to you when you visit a holy place—to your body and your mind. It leaves an imprint. Not only a karmic one, but a physical one too. I feel it the moment my eyes open. A lightness in my body and mind, an agility in my limbs that I’ve never had before—and it’s not only the good night of sleep that’s brought it on.
While most pilgrims stayed to spend the night at the lake, we went back to the comfort of the inn.
“There’ll be plenty of nights without a roof ahead,” Dendup said, when I asked him why. “Too many nights under the open sky is a punishment on the body.”
And while I would have loved to have spent more time at the lake, I’m grateful now—the warmth of the hearth this early morning is a pleasant welcome.
My companions are already up as I wake between two empty mats. With my body as light as a feather, I hasten to make three prostrations. As I fold my hands in prayer, I notice the deep pink streaks on the palm of my hands. The nasty lesions that festered a few days back have closed. The skin’s already reforming her familiar lined pattern. Even the burning sensation is gone. I stretch out my hand and trace the ruddy lines with my finger, inspecting them closer. How amazing this human body. How it heals and adapts to its new circumstances.
I crouch to fold my blanket. The stiffness that used to settle in my limbs after a day’s ride is gone. “You’ll get used to the saddle soon enough,” Sangmo told me. But to be honest, it took my body a long time to adjust to the riding. I’ve had aches and pains ever since I left the monastery many moons ago. My heart skips a beat at the thought of my home on the remote mountaintop. My body’s reached the point where it’s suited to serve my new life as a lay person now. I’m praying, however, that my mind won’t mirror the usual laxity of a layperson’s mind. My highest intentions are still the same—to serve all sentient beings the best I can in this lifetime.
The earthy aroma of freshly brewed tea draws me to the kitchen like honey to a bee. It’s packed, and I can’t see my companions, but that’s fine. By now, I know how these kitchens work. The trick is to sit as close to the stove as possible, so you can catch the servants’ eye as they go around in full flight. It works, and in no time, I’ve got a cup filled to the brim and a slab of buttered bread in front of me.
As the salty spread melts on my tongue, my stomach grumbles. I didn’t notice how hungry I was. It must be from all the walking yesterday. I blow the fatty foam to the side of my cup and let my thoughts drift to Yilhun Lha Tso. As the warm brew rinses the brine off my palate, my whole being is filled with the comforting blend of wholesome fare and intense contentment. A good kora it was.
“Sister!” A small voice calls out from the doorway.
It’s the little girl who came with us last night. Her parents stayed at the lake, but this cheeky one begged Dendup and Karma to take her and her brother for a ride on the horses. Of course the men couldn’t say no, the softies. “Sister, they’re waiting for you.” Her tiny hands above her head beckon me to come.
I wash the last piece of bread down with my tea and follow the patter of her footsteps into the hallway. She’s already disappeared as I step out.
The courtyard’s as crowded as the kitchen, with the muleteers securing their loads. It’s into the Cho La mountain range from here on, with the crossing of the highest peak expected in a day or two. My feet on the threshold, I peer through the mist that covers the mass of bags, packs, mules, and men. The huff of my stallion comes from the other side of the courtyard. There it is, all saddled up and ready to go. Next to my horse stand Karma and Dendup, their backs to me.
I stroll their way, my hood turned up to ward off the morning chill. As I reach within ear distance, my feet somehow stall. Their heads bent together, their gestures intense, Karma and Dendup appear to be in a heated discussion. There’s a third person with them. Karma’s tall statue is obstructing my view. The dim morning light isn’t helping either, but my eyes spot a pair of man’s boots—foreign boots—shuffling up dust opposite my two companions. Their jerky behavior alerts my mind. I slide my hood back a little and perk my ears.
The veil of dawn muffles their words, but as soon as the stranger’s accent hits my ear, my stomach tightens. The man’s voice carries a snaking, gnawing edge. I yank the hood back over my head and pull it tight. My jagged fingernails hook the black furred rim. Every muscle in my body tenses. I don’t know what’s being said, but I know it’s not good—and I’m sure I’m not supposed to hear this.
