South From Tibet 1995

In early November 1995 I had hitched a ride from Shitgatze, Tibet south on my way to the Nepali border after spending a month in Lhasa. After a few hours on the Friendship Highway I was dropped at the t-intersection of two dirt roads; National Highways 318 and 219. The van disappeared west and I stood in a sere valley without any vegetation in sight. 

I couldn't have been happier in such desolation whereas I freak out in airports. Safe and sound from the elements.

A Tibetan driver in a empty van picked me up. He was heading to Zhangu, the last Chinese town on the highway. I paid him $20 and the road climbed over the Lalung La 5,050 meter. The Himalayas spread across the southern horizon with Everest's snowy peak towering due south. 

We stopped at a tea shop just past the Thong La and we all ate a bowl of noodles. It was the only meal on the menu.

Millions of flies covered the walls and windows. I said, "This place dirty."

The driver replied, "Before dirty. Now clean.”

I slurped down my noodles with my eyes on northern face of Chomolungma.

The next day in Kathmandu I damn near died.

Giardiasis. An parasitic intestinal invasion.

After two weeks was well enough to a motorcycle across Nepal to Jomsom.

The trailhead to well-traveled Annapurna circuit.

I was too weak to attempt the sixteen-day journey, but sat at a tea house watching the comings and going of yaks, Sherpas, trekkers, snot-nosed children and lamas.

Ne’er-changing life in the approaching shadow of the winter.