The Sherpa's Burden

By Stuart Ames

Through thin air, icy slopes, and a treacherous descent, Norbu Dorje, a talented Sherpa, guides his American client safely down a Himalayan peak. However, confused responsibilities between Norbu and a rival Sherpa guide, result in the death of Norbu's boss. The other guide blames Norbu for the tragedy. As the story spreads throughout the mountai

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: May 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798822901704

Stuart Ames

Stuart Ames grew up in Portland, Oregon, and moved to New York City after graduating from college. Curious about the world and its people, he studies economics, history, culture, and anything else he finds interesting. Stuart loves his family and friends, the great outdoors, and exploring, both near and far. He currently lives in Charleston, South Carolina. Please visit him at stuartames.com.

Book preview

LILA

I

married my husband for love—as my parents did when they married. At the time, my father worked in the mountains as a porter. Although he was a Sherpa from the Khumbu region in Nepal, he was based far away in Darjeeling, India, where many mountaineering expeditions started. On several of his journeys, he trekked through my mother’s Himalayan village. They fell in love, but my grandparents opposed my father. A silly stance, since my mother left one night and walked five hundred kilometers to Darjeeling to be with him anyway. My oldest brother was born, and they considered themselves married. Many couples from the Khumbu lived in Darjeeling then. Both the men and the women worked. Some Sherpas settled in India permanently, but my parents loved the Khumbu and wanted to return to the mountains of their birth.

Laden with expedition gear to support climbers on Sagarmatha, or Everest as the outsiders call it, my father trekked through the Khumbu valley, foothills, and mountains with one eye on the trail and the other on the villages. In particular, he loved this village—the way it perched above the valley with a view of the high Himalayas to the east and north. He felt the monastery here was a blessing to the guides, porters, and foreigners who stopped on their way to the mountains. It was a small, rustic place, but the paths were wide, the stone walls solid, the people friendly—a few monks, some farmers, a handful of shopkeepers, but mostly the families of men who worked in the mountains. My father loved the stories of the old men sitting near the market. They told him tales of the early British and German mountaineering expeditions. Those Sherpas earned the respect of the climbing world. A respect that would endure for all generations to come. Despite poverty and illiteracy, those old tigers of the snow changed the way outsiders perceived the Sherpa people. They were renowned for their courage, stamina, and loyalty.

My father sought beauty. In this village, he found it. He brought my mother, my two brothers, and me to live here when I was still a young girl. I, too, loved this place when we came. The meadows and wildflowers, the festivals and friends, the monastery and the market.

I also liked the boys. I wanted to stay and not have to run away like my mother. From early on, I watched the boys of my village, knowing someday I would probably marry one of them. I observed carefully, and at some point, I chose Norbu. He was a few years older than me, but I saw he was a respectful and capable young man. He was not as handsome as some, but he had power of body and heart. A steady loyalty. A quiet seriousness that inspired confidence. And he showed signs of intelligence. I thought, Here is a man who would not be difficult to love. All these things I believed as a girl. Or perhaps I just remember these things because this is how he turned out. I was either blessed or smart. Maybe both. But whichever way it was, or however I remember my thoughts then, I count myself fortunate. There are many worse men.

I remind myself of this when I see Norbu sad.

HIGH MOUNTAIN

A

scuffed ball skidded across the patch of packed earth that had been cleared for a helipad. Cheers came from young Sherpas as the ball passed between two small cairns outlining the goal. One of the American climbers put his hands on top of his head, expanding his chest, and gasped at the thin air.

Norbu, we need some help. Come play on our team, the man called between breaths. These young guys are too fast for us.

Norbu Dorje smiled but shook his head. Work to do, he replied.

The days spent acclimatizing to high altitude were tedious for the foreign climbers, who had little to do. But the long days were still full of work for the Sherpa staff. As the sirdar, Norbu was responsible for everything—the guides, porters, and other camp staff. He threaded his way through the small village of tents until he found the headquarters for Sterling Sky Expeditions. Inside, Jay Chapman, the owner, sat at a table with his wife, Nicole—their mood light despite the buzz of activity around them. Jay invited Norbu to join them and called for another cup of tea. Norbu had worked with Jay for eight years—starting as a climbing guide but quickly being promoted to sirdar. Norbu gave Jay a quick status report on the preparations for the climb to Camp One the next morning.

Jay turned to his wife. How is Maxwell?

Still ill, answered Nicole. I don’t think he will be able to climb tomorrow. I need to check on him again. She excused herself and left the table.

It is good to have Nicole here, said Norbu. She was a doctor in New Zealand, so he always felt more prepared when she was in camp. He was also grateful for the medical care she freely offered the porters, guides, and even their families when she visited the Khumbu valley.

