According to some estimates Mount Everest is littered with 50 tonnes of garbage and more than 200 corpses. The Economist explains the mess on
Everest and how to clean it up http://econ.st/1ivzaqe
在尼泊爾凝視眾神
黃安偉 報道 2012年12月14日
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
木斯唐(Mustang)地區雅拉(Yara)村附近的懸崖上的岩洞。
故事是從一個惡魔開始的。
幾百年前，這個惡魔損毀了藏區中部一座在建寺廟的地基。於是，將佛教帶入藏區的蓮花生大師(Guru Rinpoche)一路向西追擊這個惡魔，一直追到木斯唐(Mustang)的深處。他們在木斯唐的雪山之巔、荒漠峽谷和遼闊草原展開了激烈的搏鬥。最 後，蓮花生大師打敗了惡魔，並將後者身體的各個部分，灑在了木斯唐的各處：惡魔的血液變成了高聳的紅色山崖，惡魔的腸子則滾落到了山崖東側那片被風沙侵蝕 的土地上。後來民眾在“腸子”上建立了尼泊爾境內最長的祈禱牆。
徒步的第五天，我們到達了惡魔的木斯唐人在山腰上建造的羅格卡(Lo
Gekar)寺廟，那裡是藏區最古老的寺廟之一。一名喇嘛帶我們參觀寺廟。我沒有見到任何惡魔心臟殘留的痕迹，但在寺廟後方一個陰暗房間的壁畫上可以看到
一種尖牙藍膚的可怕物種。藏人把它們叫做保護神。嚮導卡瑪(Karma)將我拉到旁邊的陰影中，手指指向另一面牆。我定睛望去，看到一尊用岩石雕刻出來的
佛像，至少我覺得它是人工雕刻出來的。
“他們說這個雕像是天生的，剛發現時就是這個樣子。”卡瑪說，“木斯唐人民有許多傳說。他們什麼都信。不管你向哪裡看過去，都有神靈存在。”
今年9月在尼泊爾喜馬拉雅山區16天的徒步旅行中，我發現木斯唐盛產神話故事。雖然現代生活方式已經緩慢入侵，但當地人講述的故事卻與幾百年前沒什 麼區別。我翻山越嶺，走過一個個牆壁刷成白色的小村，這裡谷深風急，散布着遠古山洞穴屋，而正是這些故事為這個荒蠻之地注入了活力。在阿梅帕爾(Ame Pal)於14世紀統一王國之前，就是這樣的，如今這些故事還像從前那樣鮮活。
12年前我在安納普爾納環線(Annapurna Circuit)徒步旅行時，曾稍稍領略了一點木斯唐的風采，從那以後我一直渴望重返此地。環線最北的拱點是一個叫卡貝尼(Kagbeni)的小村，村裡 有許多紅牆環繞的寺廟。村莊的北側是卡利岡達基河(Kali Gandaki River)侵蝕出來的遼闊峽谷。繼續向北就是上木斯唐(Upper Mustang)，從前叫做珞王國(Kingdom of Lo)。到上木斯唐旅行，旅行者必須向尼泊爾政府申請一個專門的通行證。
今年秋天似乎是我造訪木斯唐的好時機。童年時我就目睹了母親對佛教信仰的虔誠，後來我開始在喜馬拉雅地區的山路上徒步旅行，在那絕美的風景和信徒們 堅毅的神情中尋找某種超脫的東西。我很快就要40歲了，第一個孩子很快就要誕生。所以是時候到喜馬拉雅做一個朝聖之旅了，並以此紀念我人生一個階段的結束 和另一個階段的開始。
現在造訪木斯唐還有另一個原因。在藏區發生多起自焚事件之後，中國政府去年開始限制赴西藏旅遊的人數——這種限制性舉措其實從2008年就已開始。 所以對旅行者來說，木斯唐是個不錯的替代選擇。木斯唐像西藏一樣處在外喜馬拉雅(Trans-Himalaya)，擁有正宗的藏區文化。外喜馬拉雅指的是 喜馬拉雅山脈北側遼闊的高海拔荒漠地帶，喜馬拉雅山脈擋住了大部分的夏天的季風雲團，也將印度和東南亞炎熱多雨的氣候擋在了山脈以南。
