My Nepal Diary - IX
11.56 NST
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The
Gufa (cave) in which the monk’s Stupa is built and also promises to cure our
bad dreams proved to be just a myth.
Within
seconds before the 2nd quack we ran to our home stay to check our friend who
was taking rest, (suffering from trekking) found her struggling on the floor of
the wooden staircase, debris falling, we can see the home-stay swinging... our
Nepali friends (guides and the porters) run inside drag her out... I see her
breathless.... in a small town with no medical felicities -- asking for a
doctor is a luxury demand.
Mustang
Marathon happening - every runner reaching Lo - I see their camp I run to ask
for help but unfortunate the doctor of that camp is also on his way (running
with the participants)
We
see few landslides all over from the village into the valley. Within seconds all
phone lines gets dead. People all in the street clueless.
A
sudden relief -- our home stay owner turns out to be the local doctor - he
brings an oxygen cylinder --- advices us to take our friend to a lower altitude
-which means we go towards the epic center.... The 2nd earth quack happens...
but no choice have to go down, as the oxygen will finish in 3 hours.
Rushing
inside the home stay to bring our stuff—is it safe? – Huge question if there is another
earthquake and we get stuck…leaving our bags and going-a bad idea…
Frankly
half of my heart wanted to just continue our journey, see the Pala style
painted monastery properly and other half of my heart was tensed for my friend…
After
that 40 hours what I just remember is on the road – bad roads – bad jeeps –
landslides – between walking, changing jeeps and bus we had to reach Jomsom and
then to Pokhara and Kathmandu. Bus filled with people who want to reach their families
(effected villages), we are surrounded with dog, goat, sick patient, anxious
people, angry people – broken seats, or with no back rest… bus moving like a
mad animal bitten by some wild cat.
Snowing
in the mountain, rains making the road messy, people sleeping on the fields and
runways in this cold with no shelter… and fear…. nobody sleeping at night … the
worst news coming-- our guide lost his father – his other family members… the
rush to get to his village became the target.
With
this entire journey -- today I only remember – the doctor in Lo dint charge us
for the oxygen, the pony rider who helped my friend to cross the landslides or
the places where we had to walk dint charge anything. The guide who lost his family,
still made sure we reach Pokhara safe and then he left for his
village….
