I can see our school from another mountain side, so I know we're close. In an area where few people trek because of the steep terrain and not on the Everest trail, I crossed paths with some young Australians. One said: lady I was just askin myself what the heck we're doing here, but know I gotta know what the hell someone like you is doing here. To j

We have the first flight out @ 6:00 am. With a little luck, today the skies will clear and we'll be in our way.

Lukla is a magical village during the trekking climbing season. As many as 15 planes a day come and go, filled with the energy of 14 passengers-wearing the arrival coats of anticipation-and the departure capes of woven memories. My Sherpa friends have filled the trail with news of technology, school supplies and equipment coming ro their children. I'm trying not to think about the three days up and down, following the donkey pee and poop, and I'll be breathing too hard to complain out loud. Note to self: Keep your eye in the prize.

Dinner, Everest Beer and shopping with friends.

Please world: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

Since the days of Edmund Hillary, Kathmandu's airport has kept it simple. Planes fly in, workers unload duffels onto carts, wheel the carts in, dump the loads on the floor, everyone claims their gear and races through the door flashing their claim numbers. After the earthquake, some do-gooders decided conveyer belts were needed. New system: Conveyer belts swallow up space, workers wheel in the carts and one by one, place the items on the belts which slowly make their way around a loop while hoards of people try to climb over each other to capture their gear. Through the loading door, we could see our stuff piled on the carts, waiting to be doled out. What used to take ten minutes took well over a hellish
 hour. Although the crowd had diminished by the time I took this picture, earlier this had the feel of angry spectators at the World Cup. 

For the first time in my life, I was a "stand out."

Halfway through a fourteen hour fight from Chicago to Qatar, I looked around and suddenly realized I was the star attraction on Qatar Airlines, Flight 866. Along with meeting a family from Toronto who are Toronto Argunaut Fans, I was the only woman with an uncovered head of light curly hair; thus, Mothers and children gathered around me as I walked up and down the aisles to get my circulation going and stood by the bathrooms marching in place to the sounds of crying children, engaged mothers and snoring fathers. The women, children and I played peek a boo, patty cake and head shoulders knees and toes and we laughed, we laughed and we laughed. Laughter can easily become a common denominator whenever people from opposite shores meet.

My layover in the city of Doha, in the state of Qatar, a sovereign country, is a world away from my life on the Columbia River, the only similarity being water. The sidewalk city of high rises host the tallest building in the world, and maye the hottest; yet outside the city is a scene from "Lawrence of Arabia." Their economy is fueled by the third largest natural gas reserves in the world and oil reserves. They have the highest per capita income in the world, so I was not surprised to meet many Nepali's as well as other expatriates, working to send money home.

 

From the skies of Dubi to the hills of the Himalayas

    
From Dubi: Wednesday’s storm canceled Chicago flights, todays brilliant sunshine opened the runways and the skies.  In my state of semi exhaustion, when I arrived in Dubi, I followed a long haired person into the men’s restroom and not one guy in front of overcrowded urinals seemed to mind. I think I just brought "gender neutral bathrooms" to another country. Meanwhile, flying in to Doha  was like entering  another world. My heavy backpacks have two more security belts to go through with tablets, computers, printer…why didn’t someone make a sign for my back: “If you have no patience, get in another line.” On a good note, I met some people from Toronto who are Argo fans and several people from Nepal who work in Dubi but miss their country. What a day!

So much beauty in the world, but this place keeps calling me back.

And this trip, for the first time, I'm taking balls and jump ropes…

…and…hand held microscopes for field trips
plus more tablets, a computer and a printer 

   

Exciting times are coming to this village.

    Let the good times roll…