Hillary will always be Burra Sahib to the Sherpas

Press, 29 May 1982, Page 15

Hillary will always be Burra Sahib to the Sherpas

Twenty-nine years ago this month, Sir Edmund Hillary became one of the first men to step on to the summit of Mount Everest. In the three decades since, Sir Edmund has devoted much of his time to building schools, hospitals and bridges in that part of Nepal where the Sherpa mountaineers live. JIM WILSON, of Christchurch, a member of Sir Edmund’s Himalayan Trust, has been with Sir Edmund on many of his school-building expeditions. In this article he describes some of the experiences on the latest of these expeditions, which is just drawing to a close after the opening of the first high school for Sherpas at Khumjung-Khunde, twin villages at 12,500 feet, near Mount Everest.

It is early evening by the time we reach Mani Dingma; dusk when we crowd into the small rock-walled school room; soon quite dark inside. Since midday we have been walking from the hospital Ed Hillary built at Phaplu: easy going along a beautiful wooded and cultivated river valley; startingly up and over a 10.000-foot pass; then steeply plunging down through rhododendron forest.

Now' we have reached our destination, a small village in a dent in the hillside where Ed built a school some years ago; our destination, but not the end of the day, for the real business is about to begin. Crowded, into the room with us are the village eiders, the teachers, the school committee, many parents, and a sprinkling of children. They hold in their hands their kind but deadly

weapons — bottles of chang (Sherpa beer) and rakshi (spirits). With insistent hospitality they ply us, each eager we drink of their brew. The heaviest pressure, of course, is on Ed and his Sherpa sirdar and old friend, Mingma Tsering. Three fills from each flask is the accepted and unavoidable custom. With skill you can make each lowering between refills a tiny sip, but even so a crowded reception demands

prodigious consumption. With the refills, white scarves and scarlet garlands of rhododendron are placed round Ed’s and Mingma’s necks until they have all but disappeared — just two beaming faces visible through halos of white and red.. Finally, the rules of hospitality are satisfied, and the flow' dwindles a little. Ed grins more broadly still and turns to Mingma. “O.K. Mingma, what is it?" And Mingma. in turn, asks the elders what they have in mind. The chairperson of the school committee, a . distinguished man of about 50, and the head teacher, a very striking young man of perhaps 30, take it in turns to explain. The position of the teachers here is very difficult indeed. Their school, and hence their Government salary is small; and as there are mainly trekking lodges, not homes, in the immediate vicinity of the school, they have great problems with accommodation. Out of a salary of R 275 a

month ($27.50) they have to spend R 250 on board and lodging — and if extra trekkers arrive they may be turned out of the lodge to make room for them! Would it be possible for Ed Hillary’s Himalayan Trust to help the village build a teachers’ house? The village will assist with labour and will raise as much money as they can. But it will stretch their resources to the limit and any assistance Burra Sahib (the “big sahib’’ — Ed’s universal title in these parts) can give will be very welcome. At first Ed and Mingma are hesitant. Trust funds are already heavily committed, we have not before assisted with teacher accommodation, and Ed is hoping not to have to make new commitments, though he knows he will have to face such meetings and such requests. But as the story unfolds the need seems so acute that a compromise is reached. The trust will advance half the money requested. When the village has raised its share (RSOOO, SSOO — no

