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On my journey in the Annapurna Mountains of the Nepal Himalaya I had a mission to introduce basket-style solar cookers as an alternative to fuel-wood cookers. But inevitably, as so often happens on my journeys, I learned more than I was able to give. This journey began long ago. But in the village of Besisahar, I laced up my boots, looked north up the Marsyangdi Khola (river) valley, through the lush tropical banana and orange trees and saw in the far distance just a hint of the glacial clad Annapurna Mountains that I had dreamed of for most of my life. I would follow the Marsyangdi Khola upstream and uphill for the next 10 days, crossing it many times on narrow, often wet foot-bridges, until I reached the village of Manang. From there the route followed high above the Jorgeng Khola, crossed Thorong La Pass at 5500 metres, then to Muktinath where the Kali Gandaki races downhill. Another 8 days of trekking and I would have essentially circumnavigated the magnificent mountains that make up the Annapurnas. Reaching over 7000 metres each, the Annapurnas are legendary among mountaineers and sacred to the mountain people. They are held in awe and dazzle those of us in their midst. Even their names ring with spiritual connotation: Lamjung Himal, Annapurna I, Annapurna II, Machhapuchhre, Annapurna III Gangapurna, Annapurna IV, Tilicho, Dhaulagiri, Annapurna South and Hiuchuli. Karma, a Sherpa, guided me into the mountains. But we were not alone. Often I would be joined on the track by villagers en route to visit their kin or by pilgrims journeying to a shrine. "Nameste" they would call out to me in greeting. Children would skip along with me for a while and then solemnly, with hands clasped, bless me before leaving. My trail led me steeply up, then steeply down through labyrinthine valleys, then up again to hug another mountainside. Step by step, day after day, the rhythm of my stride matched my mantra "om mani padme hum" and led me back in time. These high mountains are sparsely settled by Tibetan Buddhist peoples. Their monasteries and convents were perhaps the first settlements. Then villages grew close to the ancient shrines. The salt traders from the Tibetan plateau still pass through with their ponies on their way South. The small villages, each several hours apart, are linked together by a web of narrow foot paths. There are no wheeled vehicles here, no communication with the outside world. Village social and political structure is loose and self-defining without the influence of the Nepalese government. Buddhist philosophy of generosity and kindness ensures that resources are shared and people in need are cared for. Their subsistence economy relies on food they grow. A woman's wealth is displayed in the beads of mountain coral and turquoise she wears. As I journeyed deeper and higher into the mountains, bamboo, then rhododendron, barberry and pine forests gave way to the dry, high, wind-blown and water-worn meadows of the high altitude. Here at Braga, about 4000 metres above sea level where life is at the margins of human sustainability, I demonstrated the low-tech, hand-made solar cooker I had developed in Kathmandu, the capital city of Nepal. My days with these gentle people renewed my spirit. Signs of their enduring faith--mani walls of stone tablets carved with mantras and prayers; chortens, prayer flags that with each flutter in the wind send prayers out into the world; prayer wheels spun by old women as they walk the tracks; the trident on a pole top; a rock cairn at the top of a pass--all remind me that I am a new traveller in an old land and my journey is just beginning. |