‘You think he’ll be okay tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know.’ I said. ‘Yeah.’
‘I understand what you mean about it being in his head.’ She said. ‘But we can’t really know for sure, can we? I mean, altitude sickness is a real thing.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I suppose it is. I had never heard of it until tonight, but it makes sense.’
‘This is easier for you, huh?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘But maybe it is easier for me in a mental capacity than it is for him. I’ve just always had trust issues with my head.’
She laughed.
‘I mean we are barely over 3000 meters now, how likely is it to get any problems, right? Plus, he took the medicine preventively for it yesterday and the day before yesterday.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Started mine this morning.’
‘What does it do exactly?’
‘It’s just for symptoms. So you don’t get headaches and stuff from the altitude and lower oxygen levels.’
‘Hmm. So if you take the medicine, you may never know if you have symptoms or not.’
She smiled. ‘I guess not.’
She told me more about this acute mountain sickness. Seemed shitty and had me worried that once again my lack of planning or preparing in any way would get me killed up here. I kept that part to myself. I still partly believed that it was mostly in Matt’s head and that it was an excuse to not go too far too fast. After he mentioned cutting tomorrow short as well if there was too much climbing, I wanted to give him a bit of tough love. ‘Matt, it’s a fucking mountain. It will only get steeper... quicker.’ I planned to make it to our scheduled stop tomorrow with or without them. I could wait for them there, as it is a mandatory stop for all trekkers before going higher for the altitude change and acclimatization.
I was honestly worried that if we went any slower, we wouldn’t make it all. I hoped wherever he was hurting, physically, mentally, or spiritually, he would feel better tomorrow.
I was done thinking about it though. I was feeling tipsy from the altitude and beer and there was a common room with a stove which kept the place nice and cozy. It was nice feeling my face and fingers again.
28
Thanksgiving.
It wasn’t much of a holiday for me anymore, and if Matt hadn’t said anything, it would have gone by another year unnoticed. It was one of my two favorite holidays growing up. The other one being the fourth. Very American of me. Considering how un-American I was in so many other stereotypes, I was bound to have my roots planted somewhere.
Matt was doing much better today, and it helped that most of the walk was flat. We got to Manang with no trouble and looked forward to our first day off from the trek. A day for the body to catch up with the challenge it hadn’t been prepared for.
When I got to the center of town, I filled up my water bottle as usual and waited on a bench in the center of town. It was a town. Most places up to now had been small villages with small guesthouses and a small shop to buy the basics. Manang was a town on a hill. A nice square hill. It had a theater. It even had a landing strip. Small planes that only came every two or three days, but this place was class. It was the designated stopping point before going higher. Being over 3000m, it is where most people stopped to acclimatize before making the rest of the climb or it was for the few who doubted their commitment to the journey; they had a chance to fly back down.
‘Will!’
I turned around and saw a familiar face. An Israeli girl I had met in Kathmandu. We had had a drink on top of a hotel too, but it didn’t go like the night in Delhi with the Spanish girl. Her and two Germans had started their trek a day before us. They arrived in Manang the day before and were on their day of rest. She was wearing sandals and a smile. Fucking Israelis.
‘Aviva.’ I said. ‘Good to see you.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. That smile was incredible, so large, so disarming. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Matt and Cathy are just behind me.’
‘Go to Tilicho lodge. That’s where Friedrich, Herman, and I are. We’ll have dinner tonight, they’ll be glad to see you too.’
‘Cool. Sounds good.’ It would be good to see them. So much more enthusiastic and cheerful than my past two days. The mandatory day of rest must do wonders.
Matt and Cathy showed up not long after. Matt looked exhausted again. He crashed on the bench and I took the time to tell him about meeting Aviva for dinner.
