Pema is back with us this evening, and he’s making the year’s last dash down to Snow College to see his daughter Nawang. Of course Mingma is taking her last opportunity for a while to jab at her to not even think about wandering off into Christianity. As drove them the six hours to Zion National Park in southern Utah last month Mingma displayed super-human motor mouth powers as she sat in the back seat with her daughter. She must have been speaking in her native Sherpa language, and I failed to discern even the slightest pause for a breath the entire duration. I asked Pema later what topic had engaged her so adamantly, and he mumbled with brevity it was about religion. He must have been a little overloaded by all of the verbiage too, but at least he could zone out with his prayer beads. I had to actually stay alert. He went on to say that the Buddhist history and teachings have great depth and explaining them is no casual affair. Apparently Mingma was catching her daughter up on centuries of enlightenment in her brief (captive) company.

Pema will be making his return flight to Kathmandu in the morning after spending all summer visiting with his network of American friends. Most recently he was in California, Oregon and Idaho. The latter is definitely a standout for him because by fortunate coincidence (or you could call it good karma) he had the honor of meeting H.H. the Dalai Lama in Sun Valley, Idaho. He wants to show off how well he’s been doing with his prayer beads and to ask forgiveness for the hornets he killed, but more significantly, all the chickens he caused to be killed for the clients he served as a cook on the Himalayan treks. I’m not saying he’s a hypocrite (except I just said it) but he eats chicken curry every day. So I will be driving them north to the airport in Salt Lake City tomorrow. We’re both probably too nervous to talk about much. I’m mortified about the trip to Nepal and he’s clearing his lazy, Americanized mind of clutter to be an effective trail guide again. Plus he must wonder how he’s going to fit all of his shopping bags back in his luggage. I think he bought a pair of shoes for everyone in his neighborhood. We’ll meet again in Kathmandu in a couple of weeks, but I know I’ll miss hanging out and scraping paint in Milford after he’s gone.