Nepal 57, Praying Monks and Planting Potatoes.

I’m still catching up with our travels, I’m always a few days behind. Clare went home today, I’m feeling a bit flat and listless so I’ll try to get the blog up to date as I’m about to head for the hills and more adventures for my last 14 days in Nepal.

Back to our trek. Waking early in the Guesthouse we went to the main Monastery and sat on the carpeted benches at the back. Monks were filing in with red robes and shawls, some of them wore woollen hats on their shaved heads. Apparently because most were away, the children who normally sit in the back rows were allowed to be further forward. All was silent apart from the padding of bare feet on the marble as they jostled to find a seat. There was one monk with what looked like a register, he was looking at who was seated and making notes. One boy at the back was chewing gum!

Then the chanting began. It was an absorbing sound, rhythmic and after a long time it began building into a tune, to western ears it sounded different, discordant even but, there was a harmony to it. I don’t really understand music, my son would be better at explaining it but, it tapped a very primal part of me as it rose and fell, all the monks singing, with some faster litanies (I’m guessing) mixed in. Then the drums started, and bells, the rhythm increasing and then the horns sounded long, low and high together, reverberating and loud. It was the most amazing cacophony, my whole body was vibrating. Then after a time it would stop only to be repeated several times more. Clare said afterwards she found the sound of the horns discordant and hellish. That didn’t stop her from falling asleep though. I’m glad Rajkumar didn’t prod her because she would probably have yelled out in a silent moment.

This link takes you to something similar for the horns, not so many deep voices and more modulation because it was mostly younger monks where we were. https://youtu.be/x5U0dfprrDA

There was also some ritual with huge silver oil pourers (I think) where two boys ran up and down the rows and made pouring motions on the congregation.

Towards the end a monk of higher standing gave a sermon. It was typical, the young boys getting more and more fidgety and whispering to each other as the older man droned on. Then suddenly it was over and they all rushed bare footed out of the hall heading for breakfast.

We also went back to the dining hall for breakfast. We sat in the same place as before and watched the boys singing lustily, almost shouting and again almost discordant, (Clare said if they sang like that in the UK they would be chastised). Then the metal dishes were handed out, this time with a little bowl for tea. The little bell sounded and we could eat. The food was a lump of hot doughy bread and pea stew which was delicious. The tea was in a Tibetan style, cooked with milk and salt, I quite liked it.

After breakfast we set off for Balthali and our final night stop. This took us through a forest of pine, the scent was wonderful. I think the spring with the Rhododendrons out it would be amazing, we did see a few dark red early flowers in the branches above us. As on my previous walk, we picked up a couple of stray dogs and we became temporarily part of the pack. We walked along a track high above a river and sat to have a break in a meadow where we could see a troupe of Macaques in the trees, picking their way towards us.

As we descended to a suspension bridge one of the macaques came really close, I’m guessing checking if we left any food. It was a bit like “What’s The Time Mr Wolf” every time I looked back he was a bit closer and completely still.

When we got to the bridge one ran across on the cables and the other sat on the tower waiting for us to cross.

On the other side were orange trees, Sabin and Rajkumar picked a few, and we sat and ate them when we reached the top of a steep climb. Clearly everyone does this judging by the amount of orange peel on the floor. One or two were a bit sharp but, it was refreshing.

The boys gave us nicknames of Tom and Jerry. I never did work out who was who, hahahaha!

As we walked we entered the most beautiful wide valley. There were lots of people here planting potatoes. Apparently they crop within 60 days and this is the first place I’ve seen them use compost as a soil enricher, it looked like leaf matter. Everything hand dug. The patterns are to facilitate controlled flooding. After the potatoes, they plant wheat then rice.

Walking in the raised paths between the fields was a bit precarious for Clare and I always find it strange that even a light touch can make you feel more stable. I’ve mentioned this to Dad before, sometimes when climbing something steep and you feel like you might topple, just holding a blade of grass that cannot possibly hold you, somehow stabilises you. We all went along holding hands in front and behind.

The last climb was steep and precipitous and I think it was clever of Rajkumar to put this at the end of our trek. The reward was a beautiful hotel and a room with the veiw of three valleys.

Like my Dad, Clare had adopted “Ghurkha Time” (beer) and I joined her. Cheers all!