All preparation is done, payments made, and I am off to Langtang tomorrow me. This afternoon I met my porter, a man in his fifties I think. He seemed very pleasant though not talkative. I hope he will take a good bit of my burden as I am not thrilled with the weight of my bag.
I also met the sherpa husband of the woman arranging the trip. A very sweet man.
My first trip to the office was actually a failure as I arrived in the area and realised that I didn’t remember where the office was. I asked a bored looking teenager manning a paint shop and he looked at me eagerly and asked if I was Indian. I said no, Pakistani, and he jumped in delight and started speaking to me in Urdu. I only then noticed the photos of Medina over his desk. Anyhow he was very helpful indeed and asked a couple of people if they knew where the office was and looked it up on Google maps. He directed me to the wrong place and then, five minutes later, came running after me to help me search. He was quite useless, but really sweet and anxious to help and when we finally found the place insisted on going inside first to confirm that it was safe. He was also clearly impressed that I was wandering Kathmandu by myself which was gratifying, I suppose. Only the first of two ego strokes of the day.
I also bought a couple of thangkas for a relative. I think I overpaid for them but there it is. I am, at the end of the day, a foreigner and though personally rather poor at the moment, generally better off than many.
The second ego stroke was when I rang my father to tell him I was off and he warned me not to go too high. I said, truthfully, that do I look like I can go high? At which he grumbled no, but you’re crazy enough to try. Very gratifying if I am becoming a daring eccentric as I leave my thirties, albeit only by the standards of Pakistani womankind.
See you on the other side.