We checked in to the guesthouse and grabbed a table for dinner after our showers. Aviva and a few others were already up there. We got a table next to theirs. Unsurprisingly, Aviva had made friends with everybody in the guesthouse and trail it seemed. She was a star. Not in a snobby, fucked up way, but a real star. Pure light that you couldn’t help but see against all the darkness. She had a way to make the entire room glow and made everybody feel special all at the same time.
We laughed and traded stories of the trek. Aviva must have been quite the laugh all the way up the hill too. She gave us all we needed to know about Manang; they had internet, shops, an ATM, and a medical tent with a mandatory briefing on Acute Mountain Sickness. And then we laughed more. I felt like a kid about to piss my pants I was having such a good time.
I saw a deep-fried Snickers bar on the menu. I was skeptical, so I split one with Cathy. I heard about them being popular in Scotland. I would have my first far from there. After a Yak burger, why not, my stomach threw his arms up in the air about my food intake a long time ago.
I was looking forward to my rest day. It seemed being in the heated rooms I became more aware of my body and how much pain it was in. Especially my leg. Yeah, a rest day was mandatory for this broken person.
Cathy, Matt, and I stuck around the restaurant talking. I had a few beers. We talked about the AMS and how oxygen becomes less and less after 3000 meters. We were at 3500m now. Matt was still claiming to have symptoms: headaches and fatigue. I laughed and said I had a headache and was tired too. That’s normal. It’s dehydration and climbing a fucking mountain. I was tired of talking about this sickness as if it was the great challenge to overcome. I bought some Diamox today just in case though. The others recommended I take it to avoid problems. I didn’t want to. I wanted to test this idea and see if it was real. I came from a zero sea level area, lived in a zero sea level area, and was by all accounts a prime candidate. I told them not to worry; I’d rely on military training and water. I was one of those dickheads again.
Aviva and Friedrich mentioned taking a detour to Tilicho lake. They said it was the highest lake in the world. Aviva and Friedrich would separate from Herman, their other German companion. He had a porter and schedule and seemed to be mostly doing the trail for the sake of a bucket list check-mark. The porter idea seemed appealing to Matt and Cathy too. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole porter thing. Hiring a Nepalese local to carry your big-ass bag for you seemed kind of fucked up. But fifteen bucks a day was a lot for them and helped their family and their shitty economy. Matt assured me it was an all around good thing. He was probably right, but I didn’t like the idea.
We talked about Tilicho lake. It sold me. I saw it as a test. The base camp to the lake was only at 4000 meters, but the lake itself was a half-day climb of over 1000 meters, then back down again to the lake at an even 5000 meters. The Thorong La pass that was the pinnacle of our adventure wasn’t far from this at 5416m. Both required steep climbs and immediate descents on the same day. The lake would be a test. If I climbed it and handled it well, I could go into the pass with confidence. If I failed, it would make the pass more intimidating, but I would have a little more altitude training. It would be a blessing and a curse. I liked that. I was never a gambling man, but I always gambled with my well being.
The beer was feeling good and my negative feelings of the past two days, of Matt’s struggles, were fading away. We sat at the table with our maps and high hopes, planning the detour and where to get back on trail without losing t
oo much time. We figured we could push it and do it in three days or take our time and do it in four. I was against more time-taking, but three days would be a good push. I figured if Matt took a porter though, it may be possible.
All hurt feelings aside, I finished my beer and wished my two friends a good night.
Climbing down the stairs, I felt a bolt of lightning through my leg. I was in trouble. I climbed down the rest of the stairs, only descending one leg and clutching the side rail to drag the other one behind me. I made it to my lightweight summer sleeping bag and shivered to sleep.
I WOKE UP FOR THE FIRST time without the sound of an alarm clock. It was still only 7am. Not much had happened since I fell asleep. I mean a lot had happened in the world. People died. Babies were born. Talks of revolution were shouted and whispered in pubs. People fell in love. People had sex. People drank. People watched TV. People watched bad TV. People fell out of love. People searched for the meaning of life on Google. But for me, nothing happened in the waking world.
