From my Journal
Adventures with Khumbu
May 2009
On the afternoon of April 17th, we had arrived in Lukla, a town at 9,500 feet where there is a small airport - built by Sir Edmund Hillary, actually. It was the night before our flight back to Kathmandu. We were feeling so good, amazed at ourselves, in awe of where we had been, how we had gotten there - on our own two feet - and we were sooo very ready for hot showers, normal food, clean clothes and all the amenities of the modern world (except pollution and traffic!) that we would soon find in Kathmandu. Little did I know that my life might dramatically change that day. It already had changed almost a year ago, last June when my kitty, my Hungarian kitty friend, Frederika, passed away. Life had not been the same since, and today it would again take a rather different and unique turn.
At the Lodge in Lukla where we always stay and where the owner, Pemba Nuru, is a friendly and familiar face - I was enjoying my milk tea with some popcorn. They make the best milk tea there at that lodge. Mmm. Pemba Nuru came into the dining room, a small wood room lined with a few windows, cushioned, built-in benches along three walls with narrow wobbly tables in front of them. There is a cast iron, wood-burning (or yak-dung-burning) stove in the middle of the room. The fourth wall had a wooden display case with some canned and packaged foods inside, leafy greens, tomatoes and onions in bowls on the counter top, and a healthy supply of beer in the windowed cupboards above.
Pemba Nuru was holding a small puppy. "Look what I found yesterday," he said as he arrived. He crossed the room and placed this small and adorable puppy carefully into my lap. "Heather, you should take him home to America with you!" he said, laughing as if making a joke.
There was no possible way I was going to take a dog home to America with me. Not any way. It was not at all possible. Pemba Nuru was being silly! Taking a dog home to America was not even ever an option. But he, this small little doggie was...awfully cute, and so small I wondered if he needed his mother.
Pemba Nuru told me he had found the dog at the Lukla Airport down the street (no cars up here, only small planes). He said the dog had barbed wire around his neck and had been crying, trying to get it off. Pemba Nuru helped the little thing and brought the dog home to his lodge. It was now the next day when the dog met me.
My trekkers and I were flying back to Kathmandu early the next morning. There was no time to even consider transporting a dog - even to Kathmandu. It would be completely impossible. "I named him Khumbu," Pemba Nuru said.
Solo Khumbu is the land of the Sherpas, the region around Mt. Everest, and also the name of the Khumbu Glacier that comes off Everest. "Perfect," I thought to myself. What a wonderful name for a little Sherpa doggie from Lukla. He was so cute, adorably curled up on the bench beside me, in my lap, looking for things to eat on the floor. Oops, he peed.
The next morning arrived - and after petting the fuzz-ball most of the evening before, I had to say good-bye. I was suddenly sad. He was so young and unaware of his predicament. The life of a dog in Nepal is not the best. No way! Taking him to Kathmandu would be completely crazy. Nope - it was not anything to consider. Bye-bye my little friend.
Moments later, I found myself back in blurry, traffic-filled Kathmandu, showering at the hotel first thing, of course. That shower was worth 15 days of dirtiness. Ahhh. What a luxury a HOT shower is! Mmmm. The next few days my travel partners and I were completing our tour, visiting some other major sites and happenings in the Kathmandu Valley before our international flights home to the other side of the planet.
Maybe three or four days later, we happened to be sitting at the hotel in the evening, chatting on the verandah over some beers and snacks - when who should appear but Nwang Puri, our trekking guide on this trip. We knew he would be arriving in Kathmandu one day soon, but it wasn't sure which day. He approached, his dark silhouette with the light from the open hallway behind him. Very soon I noticed, in his two hands he held the PUPPY from Lukla. Was it possible?! Khumbu was in Kathmandu!? Nwang Puri lifted the little thing, paws flying and nearly hurled him through the air and again he was in my lap. "You should take him home with you," Nwang Puri said.
I was stuck. How would I ever get the dog back to Lukla? I couldn't leave him in Kathmandu! The life of a street dog must be about as bad as it gets in this world. Life for a dog in the mountains wouldn't be so good either.. It was at this point that I somewhat reluctantly - and quite fearfully!! - became committed to the well being of this little being. I was responsible. What was Khumbu going to do in Kathmandu? Nwang Puri said he had carried him in his coat and no one saw him on the plane! How was this possible?!
