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Travelogues
Going on
Kailash Manasarovar Yatra – 3
Deraphuk has a single barrack-like building with rooms for the yatris to
share. Who-so-ever stays there may be prepared to suffer strangers
walking into the rooms and staring. This is a perpetual problem
compounded by the fact that the rooms allotted to us ladies never seem
to have a lock throughout the tenure in Tibet.
I reach Deraphuk around 5 pm after a four-hour yak ride. Any reasonably
fit person can easily do the ten km stretch from Yamduar to Deraphuk on
foot, but I decide to practice riding on the yak in preparation for
crossing of the Dolma pass the next day. This turns out to be very
sensible and perhaps contributes to my fall-less tour.
 The view of the northern face of Kailash is spectacular from Deraphuk
and gives its closest view. The mountain is said to have four faces like
jewels as per Tibetan mythology (North- Gold, South- Lapis lazuli, East-
Crystal and West- Ruby) and is also associated with four animals. After
dumping our things in the room some of us decide to go nearer the
mountain. The mountain proper is held sacred and as per an international
treaty nobody is allowed to climb it. The closeness turns out to be an
illusion as we cross three hillocks only to find more ahead. We nearly
reach a glacier giving rise to a river. The place is the most eerily
beautiful one I have been ever in. There is a peculiar aura that
probably exists in my imagination, I do not know. You can sit there for
hours. This face of Kailash is too vertical to even hold snow (unlike
the southern face forever blanketed in white) except in the thin ridges.
The stone appears glossy black and totally different from that of the
surrounding mountains, which have brown, flaky layered sedimentary rocks
crumbling from sun and snow. The lowering clouds suddenly burst into a
shower of hail and we are forced to turn back willy-nilly.
Experts rate the next day the toughest day of the whole expedition and
we had repeatedly been warned about the 22 km trek. We set out on yaks
early after a light breakfast and reach Dolma-la around 11.30 am. The 5
km odd climb to 19,000 plus feet to the Pass is a test for endurance,
both for those on foot as well as those riding. The same yaks that were
comparatively stable the previous day go berserk. Altitude sickness
manifests in various ways in human beings. It seems to be the same case
with yaks too. The animals keep pushing each other in bad temper with
lots of waving of horns and attempted goring. All of us keep praying the
whole time spend on yak-back. We have to reach the Pass early to avoid
bad weather. To our luck the weather is cloudy but otherwise fine
throughout without a trace of rain and snow. I hang onto my yak till the
Pass where the yak man thankfully decants me. I vow never to complain
about a horse again. I also do rest of the trek on foot.
Dolma-la is the abode of the goddess Dolma. There is no temple, only
rocks draped with prayer flags. I attempt to light a bunch of incense
sticks specially carried from India but the lighter (specially purchased
for 2 yuans from Talkakote) refuses to light. My yak man suddenly offers
to help, manages to light a few and promptly requests for the lighter,
all in sign language. I let him keep the lighter and stick the
agarbattis in the snow. I also open a bag of chocolate éclairs and offer
the yak man and a passing porter girl. The toffees will serve as prasad
on my return to India.
Right below the pass is the emerald green Gaurikund. Goddess Parvati is
said to have bathed here during her penance to claim Lord Shiva as her
husband. MEA had warned us not to attempt to climb down to collect water
but pay the porters instead. The bottles had been accordingly handed
over. We had met a Swedish couple in Qihu earlier and the lady had
claimed to have taken a dip in the kund.
The walk from the Dolma pass to Zongzerbu, the site of night halt, is
downhill over boulders and through marshes. The long trek is along
streams and I enjoy being back on my feet again. I reach Zongzerbu at 6
pm with aches and pains and without lunch but thanking my lucky stars
about the clear weather. Had it rained / snowed, the Dolma pass is
exceedingly tough and yatris are exhausted by the 17 km trek that
follows the Pass.
The following day’s trek is like a morning walk after the past two days
and in no time we cover 5 km to reach the motorable road where the truck
is to pick us up for return journey to Darchen. We find another truck, a
mobile shop, waiting for us instead. Some enterprising Tibetans have
loaded crates of Chinese juice and soft drinks onto an army discard to
sell to the thirsty yatris. We happily laze in the sun till the truck
finally lands up. We reach Darchen by noon.