I’m happy she is here too, said Jay. It took a lot of convincing for her leave our little Elle at home with Grandma.

You could have brought your daughter with you, suggested Norbu. She is an honorary Sherpa and will love the mountains.

Jay laughed and agreed. But Elle is only two, and Nicole thinks she needs to be a bit older before she can enjoy the Himalayas like we do.

She will be a great climber someday. Like her mother.

Jay did not respond. Nicole was an experienced climber, but she had given up technical climbing and the high peaks when they had decided to start a family. Although she did not voice her concerns, he knew she wondered when he would also leave the mountains and pursue a less risky vocation. Nicole would never ask him to stop climbing, but Jay knew she hoped he would come to the conclusion himself. In fact, he had thought about stepping away. But he had not yet come to a resolution. Or perhaps he had. Delaying a decision to quit was, in itself, a choice to keep climbing.

Jay had first come to Nepal fifteen years ago to climb Ama Dablam. He still remembered standing at the summit after two weeks of trekking and climbing. He had never stood higher. The valleys and mountains seemed small and distant. He spotted a bird gliding on air currents far below the summit. However, when his gaze leveled, he counted six peaks that were still higher than where he stood. He vowed to climb them all.

And he had. Over the next three years, he lived full-time in Nepal, training and climbing, learning the language, and getting to know the people. After summiting Everest, Jay knew he could never be satisfied with an office job in Auckland. He returned to New Zealand, incorporated his climbing company, and began soliciting clients. He had a good head for organization and a sensible prudence suited for the risks of climbing the high peaks. His simple gratitude for the guides and porters won him friends and respect in the Sherpa community. But underlying everything else, he simply loved the mountains.

Jay met Nicole on an expedition to climb Cho Oyu. She had just graduated from medical school in New Zealand and had wanted to do something fun before starting her residency. Climbing an eight-thousand-meter Himalayan peak fit the bill. On that trip, she not only conquered the mountain but also Jay’s heart. He shuttled between Nepal and New Zealand during her hospital training. Together, they climbed the Southern Alps whenever she had a short break. Upon completion of her residency, they married. Nicole became a specialist in high altitude-related medical conditions and served as the expedition doctor on many of Jay’s trips.

Working together in the mountains had been the perfect life. But since Elle’s birth two years ago, he had sensed Nicole’s priorities changing. His had not. He loved Nicole more than anything and adored baby Elle, but his passion for the mountains remained the same. His feelings for Elle simply brought more love to his life.

When will you bring her to the Khumbu? asked Norbu, interrupting Jay’s reverie.

"I’ve always wanted to have her blessed by the abbot of the Tengboche Monastery. To have a white khata scarf tied around her neck—a welcome to Nepal and a blessing of safety for her life. I guess when she is old enough to understand the translation."

That will be a fine day, agreed Norbu. May I come?

Definitely.

Norbu reverted back to business, describing the tasks to be accomplished before tomorrow’s climb. Jay smiled as Norbu talked. He had complete confidence in his sirdar’s abilities. Jay had learned years ago that Norbu could be trusted implicitly. At first, Jay had set up base camps while Norbu went to Lukla to pick up incoming clients from the airport. But once, Jay missed a connecting flight, and they had to switch responsibilities. When Jay hiked into base camp a few days later with the climbing party, everything was in better shape than it had ever been under his direction. Since then, Jay had delegated more of the day-to-day management to Norbu. He was glad to have such a trustworthy partner.

Nicole returned from checking on the client. She shook her head. Nothing serious—stuffed sinuses and a headache—but Mr. Maxwell won’t be able to climb tomorrow. He may recover in a couple of days though.

Jay looked at Norbu. Should we wait for him?

The weather is good now, said Norbu.

Hmm. This mountain isn’t Everest. The camps are closer together, and we can reach the summit in just three days and return to Base Camp in two. What if we were to make the trip with the other climbers and then, if Maxwell is fit, we can take another crack at the summit. Two summits in a week and a half. Can we do that?

We can do that, answered Norbu. But I do not know if Mr. Maxwell will be ready.

If he’s not ready when we get back, then he’s done. But remember, he has paid $20,000 to climb this mountain. We’ve got to help him get his money’s worth as best we can.

The weather forecast for next week is not as good as this week. And things change fast.

What if we leave Lhakpa behind, and he brings Maxwell up to Camp One as soon as our client can climb? That way, we may save a day or two not having to come back to Base Camp. Lhakpa is strong. He could carry Maxwell to the summit if he had to.

