Part 3 of 3 – Day 10: Gorak Shep – Pheriche (4240 Meters)
On the top of the hill heading out of Gorak Shep I turn around for one last look at the desolate scene. The first sense of accomplishment comes over me. I smile, take a deep breath and move on. Every person we pass is like looking into a mirror three days ago. They look tired and sick. They look defeated. But we are happy, strong. Careful with our footing. Going downhill makes me more nervous than anything else. A few years back, after a great summit time on Mt. Whitney in California, I began to jog down. Rock after pounding rock. Half way down, my right knee was in tremendous pain and I had to limp off the mountain. I was determined not to let this happen again.
What took us two days of solid trekking up, we did in one making our way to Pheriche which is just below Dingboche. We find a nice teahouse to stop in for the night. The owner is a sherpa. A few years back he was on an exhibition up to the summit of Mt. Everest. He was a mere 200 meters from the top and his client got incredibly ill. He had to turn back with him to help save his life.
We spend the better part of the evening crowded around a wood stove. But there is no wood at this altitude and a young woman with red painted fingernails arrives with an armful of yak dung. The dung has to be collected and then pressed into patties by hand and dried for three weeks. Surprisingly it burns quite well. One kilogram will burn for one hour and sells for $6.75 USD at this elevation. This is why most people go out and collect their own. In front of the fire I verbalize the thought that I actually smell worse than the yak dung that is burning. The teahouse owner tells me in broken English, “You should take a shower.” We all laugh. Nine PM, lights out.
Day 11: Pheriche – Phungi Thanga (3250 Meters)
I haven’t been shooting as much as I have been wanting to on this trip. I’ve really just been too tired. I had my Canon 5d II in a pouch on my hip for the entire trip and shot primarily with that set up. I stashed my 135 f2 lens in the plan that I would use it more on the way down. Excited to change the look up a bit I put the lens on my pack belt and begin using it. Busted. I doesn’t seem to want to focus past 20 meters. I never dropped it or impacted it in any way. I’m a bit confused and wonder if I should have give it some Diamox. Off to the Canon repair shop in December.
On the way to Tengboche we come upon a young Israeli man. He is carrying a large backpack with a guitar covered by a tarp awkwardly tied onto it. His name is Omre and he is 24 years old. The three of us hit it off instantly. He’s wearing a cowboy hat right out of a John Wayne movie. His jeans have a tear in the left rear pocket and his boots look warn. He has a beard of about two to three weeks that is mostly covered by a multipurpose scare that a member of VII Photo Agency would wear. We share stories from the climb and I am amazed to find Steven Seagal’s biggest only fan. He begins quoting lines from Under Siege and the less popular Under Siege II.
We stop in Tengboche so that I can visit the monastery and take some photographs. The ceremony is less impressive and is littered with foreign trekkers. A sign outside says the monastery charges $1,000 USD for professional video camera usage and $500 for professional still camera shooting. Disappointed, I shoot for a few minutes and then leave.
Light begins to fade and we still want to make our next destination. We have a 600 meter drop in elevation to reach Phungi Thanga. We take out our headlamps and finish the trek in the dark. We stop at the first teahouse we come to and ask if there is room. Nima, the owner, says she has one room with three beds. Perfect. We settle in for the night and have an amazing spaghetti dinner. Well amazing for 3250 meters.
Day 12: Phungi Thanga – Namche Bazar (3440 Meters)
Phungi Thanga is located in the valley so sunrise is a little later than what we’re used to. We wake up and huddle around the kitchen fire. Wood is burning for the first time but Nima adds one yak patty to keep it going strong. She shows us a photo album of her family, who lives in Kathmandu, while we wait for the sunrise. We ask for a second helping of Spaghetti for breakfast and we pack up to head to Namche Bazar.
This is the day we have been waiting for – and I’m sure everyone else we have met along the way. It has been 9 days since my last shower. It’s a fairly easy two-hour trek. We turn the corner and recognize the village on the side of the mountain. I let out a sigh of relief. I haven’t’ shaved since I left Vietnam and my beard is really beginning to itch. We check into the Khumbu Lodge and by $15 USD to have a private bathroom with shower. This is the Ritz Carlton of the Himalayans. We catch up on emailing and Facebook. Let our families know we made it and are still alive and enjoy a chicken sizzler dinner. Nine PM, lights out.
Day 13: Namche Bazar – Lukla (2840 Meters)
It’s a bit of a push be we intend on reaching Lukla today. We are thinking of nothing else other than the flight back to Kathmandu and three giant steaks at the Everest Steak House. The trail down is like Los Angeles in rush hour. It is hard to keep up a good stride. We are so much healthier and stronger now. But our momentum is stopped ever minute or two by another set of trekkers going in the opposite direction.
