I am here, walking for almost two days, but part of me is still on the mountain, a singleness of purpose possessing my soul, I am here, in a cold damp stone room in Namche, but part of me is still trying to work out a way up the mountain, dreaming all night of climbing slowly into the dawn. Namche is like Melville's Nantucket, filled with adventurers from all over the world, trekkers, a few climbers, an Ishmael seeking an ocean for the gray November of his soul, a grizzled Ahab bound to his monomonical zeal for the white mountain, a temporary place of departure filled with souvenir shops, Internet stores, and outdoor outfitting shops. It is difficult to shake off the mountain, it wants to possess your soul, we spent so much time not getting up that mountain. I found a very old Tibetan thanka mandala, I studied it for a long time, I was thinking about it when I was camping in the snow.
 |
| Namche |
 |
| namche school children |
 |
| trail to Namche |
 |
| Buddhist rock carvings |
 |
| bridge to Namche |
No comments:
Post a Comment