Hiding in a Cave

sereneleong — Wed, 27 May 2015 14:50:53 GMT

Somebody lives in this cave. There were signs of human settlement- neatly-piled rocks that warned of a territory; firewood at the front; smell of an animal farm. A shepherd's. "Namaste?" It echoed back strongly.
I continued my hike on a barren trail with craggy rocks & sand, descending deeper into the eroded canyon. Arid, colorful stratified rock formations towered over. According to Buddhist tale, red rocks were painted by demons’ blood. Carved into cliff faces were many cave dwellings, some with remnants of ancient civilization. Who were these cavemen?
Who am I? I’m Santa Gurung. Santa- peaceful in Nepali- is a translation from my real name Serene. I have had to take up this identity to arrive in the Forbidden Kingdom of Upper Mustang (UP). Foreigners weren’t allowed to enter UP until 1992, & UP remains a restricted area with heavy regulations. Taking advantage of my Chinese origin, I could pass off as a Mongolian-face ethnic group. Gurung is 1 such caste. It’s been 3 weeks since I sneaked into the Kingdom, 3 weeks since I lived this lie. I avoided main trek paths, minimized contact with hotels & trekkers to protect my identity- I’ve to sleep in the cave.
I heard bells, goats bleating. 200 came my way, many clumsy on steep canyon walls. They roamed free; occasionally the shepherd called out to them. "I sleep in cave?" I asked in Nepali. He gave a curious look, but it didn’t seem a question to my identity. "No water," he said. I pulled out my half-filled bottle, "Enough?" "Yes."
We walked, mostly in silence, but with a deeper trust with each other every minute. When the sun began to set, we had just arrived at the cave, as though the moment was timed. He had no watch. As each goat marched in, he told me its name- every single 1 of them. "They are my family," he said.
I could barely stand upright in this room, kitchen, sleeping space- a corner separated from the goats. 2 jugs water, 5 jugs chang- a Tibetan beer made of millet. He hiked to the next village every 3 days for supplies. Had he brought more chang than water, or had he consumed more water than chang? "Local beer. Warm." he smiled, comforting me that I wouldn’t be cold for the night, in 3800m.
With a khukuri, he chopped dried meat. What meat it was, I didn’t know. With goat droppings, he made fire & meat stew. We ate with chang.
Smoke filled the cave & it was warm. He laid goat fur on the ground, & I slept.
The sun had barely hit the canyon walls when he woke me up, "We have tea. I go with goats."

Photos: My Scholarship entry - A 'place' I have visited

sereneleong — Fri, 5 Jul 2013 12:22:00 GMT

I don't recall how I fell in love with photography, but over time my intertwined passions of traveling, photography, the environment, sports & languages certainly reinforced the fervor of one another. I found myself being fascinated with my dad’s camera when I was 9, with the simple intention of capturing moments of the family; 12 years later I find myself craving the same, only on a wider scale & with a deep desire to share those moments. Nature has indubitably evoked an immense interest in me that evolved into a sense of responsibility towards my environment. To combine my photography passion and efforts for the environment would be a dream come true. I aspire to educate & further my quest for the environment. What drives me to take a better shot is to be able to provide others with a different point of view. I love the extremes: I never had a good explanation for my summer in Sahara Desert and my winter in Lapland. I yearn being close to mountains, volcanoes, caves. To explore the Ice Cap & Russell Glacier, & more importantly, open my eyes to the natural world as an assistant photographer, would mean a lot to me. I believe it's an eye-opening platform to gain first-hand insights of a photographer.

The Finnish Line

Hiding in a Cave

Photos: My Scholarship entry - A 'place' I have visited