Day 5 - Trekking

This morning we were attending the village church so we decided it time to wash our hair. We had a pot of water heated on the fire and took turns bending over a bucket while the other poured water over our head being careful not to get our clothes wet. It was awkward, but effective and it's a wonderful to have clean hair. It turns out there was a “Village Development Committee” meeting this morning so most of the adults attended that, which left only a few elderly people and a lot of children attending the church service. It was nice, if a little chaotic.

Afterwards, most of the adults (and ALL of the women) went out to the fields to work. There is no day off until winter. It is a very hard living here. It looks like they only grow potatoes and millet. A few people tend to cows, yaks and sheep, but there is not much else here. There are no stores and no money. When the people need anything more than millet and potatoes they have to walk two days to get to Dunche and back, carrying sacks of goods to trade. What little money they get will usually go to oil, salt and rice, maybe some lentils. No soap, no medicine, no other spices or food, clothing just has to last … forget toys. Though, I did spend some time watching a girl who was supposed to be tending cows jump rope with a bamboo switch.

The homes are made of wood and stone, usually two story with any animals they have living below the main house. The walls are made of stones that are just laid one on top of the other. It is remarkable how straight and secure it seems, however there are gaps between the stones so I can't imagine how cold that wind is in the winter (it snows up here) and then I heard they have tons of leeches that come into the homes during monsoon. All in all the homes are clean and comfortable for this time of the year and a little roomier than many places I have seen in Kathmandu.

For dinner, Shem wants to go to an old friends house.

Shem says “I want you to meet a man who has 12 children.”

I say, “from one woman?!”

Shem says “yes, from one woman.”

I say “forget the man, I want to meet the woman.”

Shem says, “she died last year.”

I say “oh, I'm sorry. How did she die?”

Shem says “in childbirth.”

(sigh)

We go for dinner and have a lovely time, sharing stories (through translation), eating with his many children and even hearing some Tibetan songs played on a hand-carved instrument that reminds me a bit of a banjo but smaller. For dinner, we had meat. They had obviously killed some animal for us because there was a huge platter of raw meat on the floor. Tom asked if it was “buff” for water buffalo and was told that it was the “other kind.” Wow!