"Every Mountain Signifies God"

 

Why do we challenge ourselves and to what lengths will we go to achieve our desired outcomes? Who are we when we step outside our zones of comfort and familiarity?

Alerted to the documentary “Aftershock” by a friend who knows my love for mountains, I watched all three episodes in one sitting. The documentary is about the earthquake in Nepal in April 2015, that caused massive avalanches and destruction, with a huge loss of life – 9,000 people. I watched, enthralled, appalled, heart racing, and in awe at the sheer magnificence and power of the mountains.

To quote one of the Nepalis, “In Sherpa culture, every mountain signifies God.” They respect mountains as if they were their mothers.

Yet, many Westerners treat Everest as some kind of personal achievement, an item to be ticked off a bucket list, a challenge to be wrestled with and overcome. Human relationships with mountains are varied, the reasons for scaling them complex. Everest base camp is crowded, littered with tents of various climbing groups, all intent on reaching the summit.

The documentary focuses on three locations: Everest (base camp and camp 1), Kathmandu, and the Langtang valley. At Everest, we hear from some of the trekkers who survived, one of them a young Iranian woman who had set out on her first Everest attempt as a way to overcome her shyness and prove something to herself.

There it is: We set ourselves challenges to prove something to ourselves. In some instances, it may also be to prove something to others; to portray ourselves in a favourable light; to create an image of who we want to be seen to be.

In the Langtang valley, the story centres around three young Israeli men, newly released from the army, who set out for a remote adventure, choosing the valley precisely because it is remote and challenging.

In Kathmandu, the focus is more local, around a family, the father having made something of his life after meeting and marrying a woman who changed him. He has bought a hotel and is raising a family when disaster strikes.

The earthquake is sudden, unannounced, with devastating avalanches and consequences for all three locations. It is the human faces behind this event that moves us. It is the human behaviour that makes us ponder and ask what we would do in such circumstances, and – why do we put ourselves in such situations? Why do we climb mountains, pit ourselves against nature and inhospitable conditions?

For the Nepalis, it is their home. But for the rest of the people who arrive at Everest base camp or the Langtang valley, it is not. When the mountains speak, the Nepalis listen. When the mountains roar and say, “Now is not the time to climb me,” they respect the message. But some Westerners have a different perspective. One man, trapped at Camp 1 after the avalanche, with no way of returning to base camp, wants to keep going, to ascend higher, up to the peak. He has paid his 40K. He wants to complete his bucket list.

Such is the difference in mindset: a mountain to be conquered for one’s own personal satisfaction; a mountain to be revered and respected. At stake of course, is human life. But not only that. It’s human decency and understanding, respect for the greater good of all who are there.

This becomes evident in Langtang valley, where the three Israeli men enrage the Nepalis when they disrespect the village that has been destroyed. This becomes evident in the rescue efforts at Kathmandu, when American teams arrive, ready to take charge. But it is the Nepalis who know the land intimately, who must be the ones to lead the rescue.

Who are we when we set out to challenge ourselves and what happens when we don’t understand or respect the land we’re on? What is the outcome worth, if it comes at a cost to others?

When an Israeli rescuer arrives in a helicopter at Langtang valley, he diffuses the situation with a single sentence: “I am here to help everybody.”