After the river, we split off from the path we had taken up. Instead of heading back over a ridge to Dingboche, we peeled off right down a valley to Pheriche.
This was a huge glacial valley, with an perspective so big we could scarcely comprehend it. The path led across rock fields, streams, patched of grass. Occassionally herds of Yak were hounded up the path by loud voiced shepherds. At our backs and sides, the mountains still guarded us.
As we reached the town, an athletic Scandinavian looking woman rushed out of one of the buildings and called out to us, 'you are medical Doctors? I have an ill Chinese here'.
'No sorry. Whats wrong?'
'Alititude', she said grimly. Shortly afterwards a helicopter appeared overhead. We watched a body on a stretcher be carried out. The Sherpas told us he had not done his acclimatization days and had suffere the consequences. So far we had had no problems at all, no sickness, no injuries. Here was a big reminder of how dangerous the mountains can be if you do not follow the advice given.
Surprisingly, we found another victim at the teahouse, one we knew much better. Matt had left the group we were trekking with two days before due to food poisoning, and had not made base camp.
'Good to see you dude! How you feeling?' Mark asked.
'Much better! I can keep liquid down now'. Matt grimaced. 'Cant believe that I got so close, and it wasn't even altitude sickness that stopped me from making it'.
We couldn't afford to stay long, so swapped some diahorrea tablets for some chocolate bars and set off.
After the valley, the path snaked about half way up one side of a steep valley, a river rushing by beneath us. Vegetaion and trees slowly started to sneak up and join the path. It took me quite a time to realise that we had actually been on this path a few days previously, heading the other way.
We passed small villages. Somare, Pangboche, and then crossed the river on a steep rope bridge and started the ascent through the Rhododendrum forests to Tengboche, and the monastery where we had stayed what seemed weeks before. It was three a clock, and already it felt like dusk.
'How much further Indra?'
'Another two or three hours?'
'Can we make it? Should we stay here?'. Part of me wanted to say in Tengboche. I wanted another look round the monastery and to see if I could find the monk who I spoke to before about Padmasambhava. Even after my experiences at Base Camp, I had not been able to shake his presence from this trip.
'We must make it. We cannot make Lukla in one day from here'. I was disappointed in some ways, but also relieved. The inward nature of the trip to base camp had become as difficult as the outward. I needed to get some distance from Guru Rinpoche and get back to the real world.
So we headed off into the gloom. The path lead down steeply from the monastery, across another river, and then up and up and up again to the ridge outside Namche. It seemed to go on forever, and although 1300m down from base camp, the climb was undoubtably easier, it was still an effort. Eventually however, Amadablam View Guesthouse appeared and we greatfully flopped inside.
Apart from a retired Aussie salesman, we were the only guest here. It was the best appointed Lodge we had been in so far - a nice wooden common room, a warm open kitchen next dooe, comfortable beds, a good hot shower, and a fantastic view to Amadablam Mountain opposite. This was all due to the larger than life personality of the owner Tashi, a very energetic middle aged Sherpa lady whose personality and character oozed from every corner of the lodge.
After supper I saw a picture of a Buddhist Teacher on the wall. "is that Padmasambhava?' I asked Tashi.
'You know Guru Rinpoche?' She asked surprised.
'Well only a little, but I am quite interested in him', I replied.
'That one isn't. That is his, erm, Prime minister who stays in the valley. But you know Buddhism? Would you like to see my prayer room?'
'Yes please!'. Mark and Ian were equally as intrigued as we followed Tashi up the stairs.
At the end of corridor, she drew aside a curtain revealing a hidden door. With a big key she removed from her shawl, she unlocked the padlock, and we stepped into a room, almost completely dark, the only illumination coming from three candles.
'Yak Candles' Tashi announced. 'I keep them burning all day and all night'. And with a flourish she turned on the lights.
We all gasped in unison. We were in a fantastically carved and colourful shrine room, all reds and yellows and delicate paintings, as detailed as any monastery we had seen. Tashi showed us round each part.
'This is the alter. Here is Buddha Shakyamuni, and Guru Rinpoche. Here are Chenrazig and White Tara and Green Tara', she showed us the statues on the shrine cabinet.
'Over here I have many Tibetan Prayer books. Some of them very old. Here I have offering bowls. The cabinet was made for me in Kathmandu, and bought up here in six pieces'.
We looked round the room dumbstruck. The walls were painted with incredible detail.
'Four monks and three Nuns spend forty days painting it for me', Tashi noticed our stairs. 'I paid the monastery a lot for this, but it is worth every penny. Two month ago I had forty monks come for blessing Pija. They stay for five days!
'These are all Medicine Buddhas, you know bring money and good luck and health. I pray to them every day.
'Here we have instruments for the monks. Conch shell, bell, cymbal drum and trumpet. This one very old, maybe over one hundred, belonged to my Grandfather. Hey, you know how to make protestations? LKet me show you'.
She demonstrated the correct mudra, or hand position and showed us how to bow to the Buddhas. 'Yes thats right. If you do it enough times you will be very lucky
' I come here every morning, and clean. I say prayers and mantras. It maked my head clear, and takes away the fear'.
'Do you think this has helped your business, being a good Buddhist?' Ian asked.
'I don't know. I have a lot of bad things happen when I was young. My parents died in India visiting Dalai Lama when I was young. My aunts and uncles went mad. I had to look after big family being the oldest.
'I prayed to Buddhas every day, and said Mantras. Slowly things started to get better. We opened a small teahouse here. Then a bigger one. I made friends from all round the world and learnt many languages.
'My sons go abroad to study. I have two in USA at the moment. I go and visit them twice each year and have business selling jewellery there.
'They have expensive education, and yet they work as pizza delivery boys. I have no education and yet can make money just sitting there selling jewellery! Why is that! I ask them!
'I don't know if being a good Buddhist makes my business better, but it makes me feel happy'.
Eventually we left the shrine room. It was a very special experience, to see not just a special holy place, but to see the living embodiment of Buddhist principles, of kindness and compassion, of wisdom and enlightenment. I had tried to put thoughts of Buddhism out of my head since Base camp, but no matter how hard I tried, they kept coming back to me.
We woke the next morning early, and watched the clouds boil away over the valley. As we were leaving, Tashi approached me. 'Its a shame you are leaving', she said. 'I know you are interested in Padmasambhava. Behind is his holy mountain, and his cave where he meditated. In Pangboche monastery, there is an old old monk who knows more about him than anyone else in the world. I could have taken you to him and translated his stories.
Padmasambhava again! I just couldnt put him to bed! He didn't want to let me go it seemed. It felt that I was now closer to him than ever, that I was on the scent of his story, and I had been given a chance here to find out more about him. But I had to leave.
'I can't stay now', I explained to Tashi. 'I have flight and friends and commitments I must keep. But I will come back, I promise'.
'Ok, no worries', she seemed content. 'Before you go though, I have present for you, his Mantra. Say it as many times as you can, and do the protestations I taught you. You will have a happy life.
'Ohm ma a hum beza gura padma sidi hum'
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