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Tea House Proprietors

(from sunburn) - very funny, or maybe it is just the high altitude getting to me.

             There is a porter watching me write this, so maybe I should make an effort and write neater.  Illiteracy runs over 70 percent in the Nepalese language and much higher in English so there is virtually no chance that the two eyes watching can read what I am writing.  He is just curious.

             Being somewhat competitive and not wanting to slow anyone down, I kept up with the porters on the trail today, and no one part of my body fell apart:  all of it did. 

              Walking along the rocky trail at about 7000 feet, the clouds hung low, touching the shrubbery and grasses with their wetness.  The air was warm.  The cool greenery brushed my bare legs.

             There was a feeling of oily moisture just below my crotch.  Upon closer examination there was also a great deal of blood; no pain, just the blood.  The leach had his fill and then dropped off.  I never realized it.  Did I ever bleed.  Bled right through my cutoffs.  The bugger got me good; it looks as if I’ve been through a war zone.  The little nematodes inject a very effective anti-coagulate and it took a little while to staunch the flow.  I am told one can feel some initial pain when they first latch on, but my body has been in one big pain, more then enough to mask all the little pains.

             No sooner had the bleeding stopped when Dawa asked me to go ahead a ways.  I didn’t have a clue why, but the urgency in his voice told me to get moving - fast.  I trotted forward, the heavy pack pounding against my back.  I turned around just in time to see Dawa pick up a stone and place a well aimed shot at a village dog that was sneaking up behind me, teeth bared, ready to finish the job the leach had begun.

            The Leaches in this area are tiny fellows, no bigger than the head of a pin. They hang out on the leaves of bushes and trees and when they feel your heat they  stretch out a half inch and attempt to affix themselves to some part of you, or they will crawl up your boots and attack from this direction.  Since my encounter with the little leach, I have been careful in examining my legs.  Dawa has offered to lead the way in order to knock the little guys off the bushes before they have a chance to get to me.  Talk about a sacrificial lamb!

          Many people are on the trail, not only the locals and the working porters, but trekkers as well.

A Modern Tea House

                                  
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