Sagarmatha's In Sight

How do you describe the Himalayas?

You can't...at least I can't.

I have been very fortunate in my life to have seen and even been on top of some of Mother Nature’s most majestic mountain ranges. And every time I visit one I am more awe-struck than the last.

But this time, when I look the Himalayas, I am more than awe-struck…I am emotional.

The Himalayas are majestic. Covered in snow, they spike out of the earth and puncture the sky like shards of glass. Not all are voluptuous, like many of their peers. Not all are covered in pine, like many of the mountains I grew up around or skied on. And, while they are not the most beautiful mountains I ever have seen…they evoke emotions like no other.

I have probably seen every documentary and made-for-TV movie on Everest and the Himalayas. I have read even more books on the highest peak and those that attempt to conquer it. When I look at them, I can’t help but relive the words I’ve read about these mountains. I feel like I know them. Yet here they are, spread out in front of me as far as the eye can see, and they are shrouded in mystery…but I swear I hear them speaking loud-and-clear.

Part of the emotion, I think, comes from where these mountains are located. They are in the middle of some of the poorest people in the world. Where homes sit precariously on the sides of silted land that you just know will give way at the slightest rainfall. Where farmland is cultivated on long, slender, terraced slopes—slopes that bravely hold vegetation against all odds of succeeding. Where yaks and goats dot the landscape and graze in dramatic fashion on such drastic slopes that I wonder how in the world they managed to get to this place and how in the world will they manage to get down? It is incredibly harsh land and living here isn’t easy. Yet people live here, many by choice, moving back from the “big city” to be among family. And in spite of all this…or perhaps because of all this…the Nepalese are some of the most generous and happy people I have ever met. I am embarrassed by my impatience with my life in Barbados, because these people, who have very little, seemingly want for nothing.

Maybe they are magic? Maybe they are controlled by the Gods? Maybe whatever power these mountains have, and I do believe they have their own power, maybe that is what makes the people here so special. Maybe it is the Himalayas that give the Nepalese grace and wisdom and tolerance.

We sat, my husband and I, on a peaceful bench, and marveled at what was placed in front of us. We felt special that our eyes were taking in this sight…this range of the Himalayas…the range that includes Sagarmatha—“Mother Goddess,” what the locals call Mount Everest. We sat at the “End of the Universe” sipping our Masala Tea, alone at this lovely Inn, alone with our thoughts of this place, looking at something that we had only dreamt of seeing. We were memorizing the planes and angles and shadows because we knew the photographs we were attempting to take with our cameras would be a joke compared to the reality of our situation.

And, there in the distance, there it was, there she was…there was Everest…the top of the world. Mount Everest—the enigma—sat at the end of the range of mountains in my view. If I were not told it was Everest, I would not have known. There was nothing special about that “bump” on the horizon. There were far more impressive, and beautiful, peaks in its path. But when it was pointed out, I was overcome with something…was it speaking to me? I was drawn to tears…again.

While I don’t understand men and women risking their lives to sit on top of this “bump,” now I can at least comprehend it. At that moment, I too wanted to touch the top of the world.

Namaste