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the kids we met
Dalam peradaban yang amat ekstrem ini, dari balik semak kering berduri, tiga anak Nepal berlarian kecil, tertawa... mereka akan pergi ke sekolah...
Setiap hari, 3.5 hingga 4 jam mereka berjalan kaki menuruni gunung untuk bersekolah di satu-satunya SD di lereng Langtang Range, Himalaya. Sekolah ini bernama Mandala, donasi seorang mahasiswi kaya dari Jepang, yang amat tersentuh hatinya melihat semangat anak-anak kecil seperti mereka.
"Namaste..." sapa mereka kepada kami, sembari mengatupkan kedua telapak tangan, layaknya orang menyembah... mereka hanya menggendong tas kecil, berisi buku tulis lusuh berlogo lembaga donasi asal Jepang, dan di tas mereka ada sekilas emblem mirip bendera Jerman.
Secara intuisi saya suruh Sherpa saya untuk memberi mereka coklat dan biskuit bekal kami... tak apalah, small token untuk semangat anak-anak kecil itu yang begitu menginspirasi. Lagi pula masih ada beberapa army biscuit untuk bekal sampai di puncak. Dan begitulah pertemuan kami dengan anak-anak itu berakhir...
Ooppsss... ternyata, salah perhitungan!
Rumah penduduk (tea house) tempat kami akan singgah dan makan di atas ternyata tinggal puing-puing. Terpaksa, satu hari lagi berjalan menuju 'pitstop' makanan selanjutnya... dan bekal kami sudah habis... Kami berdua tertawa... tidak ada sesal sama sekali telah memberi bekal coklat dan biskuit kami pada anak-anak itu...
Dengan bekal air minum dari sungai glacier, satu buah apel sisa dari Kathmandu, dan satu bungkus 'mi gelas' dari Jakarta, kami lanjutkan perjalanan... pelan... pelan... dan mulai terpengaruh 'severe altitude syndrome'... pusing, mual dan 'hangovered'.
Rupanya Tuhan tak ingin kami mati disana.
Dari atas kami lihat seorang pendaki Korea, seorang fotografer, dan Sherpa nya sedang turun... tanpa berkenalan dia langsung membongkar carier raksasanya... 'beban kami terlalu berat' katanya... 'kalian ambil saja sisa makanan kami...pasti kalian lebih perlu buat di atas nanti, siapa tahu terjebak badai dan tidak bisa turun cepat... kami sudah tidak perlu lagi bekal ini'... kira-kira begitu omongannya dalam bahasa Inggris yang terbata.
Dan tiba-tiba 4 pack cokelat besar, 12 bungkus sosis dan satu kantong plastik buak kering diberikannya kepada kami. Alhamdulilah, bungkus sosis Korea itu semuanya pake bahasa kriting, sehingga tidak perlu tahu itu babi atau sapi :) dijamin halal...!
Setelah itu barulah kami berkenalan. Hwang Im Hoo, namanya. Sang utusan dewa penolong kami.
It's too good to be true. But miracles do happen. And I was the lucky one!
enjoy the chocolate, kid...
take a shot before bidding farewell. Me, Hwang and our Sherpas.
Hwang, my hero!
"Sebelum trekking ke Nepal harus banyak treadmill dan berenang, untuk latihan pernafasan, agar nafas lebih ritmis di saat oksigen tipis dan yg paling penting, tidak kena serangan jantung ketika ditodong M-16 nya pemberontak Maoist..." kata teman di sebuah blog minggu lalu.
Rupanya dia baru turun dari Jiri, jalan darat menuju Everest base camp, dan saat pulang dihadang pemberontak Maoist di jalan. Hahaha.. senasib dong sama gue. Bedanya, gue dapet AK-47 nya, bukan M-16, yah biarpun sama-sama senjata otomatis yg bisa muntah puluhan peluru sekali tekan.
Bedanya lagi, dia ditodong di Jiri (Nepal Timur), saya ditodong di Dunche (Utara). Yah biarpun sama-sama di Nepal dan sama-sama ditodong sama Maoist. Sama nya lagi, kita sama-sama hidup, seperti kata Bob Marley, "everything just gonna be alright".
