New Zealanders Join Sherpa New Year Rites

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31262, 7 January 1967, Page 5

New Zealanders Join Sherpa New Year Rites

We have had a touch of winter this month at Khumjung village near Mount Everest. During the night of December 5 four inches of snow fell and we awoke to a white and beautiful world. There was no inclination to crawl out of our warm sleeping bags. But our Sherpas had no mercy, and brought us to the surface by vigorously shaking the snow off our tents.

It was rather exciting to see snow on the roof of our new Khumjung hospital and to find that inside the building it was warm and comfortable. This snowfall could be the forerunner of an unseasonably early winter ... but we hope not.

There is still much to do both on the hospital and on other projects, and later on I plan to take my young family up the Khumbu glacier to Everest Base Camp at 17,000 feet. I haven’t been there since we climbed the mountain in 1953. A couple of feet of fresh snow on the glacier would make the walk a great deal harder.

The snow brought to an end two weeks of sunshine with frosty nights and clear, sparkling days. A transformation has been produced in the hospital with the outsides virtually completed and much of the internal painting and finishing done as well. Carious Visitors We have installed a hot water system heated by a wood-burning stove and there is a constant stream of Sherpas visiting the kitchen to turn on a tap to see hot water flowing something they have never experienced before.

There has been an even greater transformation in some of the thyroid patients treated by our medical group —huge goitres have shrunk; dull and cretinous young faces have brightened. One rather slow young man has responded so positively to iodine that he speeded up his normal shambling gait beyond his sense of balance and he ended up with a broken collar bone. Many hundreds of Sherpas have now received injections of iodine-bearing oil. Our doctors are forecasting the end of goitres and cretinism in the new generation of Sherpas. Main Festival At the end of November we took a two-day break from hospital building and medical work to climb to the monastery at Thyangboche to attend Mane Rimdu, the main religious festival of the year. Hundreds of Sherpas gathered at this lovely spot with its tremendous view of Mount Everest All were in their best and gayest clothing. The head Lama of Thyangboche opened the festival in

an out-of-doors ceremony. He was dressed in magnificent brocade and sat with legs crossed on his carpet-covered throne exuding calmness and dignity. With untroubled authority he led his lamas in the chanting and prayers which bade farewell to the old year and welcomed in the new. Impressive Scene At the conclusion of the ceremony all the Sherpas swept forward to be blessed and all made offerings of money or food toward the upkeep of the monastery. The brilliant colouring, the deepvoiced chanting of religious scriptures, the clang of cymbals and the bellow of huge trumpets—all blended into the tremendous mountain backdrop to make an uncommonly impressive scene. It was only when the sun dipped behind a cloud that the chill air reminded us that we were at an altitude of over 13,000 feet in the early days of winter. The Sherpas, however, seemed unaffected by the cold.

The second day of Mane Rimdu was one of constant activity. At 9 a.m. we gathered in the courtyard of the monastery for a full day of masked dancing by the lamas. Our expedition had a place of honour in the gallery and we could glance over the heads of the twisting and turning dancers and see a long plume of snow streaming out from the summit of Mount Everest. The masks were cleverly moulded and painted, and represented everything from fiercely scowling gods to perpetually laughing clowns. All day the dances continued to the immense entertainment of the Sherpa audience.

Vigorous Dances The evening was also devoted to dancing but this time by the Sherpas themselves. We joined our many Sherpa friends in the courtyard of the monastery and thumped our way back and forth in vigorous measures. These dances frequently last all night but our strength wasn’t quite up to this. Well before midnight we strolled back to camp over the hard and frosty ground; there wasn’t a breath of wind. In the bright moonlight we could see the huge bulk of Everest against the northern sky and we noticed the snow plume still streaming from the summit in a remorseless highaltitude wind. I have attended Mane Rimdus before and regard them as rather remarkable experiences. They are an excellent opportunity to meet

Sherpa friends from many villages and they typify much that is best in the Sherpa character and religion. This year there were two main differences from previous festivals. Modern technology had reached Thyangboche and the chanting of prayers and holy scriptures was carried out over a battery operated loudspeaker system. At first I was horrified by this innovation but was surprised how quickly I learned to accept it The second dif-

ference was the presence of four Nepali policemen at the festival. Nepal had grown more conscious of its long border with Tibet and wishes to ensure its stability and peace.

There is usually nothing remarkable about policemen attending a large gathering —it, is part of their job. But it was unfortunate that these policemen on their first official visit to a Mane Rimdu ceremony behaved like a pack of bullies and rough-necks. Bad Impression Children were pushed over; elderly people thrust forcibly aside; and onlookers shouted at and threatened. A most unfavourable impression was created both in the Sherpas and the foreign visitors. I certainly hope that a better type of policeman can be allocated in future to such important border positions. In the centre of Khumjung is a temple of the Mahhayanna Buddhist faith to which all the Sherpas belong. It is called the Gompa and it fulfils many purposes. It is used for religious gatherings; it is a community centre where important village meetings are held; and it is the site of all local festivals. The Khumjung Gompa has a particularly fine library of Tibetan religious books, many virtually irreplaceable, and these are suffering damage during the monsoon rains. Our expedition had agreed to help the village put a new roof on Gompa. Neville Wooderson and I tackled this job with corrugated aluminium sheets we had brought from New Zealand. An air of cheerfulness and hilarity is always present at Sherpa working bees but in spite the laughter and gossip many huge flat rocks were removed from the roof and the ancient and rotting

wooden shingles thrown to the ground.. The rafters now stood revealed and looked strong enough for another half century—although mighty uneven to our Western eyes. Nailing new timber across the rafters to carry the roofing wasn’t a particularly easy job.

Some rafters needed wood chipped off and others required chunks of timber nailed on to' them to level them up. At each blow of the hammer a cloud of centuryold dust billowed up from the Gompa attic below—a mighty interesting place crammed with old monastery relics and flat wooden boards painted with religious symbols. Neville and I had been using some of the more faded boards as chocks on the rafters and we inquired as to their purpose. Mangmatsering, our head Sherpa, explained that it was the custom on the death of a relation to have a suitable holy painting made by a local artist and then to place it in the Gompa attic with due ceremony. The departed soul would then'receive many blessings on his or her long journey.Neville and I felt decidedly guilty after this explanation as on many occasions we had driven a six-inch nail right through the centre of the painted board. With a twinkle in his eye Mingma told us not to worry “as long as the painting has its head upward and not downward.” Great was our relief to discover that despite many nails through their middles all the heads were upward as recommended. The roof was duly finished after three days of energetic work and great was the local rejoicing. To honour our contribution the villagers decided to hold a party in our honour and all houses were asked to contribute five rupees each. Happy Party On the night of the function we were escorted to the Gompa and welcomed by the local dignitaries. In the temple we were placed on carpet-covered seats where huge statues of the Buddha and Guru Rimpoche could smile benignly down on us. The local firewater, rakshi, was then produced out of bottles of many shapes and sizes (mostly bearing old labels of a well known Scottish product)—and the party was mi! A huge meal of the Tibetan dish, Tukpa (noodles and stew) was then produced, and of course more rakshi. Before long dancing was under way with the women at one end and the men at the other end of a long line. The expedition members were invited into the line and the building shook and quivered to the thump of the rubber soles of the expedition and Tibetan felt boots. It was a wonderful happy occasion. As we walked back up the hill in the frosty moonlight I doubt if there was one of us who didn’t feel a warm glow of affection and respect for those tough, vigorous and cheerfid souls, the Sherpas of Nepal.

This is Sir Edmund Hillary's fourth dispatch from the Sherpa Hospital expedition.