A group of young Australian trekkers are behind us. They are loud and obnoxious. Hard to enjoy the trip out with people screaming and making fun of the sherpas passing by. We stop to adjust our packs for a moment and I see a Nepalese man covered from head to toe in clothing. He’s sitting on chair in the middle of no where making a painting of a bridge we had just crossed. My thoughts of the loud trekkers disappear as I simply enjoy the scene I am in.
We continue on the trail in which we first began. I already feel different from who I was 12 days ago. Perhaps more focused. Perhaps not. Perhaps this feeling will fade before I even leave Nepal. Or maybe this is what a small sense of accomplishment feels like. Whatever it maybe I indeed on making it last as long as I can.
Just as I think my story ends with the three of us trekking into the sunset, I see a large monk walking down the hill towards me. I stop to let him pass by but he stops to stare at me. He is smiling. I awkward return a smile and say “Nameste”. He points to his belly and says, “Lama” and then points to me and says “Rato”. He continues saying the two words, smiling. I realize that he is pointing at my red trekking poles. He has a grayish silver set that he wants to trade with me so that they match red robes. I hand mine over to him and his smile gets even bigger and he walks away repeating, “Rato, rato”.
___
Caleb Bryant Miller
November 16th, 2009, 3:25 pm #
Kevin, what an amazing trip in pictures and words. As always, you inspire.
jay
November 16th, 2009, 7:51 pm #
love the seagal references.
‘I’m gonna take you to the bank, Senator Trent. To the blood bank.’ -HTC
Kevin German
November 16th, 2009, 7:57 pm #
Caleb – Thank you
Jay – Omre’s favorite line was, “Is that the best you got? Is that the best you got? I guess I’ll just have to kill you then.” Believe me it was humorous at 3500 meters.
Jeff Ambrose
November 16th, 2009, 10:47 pm #
Incredible and inspiring Kevin, thanks for taking us along on your journey.
jay
November 18th, 2009, 8:23 pm #
hahaha. that’s a standard, but good, seagal line.
Thomas Chin
November 20th, 2009, 8:07 am #
I see why you have been avoiding updates; you’ve chosen the past of least resistance. While many of the photojournalism pioneers you love to quote cut their teeth and honed their craft by seeking environments where voices were silenced but images were tolerated you’ve apparently gone soft and prefer the comfort of commercial work over the uncertainty of work documenting injustice, religious persecution, human suffering, corruption, abortion, sexual slavery, and political repression. It’s a shame really; amidst the transformational changes occurring in Vietnam you post images of a trek to Everest and commercial photos of a Vietnamese internet cafe. There’s a reason VII continues to stay head and shoulders above its competition, the likes of Bleasdale, Knight,Nachtwey, Haviv, Stanmeyer, and Sinclair remain true to their original passions while upstarts laden with talent, like Luceo, prefer to imitate Lauren Greenfield with sanitized and superficial images from safe zones like Everest base camp and circuses.
Kevin German
November 25th, 2009, 6:01 am #
Thomas,
I feel like I have said or done some thing to wrong you in the past. If so then I apologize. I am inspired by some of the photojournalists that you have mentioned but I have never claimed to be like them or even want to be like them. I only know how to be myself.
I don’t have the luxury of being independently wealthy so I need to work to survive. Editorial work in this part of the world is scarce and so I take on the occasional commercial job to help fund my projects. I have never photographed an internet cafe so I am not sure what you are referring to.
Even some of the VII photographers shoot commercial work:
http://www.viiphoto.com/corporateAd.php
Knight, Nachtwey and Stanmeyer all accept corporate work through the VII site. I personally do not know any photographer who doesn’t accept the occasional commercial job to help fund their visions.
Everest was a way for me to celebrate my birthday … nothing more. There was no larger social commentary that I was reaching for. Simply a dream of mine to see the mountain.
A friend of mine said some thing that has stuck with me the other day. “If you’re going to be a successful human, you need to give yourself permission to enjoy life.”
As far as Luceo, it is an honor to be associated with this group of photographers. It is not the duty of a photojournalist to be the voice of the voiceless. It is a commendable journey for sure, but that is simply one genre of the craft. Each photographer in Luceo has their own set of goals and aspirations for their photography which drives their passion. It helps drive me to continue working here.
I went silent on my old blog simply due to the fact I ran out of things to say for a time. Nothing more, nothing less. But I assure you I was photographing. Some of it I will blog about here and some of it I will save for myself. I have been working on a book that does include some of the overarching themes that you spoke about but in my own way.
Thank you for your comments.
Thomas Chin
November 27th, 2009, 3:05 am #
While I appreciate your dispassionate and measured response, by its very nature it’s symptomatic, and speaks volumes, to what I see as a lack of raw passion to make your mark in the world of photojournalism.
