In the fall of 2014, I went on a three-part trek in north central Nepal that included the Tamang Heritage Trail, the Langtang Valley and the Gosainkund Lakes — not suspecting that only half a year later, a 7.8 magnitude earthquake would cause utter destruction and loss of life in this transcendent region
Night Butterfly
PROLOGUE
In the ancient village of Gatlang, on our first night on the trail, I photograph a large night butterfly, its yellows and browns standing out against the blue wooden doors of our room. A lowly cousin of the more colorful butterfly, it is precisely this insect that flies at night that is perceived as a creature of mystery in many cultures, a messenger of the spirit world. On the Caribbean island where I grew up, large black moths were bearers of bad tidings. This night butterfly seems innocent, beautiful, it could not possibly have foreshadowed the 7.8 magnitude earthquake that destroyed most of the old houses in Gatlang, only half a year later.
THE TAMANG HERITAGE TRAIL
Gatlang is a Tamang village on the Tamang Heritage Trail, newly established by the Nepal Tourism Board to bring income from tourism to communities off the more popular trekking routes. The trail is billed as an opportunity to get to know the culture of the Tamangs, an ethnic group believed to originate in Tibet generations ago. They are close to Tibetans in language, religious practices and dress, especially the Tamangs who live in these northern villages near the Tibetan border. The area has a large population of more recent migrants and refugees from Tibet and we observe much traffic of people and merchandise on the dirt road to Tibet along the Bhote Khosi - the “Tibetan Stream” – where we start our trek.
The Tamang Heritage Trail is perceived as easy by some trekkers, as it stays at lower altitudes, below three thousand meters. Each village, however, seems to be on a different ridge, with deep valleys in between, often with an altitude difference of close to a thousand meters. For my friend Danit and me, it is an excellent warm-up exercise to get us in shape for the higher elevations on the other two parts of our trek.
After a long day of walking up and down, we are relieved to catch sight of the stone buildings of Gatlang, huddled together below us, their roofs covered by traditional wooden shingles – as opposed to the more common corrugated sheets of tin. The houses, with elaborately carved wooden panels around doors and windows, are built in rows, across a sloping hillside and wooden ladders lead to the family rooms above the animal stables. After the earthquake’s destruction, it is to be seen how this distinctive architecture and way of life will be maintained.
The first guesthouse in Gatlang was communal, its income divided among the villagers who ran it jointly. However, we are told it no longer operates, as individual families prefer to run their own homestays. Our homestay, offering a more intimate experience than the large guesthouses on the popular trails, is very simple, with an outdoor squatting toilet and no showers. A lovely family receives us in their kitchen, the main room of the house, where everyone gathers around the cooking stove. Just outside our door, the white summit of Langtang Lirung peeks behind a large stone cairn - and will be trailing us throughout our trek.
We reach the springs of Tatopani – meaning “hot water” – towards the end of our second day, just as it begins to rain. From our balcony, we see the fog rising from the valley, hiding the houses, turning the trees into silhouettes. Then the thunder starts and the downpour. We spend the evening snuggling up around the woodstove in the family room.
The morning, on the other hand, is glorious and we eagerly join the locals bathing at the hot springs where steaming hot water spurts out of the walls, gradually filling the pools, while scores of prayer flags, called ‘wind horses’ in Tibetan, ride blessings into the air. Truly a spiritual cleansing. Villagers trek from far away to spend several days at Tatopani, believing in the healing power of the waters.
The Nagathali ridge is the highest point on the Tamang Heritage Trail. At dawn, we climb a hill behind our guesthouse to watch the sunrise and get a view of majestic snow mountains – I am thrilled to recognize Mt Manaslu and Ganesh Himal from a trek three years earlier, as well as the much closer Langtang Lirumg.
The walk from Nagathali to Briddhim takes us again on thousand-meter descents and ascents, crossing fierce mountains streams in the green valleys.
Briddim is a center of the Tamang community movement and about half of its forty-three houses offer homestays. It is the home of Lhakpa, our guide, and we visit his mother, who cooks us delicious potatoes on a little fire on the floor. Lhakpa gives us a tour of the village that is a Buddhist pilgrimage site, as Guru Rinpoche, is known to have meditated in a nearby cave on his way from India to establish the first Buddhist monastery in Tibet. Lhakpa shows us the courtyard outside the main gompa, where mani dances are held in costumes and masks, to celebrate Tibetan New Year.