根據卡貝尼村的一個政府辦公室的統計數字，去年進入上木斯唐的遊客將近3000人，這個數字比三年前增長了25%以上。但高昂的通行證（10天 500美元，超過10天每天再加10美元）仍讓許多旅行者望而卻步。然而，較低的遊客數量卻深受徒步旅行者歡迎，他們一直試圖躲開繁忙的安納普爾納環線和 珠峰徒步路線。部分木斯唐本地人也喜歡這種遊客稀少的現狀，即使那些主張政府應將大部分通行證收入分給木斯唐居民的人士也不例外。
“這塊土地是世界上最美的地方之一。”木斯唐地區名義上的王子、今年55歲的吉格米·辛基·帕爾巴·比斯塔(Jigme Singi Palbar Bista)說道，“遊客太多的話，這塊土地會無法承受。”
與妻子蒂尼(Tini)在加德滿都谷地(Katmandu Valley)待了一星期後，我和朋友吉勒斯(Gilles)匯合，隨後一起飛往北方，降落在安納普爾納和道拉吉里(Dhaulagiri)群山之間的一 個地方。許多徒步者從卡貝尼村一出發就直奔木斯唐的古都珞馬丹(Lo Manthang)，然後在10天內趕回。但我們決定走得慢一些，沿途多探索幾處隱秘的所在。夏季的時候，尼泊爾最後的游牧民族會在珞馬丹以西的高海拔草 原搭帳紮營，暫時定居。那個地區還有不少20000英尺以上的山峰引誘我們去探索。16天的許可證也讓我們有時間造訪珞馬丹以北、靠近西藏的山谷，然後沿 着卡利岡達基河以東的峽谷回到卡貝尼村。木斯唐的東半部雖然位置偏遠，但擁有一些世界上保存得最好的藏傳佛教洞穴。
徒步旅行的每一天，我都因木斯唐景緻竟與之前見到的喜馬拉雅風光如此不同而頻頻驚嘆。木斯唐環繞卡利岡達基河遼闊的河谷，呈現出來的是壯美的峽谷風 光。河流兩岸的徒步路線需要我們在山谷中頻繁地上坡下坡。一年中大多數時候河流水位都很低，但夏季偶爾發生的季風降水意味着我們不得不五六次涉水渡河。
上木斯唐絕大多數地區都很荒涼，居民約5400人，以前只有朝聖藏民和氂牛商隊才會經過這裡。徒步旅行的第二天我們到達了這個地方。眼前是卡利岡達 基河一個寬闊的河段，河水洶湧迅疾。我們所有的裝備都放在三匹馬的背上。除了卡瑪以外，我們的團隊還包括來自珞馬丹的馬夫格姆波(Gombo)和當地的夏 爾巴廚師菲尼約(Fhinju) 。
穿過卡利岡達基河以後，徒步路線開始沿着陡峭的山路通向薩馬(Samar)村。薩馬村是木斯唐地區濕度最高、植被最為豐富的地方。黑夜降臨之前，我 們穿過一個飄滿風馬旗的山口，到達一座木屋客棧。卡瑪是薩馬村的村民，他的哥哥是村子的首領，也是那座木屋客棧的老闆。木斯唐地區較為重要的村子都有至少 一家客棧供徒步者入住。客房裡配有簡易床鋪或鋪着厚實的藏式羊毛毯的長凳。經過一天漫長的步行，我和吉勒斯都已筋疲力盡。我們坐在溫暖的廚房裡用餐，旁邊 是幾個法國旅行者。餐後甜點是加了奶油凍的蘋果派，由卡瑪的嫂子親手烹制。
隔壁傳來擊鼓的聲音。“旅途中的喇嘛。”卡瑪說。
接下來的幾天，我們的徒步旅行形成了固定的模式：早上六七點就起床，吃早餐，然後行走六至八個小時，日落之前到達另一個村莊。我們朝着珞馬丹的方向行進，越往北走越荒涼。群山的顏色每天都在變化，呈現出紅色、棕色和褐色，隨着太陽位置的移動，每一刻都有不同。
在這片崎嶇不平的土地上，當地人建造了很多佛教聖骨冢，也就是小型的舍利塔，通常建在山頂上、通向山村的小路上，甚至山洞裡，部分功能是保佑信眾不受鬼神的傷害。藏傳佛教和神話傳說像兩條繩索一樣交錯糾纏、難分彼此，並與這裡的風景緊密融合。
