JOURNEY - on Mastering Ukemi by Daniel Linden (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

“Okay guys,” I said, “this is the end of the road.”

Chapter 12

Shoshin (Beginner’s Mind)

The end of the road, is not just an expression in this case. The road actually ends and the only way to continue east or north is on foot or on some beast of burden. Jiri is an important starting and stopping point for this part of Nepal because most of the goods sent into the high country are shipped by road from Kathmandu to here and then transported onto the backs of porters for the long trek to the villages on the cusp of the world.

Bim led us to a lodge and took care of checking us in with the manager. We were led to three rooms, side-by-side, and smelling distinctly of an old toilet. I told Bim I wanted a room to myself and he told me that would leave Chris, Curtis and Christian sharing two beds, but he would try to make that happen. It turned out there were only the three rooms available. I resigned myself to the ways of the world and realized that for the next three weeks we would be bound together tooth and tail.

“Okay, I’ll leave it to you guys who will room with me. I don’t snore and have no bad habits. I expect whoever bunks with me to behave likewise. You work it out.” I left and went outside and walked over to a small market stall and bought a beer. It was barely warm and tasted wonderful. I took two more and walked back to the hotel and sat down outside on the veranda and watched the day end. Curtis and Chris showed up a few minutes later and I handed them the other bottles. They both sighed as they sipped and then joined me on the bench.

“I guess we’re officially in the third world,” said Chris.

“You saw what passes for a toilet?” I asked.

“Yeah, and when I asked where I could wash my hands the old lady showed me a bucket behind the back door.”

“At least she understood English,” Curtis said and smiled.

“And they have beer,” I said.

“I think Esra is having second thoughts. This is more primitive than she was expecting. I think she’s kind of, well, I don’t know if pampered is the right word, but she isn’t exactly used to roughing it, I don’t think.” Chris took a drink. “It’s kind of hard to tell since I can’t understand a word she says. Does she really think she speaks English?” he asked

“Well, her English is a lot better than my Turkish. On the other hand I don’t believe that I speak any Turkish, but it is hard to watch and listen and not have a clue what she’s saying. As for her being used to roughing it? Well, I don’t know.” I thought for a second. ”Did you ever see The Thirteenth Warrior?” I asked.

Curtis nodded. So did Chris.

“Remember the scene when they are all lying in a circle and Antonio Banderas says, ‘I am not a warrior…’”

Curtis interrupted me. “…And the little guy, the tough Viking, says ‘But soon you will be…! Hah! Yeah, I get it.”

“I think very soon she will be. Yes.” We settled into our thoughts, then and watched the sun set over the valley roof. It would be long time before it grew seriously dark.. Evenings last long in the high country.

“Is Bim seeing to supper?” I asked.

“He’s talking to the innkeeper,” said a voice from behind me, Celine.

“How’s your sister?” I asked.

“She isn’t happy with the room. She says it smells.”

I laughed. “If it’s anything like my room, it does.”

“In Muslim countries it isn’t usually like this.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation this may be the nicest room you stay in for a while. If we need to use tents we will, and there are some nice, clean inns along the way, always primitive, though. There may be problems and she will just need to adjust. I remember the last time we were traveling behind two large groups and twice ended up sleeping in a stall for yaks and once out in a rock field.” I held my hands up and shrugged.

“She will adjust. She just likes to be the center of attention. She is my father’s favorite and the youngest and has been pampered her whole life.”

At the word, ‘pampered’ Chris sat up and I held my hand up to stop what I knew would be next. Curtis started to laugh, and Celine looked concerned.

“I’m sorry, Celine. I’ve been rude. Can I get you something to drink? A coke? A beer?”

Curtis said, “I don’t think Muslims drink, Sensei.”

Chris said, “She drinks.”

Celine blushed and I realized that much, much more had been going on without me than I had imagined. “Celine..?” I pointed to the stall.

“I’ll have a beer,” she said.

Chris got up and waved a hand at us and went over to the stall. He brought back four more. Esra came walking over to us then and we settled down to storytelling and laughter and the effects of the beer took away some of the bruising we had suffered at the hands of our driver. We relaxed as the evening grew dark.

***

I awoke the next morning to a knock on the door and Bim entered with a bowl of steaming water. A second bowl was brought to Chris who had shared my room. I dug into my kit and found my camp towel, an 18X24 inch microfiber cloth that