Five-minute rad: Stephen Alldridge gets first-hand experience on what it's like to be a porter in Nepal.
While volunteering in eastern Europe, my partner and I decided to take a short trek in the Himalayas while we were on that side of the globe. Having limited time available, we booked through a popular company so we could carry our own gear but still have the trek organised when we arrived in Nepal.
A trek briefing was conducted in the hotel lobby where we were advised to leave our lightweight (2kg) tent behind as they would carry an 8km model for us along with a bunch of super-sized mattresses, requiring us to carry only clothes and sleeping bags. Our friend from America arrived and the tour began with a short bus ride just out of town where wicker baskets were tossed from the top of the rustic bus and piles of equipment loaded into each by small boys – yes, boys, as the youngest porter was 16 years old and perhaps five feet tall.
I felt a little embarrassed as there was three of us and nine of them: the guide, his right-hand man/boy, the chief/cook and six boys to lug the gear up the mountain. So much for carrying our own stuff and roughing it on the hills.
On the first evening, the fat old, welded vinyl tents went up as did the dining tent. It was a very comfortable camp to say the least, eating at a table with a tablecloth and chairs and all the trimmings. The cook was something special: what he could turn out using a kero stove was amazing – popcorn, pizzas, pasties just rolled out onto the dining table with minimal effort.
During a rest period I had a short lap with the basket that carried the table and chairs and a few sundry items. Crikey! I could feel my neck vertebrae closing up under protest. Approximately 35kg hanging from one's forehead is pretty tough, and these little boys lugged them over the hills without a word of complaint. In saying that it was hard not to notice the joy on the boys' faces as the food and fuel supplies diminished, especially the guy carting the 20-litre drum of kero.
On our last evening we convinced the team to share a meal with us instead of them waiting on us hand and foot. Set up on a grassy plateau, we were forced into a low rough shelter by a sudden rain squall. The laughter roared from the low shack as the boys really enjoyed having guests for dinner and the cook produced an amazing cake from the kero stove to mark the completion of the journey.
The whole family of boys making up the team really made the trek incredible and we were honoured to share their culture and their land.