Namaste from Pemacholing Monastery

Monastery on the hill.

Today we went to the Pemacholing Monastery for the first time. It is located about 1.5 hours up the trail and across the Dudh Koshi River on the side of the mountain. As we left the north end of Ghat we passed through prayer flag poles, that it is customary to always pass on the left side and spun the prayer wheels which it is customary to always spin as you pass by. The big man sizes wheels are located inside a small wooden structure with an open door way. For these, it is customary to start is spinning and hold on as you walk around the large wheel 3 times as the bell chimes. After we passed the last temple and prayer wheel, we could see our goal high on the mountain side past Phakding. It seemed far away, but not too far.

We were lead by Thukden who is a local young man just finished grade 12 in a private school in Kathmandu. He had been away from his family for 2 years and was just now home in Ghat waiting for his test results to get him into University. He was very very nice and spoke English very well. He was so patient with us as we very slowly made our way up from Ghat through Phakding and onto the steep trail to the monastery. All the while, as we walked on the trail, we were passed by Sherp porters carrying their loads up and down the hill. The trail meandered first through some small village properties being worked by the men and women from the area and then suddenly turned up an incredibly steep granite rock stairs that lead to the monastery. It didn’t even take 10 steps before we knew we were in big trouble. It was so tough. My legs were burning. My lungs were crying and my heart was pounding out of my chest. After what seemed like never ending stairs steps, the trail opened up into a ancient wood doorway arch painted in deep red to match the trim colors on many of the building doors around the compound.

Kirsten passing a mammoth backpack carried by a little Sherpa.

We both felt like Kung Fu Panda as we willed our what the last few steps into the monastery. But of coarse we had to pass by more prayer wheels in 50m than we have all the way from Lukla the day before. We spun each one dutifully as all the monks watched us come into their home. It was lunch time and they invited us in to sit with them. It was a very unique experience. We stepped through a very short door into an unlit hallway, which turned out to be the dinning room. The room was approximately two arm lengths wide. It was a long room. The monks streamed in and found their seats along the long benches that spanned the length of the room on both sides. The monks sit closely, side by side on the benches and look across the other monks sitting on the opposite side. Interestingly, there are female monks as well. They sat on our side mostly. A rice curry and vegetable dish was served by women on metal plates. After a very quick, but hypnotic monk chant we eat our meal. If we did not beg for mercy,the woman would continue to pile food on our plates.

After lunch we sat down with a group of young monks that looked to be about 6-8 hers old. They were so excited to see us. I think even more than we were to see them. They were dressed in traditional monk clothing and sat on the floor in front of us. We asked them if they knew their ABCs. THey immediately started scratching the letters onto their paper pads and then quickly handed them to us. They were so proud, but humble at the same time. THey were absolutely a joy to spend the afternoon with. I look forward to the time we have here to spend with them.

The gong bell rang and the little monks jumped up and ran out the door for prayer without even a hesitation. We gathered our things and headed back down the mountain. Much easier going back for sure. Back at home we enjoy another authentic meal from Angdali with help from her adopted daughter Mina (12yrs). The two of them labor from sun up to sun down to tend the field, clean the clothes and cook the meals. That is only broken by a 1-2 hours trek to go buy the supplies for the house.

As I went to sleep this night, I could not help but reflect on the experience of the day. Sitting down and being included with the monks at lunch was un comparable to anything that I can say. Sharing time with the little monks will be treasured forever. And, doing all of this in this majestic Khumbu region in the foothills of Sagarmatha, as Everest is known locally, only magnifies the experience and embeds this memory deep into my soul. I am so grateful for this opportunity.

cmackin