Deg-degan pasti dong... tapi dengan kepedean bahwa mereka tidak akan membunuh turis asing (kecuali pemberontaknya ada yg latah... eh salah pencet 'bo...!) then, we're just gonna be alright. Cukup siapkan Rs.2000 setiap kali ditodong, dan kita akan bebas. Dan karena paling tidak akan ada 3 kali penodongan, maka siapkan Rs.6000! and you'll be set free...
Dan karena di Nepal tidak ada kedutaan Indonesia, maka semua risiko perjalanan adalah tanggung jawab traveler sendiri, termasuk urusan diplomatik. Tidak akan ada yg tau kalau turis Indonesia ada yg ditembak, dikarungin trus diceburin ke jurang... tidak akan ada yg peduli juga kalo kita dipenjara trus dipasung atau diasingkan ke hutan... (hmm..berlebihan!). Poin nya adalah : beli asuransi perjalanan extreme sport dengan coverage minimal US$ 1 juta include medical and emergency evacuation. Nah itu baru ada yg peduli...
Pemberontak Maoist dengan jargon Lovism (Pathways to Heaven) yg disimbolkan dengan garis melingkar2 sebagau ilustrasi hidung Buddha ternyata cukup unik dalam mengekspresikan "lovism" nya... yaitu dengan menodongkan senjata kepada kami. Mungkin sebenernya mereka mau bilang : welcome to my country. we love you brother... but love comes with a price.... and now gimme your damn bucks!
But this place is too nice to be missed. Once in a lifetime experience. And I was a lucky one :)
PS : DON'T TELL THIS TO MY MOM
Syabrubesi, the last village reachable by vehicle on the Langtang Himal region, is settled at 1,430m altitude. A small village that provides basic lodging for the trekkers before the get 'lost' out of civilization.
This village has approximately 20 hostel and lodging, ranging from NR30 (Rp.5,000) to NR200 (Rp.30,000) per night room only. For food, the Daal Bhat, a local diet, cost you about NR100 (Rp.15,000) to NR150 (Rp.22,500). Hot ice lemon tea costs NR100 (Rp.15,000) and a mineral water bottle tagged at NR30 (Rp.4,500). An internet cafe using dial-up radio telephone is also available and charge you NR125 (Rp.18,750) per hour.
Syabrubesi can be reached by public bus (operating daily from Kathmandu central bus station, departing every 7:00AM) costs NR240 (Rp.36,000) or using a private jeep which costs normally NR4,000 (Rp.600,000). The drive will take normally 8h30 until 10hrs for 168km distance, depending on the weather.
The terrain is an off-road environment. The paved road from Kathmandu reached up to Trishuli Bazaar, the first 68km of the journey, the rest is just so called 'road' with occasional waterfall cuts the way, and landslides!
I stayed at Buddha Hotel. The room was basic but it has a nice shared toilet and hot shower! and electricity to charge my camera's batteries, before the great trek begins. In the first floor, there's a restaurant where all the guests are served meals for breakfast and dinner. This village is the last place with electricity, so I have to be really wise to deal with it.
Rhododendron flowers
My bus
Afternoon time, before 4pm the bus arrived (thank God!) after some severe ordeals have to be encountered along the way. The temperature shows 10C, and the drizzle begins to moist the valley.
I spent the afternoon walking around the valley, talking with the villagers and admired the Rhododendron flowers over the sunset. A plate of Daal Bhat and hot Nepali tea wrapped up my day. A good sleep is required before the great journey begins, tomorrow morning to Pairo (Landslide Village - 1,800m) and Lama Hotel (2,300m), where I spotted a small place called the Shangri-la.
