I wasn't sure about I would write in this blog; that was until I was telling the following story at a workshop I attended this week. We were sitting around a table discussing how travel can literally change lives. One of the group, a young man who had never travelled stated that he had always wanted to trek the Himlayas. When he found out that I had trekked Nepal, especially the Himalayan region he asked me to talk about it.
Rather than talk about the Himalayas themselves which I told him was impossible to describe because of the size and scale of the mountains. I suggested that I would talk about one episode during my trip that showed the beauty of travel. For me travel has changed my life and I believe it changes everybody who travels. For the most part these changes have not occurred because of the wonderful sights I have seen but the people and the experiences I have had.
The first part of that day’s journey was all downhill. It was like God put thousands of steps in the side of the mountain. We started the day at eleven thousand feet and would finish it much closer to sea level. It wasn’t a day for enjoying the view, as a false step would see us falling thousands of feet to our death. We’d all heard about the stones that were piled up in recognition of Trekkers who had died along the way. By the end of the trip, we would all realise how many Trekkers had died in the Himalayas; it took just one false step.
After four hours of walking, all downhill, we stopped for a well earned lunch. The bread and peanut butter were eaten with great hunger after the exhausting morning's walk. The Sirdar spoke to the group during the lunch about yaks, expounding on how they were one of the main dangers in the Himalayas and how many Trekkers had been pushed off the mountains by them. The key, he said, was to always take the high side of the mountain when the yak comes towards you. The difficulty was that they were stubborn animals, and if they sense any fear on the Trekkers’ part, they’ll push them out of the way. Some have even gored Trekkers.
I could see that Isaac was getting nervous. He had told me that he was scared of animals, especially dogs and cattle, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the yaks. As we walked through day, we came across a herd of yaks, and Isaac immediately tried to walk around them. The yak herder came towards me and held out the whip in his hand. "He wants you to herd his yaks, "said a local, who was walking with the group this morning. I took the whip, which brought a grin to the yak herder's face. I didn’t have a clue what to do, so I looked to the herder for advice. His only reply was a motion to flick the whip and wave his hands.
One of my fellow Aussie Trekkers, came over to join me. "Why don't you use the trick you showed us last night and imagine you’re the yak or the herder? Then you’ll know what to do." I knew that he was half-joking and half-serious, but why not? I used the technique to understand people's intent or feelings, so why not a yak? I took what I imagined to be two molecules of my feeling self and put one into the herder and one into the lead yak. I quieted his mind and opened up to any impressions that were returned. My first impression came from the lead yak, and I soon learned the yak had been with the herder since he was a calf and had become the family pet. He was always looking to the herder for what to do, and whatever he did, the others normally followed.
When the molecule of the feeling arrived from the herder, it brought with it a great sense of calm. The yaks were his pets. He may have looked like a gruff old man, but he loved his animals. They responded more to the soothing sound of his voice than the whip or the waving of his hands, and the old man knew that; the whip and the waving arms were more a show for the others. I couldn’t understand what words the old man used, but I could hear the tones he used when he wanted them to do something. I walked close to him to show the yaks that the old man and I were friends. Then, while walking with him I started to speak using the tones I’d heard the old man use. The yaks didn’t respond at first; they were confused. Soon, though, the yaks responded to the soothing tones that I was using. I was soon guiding the animals with only the sound of my voice.
Although I may have appeared confident, I was more surprised than anyone. I continued walking with the animals and the old man. When we walked down a narrow path, the old man and I immediately took the high ground, and the animals took the lower ground. The old herder must have impressed with and he gave me a pat on the back. I walked with the yaks for most of day after which the old man took back the whip, a whip he rarely used, then gave me a hug and continued on the journey with his yaks. This was the one thing that I enjoy most when I travel: the ability to be open to new experiences. It was the reason I met most of my teachers, and it was the reason I could see each day as a new day and always be open to what life had in store for me. It is always harder to have these experiences when I am was back in the so-called “normal life”, but maybe it was because I was not as open in the normal world.
I could see that Isaac was a little down, so I went over to join him, taking a hot drink and sitting down beside him. Neither of us spoke for a long time, then Isaac opened up. "I was scared when you started to walk with the yaks. I started to get all hot and sweaty, and I could feel myself go into a panic. How could you just take the whip and start herding his yaks?"
"Not sure, really. It just seemed like something I’d never have the opportunity to do again."
"I could never have done that. I would have been scared that they’d gore me or push me off the mountain. I don't like to do anything when I’m out of control."
