[Six days after a catastrophic storm bore down
on a several trekking routes in Nepal’s
central Himalayan region, trapping scores of hikers, a spokesman for Nepal’s
home minister said Monday that there was “no one left to rescue” from the area
and that workers had turned to recovering the bodies of the dead. He said that
eight were still missing, trapped under at least 35 feet of snow.]
By Nida Najar
 |
| Family members of Nepali trekking porters waited outside a morgue in Katmandu on Monday. Credit Narendra Shrestha/European Press photo Agency |
In an incense-filled prayer room inside a
Buddhist monastery here, more than a dozen lamas chanted and prayed beside the
body of Ang Dorje Sherpa, a 36-year-old porter who died last Tuesday alongside
two Slovakian clients when an avalanche engulfed their group at the base of the
towering Dhaulagiri mountain.
At a small, brick synagogue, a handful of
young Israeli friends prayed for Nadav Shoham, an Israeli man of about 30 who
was overcome by blasting wind and blinding snow that day as he tried to fight
his way down from the Thorong La pass to the nearest town.
And in the quiet garden of a guesthouse in
this city’s labyrinthine backpackers’ district, Grant Tomlinson, of Vancouver,
British Columbia, waited another day for the body of his wife, Jan Rooks, 55, a
nurse, whom he saw swept under a wall of snow and debris.
“It was like she was erased,” he said.
Six days after a catastrophic storm bore down
on a several trekking routes in Nepal’s
central Himalayan region, trapping scores of hikers, a spokesman for Nepal’s
home minister said Monday that there was “no one left to rescue” from the area
and that workers had turned to recovering the bodies of the dead. He said that
eight were still missing, trapped under at least 35 feet of snow.
Officials in three districts where bodies had
been recovered in and around the popular Annapurna Circuit raised the death
toll to 40 people, half of whom were Nepali.
As rescue efforts ended and travelers began
slowly to return to Katmandu, the international dimension of the disaster and
the toll it took on Nepali porters and guides came into focus. People from at
least seven countries — Canada, India, Israel, Japan, Nepal, Poland and
Slovakia — lost their lives. Travelers from many other nations were injured.
The trekkers were drawn to the mountains by
distinct motivations. There was the group from Vancouver, for whom hiking was
in their blood. There were retirees who finally had enough time to travel, like
a 62-year-old former banker from Calcutta who was killed in the storm. And
there were Swiss engineers and young Israelis, some delighting in the rhythms
of trekking and its walking meditation, some looking at it as a much-needed
break.
Because of the pull of the Himalayas, and the
relative accessibility of the treks in and around the Annapurna Circuit, the
tragedy reverberated across continents and contexts. The circuit attracted many
inexperienced trekkers — young people with little money to spend on a vacation,
and some with gear more appropriate for a comfortable hike than for a journey
through a snowstorm.
While climbers pay up to $100,000 to tour
companies to climb Mount Everest, and their Sherpa guides earn $3,000 to $5,000
a season, some of the most basic packages for the Annapurna Circuit cost as
little as a few hundred dollars per person. On budget tours, porters can make
as little as 1,000 Nepalese rupees a day, or about 10 dollars, and are often
even less equipped to handle harsh weather. October is meant to offer the best
and clearest trekking weather, but the climate has become less predictable
recently.
“Seven people died — and we’re only one
story,” said Paul Cech, 54, a computer animator from Vancouver who trekked in a
group of four that included Mr. Tomlinson and Ms. Rooks and who escaped from
the village of Phu.
Tamar Ariel, a 25-year-old Israeli pilot, came
to Nepal after a summer of working as a navigator on a fighter jet during the
50-day conflict between Israel and Gaza. The daughter of a farmer, she hailed
from a kibbutz of avocado groves and modest, red-roofed homes. The Israeli
police visited the family on Thursday to deliver the news that she had died in
the snowstorm.
Scott Copeland, her uncle, speaking on the
phone from the family’s home in southern Israel, described her as a deeply
religious woman, and a “boundary breaker.” He said that after her work in Gaza
over the summer, “it was time for a little bit of a break.”
“The situation in Israel is strict,” said
Chani Lifshitz, the wife of the rabbi of Chabad House who had been coordinating
with the Israeli embassy in Nepal. She said that many of the Israeli travelers
that come to Nepaldo so after three years of mandatory military service,
sometimes involving combat and the deaths of friends on the battlefield. “After
three years, they’re looking for a place that’s far and free,” she said.
For Nepalis, the vast expanse of the Himalayan
ridges offered a chance at economic freedom. Ang Dorje Sherpa came from a
village of a few hundred people at the foothills of Mount Everest. At 7,000
feet, there was not much his parents’ generation could do but grow potatoes and
millet for paltry wages. But the burst of tourist interest in Nepal represented
an opportunity, however imperfect, for his generation to lift itself out of
abject poverty.
“My opinion is that it’s a job,” said Datenzee
Sherpa, who grew up with Ang Dorje and who also turned to portering and guide
work. “It should be work. It’s normal for us. An incident like this suddenly
may happen at any moment.”
For Mr. Cech and Mr. Tomlinson, 63, who
fashions lutes for a living in Vancouver, Nepal was a natural extension of
lives filled with hiking in the Pacific Northwest. Their group hiked the
Annapurna Circuit in 2001 and returned for the quieter route along the villages
stepped into the mountain in the Nar Phu valley. They were drawn to the ancient
stone carvings along the way, and the Tibetan prayer flags hung around
villages.
Ms. Rooks, a cardiac nurse whose work included
counseling families with infants who undergo serious heart surgery, cultivated
a love of hiking with Mr. Tomlinson. They hiked throughout their 15-year
marriage — to the Rockies; to Ladakh, in India; and to Nepal. She and Mr.
Tomlinson loved bird-watching, and her ever-present binoculars were a source of
fascination to the villagers they encountered along their path.
“She was one of the finest people I’ve ever
met,” said Mr. Tomlinson. “She was smart and warm, she reached into the heart
of people and pulled out their essence.”
When the group of four woke up in a tea lodge
in Phu on Tuesday morning, there were several inches of snow already on the
ground. The guides of their group and two other tour companies in the area met
and decided to move out. It was a decision they would later regret.
“If we stayed in Phu,” said Mr. Cech, “Jan
would have lived.”