First things first, I carried the little bity thing down to the reception desk to ask if I could keep the doggie in my room. I promised over and over, I would clean everything - no problem. I would potty train him. I would take care that the room was spic-and-span when I left. I pleaded and promised, and they let him stay.
In my room, 307, I put newspaper on the floor in the bathroom and encouraged Khumbu to "Go pee pee" there! He did a few times and in other places a few other times... It was short carpet, easy to clean. I found myself scrubbing often, and just as often he peed in the bathroom too. There was no tub, so the shower just went all over the tile floor. It was easy cleaning the bathroom every morning. While I was at it, I showered Khumbu too. The first couple of days he smelled something like a trash bin.
Living with a dog for almost two weeks in Kathmandu was not easy. He had to go with me everywhere. I had some Sherpa friends baby sit him for a few days while I raced to the fancy supermarket where the diplomats shop to buy doggie food, bones, a leash. I found a small carrying case that looked like it was made for a toy stuffed animal. I bought it anyway at a hefty price.
My trekkers and I were touring a few more sites. We were supposed to go elephant riding in Chitwan in Southern Nepal, however, unfortunately, due to another of many political strikes in that area, that part of our trip was canceled. Darn it! Khumbu came back to me a day early, limping! Apparently his leg had been shut in a door. And these young Sherpa boys also told me he had fallen off a ladder. A ladder!? Did they mean stairs? No, they assured me it was a ladder.
At this point there was no way I was leaving this animal in Nepal.
Off to the vet we went. He could not be reached by phone - because his phone was not working for the exact three days I was trying to call him!! This particular vet caters to the diplomats and foreigners living in Nepal who travel with their American pets, guinea pigs, hamsters, dogs, cats - globally. He also charges a lot. Little Khumbu fast became a very expensive mutt, and the bill was growing exponentially. I called the US Embassy - I needed a health certificate, rabies shots, distemper, de-worming pills, a "hard shell" carrying case...toys, a harness. I spent an hour at the tailor watching the man sew together a small harness with buckles just Khumbu's size -- only to have it "lost" when he was falling off ladders with the doggie sitters. (!)
By now my trekkers had left for America. I was on my own waiting for my flights which were still a few days away. Each day Khumbu and I scoured Kathmandu in search of green grass. We found a few green things, but every patch of grass and every bush and green thing - had trash in and around it. I had never really noticed all this trash everywhere! Yikes. I know Kathmandu is not pristinely clean like America! - but couldn't they just at least have one small patch of green grass?! Nope.
We found a field nearby, and I took Khumbu there each day to exercise a little - to pee in the grass - to be a doggie for a while. Of course even though I had found some Pedigree dog food, his scavenging instincts were dictating mostly. He picked up every piece of trash, every gross, sticky, slimy, smelly thing he found, and my fingers were constantly in his mouth pulling chicken bones out and who knows what else. Large femur bones of water buffalo too! Where did all these bones come from? Actually Kathmandu might just be a doggie paradise - there was some kind of bone in nearly every shrub! Some were bigger than Khumbu's head!
I have already decided that on my next trip to Nepal, I will bring with me a giant American RAKE. With this I will go to that field and rake up all the trash - out of one corner of that field at least and make ONE patch of green grass. Maybe the locals will see how nice it could be.
As my flight date approached, I was very nervous to fly. At the last minute, the day before, Thai Airlines demanded I get Khumbu a 'microchip'. Even though no one in Nepal knows what a microchip is - nor did they have any of the computerized equipment to read a microchip - Khumbu still had to have one. Thus we made yet another expensive trip across town in the taxi to visit the expensive vet whose office is next door to the zoo. Khumbu now comes with a 'number', but as of yet that number is not attached to me. I have to figure that out.
The morning of the start of our FIVE! flights had arrived. Khumbu seemed very wise to everything. I think he knew he was going to America. "I'll do whatever you say", he seemed to be thinking. Instead of barking the entire time we were in line at security, to get into the airport, in line getting airport tax, in a longer line to check in for the flight, in a line at immigration, in line at more security - Khumbu was quiet. He knew - and I had been telling him for days - he HAD to behave!!!
At the airport I had to pay more $$$ for traveling with a doggie. No one had yet looked at any of his papers, his health certificate, his rabies certificate, his microchip number - all the things I had worked so hard to get for him. Instead we made lots of friends, especially kids and airline workers. The woman next to me on the plane couldn't stop checking on Khumbu. "How's he doing?" she asked again and again. He was under the seat in front of me in his box. Khumbu was great. On the first flight from Kathmandu to Bangkok, Khumbu didn't bark once. No problems.