"Isaac, I said, "this whole trip is about being out of control. We’re in a third world country, trekking through some of the most dangerous territory in the world. Each day, we come across areas where Trekkers have died. The food, the water, or the altitude could make you sick. I don't quite understand how you can do a trek like this and still feel like you’re in control.”
Isaac replied, "Before coming on this trip, I researched who were the safest companies, the food they served, and their record of keeping people safe. This group was the best and safest, and that’s why I booked with them."
For the next six days, each day of the journey was like the one before: early breakfast of porridge, toast, and peanut butter, washed down with a hot cocoa, followed by a four-hour walk in some of the most beautiful country in the world. Stop for lunch, then four more hours of walking before setting up camp, having dinner, then sitting around the campfire under the stars, drinking rum punch. Of course, the rum punch was now a treat, rather than something that was over-consumed. We didn’t need another reason for a headache; the altitude was starting to have an effect on most of us. It was only minor, but it needed watching.
It was on about the tenth day that things began to change - especially for Isaac. I woke at about 7:00am, and as usual, Isaac was already awake and outside the tent. I put on my gear, and walked out of the tent. Surrounding the tent was a herd of yaks. My first thought was, Where the hell was Isaac? I scoured the campsite; Isaac was nowhere to be seen. Then I saw him cowering in the distance behind one of the tents. Before I could get to him, Isaac had made a run for it, only to be chased by one of the yaks. He tried in vain to get away, and in the end he turned towards the yak and screamed at it. This only stirred the animal up even more, and it ran at him, goring him in the stomach. He fell to the ground, and the yak continued to stand over him, excited by his anxiety and the blood oozing through Isaac's T-shirt.
I moved quickly and stood between Isaac and the animal. One of the other trekkers rushed with her medical kit to the aid of the cowering Isaac. She didn’t give any thought to the animal attacking her – and of course, it didn't. I tried calming the animal down using the same voice I had used with the other yaks, but it wasn’t working. The animal had all its concentration on Isaac. It was fixated and couldn’t see that Isaac was no longer a threat. By this time, all the camp was awake and out of their tents. The yak herder had rounded up all the other animals to ensure that they wouldn’t get out of control, but this one couldn’t hear anything. The herder called out to it, but it didn’t move. It stayed fixated, pawing the ground with its hoof. I knew he had to do something and do it quickly because the animal was getting itself ready to attack. I had no idea what to do. The words didn't work. The feeling tones didn't work. I had to get the yak away from Isaac. I remembered the trick that Crocodile Dundee had used in the movie by the same name. I was certainly grabbing at straws. Then, in a flash of genius I punched it in the head, directly between the horns. Confused, the beast tried to shake off the hit. It had lost focus on Isaac, and now its concentration was all on me, I turned calmly and started talking to the animal in the tone of voice of the yak herder and walked it towards the herder and his herd of yaks. The animal now seemed calmer and was happy to follow me back to the herd. The herder took control of the animal, shrugged his shoulders and led the herd away from the camp.
With the commotion of the morning and Isaac's injury, very little ground was covered during the day. After dinner, everyone sat around the campfire with the obligatory cup of rum punch. That even included Isaac, who until this evening had always gone to bed after dinner to get enough rest for the next day’s trek. There were smiles all around when Isaac took his first sip of the nasty concoction. The further we went on their journey, the more the quality of the local bought rum deteriorated - and with it, the quality of the fruits we used in the punch. To be honest, it was bloody horrible. But tonight was a special occasion; it was winter solstice, and it was good that we all came to join in the celebration. The look on Isaac's face was priceless. Everybody laughed; it was good to have him as part of the group after the day's challenges.
Everyone wanted to know how Isaac was feeling, He replied, "The day has been tough, and I’m still a little sore, but I learned a great lesson. Upon reflection, I realized I wasn’t unluckier than anyone else. I focus on the wrong things; rather than focus on the fear, I’d be better focusing on the experience. In the past, my fears have brought exactly what I feared, and today was the prime example. From this moment on, with your help I would like to be more open to the experiences in life. Forty years of living in fear is long enough. Today is the first day of my new life."
We all gave him a cheer and for the rest of the trek Isaac was not the shy introvert who began the journey in Kathmandu.
The beauty of travel is that it forces most of us to live outside our comfort zone; the place where all change can occur.
Blessings and Peace - may travel on any level lead you to a deeper part of yourself
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