small sum for so small a village), and made a start on the building, the other half of the trust's contribution will be paid over. No sooner is this request settled than another steps forward. A gnarled and eloquent. man from a river settlement far below speaks of a problem his village faces. They have no adequate bridge over the turbulent and dangerous Dudh Kosi, the river draining the Nepalese side of Mount Everest. Again the need is acute and all trust members present would love to say yes, we will help. But, alas "the bridge would have to be 60 metres long, a swing bridge of considerable proportions beyond both the financial resources and the expertise of the trust. Ed and Mingma can do no more than promise to raise the matter with'an American Peace Corps bridge builder working further up the valley. The meeting, and its outcome, are typical both of EdHillary's progress through the country whenever he walks into the Everest region, and of. his Himalayan Trust’s activities here. Everything done has been in response to local requests — a far cry from some foreign aid programmes where massive projects are planned far away and dropped on to an unsuspecting population, unsuspecting population. And Ed’s projects — schools, hospitals, bridges, assistance to monasteries — have been joint projects, both in terms of mingled trust and local contribution and in terms of mingled Nepalese and New Zealand styles of construction. While no programmes are perfect, and the trust has no doubt made mistakes, this strict adherence to response to- local requests and joint activity has made this aid programme one of the most effective possible. The Mani Dingma meeting and its outcome are but a preliminary incident to this year’s programme. The main task is the construction of a new school building, three new classrooms, at Khumjung. This will allow the large school there — Ed’s first — to expand to high school status. Rex Hillary, Ed’s brother, is the designer and chief builder, and he and Mingma, and other Sherpa and New Zealand helpers, soon have the foundations marked out and laid: and beautiful rock walls under wav.

One thing not in short

supply in this high village in an old moraine valley is rock, and under the chipchipping hammers of the local stonemasons it is shaped square for the corners and laid with careful precision. The New Zealand contribution is an aluminium roof on trussed wooden rafters. with novaroof skylights. This year, for the first time in one of Ed’s schools, concrete floors will be laid — expensive and difficult to do so far from cement supplies and . concrete mixers, but worth while to economise on dwindling timber resources. The concrete — for floor and for pointing the rock walls — is mixed by two seemingly tireless Sherpas endlessly swinging a tarpaulin back and forth. In addition, a new pipe has been laid for the Khunde hospital and village water supply, and a rock wall built to extend the courtyard of the monastery at Thami. To our delight, while on this latter task, we are welcomed into the heart of the monastery community. The

reincarnate Head Lama carried rocks for the wall with a will, and we attend the chanting of mantra and bugling of long copper and brass Tibetan horns at the Gompa (monastery) ceremonies.

Outside the windows and beyond the wall, the steep hillside fails away to a river, and huge peaks dwarf our small efforts. But this year the main Gompa ceremony, a colourful and intricate dance-drama depicting the endless conflict between good and evil, will be presented on a larger courtyard. The final project is a bridge, but, alas, not the one requested at Mani Dingma. A short day’s walk from Khumjung and Khunde, at Phak ding, one of many Sherpa bridges spans the Dudh Kosi. Huge logs are cantilevered out from rock buttresses, and a central span joins the two sides.

The bridge at Phakding is at the outer limits of length for this type of bridge, and the central span sways somewhat unnervingly as you cross. Ed has agreed to a

request to strengthen the bridge, and plans to do so by a simple and effective method he has used before — A-frame wooden towers on either side and wire ropes over them and down to give additional support to the central span.

It is work Ed especially enjoys, and already anchors, clamps, and tighteners have been sorted into loads ready to go down with us as soon as Rex Hillary can spare us from the school building. Not all is work for us, of course. Sherpa hospitality is by no means confined to occasions for requests. We descend one day for lunch at Sagarmartha National Park headquarters. The park was established with New Zealand assistance, and our-host at the delicious spicy lunch is Mingma Norbu, the park warden, who was educated at Khumjung School and Lincoln College.

Another evening we are entertained by Shyam, headmaster of Khumjung School. Some of us imbibe the predinner chang not wisely but

too well, and remember little of the walk — or should I say float — back through rock-lined lanes to Mingma's house. Throughout these activities and indulgences, however, the Mani Dingma meeting remains for us a symbol of how the Hillary Trust operates: what we are doing here and why. And a mere month after that meeting, as we perch on the new Khumjung school building banging on aluminium roofing, suddenly there below stands the head teacher from Mani Dingma. Behind his broad smile he carries a cheerful message. The teachers’ house is complete save for its roof, and the village has raised not R5OOO but R 6200. Could they now have the rest of the trust’s contribution so they can get the roof on before the monsoon rains? The grey day seems to brighten around us, everybody happy as the money is paid over and a small contribution to yet another village education project seems successfully completed.