Tsokha
We found ourselves back in the comfortable and comforting former Tibetan village of Tsokha. From Tsokha we could see where we came from and where we were going. Our rustic shack stood amidst a Tibetan gompa, chortens, horses, dogs, dzos and happy trekkers and their relentless crews. The cabins are small, wooden with aluminum roofs. Wooden frames enclose yards where animals feed on fresh grass and hay. Prayer flags waver in the thin, misty air and the only sounds are the gas stove and happy chit-chat of our crew. The mountains to the north and south seem infinite, we are swallowed up and humbled by our insignificance.
Sachin
Nearing the end of our journey we spent one last night in the tent, in Sachin where we stopped for lunch on that first, brutally long day. It started to rain after lunch-we ran to our tent for cover but found it to be leaking so I plugged up the holes with toilet paper and the Bear covered the fly with an emergency blanket. The camp was dense, our dinner tent as well as one belonging to another group stood five feet away and the dzos and their poop just across the washing spring. We had to walk down a steep embankment to use the toilet in the woods, along with the horse and dzo poop. I tried not to think about the cleanliness of my boots. The condition of the ground means another hope of practicing some yoga was squashed.
In the morning before trekking down to camp the Bear took a group photo which amused the entire crew. Our cook, Bibi, even changed his shirt for it. The walk down was slow and lovely, the magpies and butterflies following us all the way, and Skorice, the stray dog who had led our way the day before and I had since adopted, brought us all the way down. At one point we were crossing a rickety bridge over a rocky river and Skorice stopped and began barking at something in the woods on the other side. We thought it may be a bear so we shouted and beat sticks on rocks to alert our presence. There was no bear to be found but Skorice did a good job of alerting us to groups of dzos and horses rounding the coming curves.
Yuksam
The night in Sachin was bittersweet: after dinner the crew brought us a cake upon which was written "Happy Trek" and we all crowded into the dinner tent to share the cake and tea. We thought this the best time to give them their tips, though after their gesture, ours seemed cold. Suresh gave a speech about how on the trek we are all family and, me being me, I teared up a little bit. The next day, our last, the Bear gave Suresh one of our flint stones since we noticed that he likes to make small fires on boulders. The Bear showed him how it works and he called the process "magic." The hike back definitely felt like jungle, the heat increasing the closer we got to Yuksam and the flies mixing with my horribly dry skin. Suresh pointed to the jungle on the other side of the river that has not been developed for hiking and said that the place is not for humans, but rather for tigers and bears. We spotted a large bee hive inside a cave on that side, hanging down in thick, loose waves like laundry. Skorice, the dog, followed us all the way to the village of Yuksam and we finally parted ways unceremoniously.
In Yuksam we checked back into the Demazong Hotel, thankfully into a different room, though this one came with a nest of chirping birds right in the hallway in front of the door. The feeling of taking a shower after ten days is indescribable. We each lingered in the steam for much longer than the current water shortages in Sikkim allow. We got to say goodbye to our crew on the main village road, though we didn't really know what to say. It is, after all, just a job for them, without as much sentiment or meaning as it holds for us. All I could say was that I hoped to see them again.
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