First, let me say this is not meant as a personal assault, nor a broadside against your character. In fact just the opposite.
Second, the “internet cafe’ I referred to was the posting on June 8th of “Edge Asia’s new building” which certainly has the appearance of an internet venture.
For someone with so much talent, and such relative youth, I just find it a shame that there’s not a corresponding fire in the belly, so to speak, to really forge your vision and voice.
You’ve started some great projects then seemingly get distracted, or gravitate away towards more pop culture/cotton candy subjects: Vietnam film industry,beauty pageants,golf courses, russian snobs et al. and all but orphan your former projects: mental illness,sex slavery, abortions, etc. Who are you? What do you stand for as a photojournalist? What are your goals?
Should we, as casual readers, be privy to these personal values? Not necessarily, but the very nature of blogging invites strangers to partake of your “personal” journey and in doing so invites, whether solicited or not, these type of enquiries.
I understand the need to “make a living” and indulging corporate work, but the aforementioned photogs, especially Sinclair, the lateste to join VII, either had already secured their legacies prior to jumping into the commercial field; Sinclair is to be especially commended as she continues to defy the industry by establishing and reinventing editorial opportunities where many others claim there’s no money or resources to support such projects.
Her unyielding passion, tenacity, and unwavering commitment, regardless of its economic opportunity costs, is defining her youth and shaping her legacy;
You are certainly entitled to “enjoy life” ; but if what I’ve seen from your last 8 months worth of posts is any indication your legacy upon leaving Asia will be that of yet another idealistic young American who arrived with ambition and left in anonymity without so much as causing a ripple.
That would be shame.
Rich-Joseph Facun
November 27th, 2009, 10:17 am #
Ever seen that old eighties skate video “Search for Animal Chin?” Um… I think someone just unleashed him.
Matt Slaby
November 27th, 2009, 10:36 pm #
T-Chin,
Your initial comment drew a little bit of chatter on our own internal list which, regardless of the substance of your thoughts, is something that I personally appreciate. Your latest response, however, reminds me of that thing that Biden said during the VP debates. You know, the one-liner bit of advice he received as a young Senator. Paraphrased, it’s fair to question a person’s judgment; it’s not fair to question their motives. Politics aside, I kinda think this is one of those adages that has some real weight to it. Especially when it comes to your particular assumptions about Kevin’s ethic and motivations.
I find two things especially troubling about your approach. First is the tendency toward establishing some vague, unfounded paradigm and holding all of photography up against it as though your particular valuation is self-evident. Or, in plain English, you invent a ridiculous standard and then break the photographer over it. In this case, you actually imply that because a photographer solicits work that is financially viable, their entire body of work is somehow invalid. The only exception being, apparently, Stephanie Sinclair.
Frankly, your reasoning doesn’t really carry beyond good rhetoric.
Second, and, really, the most frustrating for me to read, is the way in which you’ve taken a long series of Kevin’s blog installments and treated each one as though it were an entire forest. At each of our weekly meetings we reserve time for a different photographer to share work and seek input and criticism on projects that they are currently shooting. We’ve all been watching Kevin’s Vietnam work develop during his stay abroad and have had the opportunity to see him shoot different threads of a common theme. Last week he shared a larger body of work –158 images –shot over his entire tenure in Vietnam. This sequence takes your so-called “cotton candy” subjects and weaves them together with the more sensational topics that you seem to favor. The resulting collection of imagery is cohesive, well-sequenced, thoughtful, nuanced and, most importantly, **unfinished**.
Of all of our photographers, Kevin’s commitment to producing this project has been the most intense, single-minded undertakings that I have had the privilege of watching. I’d invite you to withhold your judgment about his passion, tenacity, commitment (and the rest of your ad hominem editorializing) until he puts his final stamp on the Vietnam chapter.
Thomas Chin
November 28th, 2009, 7:15 pm #
“With all due respect, you’ve told me nothing, … It’s kind of interesting, this kabuki dance we have in these forums here, as if the public doesn’t have a right to opine and fundamentally disagree with conventional (group) think.”
-Joe Biden
Matt, you’ve raised some valid points, though I take issue with your characterization of “ad hominem editorializing”; to put my overall comments in context they were directed squarely at a comment he wrote (which has subsequently been removed) in one of his last blog entries, to paraphrase “I just ran out of things to say, to write about.” To me this is just an incredulous statement given the almost teutonic economic, political, social,environmental shifts occurring within Vietnam, South-east Asia, and Asia as a whole. And its symptomatic of someone whose either lost their passion, their focus, or the fires within have been doused – for whatever reason – temporary or not.
