Knocking on heaven's door

by Lorenzo Leonardi (Italy)

Making a local connection Nepal


I settle the shoulder straps, I have the skin irritated: the continuous rubbing of the fabric and the weight of the backpack begin to bother. A little to the right, a little to the left... Now it's better. I breathe the air of high altitude, that inebriate me so much that I do not feel anything anymore. We have just left the village of Labuche, in the Himalayas, and we descend through the wide Everest valleys, away from the tourist traffic of Gorekshep, eager to immerse ourselves in this wonderful world of fairy tales: light head, heavy legs, the clock continues its run... We must hurry because the hours of light in this period are few and the last thing we want is to be caught by the night along the way. I look at the time: it's just past noon and I'm happy. Through the lens of my sunglasses, I look at my sister: the face wrinkled by sweat and fatigue, but she has the same light in the eyes... I understand that she explodes of joy, we share the same feelings in silence... We are happy, tremendously free and happy, without guides or porters. Savages, we ride alone, enjoying the freedom in the world of dreams. I wonder if I had ever experienced this state of peace and if you really could be so close to a person without even talking... Yes, this is the magic that permeates these earth, soaked in every stone, in every molecule of water, in every blade of grass. Total connection with nature... Is this the reason why we travel so much? Maybe. Each person's life path is built with new intermediate stages of awareness, and, God, we are living this moment together, two brothers, constantly looking for something that we don't completely understand, in a remote corner of the world, out of everything and far from everyone. Hours run slow and heavy as the steps of 2 Westerners, not accustomed to high altitudes, with the head and the heart full of emotions. We talk little, we keep everything for ourselves but sharing the same state of harmony. Finally, at nightfall, illuminated by the light of our head torch, we glimpse a small cluster of houses where we can spend the night. With trepidation, we knock on the doors of this small ghost community. Darkness overwhelms us, the stars shine in the sky, a light sleet bathes our face. No response to our requests. We pray for someone to open the door and host us. A small Nepalese family welcomes our supplications and invites us at home offering us a hot meal and a bed for the night. We are dreaming... NAMASTE