cold comfort

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Cold comfort

After a breathless trek to the next tea house, every evening the group settled down to enjoy themselves as best they could. Their activities severely limited by the cold. An absence of heating on the scale normally enjoyed by the average westerner plus a temperature of minus 12 centigrade created an obsession with warmth that can only be guessed at by the uninitiated.

First there was the clothing: one thermal vest ,one T shirt, one thin jumper ,one thick jumper,2 pairs of trousers, a pair of gloves,a hat and at least two pairs of socks formed the basics at all times . This was topped off by a down jacket of such proportions that we rolled around the tea houses like Michelin men bumping into the furniture and each other, our arms stiffly encased in so many layers that we could barely move to eat or hold a book to read.

Fuel of any kind is very scarce in the Khumbu and there is widespread deforestation. On good days heating was supplied by a stove where we would sneakily position ourselves so as not to appear overly greedy or indeed environmentally reckless, whilst still retaining a close relationship with the source of warmth. On less good days we sat miserably around a metal container, extending our hands over the fading embers that remained after the evening’s cooking. These were brought to us by a smiling, rosy, round faced Tibetan girl, who carried the hot bowl of embers in her bare hands.

During these times, Sumil our leader maintained an up beat performance. Every evening he would appear unwashed but in some stylish trekking gear, capped with a multi coloured striped poncho and a Rastafarian hat and wig. Then as an accomplished raconteur he would enthral us all with stories of his escapades as a trekking leader in Tibet and the Chitwan Park where the Nepalese climate seemed unbelievably warm in contrast.

Later, we tried a sing song, until we ran out of inspiration, when tapping out rhythms on the metal pipes or spoons became a popular past time .At one tea house there was a tape recorder and we were naively astounded to hear the ‘ Birdie song’ . ‘How come’? We can see Everest! We are on the roof of the earth and we are listening to the Birdie song!

Longing for comfort, all we wanted to do was to go to bed. We looked at out watches. Is it bed time yet? It was 7 o’clock.

At around 8.30 the tea houses proprietors began to hint that it was time to settle for the night. Sherpas and waitresses unrolled their bed roles and settled down on the benches which lined the edge of the room in which we were sitting. Relieved we filled our drinking bottles with boiled water from a large can on a kerosene stove .These kept us warm in bed at night and contained our drinking water for the next day .

In the absence of running water cleaning teeth and washing were relegated to the morning when we would each be offered an inch of water in a metal bowl, drained from a green plastic bucket with a small tap. Then, whilst standing outside, we would lethargically wipe our faces and clean out teeth, rinsing and spitting in the street.

In the meantime, the reality of bedtime was disappointing. The beds were narrow planks of wood, covered by thin mattresses and a sleeping bag, often there was no electricity in the room, so we stumbled around in torch light. Then, there was the challenge of maintaining a modicum of hygiene without succumbing to extensive goose pimples. After much practice, this was achieved by taking a strategic approach to undressing. One leg uncovered, then the other, one arm then the other and a passing acquaintance with a wet wipe here and there. Insert bottom half of the body into the sleeping bag to keep warm then finish off top.

Finally, we shuffled ourselves into our 4 season sleeping bags, clutching our water bottles and sporting a rather fetching minor’s light which was strapped around our heads to provide a reading light.

We looked at each other. What are we doing here? We grinned , giggled nervously, and then laughed uncontrollably, our head lights shaking shivering shadows across the bare room. Unable to ignore us through the thin partition walls the whole house joined in.

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