Norbu did not respond immediately. Where Jay saw Lhakpa’s strength as a climber, Norbu perceived Lhakpa’s weakness of character. Norbu wondered if Jay could ever understand the nuances of Sherpa culture enough to see Lhakpa’s flaws. Even though Jay had spent years in Nepal, he was still an outsider. Norbu’s reservations about Lhakpa were about subtle things. When climbers met a monk to receive blessings for their climb, Lhakpa was not attentive to the prayers. At village festivals, Lhakpa stood in the back of the crowd, laughing loudly and drinking beer. But many men drank at festival times. What was different about Lhakpa? Norbu had seen him pass village elders on the trails without greeting them. Norbu wondered if any of those things were really wrong, yet it seemed to Norbu that Lhakpa lacked humility. Could it be that Norbu felt Lhakpa did not respect him? Was that the problem? Or was Norbu jealous that Jay thought Lhakpa was such a strong climber—even though Norbu had been climbing with Jay for years and not shown weakness? Norbu did not like to think of others’ faults. He only wished Lhakpa were not so brash and that he were more willing to help around the camp.

It might work, Norbu said, without conviction.

Jay studied Norbu for a moment. He valued Norbu’s judgment, but Norbu seemed to be holding back. What’s wrong? the Kiwi asked.

Nothing is wrong. It might work, repeated Norbu.

Jay shrugged. Well then, that’s the plan. I’ll tell Maxwell. You tell Lhakpa.

When Norbu informed Lhakpa of the assignment, Lhakpa’s eyes narrowed. But when he realized Jay had asked for him specifically, pride replaced his skepticism.

All right, Lhakpa agreed, answering as if he were doing Norbu a favor. I can do that.

Maxwell took the news more gratefully. He thanked Jay profusely and guaranteed he would be recovered in time to climb up to Camp One with Lhakpa.

Outside Maxwell’s tent, Nicole looked at Jay seriously and asked, Are you sure this is a good idea?

If Maxwell isn’t better in a couple of days, we will pack up and leave, answered Jay.

What about Norbu and the men?

They are strong. They can handle two climbs.

You know how much responsibility Norbu takes upon himself. What if it’s too much? asked Nicole.

Jay looked up at the summit, and then he turned back to his wife. You’re right. Norbu has an incredible sense of responsibility. It’s what makes him so great at his job.

I worry about him sometimes.

You’re kind to be concerned, but don’t worry. He’s fine.

At dawn, Norbu stood with Jay, three clients, and three other Sherpa guides. In the pink and gold light, they looked far up the trail and could see porters already ferrying tents, food, and gear up to Camp One and High Camp. Those men had started earlier and would climb faster despite being loaded down with almost forty kilos of gear each. No matter how experienced and fit, the clients could never keep up with the Sherpas.

You boys ready? asked Jay. Confidence beamed from his face, and the Americans’ nervousness calmed a bit. Today’s the easy day. Steep, to be sure, but no ropes required, no need for supplemental oxygen. Each of you have a guide, so go at your own pace and don’t use all your energy. Tomorrow and the next day will be harder, and then we will need to stick together to get through the technical parts. Questions?

The clients shook their heads and shifted their feet, ready to move. Jay led the group out of camp. Norbu brought up the rear to assist anyone having trouble.

A few hours and a thousand vertical meters later, the band of climbers trudged into Camp One. The climbing had required increasing effort as the air thinned with each step upward. At this altitude, oxygen was less than half the amount compared to sea level. Norbu and the other Sherpas were accustomed to the thin air, but the clients felt the change keenly. Doctors who studied the effect of altitude on the body said Sherpas and other high-altitude peoples had developed slightly larger hearts to compensate for lower oxygen levels. Visiting climbers claimed those large hearts gave the Sherpa people strength, courage, and happiness.

When Norbu came into camp with the last member of the party, Jay was already sitting on a camp stool, drinking tea. Norbu assisted the guest to his tent, arranged for tea to be delivered, then joined Jay.

What a beautiful day for a climb, said Jay, surveying the surrounding mountains in the clear afternoon sunlight.

A good day, agreed Norbu, with a smile of satisfaction.

Norbu, these are the days that make life worth living. For me, a day climbing is the reward for a month in the office arranging the expedition. But let’s be honest. I haven’t had to do much management in Nepal for the last few years. You’ve been a brilliant helper and a great leader.

Norbu lowered his head—a little embarrassed but also aglow with happiness. I like my work. I earn enough money to support my family and save for my children’s schooling.

You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about the business. With you doing all the organization in Nepal, I have had more time to focus on marketing and getting new clients. I think there is a lot of interest in climbing in India and Pakistan. I’ve even received requests to guide climbs up Mount Vinson in Antarctica. I’d like to expand the business, but then I would not be able to join every expedition. You have been the outfit’s sirdar for six years now, and I think you could easily be the expedition leader. You would probably be better than me.

