The Road to Salvation: Strange Proverbs and Threshold Guardians

It was a short drive down to Kagbeni, a small village cum town that, given its strategic location between Jomsom and Muktinath, has likely served as a staging post for pilgrimage traffic across the centuries, given the town itself is some eight hundred years old.

I had been aware of Yac Donalds for some time, as it’s one of the few hotels to appear in online searches for the region, but its name, and the many photos posted by other travellers from pre coronavirus days, had not inclined me to want to stay there. There being few other establishments open at that time, I bowed to the inevitable however and had the taxi driver take me there. It was, in fact, a family run hotel in a large rambling traditional house which had been converted some years ago into its current form. I found the rather lurid colour scheme of orange, green and red a bit off putting; also the household dog, being a large, attractive, but poorly socialised husky, that rapidly took advantage of its freedom to roam and any interest shown by travellers to get into everything and everywhere.

The family were nice and friendly however, and there were already some other travellers – cyclists from China – staying there. The old fashioned guest rooms needed a little upgrading, but were cheap and comfortable enough and I was only there for two days anyway. The establishment’s name was a play on the fact that the restaurant’s speciality was yak burgers and yak dishes in general, although I had thought that yak meat was, in fact, illegal, from my time spent several weeks earlier up in Ghandruk. Given that yaks are a species of cattle, their meat is indistinguishable from beef anyway.

Many places in Nepal and particularly Mustang, have a healthy mix of religions, evidenced by Hindu temples and Buddhist shrines and monasteries co existing. The family of the hotel were themselves Buddhist and had nearly finished constructing a small bright temple in the house for private worship when I arrived. There was a large Buddhist monastery in Kagbeni and you would hear the sound of the monks chanting at different times, but especially in the early morning.

The following day I went for a wander up into the medieval part of town, a fascinating quarter of ancient tumbledown stone and clay houses, connected by labyrinthine passage ways everywhere, and where, quite unexpectedly, I turned a corner and happened upon a large strange intimidating figure from more ancient times, which I identified as being a threshold guardian. These characters are of necessity frightening looking statuary which serve to protect householders from evil spirits. With his grotesque face, prominent genitals, and large sword he was likely very effective in doing this! There seemed to be something significant too about dancing yaks. I had observed a hotel with the name in Jomsom, then again in Kagbeni, where what I presumed to be an old proverb was displayed on a sign above the door:

When the clouds’ Shadow meets the wind and yaks start to dance, the[n] wisdom sits on the earth.

Which seemed a combination of such unlikely happenings as to fairly guarantee (and likely explain) why our earth seems so devoid of wisdom!

The village is on the banks of the Kali Gandaki river, which marks the effective border between Low Mustang, accessible to foreigners, and High Mustang on the Tibetan border, requiring complex expensive trekking permits to enter. It’s a strange and beautiful region of high arid mountainscapes, juxtaposed with deep irrigated green valleys, where apples and maize are grown. The region is famous for its apple brandy in fact, a local affordable hooch that the majority of folk hereabouts enjoy. I even saw a bottle of it (and was invited to drink some) during the final stages of preparations for the Buddhist chapel in the hotel. It is a completely clear, rather viscous, and nearly tasteless sort of drink, but with an after effect like a yak has kicked you; however, very effective in warding off boredom and the cold I imagine. I had first tried some the previous year up in Gangotri and also been offered it back in Ghandruk at a local family luncheon.

The morning I left to return to Jomsom coincided with the annual two day festival of Amavasya Tithi Shradda, when the deceased are honoured with pujas by their surviving relatives. It accounted for why the entire town including Yac Donalds had recently filled up with large numbers of travellers. The river bank was crowded with groups of people engaged in conducting their pujas for deceased family members, a vibrant and colourful scene and I was reminded of the famous Día de los Difuntos (Day of the Dead) festivities in Latin American countries, which serve a very similar purpose.

Back in Jomsom, I had to plan my return journey back to Pokhara, but a combination of circumstances and bad weather conspired to make taking a shared jeep back inevitable. And so, after a final day and evening spent enjoying the society, coffee and music of my two friends Sanish and Mahendra, I took my leave and prepared to return to the lower elevations and Phewa Lake. Another long tiring journey ensued of some eleven hours in duration, marked by the usual challenges and interruptions, but we made it finally into Pokhara by nightfall. My adventures on the road to salvation were finally over!