Page 36 of The Sky Beneath Us
‘Lhakpa was on the Khumbu Icefall when a towering block of ice – a serac – fell from the western side, right where he was working. It triggered an avalanche. The other Sherpas in Base Camprushed on to the icefall to try to help their brothers. They recovered two bodies. But Lhakpa was still unaccounted for.
‘It was devastating for the brothers and cousins who retrieved the two broken, frozen bodies. But in Sherpa culture it’s even worse for the families of those whose bodies can’t be recovered because in the Sherpa faith if the body cannot be given the correct care and respect then the soul might never be at rest. Bereavement and grief are a natural part of our lives, but it helps us survive the devastation of loss if we can observe the rites we believe will help the soul leave the earthly realm and find peace. So you can imagine how distraught we all were – especially Poppy – when word reached us that Lhakpa had been lost.
‘She was determined to go to try to find his body. One of the helicopter pilots summoned for the rescue mission stopped off here at Phortse to pick up more Sherpas to help at Base Camp and Poppy joined them, along with her dad. Helicopter operations are normally forbidden around the Khumbu Icefall because the reverberations can trigger more avalanches in that area, where lumps of the ice on the moving glaciers can easily be destabilised. So, to get to the scene of the disaster, the rescuers had to climb out of the helicopter and hang from a long line to be deposited on to the ice.
‘My husband told me that once he and Poppy had landed, they heard from one of the men who’d been on the icefall when the avalanche struck that Lhakpa had been fixing a ladder over a crevasse, immediately below the serac that had fallen from the side of the mountain. It was terribly dangerous, going back to that place where everything was still shifting and settling, but Poppy was determined to find Lhakpa. She and her dad searched for hours, even after everyone else had given up, and then they came across a deep crack in the ice that had opened up with the immense force of the blow when the ice fell. Poppy was convinced that was where Lhakpa would be. Tshering wanted to be the one to go down, butthe crevasse was narrow, and Poppy insisted to her dad that it would be better if she went in to search. And since he was the stronger of the pair, it made sense that he should hold the rope for her. They quickly set up a fixing point in the ice and rigged the ropes for Poppy’s abseil. They knew they had to work fast, because it was late morning by now, so the air was warmer, beginning to make things even more unstable.’
Themi can’t speak for a few moments as she tries to hold back the tears that have started to flow. I take her hand in mine and hold it tightly.
When she can continue, she says, ‘She found him deep in the ice. My husband felt her tugging on the rope to let him know that. He let out more slack so she could tie Lhakpa’s body to the rope to bring him up to the surface. Then he felt Poppy start to climb, and he busied himself managing the ropes. But all at once the fixing point broke as the ice sheared. He tried desperately to take the strain but couldn’t hold them. He hung on to that rope for dear life – there was no way he’d let go – but the surface was slippery now and he began to be pulled towards the opening.’
She stops again, struggling to say the next words.
‘Poppy was experienced enough to have realised what was happening. She knew she would drag her father to his death in the crevasse and then there’d have been three missing bodies, putting others at risk if they tried to recover them.’ She pauses again, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand.
‘And so my husband felt his daughter cut the rope, falling to her death alongside her husband’s body in that deep, icy grave. The other Sherpas who heard his cry of anguish say it’s a sound that’s seared on to their souls. They scrambled to stop him from trying to climb into the crevasse himself. It was far too dangerous by then, the ice was creaking and groaning as it shifted around them, and they dragged him from the icefall. They promised him they’d comeback early the next morning to try to recover Poppy and Lhakpa, when the night air had restabilised the ice. But by the next day, the movement of the ice had closed up the crevasse and it was impossible to get the bodies out.’
It’s my turn to cry now, big, ugly, gasping sobs that shake my body, and Themi wraps her arms around me, our tears mingling as she presses her cheek against mine.
‘How do you come back from something like that?’ I ask at last, when I can manage to speak again.
Her smile is filled with sadness as she replies. ‘I think you know the answer to that already. You go on because you have no choice. Baby Pema had lost her mum and dad in one fell swoop and we had to look after her. She kept us all going, Violet, Tshering and me. Tshering was never the same again. He’d often wake in the night, crying out as he relived that terrible moment when he felt Poppy cut the rope. The only time he was at peace was when he was holding Pema. She could always make him smile. He never climbed in the mountains again and he died a few years later. It was peaceful in the end. His heart, which had endured so much pain and so much love, simply stopped beating one night.’
She raises her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she watches the eagles circling above us. ‘You remember how Violet used to say you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, slowly, slowly, until you reach a place where you can see the sky beneath you again? Well, that’s what we did.’
She reaches down again to brush the bud of the tiny blue poppy growing in the shelter of the rocks, then gestures towards the barren expanse of the scree above us. ‘Life is like that scree sometimes, isn’t it? It seems bleak and dead. But if you look really carefully, you’ll find little signs of life. Tiny, fragile plants, like this one, determined to push their way into the light. Determined to change the desolation into something else – a place where there isstill hope and beauty. Pema was our constant reminder of that in the desolation after we lost Poppy and Lhakpa.’
