Personal Narrative-A Separate Peace

Loud bickering traveled through the wind as the previously generous man demanded the return of his food. Gompo had shared his sampa and butter wishing to lighten his load and now with no food along with freezing weather the regret boiled up in trenches. “Ado [hey]! You better share with me!“ Gompo stomped around the camp saying, “ Please please please” to one person while turning around and demanding from another his reparations “Remember the sampa I shared with you. You owe me.” With only 10 days into the 30-day trek through the Himalayas and with no assurance of a short trip; the incessant petitions were ignored by the 20 odd people in the group. Their faces turned resolutely away and looked towards the border and whatever hopes they had

A deep silence always surrounded the mountains; even the wind seemed to carry it, spreading it through every valley and cave. We stopped walking at daybreak every day, today when I looked up to see the group stopped I fell onto my backpack and looked around with my elbows in the snow. The sun rose below me seeming to rest on the top of the mountains. Gone was the familiar terrain, the herds of wild yak and horses keeping us company, and the rolling green of the hills. Today the sun was not rising above me. Three years before I actually made it to India, I was sixteen and set out to go to Lhasa. Soñath monastery had been my home since I was eight but I never found it difficult to leave. My friend and I boarded the bus that went from Soñath to Hoyen to Corgay to Labrong to Gompang to Lhasa. Exiting the bus in Lhasa I practically shouted: “Where can we find a guide to India?” “Shut your mouth, stupid” an old woman immediately responded. But we kept asking and eventually, we were given a date and time in hushed

There was the weight of fear of being caught by Chinese soldiers lifted. Soon after crossing I saw a red piece of fabric fluttering in the wind, highlighted by the white of the snow. Crowding around we kicked at the ice and snow to reveal a backpack still attached to the wearer. It looked as if he had laid down to nap, fallen asleep, and frozen to death. We found food and pictures of the man in India in his backpack, a fellow traveler just in opposite directions. The sun shone on one side of a valley nearby leaving rocks unburdened by ice. It didn’t take long for everyone to collect rocks and cover the body. Hopefully, some brave bird will come, flying, and bring him back