The Kailash parikrama is completed with a visit to Astapada. So after a
lunch of Maggi instant soup we set out on foot for Astapada. The helper
Karma is induced to accompany us. He leads us off the beaten track over
what he thinks to be a short cut. We pass grassy meadows riddled with
burrows of rabbits and marmots. We even see them standing up on their
haunches watching us curiously. The actual road via a monastery goes
along a different route. We finally land panting after a grueling 2-hour
climb on to a mountaintop with incredible view of Kailash ahead and the
entire valley behind right down to the Rakshas Tal in the distance. We
also see a cloud pouring rain in the valley below. It is quite difficult
to describe the visual effect of the rain spiraling down, like a scene
from the “Twister”. Since we are almost at the same height as the clouds
we have literally a bird’s eye view. Thunder rumbles and lightning
flashes. But the Rakshas Tal in the horizon is spot lit in the sun. Some
of us lie on the grassy hill top looking at the drama going on down
below though fully aware that with a change in wind direction, the rain
cloud might hit us. We decide not to play on our luck any more and
return to Darchen. We take the proper road this time and visit the
gompha to light butter lamps. They are rebuilding this gompha and a
small van had gone up with supplies. We persuade the driver to give us a
lift back to Darchen for 140 yuans. There are seven of us and 20 yuans
per head seem better than a drenching that is imminent. Rains strike
while we are in the open van. But we feel so high having completed the
parikramas successfully that it is no botheration. The showers stop by
the time we reach Darchen and the late evening sun comes out.
The Return Trip
The bus comes to Darchen to pick the Shakti group up. We get loaded.
Last minute shoppers are dragged away from the market clutching bead
necklaces, metal bells and onyx bowls. Blaring “Soldier, Soldier” on the
bus audio system all the way we drive down to Qihu. The Shiv group is
found taking dips in the Manasarovar. Some of us dive in while the rest
content ourselves with splashing water. We started the yatra with a
ritual bath in the lake waters and now finish it with a repeat dip after
completion of both the parikramas. The reunited group is taken to
Taklakote.
We are woken up at 5 AM Beijing time (2.30 AM IST) for the return trip
to India. Most of us doze off. The bus moves through the dark deserted
countryside dimly lit only with the headlights. Suddenly we are jerked
out of our stupor. The bus shudders to a halt in the middle of a river.
The wheels are jammed in the boulders. We peer out with torch lights and
see only gushing white waters everywhere. Driver tries to-and-fro
movements, nothing works. The men get down and shout various and often
conflicting instructions. The bus sinks deeper. We all get out and wade
to the riverbank. It so happens that nobody has any emergency contact
numbers in Tibet / China. Nobody answers the phone in India when dialed
over the satellite phone. We are literally in deep waters with no way to
communicate our plight.
Dawn breaks after about two hours and the red glow lights up some
unknown snow peaks. In the semi-dark a group of ponies materializes.
Luckily they turn out to be meant for us to carry our luggage up to the
Lipulekh pass from the end of the motorable road that is still about 15
km away. The pony men help us in tying ropes onto the bus in order to
drag it out. Even concerted efforts do not induce the bus to budge
except deeper in. Meanwhile the water level is seen to be rising,
probably due to continued rains upstream. After such futile exercise a
human chain is formed to unload the luggage and carry it across the
river to the dry bank where the ponies are waiting.
Then starts the long haul up to the Lipulekh pass. The Tibetan ponies
are different from their Indian counterparts, being better trained. The
pony men do not lead their ponies. The rider is given a pair of ribbons
to handle the pony. After the hair-raising yak experience the relatively
docile ponies are a cakewalk. In absence of rain or snow, our ponies
trudge onto almost half a kilometer below the pass, which is too steep
for riding. Gasping for breath in the rarified atmosphere and with
pumping hearts we labor across into India. About four hours behind the
scheduled rendezvous at the pass, we are greeted with almost
embarrassing religious fervor by the next batch of yatris. The pony men
and porters who had earlier attended to us, greet us like old friends.
There is hand shaking and back slapping all around even between
strangers in the exaltation of the homecoming. The once-in-a-lifetime
experience (perhaps) of personally viewing of the grandeur of Kailash
and Manasarovar notwithstanding, it feels great to be home again.
– Kana Talukder
October 9, 2005
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Kana Talukder is currently doing a 2 year
course In Science, Technology & Environment Policy at University of
Minnesota, Minneapolis.
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