Sunday, 13 April 2014 – Everest Base Camp, Nepal
Peter, a 61-year-old lawyer, arrives at breakfast this morning and sits down with a puzzled look on his face.
‘Has anyone else been experiencing strange dreams?’ he asks.
Many people have vivid dreams at high altitude when they are still acclimatising. There are various theories why this happens, but the most likely reason is broken sleep. You keep waking up, and dreams remain fresh in your mind.
There are a few nods around the table as we wait for Peter to continue.
‘I dreamt that I was driving along the freeway when a police officer pulled alongside and signalled for me to pull over. The cop came to the window and asked for my licence, and whether I’d been drinking. I looked up and saw Phil Crampton in a policeman’s uniform. “No need to take me to the station, officer,” I replied. “I’m guilty as hell.”’
‘Don’t tell me,’ Jay says. ‘Then a red light started flashing, and Phil began singing “YMCA”?’
Peter shakes his head. ‘Nothing like that. Or if there was, I woke up while Phil still had his clothes on.’
Our puja begins straight after breakfast. It’s a beautiful morning, and our Sherpas have erected a puja platform beneath a hillside of moraine. The setting is dramatic for a monk to chant prayers, looking across the glacier to Nuptse. The lama from Pangboche has one of our kitchen crew, Phu Dorje, as his assistant. We are told Phu Dorje once trained as a monk in an earlier life.
These ceremonies to appease the mountain gods before a climb can last for a long time. This morning the lama keeps it relatively short, and chants for perhaps an hour before asking our Sherpas to erect the prayer flags. They raise a flagpole above the puja platform and string rows of flags from the pole like bunting, extending to the four corners of camp.
Raising the prayer flags, with the West Shoulder behind
We stand up and throw rice into the air. We’re supposed to throw it three times, an auspicious number, but I lose count of the number of tosses and just keep following the lama.
Then we line up for a blessing, taking it in turns to kneel in front of him. He ties necklaces with mini books of prayers around our necks, which we are meant to keep on for the rest of the expedition, even when we sleep.
Then the ceremony is over and the lama moves on to his next appointment with another team. For our Sherpas this is a signal for the drinking to start. It’s not even ten o’clock, and a Tuborg beer is thrust into my hand.
Tarke lurks with a bottle of Khukri Rum, urging each of us to down shots, which he pours into the cap. We have to take them in threes because (guess what), three is an auspicious number. Pasang Nima hovers with a big kettle of chang and a clutch of tin mugs. This is a local rice beer that resembles milk, but is rather more potent. He is a small man, but immensely powerful on the mountain, and we call him the Pocket Rocket. This morning he reveals a different quality – an elfin ability to appear from nowhere as soon as my mug is empty, and refill it before I have time to protest. I spend much of the morning trying to hide behind a rock whenever I see him, but usually he spots me. A few times my chang ‘accidentally’ finds its way onto the ground, but I soon realise this is a futile manoeuvre. The Pocket Rocket is always quick to notice, and eventually I discover the only way to avoid his chang is to hold a cup full to the brim at all times.
In the middle of this mayhem Robert appears with his trekking friend Scott. They have just completed their trek into the Gokyo Valley and crossed the Cho La pass. They may have been expecting a low-key welcome when they reached Base Camp, but as soon as we realise they are here, we begin whooping and cheering.
Robert is a teetotaller and Scott is only here for the trek. Technically Scott isn’t required to appease the mountain gods by drinking, but he doesn’t know this. Ian convinces him that Robert needs a proxy to drink on his behalf or the gods will be angry. Scott is a good-natured character, and finds himself unable to refuse.
‘I can’t remember the last time I was drunk before noon,’ Peter says to me during a quiet moment.
When I was on the north side of Everest in 2012, our puja lasted all day, but this time it fizzles out at lunchtime. In the afternoon I retire to my tent for some sleep, but the Sherpas continue their celebrations.
Later in the afternoon Phil is summoned to resolve a dispute. They are due to do a load carry into the Khumbu Icefall tomorrow. One of them, Ang Gelu, refuses to join in because Margaret has hired him as her personal Sherpa. He believes this should exempt him from carrying some of the group equipment.
But there are several personal Sherpas on the team this year. Among the Lhotse climbers, Margaret is the only one who has hired a personal Sherpa. Ang Gelu will climb with her at all times, but the rest of us will only climb with a Sherpa on summit day. Most of the time we will be climbing on our own.
The Everest team have paid for a different level of service. They have all been assigned a personal Sherpa, and will even have a second Sherpa climbing with them on summit day too.
Cynics will say they need a second Sherpa to carry them up, but this is disingenuous. Nobody gets carried up Everest, and statements like this betray a lack of understanding. Whatever the level of support, you’ve got to get up on your own two feet. It’s safer for Sherpas to climb two to a client. If anything should go wrong in that extreme environment, there are more resources to call upon. Of course, it also helps the Sherpa community, as it means more jobs for them.
But in truth I believe this is more than any competent climber needs. Two personal Sherpas on summit day is a new thing. It is one of the many ‘luxuries’ pushing the price of Everest expeditions up to unaffordable levels.
Ang Gelu’s stance is not popular with the other Sherpas who have been assigned to members of the Everest team. They will be doing their share of load carrying too. Phil takes their side and threatens to fine Ang Gelu unless he toes the line.
This upsets Margaret. She believes Ang Gelu should be treated as a special case because she is paying extra for him. If she paid extra, why should we be making use of him when we did not pay?
I can see her point as far as the other Lhotse climbers are concerned. We have paid a mere $20,000 to be here, but the Everest climbers have paid a whopping $45,000 – far more than any of us, Margaret included.
But there are other considerations too. It’s fine for some people to pay more for a better level of service, as long as it doesn’t affect the service of those who have paid less. If Ang Gelu has angered the other Sherpas, who perceive him to be getting away with doing less work, then they in turn may wonder why they work so hard.
I may not have paid as much as the others, but I have still paid an awful lot of money. I want to climb with a happy Chongba on summit day, not an aggrieved Chongba.
Ultimately, we are a team. Some people can dig deeper into their pockets, and they expect more from the team because they paid more money for their expedition. But the well-being of the team as a whole matters more; this should take priority and shape decisions.
But of course, I don’t have to carry a huge load up the mountain like Ang Gelu, so I guess I would say that.
We have to trust Phil and Dorje to make decisions about Sherpa dynamics. One of the reasons we climb with Altitude Junkies is because they have a great Sherpa crew.
I am sorry to hear Ang Gelu has been the cause of tension, because I like him. I had a good chat with him at the puja. Two years ago he helped my friend Mark Dickson, who is prone to frostbite, to reach the summit of Everest. Ang Gelu clipped and unclipped Mark from every anchor so that he didn’t have to remove his gloves. When I was struggling to climb a difficult section of the Second Step, it was Ang Gelu who climbed above me and proffered a hand to help me up. So I too have him to thank for my summit success. It’s something I won’t forget.