Today’s is a morning I would gladly linger in for an eternity or two. Not out of fear or anticipation of the day ahead, just the solid, abstract goodness that surrounds me. As if waking naked with you lover by your side, exchanging knowing smiles after a true good night.
Happiness is strength – after three months of walking in Nepal, last night’s dal-bhat * dinner which I patiently waited two and a half hours for was by far the worst I’ve had. My right knee has recently started causing me pain that the phrase “acting up” doesn’t begin to describe. To top it off the last week of dismal, misty weather, coupled with my parting two days ago from my trekking partner of the past three weeks, albeit planned and mutual, has done nothing to help my mood.
This morning the clouds neglected to fill the sky. The valley I’d been walking in has been revealed, crowned in the west by snowy peaks. As though sensing this, my awakening at the hands (or voices) of my 7 and 4 year old local neighbors, the proprietor’s offspring, brought a smile to my cracked lips. A few minutes later with my glass of tatopani** and muddy nahle*** in my hand, I venture out of the dining room into the cold and join my closest comrades of the last months, the Himalayan summits. I can almost hear the rumbling of planes that will be arriving in the coming hours to free my trekking buddy and countless others who for days have been under siege in Lukla thanks to the unrelenting embargo of clouds. My smile proceeds to achieve the impossible, and widens a bit further.
The coffee, working its magic, sends me promptly to the ceramic hole in the ground that functions as a toilet in this part of the world. Already mentally and physically adjusted and accustomed to this, I manage to appreciate the punctuality of nature’s calling over the past few days. No matter one’s level of prudishness, a good argument can be made to the effect that the secret to a good day lies in a healthy morning outing to the outhouse.
Yesterday evening’s stretches and a solid mattress left my back in adequate condition. I feel ready for another day in the mountains. Townes van Zandt said: “to live is to fly”. I propose “to walk is to live” – step after step along a winding path, some ascending some descending, forks in the road, what awaits around the bend? The list of metaphors is endless and resoundingly true. My pack on my back, I step out into the air, my feet on the ground, and the world at my feet. I soak in the embracing beauty. This is a morning to die for. This is a morning to live for.
*Refillable dish of rice, lentils, and vegetable curry
**Literally – hot water
***My black coffee – a luxury that I’ve been breaking my back for since I brought it with me from Israel
ELIOR DEKEL