My dream, however, woke me feeling furious. Another dream where Claudia hurt me. I always had dreams of her hurting me. This time through my family. Funny, I hadn’t contacted her since my arrival in Nepal and so she was contacting me through my subconscious. She was a Romanian witch. In all fairness, she had already told me she was.
In the dream, I can only assume we were living together at my dad’s home. My little brother was there, and my cousin, Jordan. Claudia fucked both of them and married my brother. Now all three of us were in love with her and distrusted each other - including her. And Claudia seemed to live it up as Mrs. Independent, doing as she pleased despite the consequences. Her attitude reminded me of a spoiled teenage girl or a scorned ex-lover who never got over her last breakup. I found out later in the dream that the latter was correct.
Broken and angry, I still saw how ridiculous the whole situation was and ended it. I start by vocally dismantling the situation. This stopped the immediate hatred among my brother and cousin. Claudia responded with much louder and colorful responses. Using her beauty to her advantage. When this didn’t work as she had hoped, she put on this big show. Literally a show. Stage and all. People from the neighborhood showed up. She apologized to John for not being a good woman and wife and promised to be good to him from there on out. This worked, and even I felt bad, and later angry again. My brother, he deserved better than me. But he also deserved better than her.
Luckily, the anger snapped me out of my trance and I acted again. This time not vocally or in a show as she had done, but through writing. I immediately started writing everything. How everything happened. Claudia caught wind of this and knew I would paint her as the bad guy. Everybody’s a bad guy in somebody’s story, sweetie. She also didn’t like that I had given her no attention since her show. She was better at this game in real life. Even my imagination couldn’t keep up with her.
She was distraught and sought me out. The entire dream took place in and around my old house, so it didn’t take long for her to find me. She tried destroying my computer to end my attempt at telling the story. When she failed, she appealed to the side of me that loved her. First, by crying and saying ever since I walked into her life, I had ruined it. Second, by pleading to allow her to try a life again with my brother.
It seemed sincere. And out of hurt, sympathy, and ultimately love, I left. I went to an apartment in the city telling no one. Blytheville was not a big city. It was not even a city; it was a town. But it felt far away.
Sitting alone in my new apartment, I knew I had done the right thing. I would miss them, but there was no place for me in their lives anymore.
Then I fell back asleep. It was only about fifteen or twenty minutes, but it sent me to another home movie. I did that a lot. Sometimes on purpose. Just by hitting the snooze five or six times, I could watch a few different movies every morning. Sometimes it was a series. It was the only thing I liked about waking up.
I had an erotic dream this time. I didn’t remember much, but I woke up happy and confused. That one was much simpler to analyze. I hadn’t released the pressure at all since my trek started. The pressure had been building, but it was just too damn cold to do anything about it.
THESE DREAMS REMINDED of other vivid dreams I had experienced so far on the trek.
I was walking past my bathroom back home in Marseille in the apartment Claudia and I shared. I glanced in to see Claudia doing something in the mirror. I then saw another man in the mirror beside her. Shocked by this, I took a half step back to get a better look. I realized that man in the mirror was making the same movements as myself. The only conclusion was that it was me in the mirror. I was the other guy. Despite knowing this, I did not recognize myself. I saw I had shaved which threw me off, but even after this I spent five minutes looking at myself trying to figure out what was different. Trying to see who I was. After some time, I just shrugged and accepted this stranger in the mirror.
The night before that, I woke up terrified. I had lost sleep because of it. Resting the whole night eyes wide shut.
I was sitting in a high grassy field in the middle of the night. I was not sure why, but I felt the need to keep a constant surveillance on the two-story farmhouse about 200m in front of me. There was also somebody 100m to my left doing the same thing. He was not somebody I knew in real life, but in this dream he seemed to be a teammate of mine. Despite the military feel to it all, I had no weapon of any kind and I had no clear objective in mind.