The river on my narrow sidewalk to Shangri-la
Hanoi - oh Donna Donna When I first hit the road of Hanoi, one thing I remember is the Donna Donna song, my mom's favorite. Written by Joan Baez popular in the mid 60's. Hanoi is pretty much alike with what the song tells. Packed with bicycles, the Hanoi road is distinguished from any other world capital cities. ]
Women wearing colorful traditional costume and Vietnamese corn-hat while cycling down the road gives a strong nuance and identity to the city. As well, sign of a strong Communist influence, as Baez implicitly portrayed in his lyrics. Another identity of this city is sports. Everyone loves sports. Every morning elderly people gather in the public park doing exercise (a kind of Indonesia's SKJ in the early 90's). The younger people do badminton or soccer games, or just run for jogging. At another corner of the park near a lake, grandies do Chinese tai chi exercise, beautifully performed with red fans danced in their hands.
Also at night, people gather at the street banks for dinner with their families and relatives. Outside their house. Basil's fragrance is another identity; soups, shrimp rolls, pho (noodles) and beef alike are in flavor of those basils. This street's smell distinguished it from Delhi (incense) and Jakarta (cigarette). O Hanoi Donna Donna. People are so friendly, like my mom's story of those in the seventies. Eventhough they don't speak English but their smiles saying that we are welcomed as a family. In the night market, we sit together with the street vendors, talking about education and children, food and tourism and their hopes of the future Viet nations.
I was overwhelmed with their sincerity and life spirit. Jomima took some bracelets made of stones which was decorated with colorful characters and painting. They made it special for her. I myself prefer to enjoy the talks and eyeing on the crowds... and sometimes take a few shots.
The night market has turned its function from a mere exchange place into a system to interact and show-off their communality. Vietnam has shown the world that Communist could co-mingle with prosperity. And they portray it beautifully.
Who says fantasy never comes to reality? Last year this was my fantasy, The Great Himal.
Until over midnight, when silence was the only presence, I could finally close my eyes but not for that long. I was pretty scared, honestly. I got to be accustomed to breathe with only one third oxygen intake into my lungs.
Theoretically, I have to climb higher, say 4,500 m first then go down at least 500 m to the altitude of 4,000 m for overnight stay and acclimatising. But this time, there's no time to climb higher, the weather and time just did not favorable to do that. The result was, whenever I reached the 4,000 m basecamp, I had to stop the trek and stayed overnight. My lungs were not yet adapting to this new environment and demanding more oxygen, which was not available!
Fortunately, I could manage the acclimatising process within a few hours. I shortened my heart beats and totaly did relaxing all my bodies to save the oxygen. A few hours later, my body could finally adapt to this new altitude and I could feel my blood circulating as normal. No more headache and vomitting.
In the morning, I was okay. The same story applies to the extreme cold acclimatising process. Spending the rest of my life in the equator weather of 30-35C, I had to push myself to the limit dealing with sub zero temperature, which once reached -16C. How's that feel? It's damn cold! Twice as much colder than your freezer box. But I survived. How?
I learned that it is not the extreme temperature that makes you cold, but your body itself. When you get into an extreme cold environment, one thing to note is to prevent your body heat leaking outside, meaning that you have to keep your body warmth inside your inner clothing. That's why you need thermal clothes. A material that could retain heat and prevent it from evaporating. At once it should be able to 'breathe' your sweat.
No matter how cold it may be, when we are climbing, as our calories are burnt, we produce heat and sweat. Good thermal clothes will retain the heat but releasing the sweat for evaporation, it keeps your body dry. If sweat cannot be released, it could turn to be very cold and absorb your body heat. A fatal mistake.
Amazingly, our body is a supermachine. It can adapt very quickly to the environment. Its versatility provides you with comfort out of an extreme temperature. When I reached 3,500m in a mid-day, the temperature was nearly zero because of the breeze from the surrounding ice mountains. I put on my cloves and thermal cap, and down jacket for sure. However after a few hours, under the same temperature, I could simply wear light jacket without cloves and cap. I was then feel comfortable with that cold.
It happened when I went higher and higher. I believe that's why they suggest acclimatising one night every 1,000m above 3,000m altitude, to let your body find its pattern adapting the extreme environment.
What an experience! Thanks Himalaya.
the kids we met
enjoy the chocolate, kid...
take a shot before bidding farewell. Me, Hwang and our Sherpas.
Hwang, my hero!
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