雨季之後是豐收的季節。村民們走入農田，割下一捆捆金色的大麥。但與豐收相伴的，是許多關於可能降臨在居民身上的詛咒、惡魔和不幸的故事。卡瑪告訴 我們，當地的傳說認為，將木斯唐和西側荒蕪灘地多爾帕(Dolpo)連接起來的那條高山通道，必須在收穫季節結束以後才能通行，不然的話，豐收就會以災難 收場。同理，珞馬丹以西那些20000英尺以上的無名雪山，也必須在收穫季節之後才能攀登。有一天，我冒險登上了一座小山。到達19400英尺以上的雪線 時，忽然下起了冰雹。烏雲迅速聚集，我趕忙撤退下山。
那次冒險攀登之後，我們在游牧家庭附近紮營打尖，過了兩夜；我們坐在他們用氂牛氈做成的黑色帳篷里，喝了幾杯當地的酥油茶。最後我們終於到達了珞馬 丹，我拜見了木斯唐王子（他80歲的父王已經病了好幾周了），並探訪了小鎮中心的三座紅牆喇嘛廟。我們看到數十名當地人在意大利人路易吉·菲耶尼 (Luigi Fieni)的帶領下，正在宏偉的吐欽寺(Thubchen Monastery)里給佛教藝術品重新上漆。許多木頭圓柱撐起寺廟高聳的屋頂，鍍金的巨型雕像令人肅然起敬。
兩天以後我們離開這個小鎮，跟着卡瑪到達一個同樣獨特但藏在腹地里的村莊。從雅拉(Yara)村出發，我們去了卡利岡達基河谷東部一個只有垂直攀爬才能到達的山洞。我們卸下背包，徒手攀登。手一滑，我們就可能墜入幾百英尺之下的谷底。
這個建在石洞里的扎西卡布寺(Tashi Kabum)由當地人在幾年前對外界開放。寺廟裡有個巨大的白色舍利塔，石洞四壁和寺廟屋頂上的壁畫是我見過的保存最好的古代佛教藝術品。在屋頂的壁畫 上，我能看出蓮花瓣的圖案；其中一面牆上有一幅身穿藏紅長袍的喇嘛畫像。更加神秘的是一個面帶微笑、象牙膚色的男性坐像。陽光從岩洞懸崖一側的一個洞口透 進來，令他的面龐熠熠閃光。
我們的夏爾巴朋友菲尼約用手指在畫像上摩挲了幾下。“千瑞吉(Chenrezig)菩薩，”他說，然後低下頭開始祈禱。
在藏傳佛教中，千瑞吉菩薩代表慈悲。藏人相信達賴喇嘛就是千瑞吉菩薩的一個化身。在亞洲的佛教諸神中，千瑞吉菩薩是個非常重要的角色。雖然我在美國郊區出生和成長，但小時候每天晚上我都能看到母親在客廳里對着一尊千瑞吉菩薩的中國化身觀音菩薩虔誠祈禱。
此時此地，童年的家遠在萬里之外，千瑞吉菩薩卻再次凝視着我。人們對他的信仰穿越了國境和時空。同樣的神話傳說對每個人都有不同的含義。我凝望着他的眼睛，知道他的故事會在未來的日子裡延綿不絕。
高地徒步旅行
交通
大多數徒步旅行者都從卡貝尼村進入上木斯唐。最近的機場位於卓姆索姆(Jomsom)，從那裡步行至卡貝尼村需三個小時。從度假勝地博卡拉 (Pokhara)坐飛機去卓姆索姆，單程機票在100美元以下。航班的時間和頻次因季節而變化，且常因惡劣天氣而取消。但這條航線途經世界上最高的幾座 山峰，從飛機上向下俯瞰，風光令人驚嘆。還有一種方法，就是乘坐14個小時的公共汽車前往卓姆索姆，但路上常有山體滑坡事故。
嚮導
外國遊客必須通過獨立嚮導或徒步旅行社來申請木斯唐通行證。建議聘請木斯唐當地人做嚮導，儘管這種嚮導比較難找。我的嚮導卡瑪·薩姆德普(Karma Samdup, karmakurt@hotmail.com)來自木斯唐的薩馬村。
如果你想參加西方人運營的旅行社組織的旅行團，可以聯繫“喜馬拉雅項目旅行社”(Project Himalaya; project-himalaya.com)和Kamzang旅行社(kamzang.com)。
住宿
木斯唐徒步旅行路線中每個較為重要的村子都有客棧或家庭旅館供旅行者入住。經驗豐富的導遊對每個村子的住宿點都很熟悉。