She reaches over to take my hand in hers again and gives it a squeeze. ‘Unless we’re incredibly fortunate, sooner or later we all live through such times. Often, it’s something personal and individual. But just at the moment I think the pandemic has created an avalanche of sadness for the whole world. So it’s all the more important to look for these tiny signs of life and hope that keep us going.’
I nod, pulling a tissue from my pocket to blow my nose and wipe my eyes.
‘I hate that so many Sherpas still choose to climb,’ she continues. ‘The mountain gods have been angered by the disrespect shown to them and no matter how much we pray and make offerings, sooner or later they show their anger by taking lives. But we still have such limited opportunities to make money and support our families that many continue to risk it. Women as well as the men, these days. And it’s the old and the young who are left behind to manage as best we can. One good thing to have come out of this pandemic, for us at least, is that all the guides have come home now the climbing season’s been cancelled. The village feels like it did in the old days, before there was the opportunity to stand on the heads of the gods and be paid for it. For the time being, everyone is home, and everyone is safe here. That makes us happy, even if we will struggle to make ends meet this year. The future is very uncertain for us all.’
Just then we hear Dipa and Pema’s laughter, carried on the breeze as they make their way up the hill towards us, dispelling the sadness. They hold up bags bulging with the foodstuffs they’ve foraged, waving them in triumph. Even Pema is a little out of breath when they reach the rocks along the lower edge of the scree and sink down beside us, but that still doesn’t stop the pair of themfrom chattering on about the dishes they’ll be able to cook with the mushrooms and herbs they’ve gathered.
Then Pema must notice my red nose and tear-blotched cheeks because she puts out her hand and pats my knee. ‘Granny has been telling you some sad stories, I think?’ she says.
I nod, feeling my mouth tremble and my throat close again as I think of how she lost both her parents so tragically.
She smiles at me, her dark eyes shining with compassion. ‘I know how hard it is for you right now, Daisy. We Sherpas understand pain and sorrow, so we’re right here with you in this. Whatever comes. One of the things we all share, though, is Violet’s resilience. She led the way for us, fixed the ropes and set the ladders, so we could follow. So we could keep on with the journey she began all those years ago. No matter what the world throws at us, we will adapt and survive by helping each other. It’s the love in our hearts that makes us invincible, isn’t it, Granny.’
Themi nods, pushing herself up to stand and brushing a few flecks of lichen from her apron. ‘Your great-granny taught you well, didn’t she, Pema. And now I think it’s time we took those supplies back to the village so you can show Daisy how to prepare the mushrooms for drying.’
We walk back towards Phortse in single file and when we reach that first viewpoint over the village, we all stop for a few minutes beside the little pile ofmanistones with their bright wrapping of new prayer flags. I realise this memorial isn’t just for Violet, but for Poppy and Lhakpa as well. I press the palm of my hand flat against the incised characters on one of the slabs, sending my love to the three of them.
I listen carefully as the wind gusts around us, but I don’t think I can hear their voices among those of the wind walkers. I get the sense that they’re at peace, that they lived their lives without regret.And now the love of their friends and family has laid them to rest, regardless of whether or not their bodies were given the last rites.
Poppy must have had so many things go through her mind when she felt the rope give and her father struggle to hold her as she swung in the void of that crevasse: her love for her tiny daughter and her parents making her want to fight to live, but outweighed by the knowledge that she’d lost Lhakpa and her attempt to recover his body could kill her father too. And so I think she must have made her impossible decision without regret, reaching for her knife and cutting the rope.
Because, as Themi said, Poppy and Lhakpa always were inseparable. Even in death.
PART THREE
Violet’s Journal
THURSDAY, 5THSEPTEMBER, 1935
Themi and I have spent the past week up at the Valley of Flowers, staying in one of the yak herders’ huts there to save us the walk to and from the village each day. Themi is perfectly able to manage the distance, which is only a couple of miles, but it still takes us quite a time. Although she trots along at a good pace at my side on her sturdy little legs, she stops so frequently to wonder over a flower or a beetle that she’s spotted that our progress can be slow. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose! She’s completely outgrown the beautiful leather shoes Hetty sent, of course, and they’ve long since been exchanged for a pair of yak hide boots made for her by Palden. I remember, fondly, the days when she learned to walk by clinging to the hem of my striped apron to pull herself up. She was soon tottering around with the other children in the village, helping pick stones out of the fields and playing games in the dust. I’ve put one of the shoes in a niche in the wall behind the fireplace. It’s a memory of the bothy in the Scottish hills, another way of remembering Callum and keeping him with us. Whilst I don’t believe any evil spirits could harm my daughter in this place, I like to think of her daddy still watching over her.