We landed in Bangkok. My big luggage stayed at the airport, waiting for the next flight - the next day!! We had an overnight in Bangkok. I had to get a "transit visa" for Khumbu. The authorities checked ALL his papers, and told me I had to pay the "permit fee". Oh no?! 50 bhat - just one dollar. Ahh. Good.
Khumbu had a little time to run around (no green grass yet) before we got on the airport bus to head downtown Bangkok. I left the big, hard carrying case at the airport which had all sorts of official papers taped to it. We traveled lightly in the smaller 'soft' case on the airport bus. I told Khumbu that they don't usually allow animals on the bus - and he seemed to listen, and he behaved even when we got stuck in a two hour!! traffic jam! We sat in the back where other passengers didn't see us. I let him out of the carring case, and he mostly slept on the seat beside me.
Once we were finally downtown, I carried Khumbu in his case to my usual hotel. They said - "NO way! to animals." Darn. We walked a ways down the road, where lots of backpackers from around the world congregate, and found another place that let us in!! It was already dark, around 9 by now so we were glad we found a place. After putting our things down in the AC room, we were soon back on the very HOT streets, heading to the air conditioned Seven-Eleven. I saw hot-dogs cooking on metal roller things, but being vegetarian I wasn't sure quite what to do. I asked an employee for a hot-dog without the bun. He put it in a baggie - and a wine cooler and chips for me - and we were soon back at our little AC hotel room, overlooking the busy street below having a fun little slumber party together, me and my doggie.
After devouring the hot-dog in about one bite, Khumbu spent the rest of the evening playing with the ball that rolled nicely around on the shiny white tile floor. We slept well and even paid half price ($10) to stay in the room until 2PM the next day rather than their usual check out time which was 11. We watched TV and revved ourselves up for FOUR more flights!
We went out for a quick and hot spin in the little green park that lines the Chao Phraya River where there is nicely trimmed GREEN grass. However, we soon got the "whistle". I looked up to find two park policemen heading our way in a hurry, motioning that there were "No dogs allowed!" What's a dog to do?
Back at the international airport, China Airlines would "Not break the rules" and would not allow Khumbu to fly in the cabin with me. OH no!!! Having learned from my sister, who travels frequently with three small children, that crying helps - I tried it. I started crying, holding up the line, hoping someone would HELP. "I cannot let him go in the cargo area. I cannot!" I said.
Those employees for China Airlines were NOT going to budge. I tried and tried and even spent so much time - that the flight departure time was fast approaching! Finally, I signed their dumb form that stated that I would not hold China Airlines liable for any loss or damage to my Khumbu during the flight!!! How dare they make me sign such a thing. It was pure torture. "We will not break the rules," the compassionless lady said. "The pilot will turn on the heat in that part of the cargo area where your dog will be," she added.
"But what if the pilot forgets," I cried.
That did it. She almost lost her cool. She said, "It is the pilot's DUTY! He will not forget!" I think those were the last words spoken. I still cried...and had to say good-bye to my furry friend. We had not been separated for over a week now, and I had to throw him into the dungeons of a China Airlines Boeing 747. That part was awful. The lady had promised me that at the layover in Taipei the ground staff would give Khumbu food and water. I had taped little Tupperware jars to the top of his cage with both water and food.
The vet had given me a tranquilizer for him...which I had so far not used. I was worried that if Khumbu had taken one in Bangkok, he may be asleep during the hour layover in Taipei - and thus not have any food and water then during the next TEN!! hour flight from Taipei to Los Angeles. What to do...?
We flew four hours to Taipei. Here we had only an hour layover. This was where I decided to give Khumbu his tranquilizer - but only after he had had some food and water! Of course they wouldn't let me go down to the cargo area to visit with Khumbu during the layover. Instead I managed to convince one of the China Airlines employees to take the pill which I had mashed inside a piece of goupy cheese - which I then transferred over to his finger. Please take this to my puppy! I knew Khumbu would eat the cheese. That man was not at all too thrilled - but because I was about to cry - he agreed to do it.
He returned a while later, somewhat happy and proud to have found the dog who was the only animal on the flight. "A little black dog with white paws, right? He ate it up!" the man told me.
