Pangkongma village is beautiful.  It sits on a green shelf in a pastoral setting at 9,000 feet.  I am told it has a small population of perhaps 500 people, although I only counted twenty seven dwellings that could not possibly hold that many villagers.

           Dawa’s ancestral house sits high above the village, with a spectacular view of the mountains.  If only they could be seen, for as usual the view has been blocked by low lying clouds.  The twenty foot pole in front is still flying the narrow strip of prayer flag, badly tattered, fluttering in the steady breeze sending it’s silent prayers aloft.

           No one has lived in Dawa’s home for some time and it is in disrepair.  It is an old brick, traditional two story, with one room per story. The wooded shutters shut tight against the elements.  The first story is a real mess as it has been used for a potato and feed storage.  Dawa started a fire in the open pit fireplace on the second level.  He then went to the Buddhist shrine and cleaned and polished the pictures (most of the family shrines that I noticed in the Khumbu had within the collection of pictures one of the Dalai Lama, their spiritual leader, and the King of Nepal).  After cleaning the candle holders, he lit the candles and prostrating himself three times on the floor offered prayers to Buddha.

           Except for the difficulty of getting here, this would be a wonderful place to come and write, study, paint, read, meditate for the summer months.

           Dawa has thought that someday he might be able to use his house as a commercial Tea House.  The trouble is that it is off the beaten path that most trekkers take and the rest fly directly into Lukla to head into the Mera La or