Norbu blushed. No, no. I am not better than you.

Jay smiled at Norbu’s discomfiture. Well, let’s not argue about that. But how would you like to become my partner? You have summited Everest three times. More importantly, you have turned back twice, which takes a lot more smarts and experience than just trying to reach the top no matter what. What do you say? You manage everything in Nepal, like you’ve already pretty much been doing. I’ll develop the other regions and have a little more time to spend with Nicole and Elle at home. They should like that. I would like that.

What about all that time in the office?

Jay laughed. I’ll get better at it. Plus, Elle’s getting more and more interesting. Maybe there would even be more time to have more kids, maybe a son—a boy to bring to the mountains someday. Jay smiled at the thought, and Norbu smiled with him.

Children are a good thing, replied Norbu. His own children—a son and two daughters—were a little older than Elle. Norbu loved his children more than anything and lived to play with them, dandle them on his knee, and take them to the high summer pastures during the monsoon season—to introduce them to the flowers of that rainy time. The season of no climbing.

Jay talked on about Norbu’s future as a partner in the growing expedition business. The prospect was gratifying to Norbu, not only from a financial aspect but because of the trust Jay had in him. Norbu worked diligently and wisely. Jay appreciated that and reciprocated with respect and confidence.

Of course, you could pick your own sirdar, but what do you think of Lhakpa? He’s a strong climber. Clients like him, and, Jay said with a smile, he likes to be in charge.

Norbu could not help frowning. He does like to tell people what to do. And he is borderline lazy, Norbu thought. Norbu had always tried to shield Jay from Lhakpa’s flaws because Norbu was responsible for the staff. He felt that weakness among any of the outfit’s employees was a reflection upon himself, and he did not want Jay to question his ability to manage the team well. Maybe Norbu had done too good a job of compensating for Lhakpa’s faults, but he wondered why Jay could not see at least some of the things that made Norbu question Lhakpa’s leadership qualities.

Well, it’s your choice, said Jay. Think about it.

Two days later, the climbing party descended back to Camp One. Their summit attempt had been successful. The clients’ elation masked their fatigue. Jay was in a good mood too. He was always happy when things ran smoothly and his clients were satisfied. Hot tea awaited the descending climbers. While the clients rested, Norbu and the other guides and porters kept working. On the mountain, their job of caring for the clients was never done. Norbu checked on the tents before taking refreshment himself. He asked the cook whether Lhakpa and Maxwell had arrived yet. The cook shook his head. This puzzled Norbu. The guide and guest should have arrived at camp by now.

Norbu scanned the small camp again. Porters unloaded gear. The cook readied dinner. The clients and Jay sat on camp stools arranged in a semicircle facing west toward the valley. They laughed and pointed to different peaks. Planning their next expedition—perhaps to Everest farther to the north, Lhotse closer in, or Makalu to the east. To the south, clouds obscured the foothills and lower valleys. But to the west, across the Khumbu, the Himalayas rose in a jagged flow as far as they could see.

Nervous, Norbu could not appreciate the view. He was anxious that he could not see Lhakpa, Maxwell, or the porter who would have accompanied them. Norbu walked back to his pack and dug out binoculars. He picked out a far spot on the trail from Base Camp. His index finger adjusted the ridged focus knob as he slowly followed the trail.

Still he could not see them. Either they were behind an obstruction, or they had not made the climb at all. Maybe Nicole had decided Maxwell had not recovered sufficiently, and he had remained at Base Camp. Norbu walked back to the porters and asked them to set up the radio in his tent. When they were done, Norbu hailed the expedition headquarters down the mountain. Nicole’s voice crackled through the tinny speaker. The quality was better than usual because of the clear weather.

Hi Norbu. Is everyone all right?

We all made the summit. Everyone here is okay. But Lhakpa and Maxwell have not arrived, and I cannot see them on the trail. Did they stay in Base Camp?

Hmm. That’s troublesome, said Nicole. They started later than usual, but they should have arrived by now. Pemba was with them too. Is he there?

No. Pemba is not in camp either. What time did they start?

After seven this morning. Let’s see... Nicole paused. That was eight hours ago. It’s usually about a six-hour trip, right?

Yes. Six hours, replied Norbu. I’ll go scan the trail once more.

Have Jay call me back, okay?

I will tell him. Over.

Norbu wriggled backward out of the small tent and walked quickly to where Jay and the others sat. Jay waved as Norbu approached.

Hey. I see Lhakpa. He’s coming up the trail with Maxwell and someone else.

Pemba, answered Norbu.

Wow. You’ve got good eyes.

I radioed Base Camp. Nicole told me.

You sure called them quickly. Is everything all right?

Norbu almost explained his nervousness but stopped. As much as Norbu was annoyed with