Now ten more hours in the air. Poor baby. I hope he slept. I could hardly bare thinking of him down below in the dark, cold cargo area where it was probably so loud! Poor baby, stuck in his box all that time.
Finally - I did think the day would never come! - we landed in Los Angeles. Again there were the usual lines...immigration, passports. I declared my puppy immediately to the passport man - who said, "Not yet, do that at customs."
More waiting and confusion with a million foreigners converging on US soil in the baggage claim area. Suitcases piled high on old carts, more suitcases spilling out onto endless conveyers, too many people, all fashions of ethnic dress. Where would my Khumbu be??
I heard barking - everyone in that globally sized room heard barking. Khumbu!! I ran to his box which had come out of the elevator. We cried together. If I reached in - I feared he'd soon be out, running frantically, adding to the pandemonium of "high security" travel these days! He barked the whole way - in that endless line, piled high on top of all my suitcases on the cart. It was now obvious I had something to declare - and off I was, breaking from the Green Line, racing toward the less chaotic - Red Line.
Everyone wanted to see the puppy so I turned his cage here or there for the customs officers to get a nice view of him barking. "Do you have dog food," one yelled.
"I do." I frantically dug through my various luggages to find it. They read the label and saw the Pedigree was made in India - nope, they would have to take it, incinerate it.
"Do you have enough food to get home," they kindly asked - and I did, a smaller travel stash in a separate bag. They let me keep that. In less than a minute, my customs form was stamped, and they waved me on.
"I can go?" I asked.
"Yup, out those doors and turn left on the street, and you'll find a little grassy area. Your dog will love that," one woman told me.
Khumbu and I rolled our pile of suitcases onward. No one ever even once looked at his health certificate, his rabies vaccines nor his microchip. All the papers were still in their envelope as if they never existed.
The travelers with carts piled high with suitcases were in greater numbers on the other side of the customs gate. Khumbu's barking came in handy here. People in front of us turned. "Coming through!" Khumbu barked. They and their carts got out of our way. We were cruising so fast. My little baby needed out of his box. Maybe finally we were nearing green grass...with no bones!?
We found it. Khumbu and I danced the dance of joy in that grass. I remember well. We spent a long time, hugging, laughing, eating, peeing. Khumbu was in America! He had proudly become an American dog that day! I managed to clean out his box, new newspaper. The water and food dishes on top were still taped and untouched. The ground staff in Taipei never gave him anything - except that little bit of cheese.
Khumbu drank and drank and ate and ate. He finally stopped barking. But we weren't there - HERE - yet. TWO more flights - first to Minneapolis and then to Detroit with a few hours before and between flights. In the American airports, we found the large handicapped bathrooms to be quite convenient. These are separate rooms, so I could let Khumbu out of his box. If I said, "Go pee pee," he would! Then I could clean it up with paper towels...water...all clean. Of course at one point Khumbu had a disgusting wad of toilet paper he had found on the floor - which was now in his mouth, and I had to fish it out! Yucky doo!
Fearing he may be going in the cargo area any minute, he started barking when we got in line to board the next flight. He barked all the way up until take off - from under the seat ahead of me. The other passengers told me it was better than listening to a baby crying. Once we took off from LA, there was no more barking all the way to Detroit. On that last fight from Minnesota, Khumbu couldn't believe we had yet one more flight to go - but he said: if this is what I have to do to be an American doggie - I'll do it!
The woman I sat next to on that flight had also been on the same flight from Los Angeles. I asked her if she had heard Khumbu barking, and she said she had. She also had this to say: "You're going to get that dog home, and he's going to chew and eat everything you own, and he's going to look at you and say -- You can't take me back."
Khumbu is HERE in Ann Arbor now, chewing to his heart's content. He is thoroughly enjoying all the green lush grass he could ever imaging, and he is having the time of his life being an American dog. The toys are unlimited, so many shoes, dog food 24-7, five/six kinds of treats, rawhide. The list is long.
I remember talking to one woman in the lobby at the hotel in Kathmandu who had asked about my Khumbu as she saw me carrying him around everyday. When I told her the story, she said: "That's life."
SEE PHOTOS OF KHUMBU HERE
Sincerely,
Heather O'Neal
Of Global Interest LLC Adventure Travel
The Eighth Street Trekkers' Lodge B&B
Ann Arbor, Michigan
(734) 369-3107
http://www.ofglobalinterest.com
A sign posted at the vet's office in Nepal:
"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." -- Mahatma Gandhi
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