What to do? I shiver, my feet frozen to the ground, my knees weak. With my mind on full speed, I shift back in the shadows, making sure I stay out of the men’s sight.
“Found you!” A girl’s voice echoes with a cheerful yell, and two tiny hands latch on to my leg. I stumble, but pull off a smile. It’s little sister again, saving me from a most tricky position, even though she doesn’t realize it.
“You sure did,” I say. With a deep breath out, I kneel at her side and put my trembling fingertips on her shoulders. From the corners of my eyes, I see Karma and Dendup, their attention turned to me and little sister now.
There’s another thing I spot too—the stranger’s boots rushing out of view, the gleaming buckles disappearing into the crowd.
“You’re here.” Dendup scratches his head. His eyes dart from me over the crowded courtyard and back. “Been waiting long?” A halting smile cracks through the veneer of his pinched lips.
“Nope.” I try my most casual tone. “Just here.” I meet his avoiding eyes from under my drawn hood. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.” My heart’s pounding. A slight heat rises in my cheeks. Do they know?
“That’s fine,” Karma says. “We’re just getting ready ourselves.”
The casual tone of his voice should reassure me, but as I lift my chin towards him, the long, leery look in his narrowed eyes says it all. He knows. He knows I saw them arguing with the stranger.
His stony stare sucks the air out of the awkward silence between us. I clench my fists, expecting a lashing of words which is undoubtably going to follow from him, but to no avail. The only thing coming from his lips is a quiet, mellow smile.
I flinch. Did I misread Karma? Then he bends towards me, enough for the first rays of dawn to thaw his icy stare into a tender forest green. He knows alright.
My heart skips a beat as he smoothens the creased rim of my hood, caressing my flushed cheeks ever so lightly with his fingertips. He knows, and he doesn’t mind—he trusts me. A warm glow spreads across my chest. He trusts me with the implicit understanding not to mention what I witnessed. Not to Dendup, and not to him.
My shoulders sag, my fists unfold. All I want to do now is slide my hands over his and hold them against my face. But I don’t, of course, and I wrestle myself out of his captivating glance.
Sharp sand crunches underneath as I spin my heels.
“Let’s go then.” I untie my horse with a nonchalance that strengthens my airy tone, but my insides cringe. Why am I still so awkward towards him?
My hands clasp the manes of my stallion. He gives me a quick leg-up. I cast my eyes down. What a silly girl he must think me to be. My mind feverish, I surrender. I’m trying hard, but I just don’t know how to handle all of him. I’m treading unknown territory here while he’s got the advantage of a seasoned traveler.
“No need to hurry, love.” His voice is barely audible, and his hand rests on my calf. “It’s still a long way to Lhasa.” With a loving but oh-so-cheeky smile, he slides his hand down, and I can’t help but laugh at him, but mostly at myself.
The sky opens to a purple blue. The caravan moves out of the sheltered town onto the open planes. And while the milky rays of morning light dispel the shadows of the frosty night, they don’t resolve the fragments of the harsh foreigner’s gnaw lingering in the back of my mind. Who was that stranger, and why did Karma and Dendup not want me to see them with him?
I fold back my hood and raise my face to the surging sun. My fingers slide the jade beads around, invoking the support of the mother of all Buddhas. Om Tara. I mean, I know I’m in good company with them, but an extra helping hand won’t hurt, will it? Om Tara. Especially when she’s a force above nature.
It turns out to be another day of pleasant riding for us. The rustle of tall grass in the warm breeze, the rich, balmy smell of earth churned up by the horses’ hoofs, the lush valley leading us up to the mountain range is invigorating to body and mind. Spending the night under the open sky turns out to be so much more comfortable—and calmer—than I feared. As there’s no inn in sight, the caravan spreads itself out in the hardy grass at the foot of the Cho La. Mules and men scatter around the small bonfires ignited to mark our ground against the prowling predators.
Finding the comfort of company, provisions go around, and tales of wonder and amazement drown the crackling glow of the flames. With a slice of moon and a thousand stars against the vast blue sky and my thin mat secured between Dendup and Karma, deep sleep immerses me as soon as I crawl under my blanket.
