The holidays are lumbering up and I realize that I should send out greeting cards and buy a few gifts before it turns into procrastination, though I may be there already. There are a lot of personalities around me and it will be a challenge to think of good gifts for everyone. I asked about the holiday season and he had to scan his brain (Google) to figure out what traditions there are in Nepal that would be analogous to Christmas and Hanukkah. They don’t even get a New Years celebration for another four months or so – December is a slow month for Nepal. The big festival that everyone celebrates is Dashain where there are things like family gatherings and gift giving, but there is nothing quite as significant during the winter season that could compare to the Western holidays. He assures me there is always some kind of festival going on among the Nepalese communities, but they are fragmented according to the various ethnic or caste groups and not everyone celebrates or even knows about each of them.

Over the last several months I have been fully engaged in learning about the culture and the experience of Nepal. I certainly haven’t touched on every side of life in Nepal but as far as getting to know all about Pema and his life of leading treks up and down the trails past his home in Khumjung I have involved myself very intensely. I spent over a month just talking with Pema and recording all of his stories, then I spent a month researching and setting up this website, then a month in Nepal living the experience first hand, and now it has been over a month since I’ve been back. I’ve written lots of blogs and articles on the subject and I’ve wandered the topics widely in my writing. It’s amazing to think of all that I’ve learned and how familiar I have become with the ways and viewpoints of the Nepalese people, especially the Sherpas. It looks like the others from our group have settled in and adjusted back to the world, but with slightly changed perspectives. Actually the Stranges (Steve and John) may not be back to normal just yet. Their plan was just to rest up for a couple of weeks and then get back out on a trekking route to Patagonia way down at the bottom of South America. Of course it’s actually summer down there now, so I don’t feel so bad for them, but they sure don’t have any luxuries where they’re going.

Today I’ve been scrubbing through our group’s combined collection of photos from our trip through Taipei, Bangkok, Kathmandu, and our trekking to see Mt. Everest. There were 3 or 4 digital cameras between us, I was taping onto digital video, and the Strange’s brought an actual film camera (they must have borrowed from a museum). It’s wonderful looking through all of the old scenes with the perspective of a little distance, and so many of the sights were amazing and unforgettable. Of course we have probably hundreds of landscape photos featuring white-capped mountain peaks. Along our hikes we had to stop around every new turn in the trail because we would get another spectacular view. There were also a lot of memorable people we met and there were a few yaks that left an impression on us. A lot of the pictures were of us relaxing and having fun, so those must have been after we had rested and gotten warm from the day’s hike. There’s just so much to tell in the pictures, and I could go on for quite a while on many of them. Maybe I’ll feature photos here on the blog and give a little back story. In any case, I have prepared and uploaded a selection of the 200 finest photos for you to view in the SherpaTrek Gallery, along with some stunning wallpapers.

The infernal chill from our nights camping at Lobuche has finally found its way to Utah and crept through the cracks in my windows last night to numb my toes. I thought that the bitter cold at 16,000 feet in the late autumn of the Khumbu was miserable, but at least I had a remarkably warm microfiber sleeping bag and the most miraculous moon jacket. Just as soon as I squoze into that puffy, extreme cold weather coat it would buffer the frigid sting of breeze. To be honest, once I was bundled up in that ingenious insulation I had hardly a concern on my mind. Now I can appreciate that because the heater in my apartment just couldn’t keep up with the cold last night. My blankets couldn’t capture enough warmth and even with an extra electric heater blowing right at my face I just could not break the shivers. The temperature at Lobuche must have been somewhere between zero and not much, and at the time I thought it was the depth of discomfort. Now I look back longingly to the perfectly cozy nights I spend zipped up and Velcroed in to my mummy bag sleeping on the lumpy ground listening to a roaming pack of yak bells.