To the Himalayas!

(just a reminder: these posts are copies of entries from my paper journal, written Summer 2006)

Wake up early to do some Yoga breathing exercises, while we pirch on large rocks in the field around our teacher. Breakfast at to 7 and we pile into the jeeps, ready for a short trip to Pangong Lake – the closest I’ll get to Tibet on this journey. Tonnes of animals in the valleys as we pass. A himalayan marmot, many donkies, horses, goats, and one hare (brown with white ears) look a bit insignificant against the tall mountain backdrop.

I understand why SUVs were invented, and thank their makers as we crawl over rocks and plow through streams that have washed the roads away. It’s not smooth, but the fact that we even get through is pleasing enough for me.

At the lake, as beautiful as the photos I’ve seen. Breathtaking to know I could just dip my toe in, and I’ll have touched Tibet. So many of our patients, with their warm smiles and hearty laughs, have come from that land at some point. Their presence shapes the Ladakhi culture and makes the province a whole different experience than the rest of India; it’s horrible to think that they aren’t in India by choice.

We walk closer to the lake and there is talk of going into the water. I’m shivering with many fleecy layers, mittens, and my trusty toque, but a few brave souls put caution to the roaring wind and hop in. Other, slower participants take their time changing their clothing to swimsuits behind the shelter of a 3-foot metal shield. This is much to the amusement of nearby soldiers who recognize the metal barrier as their urinal.

Epic feelings were crushed by all the “Restricted Area” signs and razor-wire coils forming a disincentive to walking around the lake to Tibet. I took childish joy in photographing the “Restricted Area: No Photography” sign as well as the soldier’s socks, hanging outside the bunker to dry.

We re0fuelled the cards and headed out. Got to chat with a colleague I didn’t know well yet, and rode in the comfiest jeep but discovered its shocks weren’t so great when we returned over the spilled boulders.

We had lunch at home base and did an afternoon clinic at the same location as the previous day. I was meant to do general med but felt sorry for the student distributing eye glasses, so I went and helped hi,. That was a difficult job. Lots of patients just needing sunglasses or a weak prescription which we had run out of.

One girl really liked a fashionalbe pair of +1.25s. We thought it was just because they were nice, so we had her try on the same prescription but in a pair of ugly-framed glasses. She said the latter ones made her dizzy (“zim zim”).

We accused her of just wanting the nice frames but then we then realized the ugly ones were in fact a stronger prescription (the handwriting made +1.75 look like +1.25) and would indeed make her dizzy.

I felt horrible. I just didn’t want to give her a pair of glasses that would make her dizzy or not correct her vision adequately, but we had been rude. I asked the translator to apologize and explain that we didn’t want to give her the wrong glasses because they might make her dizzy and nauseous. I apologized, and my partner said in his loudest, “I am speaking to an ESL student” accent said: “Me soooo sorry!” I nearly burst out laughing at the patronizing tone. Saying it louder, slower, and annunciating more clearly will not make her understand English. Nice try, though! Hahahaha!

We shut down the station early which was a relief, because I had developed a headache from the kerosene burner the dentists were using to sterilize their equipment.

I thoroughly enjoyed the idea of the toilet shack up on a nearby hill. No fourth wall/door but instead a view of the dunes above. Upon exiting, a nice view of he valley and gompa below.

Tonight was cricket in the most competitive way. Balls being lost in the stream, people tripping over stones in the fields, jumping into the water to retrieve the ball, etc.

Our Indian Pharmacist/trip organizer does a victory/”you’re a cheater” dance by swivelling his hips and shaking his hands above his head. I tried to take a video but was laughing too hard so I missed most of it! Alternate this with his rival since boyhood (currently on the other Cricket team) coughing his lungs out like the smoker he is. Lots of fun into the sunset.

An American dinner: Indian versions of pizza, spaghetti, fries, and an apple pie that was not quite as good as it looked. A short talk on Rheumatic Heard Disease. We disperse. Earlier, we’d played a little group game called Assassin/Mafia but in the darkness, there is only fire and song.

My tent-mate and friend is ill, so I head to bed early after the usual hold-flashlight-and-hold-breath trip to the toilets (outhouse-style). Vengaboys and wind, along with two male voices carry as we drift off. My nose is plugged. I bet we all snore like chain-saws at this altitude.