Furthermore, in no manner have I put forth a singular model and “hold all photography up against it as though (my) particular valuation is self-evident.” The dynamism of photographer is a mosaic, which at its most basic level defies such a “paradigm”. I simply cited Sinclair as an example of someone who contradicts most of Kevin’s arguments for why he takes leave of hard-hitting work and to seemingly orphans it without so much as a backward reference, or how it is just one part of the thematic jigsaw he’s assembling while in Asia.
And I completely fail to see how anyone could read into my comments that I’ve “implied that because a photographer solicits work that is financially viable, their entire body of work is somehow valid.” I felt your response was civil and constrained, and I cede your point on several issues, but that is not one them.
Personally Matt, I’ve enjoyed your work, especially reading the backstory on your Time project in Aurora, Colorado, which illuminates the stratagems that go into otherwise seemingly simplistic photo assignments.
As for Rich Joseph-Facun’s comments they are a sad, racist commentary on the myopic and stereotypical world view of most US-centric contributors who still view Asia largely through the prism of Mr. Magoo cartoons.
Sadly, when one takes the time, puts in the effort to challenge or constructively criticize in these forums rather than well-written responses like Matt’s many twitter-minded individuals prefer Mr. Facun’s modus.
And therein lies the rub, I now find myself straying farther and farther from my initial comments to address the rebuttals, which are valid and welcome, but, as Biden laments, lend a “kabuki dance”-like distraction to the forum.
To quote JFK “To whom much is given, much is expected”; in closing, my initial thrust was that while Kevin is unarguably supremely talented and been blessed with world class talent, it confounds me that he has seemingly been “lost” the last 6 months vis-a-vis the first 6 when he lit up his blog with endless inspiration both in writing as well as imagery.
I’m out.
Kevin German
November 28th, 2009, 9:35 pm #
Listen, I’d be happy to argue with you on this topic all day. I really would because I am passionate about what I do. But it is a losing battle, because you continue to misquote me and misinterpret my work. If you only read the posts you are talking about in all instances, you would realize that they are nothing more or nothing less than what you give them credit for.
This is and always has been a personal blog. It was started for myself and it will end for myself. If you take some thing from it or do not, this is again your choice.
I have no idea where you live or what your background is, but unless you live in Vietnam, then you are assuming quite a bit about my life. I enthusiastically invite you to Vietnam … I even have a spare couch. I will take you to meet some of the prostitutes, mental illness patients and undertakers of the aborted baby cemeteries that I have been photographing.
But you will also have to meet the other people I am photographing that are not as “interesting”. The now famous actor who’s family fled the country during the war and is now back in Vietnam. He is arguably one of the first foreign Vietnamese to be pretty widely accepted by the people. Perhaps a sign of change, perhaps not. Or, I’ll take you to meet the son of the father of photography in Vietnam. He photographed Vietnam from the great depression during Japanese occupation to Ho Chi Minh himself during the war. The “father of photography” died earlier this year, but I feel very lucky to have met him while he was on his death bed. Or I will take you to meet Ong Nuoi. A mentally handicapped man who only wears army fatigues and takes care of several dogs, cats, chickens other birds. Or the woman that sells fried dough down the street. Or the little girl who sells flowers on the street. Or the student who’s learning about democracy. Or the boy who wants to be a police man. Or the cyclo driver who fought in the war. Or the homeless man who just wants to work. Or the other homeless man who just wants to get high. Or the people who live in the town of Ben Tre. Or the people who live in Sa Pa …
My point is that, I am trying to experience and photograph Vietnam in its entirety. Enjoy your Sunday Thomas … I’m going out to photograph.
brye
November 30th, 2009, 3:04 pm #
Kevin,
I really loved reading this and seeing all your beautiful pix. Way to conquer. I’ve peed on myself before, too. It’s no biggie.
Rich-Joseph Facun
December 2nd, 2009, 4:20 am #
I’m a racist. Wow, that’s a first. By the way, Mr. Chin, I’m half Filipino and half Mexican (or Otomi Indian to be exact.) I’m actually based in the Middle East, hardly US-centric.
Good luck with your future endeavors and assumptions – may they carry you far in life.
Kevin, keep up the wonderful work that, in my opinion, is always an inspiration. I enjoy both your issue-based documentary work as well as your lighter images. I recognize the value in creating more than one realm of imagery. Best Regards!
Susan Mueller
December 2nd, 2009, 6:51 am #
Kevin,
Despite any negative comment, I would hope that all the postive comments have an impact more so. Nice work!
Mark Johnston
January 14th, 2010, 7:15 pm #
I’m a little late reading all of this.
Chin: You embarrass yourself, stop it.
Kevin: Once again thanks for sharing all your hard work, it’s such an inspiration for many of us noobs.
Matt: You’re a genius, your reply was priceless and your work is also brilliant.