest on the left and alpine landscape on the right. We can already see Upper Pisang perched high up on the slope to the right of the Marsyangdi river. It's a nice cluster of grey stone houses topped by a brightly white monastery sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.

We reach Lower Pisang about one hour after our lunch break. Here, again, Pipi and I are staying isolated in the New Tibetan Guest House. Everybody else stays in the guesthouse across the "street". I feel the anger resurfacing especially after I suggest Pipi that we should stay in the same place as the others. He does not want to.
We are the only guests. I am the only guest. I get a room at the top floor facing North and beautiful Upper Pisang and I make it clear to Pipi that from now on I won't share the room any longer and that in the morning I plan on leaving at 6 am and take the upper trail through Gyaru. I had enough. He agrees sheepishly this time. I am clearly and visibly angry.

The toilet door does not close and the light is not working there. I also discover that the showers are not really showers but merely taps. I'm not picky normally and wouldn't be this fussy if I were not this angry. And, considering that the charges are the same in the different lodges, I see no reason to pay for a service I do not get here but could get next door. Not to mention that here I'm alone whereas all other people are staying next door. But I'm not wasting much time in discussions.

Still mad I decide to go explore the village and especially Upper Pisang praised by the guide books as being very beautiful. The trail takes me past a wall of prayer wheels and across a suspension bridge over the Marsyangdi river. Next the trail goes steeply up the hillside winding through wheat and barley fields. At least that's what I think they are.

As I keep turning to look back I notice peeking out from behind the clouds Annapurna II. I've been waiting for it all day. There it is - majestic like an ice princess. I stop to take pictures, changing lenses and pressing the shutter button like crazy. The window in the clouds is changing and I get to see different details.
Then, as the clouds close in like acurtain over the beautiful peak I turn and continue uphill to the village.

The village is a maze of narrow lanes or trails around stone buildings. There's no straight line, no signs at all either. The lanes are overgrown by plants and flowers. Here, too, beautiful flowers adorn corners and roofs and decks.
As I randomly pick a trail I discover an old gompa (monastery) with beautifully carved window shutters and frame. There is an invasion of flowers around it. Nearby is a long array of prayer wheels. A few steps away an old man is drying out bunches of grass in the sun. A pot of marigold dominates a roof. A man on the roof of Hotel Annapurna is watching me.
- Namaste. He asks me whether I am looking for a room.
- Sorry, I'm staying in Lower Pisang, but I want to see the monastery. Is this the way?
- Yes, just walk around the building.
So I walk around and he comes out and we exchange a few words.
I continue my way up to the monastery.From up there the views of the valley, fields and peaks are breathtaking. The flat roofs are made of sheets of wod or bark and held in place by big rocks. They make for a beautiful pattern.
Annapurna II is out of sight, concealed by the clouds. But the richness of flowers make up for that for now. A man shows up and lets me inside the monastery.
The monastery is fairly new - since 1999 - but it is extremely beautifully painted inside and not overloaded. In the center of the ceiling there's a beautiful mandala. I learn that the wood is from the local forest and the painters were mainly from Bhutan. After taking some pictures I make a donation and put down my name in the guest register. I see many British, Australians and other nationalities including a whole bunch of Hungarians, but nobody from Romania :-) At least on the few pages I browse through.

After leaving the monastery I hed downhill slowly when I suddenly have an idea. Why not stop for a tea at Hotel Annapurna on the deck and chat with the man ?

When I pass the hotel entrance I peek through the window and the man comes out.
- Would you mind if I came in for a tea? I ask.
-No, please do and he lets me in and leads me to the deck in the backwhere I initially saw him. From here you have a perfect view of the valley, the village and, of course, Annapurna II and IV. Right ow the peaks are ot visible though.
I ask the man if he would join me for a cup of tea if I ordered a small pot and he nods smiling.
-What kind of tea?
-Nepali tea.

A few minutes later he comes back with a cup and the pot and brings a coffee table closer. I ask him to bring a second cup for himself and then after a "Cheers" we enjoy our tea.
The man is from Pisang, his wife from Kathmandu and they have a 7-year old daughter in a boarding school in Kathmandu. His name is Pashupathi and he is a member of the District Development Commitee. He has this guesthouse for 11 years now. Guides never bring their clients up to Upper Pisang, but in high season the individual trekkers come up here. It's a shame that guides do that I find. The trekkers miss a lot.

As we chat the clouds around Annapurna II again open up and I am fascinated and hyper. Great views, nice conversation, good tea. I am so happy I had this idea and pursued it.
When Annapurna II peeks next out next from behind the clouds in much better light I sart shooting again. Then Pashupathi has a great idea. He wants a picture with me. So here I am setting up tripod and getting the picture with him and Annapurna II in the background.
Pashupathi is very happy, too. During our chat I learn from him that the Tilicho Lake trek is a grea way to acclimatize and no camping is needed since they built the lodge. He also confirms what I know about the upper trail alternative to Manang over Gyaru. He also shows me the trail from up there.
Afer finishing my tea and getting his address I pay for the tea and get ready to leave. Pashupathi is hugging me continuously and then kisses me 3 times on my cheeks.

I leave smiling and happy but also wondering about what it is about me that seems to appeal so much to these men. Will I find out? I remember the teacher on the evening in Besisahar telling me that I'm ... beautiful. Of all the things in this world! Or the young and beautiful girl in the guest house in Bhaktapur saying the same. And she WAS beautiful.
It seems that we all appreciate more what we don't have. What is out of reach is more alluring and tempting and, for that matter, thought to be more beautiful. Would it be the blue eyes and light skin in my case? Probably.
I'm left wondering and will get thinking about this again and again.

I leave Pashupathi and strt going down on the narrow trail. Whe I reach the little junction with the prayer wheels I remember he told me that that's where the old gompa is. In the little building I had already taken pictures of I hear a bell ... and tha rings a bell to me ... I walk around to the doorway and an old man comes out smiling.
Inside there's a huge beautifully painted prayer wheel. At every turn the little bell above is hit and rings and a prayer goes up to the sky. Isn't that beautiful? I ask if I can take pictures, and I do after he says "yes". Then I go inside and turn the wheel myself and make a donation.
The man is extremely nice and friendly, smiling and explaining things to me which I don't understand. You see, he's not speaking a word English. We did understand each other well until he started telling me, I presume, about the history of the gompa. My Nepali vocabulary stops here, unfortunately.
I head downhill towards the river and Lower Pisang looking back repeatedly and waving. Pashupathi, my new friend, is vigurously waving back from his rooftop.
When I reach the fields I see 2 women and 2 5-6 years old girls getting on the trail. The women are carrying big loads of grass on their back. One of the girls is carrying a bag filled with potatoes in traditional style, that means that the weight is all supported by a wide strap over her forehead. The other girl carries, wrapped in traditional style around her back in a blanket a baby.
I follow them and take a few pictures. After crossing the bridge the two girls notice me nd ask explicitly for a picture. I double check always to make sure that I did not misunderstand and only take pictures after I get a confirmation. I don't like to harrass people.

When I return to the guesthouse I notice the light in my room is too dim to be able to read without a headlamp. I skip the shower and get a bit organized then I go downstairs and share a daalbhat with Pipi. The portion is too big for me.

It is 7:30 pm whe I decide it's time to go to bed where I start writing in my diary. he sky is clear and the stars are so bright. Tomorrow is going to be another beautiful day!