Falling in love with Briddim, we spend an extra day there, much of it in the warm kitchen of our homestay, listening to stories, watching our hosts prepare food, learning how to make the alcoholic rakshi and Tibetan butter tea. And most of all, receiving a special mantra from our host, who is a sought-after Tamang spiritual healer and holds court in the same kitchen.
The fields around Briddim are lush, growing wheat, millet, maize, potatoes and soybeans. Cows are kept and traded. Lahkpa tells of walking to the upper regions of the Langtang valley, bringing back a yak to mate with cows in Briddim and breed the sturdier Dzo, walking in total darkness, so as not to distract the yak and turn him wild.
THE LANGTANG VALLEY
The high route via Sherpagaon takes us to the second section of our trek – the Langtang Valley. Established in 1971, it is Nepal’s oldest Himalayan national park. Most of the villagers on the Langtang trail make their living from tourism and its guesthouses are much larger and better equipped to Western tastes than the Tamang homestays.
At first we walk through a lush forest, till the trees gradually give way to shrubs and pastures, already turning to fall colors at these higher altitudes. On our second night in this valley, we sleep at the mountain village of Langtang, that was completely buried by a mud and ice avalanche in the wake of the 2015 earthquake and more than three hundred people lost their lives.
After acclimating to the altitude, we climb higher, past long mani walls, while the valley narrows and the mountains come closer, till we are surrounded on three sides by towering white peaks at Kianjin Gompa. It is like being in an amphitheater of snow and ice. No wonder there is a Buddhist sanctuary at this serene location that beaming with the spirit of place.
A second day at Kianjin Gompa allows us to explore the glacier and the valley strewn with white river stones, just before the meandering rivulets of snowmelt turn into the Langtang Khola. Downriver, the Langtang Khola turns into the Trishuli, after being joined by streams from both the Tamang Heritage Trail and the Gosainkund Lakes, and ultimately flows into the Ganges.
THE GOSAINKUND LAKES
We return along the Langtang Khola, the same route we took on our ascent, until we reach a bridge over the mountain stream and embark on the third - and highest - section of our trek. Our guide takes us through forests that are a nature reserve for the red panda, but we spot only a few langur monkeys.
At Laurabina Yak, already at an altitude of 3,910 meters, the ground is covered with snow and the mountain ranges our guidebook promised us remain hidden in the clouds. We follow the pilgrims’ trail like a yellow brick road, through a stern, black landscape in the mist, reaching Gosainkund Lake just before sunset.
Prayer flags and Shiva shrines abound at the lake that is holy to both Buddhists and Hindus. In the middle of the lake there is a black rock believed to be the head of Shiva, who according to legend created this lake by piercing a glacier with his trident, obtaining water to quench his thirst, after he had consumed poison. During the full moon festival in August, thousands of believers come here to worship and bathe in the waters that are believed to wash away their sins.
On our way down the next morning, visibility is perfect, and the snow-capped mountains spread out in front of us shining in their full glory - from the Dhaulagiri and the Annapurnas in the far west, to Manaslu, Ganesh Himal and Langtang Lirung.
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EPILOGUE
Our trek did not cross the mountain pass at Gosainkund into Helambu, but returned to the Langtang Khola by a different route, almost marking a full circle. I think of the night butterfly I photographed in Gatlang, on the first night of our trek, and realize our Gosainkund route is like a wing of that night butterfly, with the Tamang Heritage Trail forming the other wing, and the back and forth route along the Langtang Khola being the moth’s body with its tentacles.
Moreover, we walked both semi-circles - be it irregular ones - in the clockwise direction - the sacred direction of the earth’s rotation - so that the night butterfly shape of our trek resonates with the Tibetan Buddhist ritual of circumambulation, a ritual that enacts the endless cycles of rebirth. I would like to think now - in retrospect - exemplifying the rebirth of the Langtang area, after the earthquake.
Link to my story on the Maptia site: https://maptia.com/ritamendesflohr/stories/night-butterfly