In the darkness of the night
…her fingers gingerly clack on the keyboard, barely lit by the faint monitor.
Its only 10pm, but here I am, the only one awake amongst deep breathing monsters. I am hoping the Internet connection will keep on being nice to me and let me post this. After numerous failed attempts at putting pictures up on the blog, I am left with naked words to update you on experiences that, frankly, I lack the writing capacity to do properly.
We have been up here, the small corner of the Himalayas, for about 3 weeks now. The mornings are teeth crushingly cold, that is until the sun knocks on our door at 8:30 and brings with it the melting delight of its warmth. I need a few minutes of direct sunlight, gulping the views spread all around us, to defrost and be able to function, or to attempt to put my pants on. A job much harder than it may sound.
The kids are soaking all of this wilderness up and, of course, barely notice the chill in the air. It seems with age I have turned from the girl that used to run around in a ballet dress in the midst of an angry European winter, into my mother, or the person that just shimmies from one warm room to another under 25 woolen blankets. And its not really that cold here – during the day we are at about 12-14 degrees Celsius.
The vistas, though. Oh, those darn vistas that seem to surround us with gigantic, overwhelming hills. I dont need to tell you its beautiful, because its the Himalayas, for goodness sakes. What makes it even better is that we are in the less traveled parts of the range, where the roads are crumbling and a-ha falling down the cliff, the villages consist of 4 or 5 houses, with orange roofs from the corn that is drying for the winter, and to walk to the nearest ‘big’ village it takes a death defying gelly-leg inducing decent of approximately 30 minutes through small path created by the swift light steps of the locals who appear to have missed the fact that there is a “death-defying” incline they are dealing with.
Some days its hard to comprehend where we are. I like to feel these things, stop in my tracks, quiet down, open my eyes and just say to myself “I am in the freaking Himalayas!”, and I feel it. It fills me. Other times, the whole adventure of our experience falls through the cracks of daily life and its hard to grasp.
Thankfully, not often.
We are starting to think of going back down to life shortly, so I hope I will be able to find the time then to update you on at least some of the things we have been busy with here.
Until then, stop, breathe in and thank someone that you are not dealing with a 2-7 KBps Internet connection, because I am sure it wasnt long ago when this was luxury. Now I will hold my fingers crossed that this will post.