Only the wind scratching through the tops of the frozen grass gives away the coldness of the night. With my blanket tightly wrapped, I sleep through the frost and Dendup’s usual loud snoring. I must have been in deep sleep, for it’s only when little sister puts her icy hands on my cheeks and giggles in my ear that I awake.
The pungent scent of wood smoldering and charred pine needles hits my nose. I sit up. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I notice the empty places beside me. Where are my companions? A quick glance around and I spot our horses, already packed, and there’s Karma and Dendup, taking their time with their tea. While the world’s already in full swing under the pasty morning sun, I’ve slept right through the buzz of the rising caravan. I hop out of my blanket and clear my mat.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I say. With flushed cheeks, I tie my gear together. I’ve been sleeping while they were working—not good.
“Ah, figured you needed it.” Dendup winks over the rim of his cup, his voice a mix of comfort and cheer. With a sigh, I sit next to him.
“Thanks,” I say, as Karma hands me a cup of tea. “I did.”
Slowly I wake up, sharing the tea and a crust of bread with little sister glued to my feet.
“Weather looks good enough.” Karma’s eyes are on the stately Cho La, her chiseled peaks like sharp teeth biting into the pink caked sky.
Dendup nods. “It’s a long trek.” He swigs the last of his tea down. “And you, little one.” He pinches little sister in her scrawny leg. “You better stay close to your ama and apa today or Mi la tse tse will take you away.” His voice low, he peers at the girl from under his furred eyebrows.
“You know he lives up there, and he loves to play.” Dendup points at the Cho La and Little sister’s eyes widen. Her small hands grip tight around my ankles. “Listen to your ama or apa now, or you will never see them again.” His voice takes on an even more gloomy tone to emphasize the gravity of the matter.
Mi la tse tse. I laugh at the sight of Dendup’s quasi-frightening face. He’s trying to scare little sister, and it works. All children are afraid of Mi la tse tse, the hairy monster that lives in the mountains. He loves to play with children and lures them with sweet treats away from their parents, never to be seen again. How many times did my father try this trick on me? It worked too—it’s a great tale to keep unruly children in line.
“Mi la tse tse is up there?” Her hands squeeze my ankles even tighter. As little sister’s eyes meet mine, the fear in her eyes melts my heart.
“He sure is.” I put my arms around her shaky shoulders. “But you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” I glance at Dendup and grimace. He shouldn’t scare her like this. “You stay with your ama and apa and everything will be fine.” Her woolen cap slides to the side as she nods. “Good, so go now. We’ll see you tonight.” And off she is to her parents, no doubt running as fast as her sticky legs can carry her.
With Dendup stamping out the fire, I’m checking my horse and gear again, securing it extra tight for today’s trip.
“Nordun.” Karma’s voice comes from behind, and his hands slide around my waist. Before I get the chance to turn around, his strong arms lift me into the saddle. I gasp as my hands clutch the manes of my horse.
“A warning would have been nice.” I straighten in the saddle. “But thanks.”
My hand slides over his, resting on my thigh. A tingle shoots up my arm, straight through my body, and creates flutters in my stomach. My mind’s all over the place—oh, how he knows to throw me off balance.
“Stay close today.” His voice is low, and his fingers interlace with mine. “Keep between Dendup and me.” I nod.
“I mean it, Nordun.” His jaw sets as he lifts his chin to affirm the gravity of his request with a stern look.
“I will.” Our fingers still intertwined, his thumb strokes my thigh and I sense his hesitation to let go. “I promise.” I mean it. The weight in his tone leaves no suggestion for banter.
“Good.” He drops his hand. “That’s settled then.”
My eyes dart over to Dendup. The pack horses are tied, and he’s ready to join the caravan, steadily setting itself in motion.
“Let’s ride in the front line.” Dendup gestures to Karma. In one fluid motion, their horses line up with mine, spurring us all on in a full trot.