To my right was a clothesline. On my first scan of the area, there was nothing hanging on it. However, on a later scan of the area, I saw something. I keep my eye on it to make out what it was in the dark. After a few minutes with no clear idea, the wind blew, causing this thing to bounce and turn on the line. As the gust passed by and caused this thing to bounce slowly, it turned towards me. With a glow, possibly from the moonlight, I saw the face of a Japanese cat doll staring at me. I continued to stare back, scared of this strange occurrence, but curious at the same time.
Eventually, my attention was pulled away by the shadow of a man behind the glowing, smiling cat. How did he get there? Who was he? Where did he come from? How could I let him get so close without being aware? I sat perfectly still and monitored him. Maybe he hadn’t seen me yet. He started to move closer to me, but unhurried. I could still not see any defining details, just a dark silhouette of a man. I started to question myself. What was I supposed to do about this? Why couldn’t I see his face, but the damn doll was so clear? What was I doing here?
By this point, the man shone a light in my direction. He kept the light focused on my area, but I was confident I was still well hidden. He started to move toward me again, keeping the light in my area. Fear took over, and I became paralyzed. Then an inner voice took over and told me to sit up. I obeyed. The light moved to my face, barely revealing myself above the high grass line. Paralyzed in fear. A deer caught in the headlights. I had failed. A feeling of defeat washed over me. Death was a welcome certainty. The man moved quicker. Was there no last escape? Could this be a dream? I told myself to move. Move! I told myself to shake out of this and run. I shook, I woke up. It had all been a dream, but the feeling lingered with me as had the image.
I TOOK THE REST OF the day to stroll up a hill without a bag. Going up was okay on my leg. I also learned in my Acute Mountain Sickness briefing that going up and down hills helped. I still couldn’t understand how people didn’t realize that where we were in Nepal and everything was up and down. I took a hike to a nearby lama to receive a blessing. I liked these old Tibetan guys. They had something figured out. I knew in idea what it was, but when you saw them, you just felt it. They had good spirits. You knew a good spirit when you met one.
He didn’t ask for money but 100 Nepalese rupees was less than a euro and I would have given him more if I had seen him begging on the side of the street in Marseille. He gave me a pat on the head with a wooden block while saying a bunch of things I didn’t understand. Then he put a strin
g necklace around me. It was supposed to be good luck for getting over the pass. He probably knew I would need it.
I stayed up on the top of that hill until sunset. I could see the small town of Manang about 500 meters down. But I mostly stared at the glacier on the other side of the valley. I had never seen anything like it. It was overwhelming. It was beautiful. The day had been beautiful.
I climbed back down to meet my companions for dinner. I hadn’t seen them for the most part of the day.
Matt broke the news he wouldn’t be leaving with us tomorrow. I saw this coming. Cathy also felt sick now. Well, shit. It was a down conversation after such an up day. The weather was supposed to be cloudy and snowy tomorrow and my leg was still causing trouble. Now, I was making excuses. It was contagious. Tomorrow may turn into another rest day. Fuck it. I would like to continue, but if waiting one more day meant I would have company, it was a fair idea.
I also learned that if something happened to me at this point in the climb, they would have to send a helicopter. But they wouldn’t send a helicopter unless you had traveler’s insurance and a $3500 minimum credit card. I had neither. Matt said if something happened though, he would call it in under his name and then figure out the details once I made it down the mountain. He also lent me a couple thousand rupees since the ATM didn’t exist. I hadn’t thought of the money thing either, so I was out of cash and not even on the other side of the mountain. Preparation was key. I seemed to lose keys a lot.
29
Matt stayed.
I felt him leaning in that direction from the dinner the night before. I wasn’t feeling that much better, but I just didn’t want to stay in the same place for that long when we were only halfway up climbing up the hill. This lake I had only heard of also enchanted me. It seemed more worthy to see, to achieve than just walking over a mountain pass.
Sin and Zen, #1 Page 11
