A Passing Friend

As I first approached the fields that lay in front of Rumbok, I could see a man photographing the mountains. He waved as I stood speaking to two of the women who were spinning wool, resting against field’s stonewall. Utterly exhausted, I had just walked seven hours from SECMOL. 4pm and the sun still gleamed high in the sky. I was ready to just sit myself down near a toasty oven and drink warm milk tea while finishing my book. Rumbok has become my haven for peace and serenity when I get a few days off. I had three free days ahead of me and I would use them wisely as this would be my last personal vacation here in Ladakh.

The man with the camera greeted me with a friendly smile, a handshake and “’hello!” He looked like he could be from some part of Asia but definitely not Ladakh as his 6 feet in height gave that away. He spoke with the most beautiful English accent- it could have been Hugh Grant speaking to me. Without delay he asked me if I would like to join him in crossing the Stoke pass (the pass I had been hoping to cross the past two times coming here). I couldn’t believe it was actually possible to pass as I had stopped at a tourist agency in Leh and learned it would not be possible until mid-May. The pass is supposed to be one of the most breathtaking views in all of Ladakh at 4,900 meters. I was thrilled at the invitation and changed my original plan that consisted of cooking, eating and resting in Rumbok. He seemed relieved and joyful to have a companion for the trek. He then asked if I wanted to join him in his homestay. His name was Richard and it was only his second day in Ladakh. I couldn’t believe how he was doing this on his second day- we didn’t even allow our students to hike up the small SECMOL mountain until we had spent three weeks acclimatizing. Our ama-le gave us delicious yak cheese, tagi bread and warm milk tea while we chatted as I mowed down on the snack. He seemed like a real nice guy traveling around Northern India for his one month holiday off from work. I was too tired to offer to help ama-le make dinner so I relaxed and chatted with this English guy until we were served a fine meal of chu-tagi. I could tell ama-le was getting tired waiting for us to go off to bed so we left to continue our conversation in our room.

The next morning we awoke early because neither of us had a legitimate map or really knew where we were going. I figured there had to be signs of some sort for us to follow. At 8am, after ama-le directed us at one of the multiple peaks ahead of us, we headed out for our journey and found no signs at all. The mountains looked so dangerous and exciting. After walking up the step fields, we hiked along a kind of muddy glacier that provided evidence of backpackers from their boot prints. We climbed and the village of Rumbok began to appear far off in the distance below and suddenly the jagged pinnacles seen earlier were directly along side of us. The only wildlife we witnessed was a few birds and a soaring eagle. It was cold. Richard was wearing sneakers, a backpack with no waist belt and two plastic water bottles following me unknowingly up the most dangerous and scary cliff I have climbed in my life. And again, this was only his second day here. We came to a very steep and vertical part where the only way to ascend was to take a risk climbing up incredibly unsteady stair-like rocks of slate. I kept on wondering if we were going the right way because there were so many different peaks that could be climbed. I even thought about turning back since he had to be on a plane early the next morning. I just ended up hoping for the best because all things seem to work our just dandy here in Ladakh. We knew if we made it to the nearest peak- Stok village HAD to be somewhere on the other side. All around different shades of deep reds and browns painted the mountains. Both of us feeling fine talked about books, the mountains and past adventures in life and suddenly I realized it was kind of a blessing in disguise that I had randomly met this pasting stranger, otherwise I wouldn’t be having a few good laughs dangerously climbing up these unforgivable cliffs surrounded by the most beautiful scenery imaginable. Two years ago, he traveled the world with an around the world plane ticket so I had fun with that, hearing about his ascent up Kilimanjaro, swimming with sharks off the coast of Cape town and getting stuck in a monsoon in Lowe. I found it quite difficult to picture this guy working in an office setting.

“Look here!” I cried happily “Tibetan prayer flags-we made it!” When we reached the top the view that met our eyes did so with grace and magnificence. My god, I couldn’t believe this wasn’t the top of the mountain – with many higher peaks along the ridge. There was so much open sky and snow covering the above peaks. The prayer flags welcomed us warmly. The clouds above were dispersed among the mountaintops and when they made room for the sun, they did so flawlessly allowing the sun’s rays to warm our frozen fingers. We quickly snapped some photos of each other and our surroundings. I had to have him zip up my jacket because my frozen fingers wouldn’t work together. I was very impressed with his spontaneity in doing this when he had to be on a plane flying over these mountains the next day. I felt like lying down at the top and just remembering it all but the roaring winds were about to do some serious damage to my bare exposed limbs. The peaks here all look so familiar and create this sense of immorality. On the way down we stopped occasionally to slug some water and then decided to eat ama-le’s bread and cheese she had packed for us. “Let’s sit down for a while and enjoy it,” Richard said. When I sat, I felt like falling asleep and dreaming. Our talk was natural and got more casual and funny as our hike went on. It suddenly became brighter and warmer and found we were walking in the middle of a waterless river bottom. We came across horses grazing far up on the mountainside. Finally after seven and a half hours we came to the village of Stoke, where I would stay for two nights. I walked him to the bus, drank some warm tea and said goodbye to this passing friend.

I had a good time with Richard. It’s funny how you can know someone for a years and never really have a good time or get to know them and then randomly meet someone, spend less than 24 hours together and be truly sad to see that person leave your life. I guess that’s what makes life so interesting. Who knows if they are forever gone – you can always hope that your paths will cross one day. But to actually develop a connection with another being in what can be considered a split second in the grand scheme of things is an amazing experience and I feel lucky to have had that.

I felt dirty, suntanned and wild looking – ready to hit the sack at whatever house would invite me in. I found a homestay for 150 Rps and took my ipod to listen to some music as I watched the sun fall behind the mountains we had just crossed. The sun had begun to sink now behind the mountains, lower and lower, letting its last few minutes of light kiss my face. I felt happy, content - like I’ve really been living here and for the first time, I felt myself growing. The stillness of the air weakened my back so I lay down and drifted off into a dream like nirvana state and listened to Ryan Adam’s cover of Wonderwall. A perfect song to end the most person day.