It doesn’t take long before we’re out of the valley, onto the slopes of the mighty Cho La. The lush green fades into parched gray under the warming sun. Our horses’ hoofs scrape the barren rocks as the narrow path winds up towards the ridge. We’re riding at a walking pace. In a single row, our caravan steadily climbs, like a sleek serpent determined on the prowl.
As the vastness of the sky comes closer, an eerie silence prevails. There’s no more chatter of birds, only the sharp scratching of the wind against the rising bedrocks and the quiet hum of prayer.
The sun’s gaining strength quickly at this height, pounding merciless at our head by noon. Her rays reflect on the scattered ice crusts. I draw my hood further over my eyes. Shifting in my saddle, I feel my body’s strength draining away with the little trickles of sweat that make their way down my back. The heat and height weigh heavy on my shoulders. The lightness I experienced since Yilhun Lha Tso is erased with a single sun.
My stallion, however, prances as vigorous as ever. He despises his position, squished in single file, and huffs all the way, holding his head high. Alarmed by the clumsy scrambling of my horse’s hoofs, Karma turns to check on me.
“He’ll back down once we reach the snowline.” Karma squints against the blaring sun. A glimpse of unease come through. “If not, we’ll switch horses.”
I loosen the reins once more. I’m sure I can handle my own, but he’s right. No need to take risks on the steep mountain slopes. I shift back in my saddle to relax into the steady pace once more. Om Tare.
In the corners of my eyes, an orange frame simmers in the sun. Bluish gray wings slice through the breeze. A lone vulture circles the bright blue yonder. My gaze focuses on the path before us. Father’s words of warning ring in my ear. “It’s a dangerous place out there, Nordun, for many left but never returned.” His hands had pressed on my shoulders. “The mountains are unforgiving, turning complete caravans into valleys of bones, all along the route.”
A chill runs up my sweat drenched spine. Still, here I am. Father has faith in me and in my companions. Om Tare.
As the scattered snow crusts turn into an icy trail, we dismount and lead our horses by foot. Dendup’s unleashed the pack horses by now, for if one falls, all fall. It’s not that they can wander off, anyway. The trail’s narrow, a path carved into the side of the rocks leading straight up to the solid vertical cliffs.
My stallion’s strut has turned into a shamble. He’s never walked on ice before. I chuckle as he presses his nose into the back of my coat. Relentless as ever, he’s still determined to take the lead.
By midday, a surging gust swirls a few long-hanging clouds around the peaks. I drop my hood and turn my face to the shrouded sun. The arid breeze catches a few of my sticky locks on the side of my temples—finally some relief. My nostrils tingle as the crisp air clears my head and for a moment, I feel lifted again.
“Sister.” Dendup’s voice urges a warning call. “Buckle up.” My gaze follows his hand, pointing to the highest peak. “Something’s coming, real soon.” My eyes dart over, my body tenses at the sight.
A gray mist has settled around the peak, and it’s cascading down right before my eyes. My hands tighten the reins as the breeze becomes a shrieking wind, twisting its way towards our convoy. Hail. Or snow? I fasten my belt as a sudden bitter cold finds its way through the folds of my coat.
My hood pulled, I settle my gaze on Karma’s stallion before me, my breath in sync with the silent stride of his hoofs. The first flakes of dusty white float down like feathers shaken out of a bird’s nest, hooking themselves on the fur trim of my coat. It doesn’t take long before the soft crystals harden into solid slivers of ice and the veiled sky above us rips open. A cloudburst of hail comes thundering down, cutting off my breath and my steps.
“Keep moving!” Dendup’s command echoes from behind.
I gasp and stumble forward to regain my pace. My heart’s pounding. I scold myself. Silly me, it’s only hail. I draw closer to my stallion, the wisps of steam rise from his widened nostrils balmy against my hand. His head bend now, icicles are sticking to his unruly manes. Sensing the imminent pour down, it seems he’s calmed down. His twitching ears give it away though—he’s very much on edge. I squeeze my fists.
“We’re good, you and me.” A wishful whisper while I stroke his soggy nose, a solace directed at him, but intended to uplift my own spirits. It helps if only a little.
Ice above us, ice below us, my horse and I scramble on.