幾百年前，這個惡魔損毀了藏區中部一座在建寺廟的地基。於是，將佛教帶入藏區的蓮花生大師(Guru Rinpoche)一路向西追擊這個惡魔，一直追到木斯唐(Mustang)的深處。他們在木斯唐的雪山之巔、荒漠峽谷和遼闊草原展開了激烈的搏鬥。最 後，蓮花生大師打敗了惡魔，並將後者身體的各個部分，灑在了木斯唐的各處：惡魔的血液變成了高聳的紅色山崖，惡魔的腸子則滾落到了山崖東側那片被風沙侵蝕 的土地上。後來民眾在“腸子”上建立了尼泊爾境內最長的祈禱牆。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
一位農夫站在珞馬丹附近的田野上。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
雅拉村附近的岩洞寺廟扎西卡布寺，幾年前才對公眾開放。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
珞馬丹的一位男子從他家的窗戶里探出頭。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
當地人背着籃子在兩排轉經筒之間走過。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
一位游牧民的項鏈。上木斯唐大部分地區很荒涼，有大約5400名居民。
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
尼泊爾卡貝尼村的卡利岡達基河床。大多數徒步旅行者從卡貝尼村進入尼泊爾的上木斯唐地區。
“他們說這個雕像是天生的，剛發現時就是這個樣子。”卡瑪說，“木斯唐人民有許多傳說。他們什麼都信。不管你向哪裡看過去，都有神靈存在。”
今年9月在尼泊爾喜馬拉雅山區16天的徒步旅行中，我發現木斯唐盛產神話故事。雖然現代生活方式已經緩慢入侵，但當地人講述的故事卻與幾百年前沒什 麼區別。我翻山越嶺，走過一個個牆壁刷成白色的小村，這裡谷深風急，散布着遠古山洞穴屋，而正是這些故事為這個荒蠻之地注入了活力。在阿梅帕爾(Ame Pal)於14世紀統一王國之前，就是這樣的，如今這些故事還像從前那樣鮮活。
12年前我在安納普爾納環線(Annapurna Circuit)徒步旅行時，曾稍稍領略了一點木斯唐的風采，從那以後我一直渴望重返此地。環線最北的拱點是一個叫卡貝尼(Kagbeni)的小村，村裡 有許多紅牆環繞的寺廟。村莊的北側是卡利岡達基河(Kali Gandaki River)侵蝕出來的遼闊峽谷。繼續向北就是上木斯唐(Upper Mustang)，從前叫做珞王國(Kingdom of Lo)。到上木斯唐旅行，旅行者必須向尼泊爾政府申請一個專門的通行證。
今年秋天似乎是我造訪木斯唐的好時機。童年時我就目睹了母親對佛教信仰的虔誠，後來我開始在喜馬拉雅地區的山路上徒步旅行，在那絕美的風景和信徒們 堅毅的神情中尋找某種超脫的東西。我很快就要40歲了，第一個孩子很快就要誕生。所以是時候到喜馬拉雅做一個朝聖之旅了，並以此紀念我人生一個階段的結束 和另一個階段的開始。
現在造訪木斯唐還有另一個原因。在藏區發生多起自焚事件之後，中國政府去年開始限制赴西藏旅遊的人數——這種限制性舉措其實從2008年就已開始。 所以對旅行者來說，木斯唐是個不錯的替代選擇。木斯唐像西藏一樣處在外喜馬拉雅(Trans-Himalaya)，擁有正宗的藏區文化。外喜馬拉雅指的是 喜馬拉雅山脈北側遼闊的高海拔荒漠地帶，喜馬拉雅山脈擋住了大部分的夏天的季風雲團，也將印度和東南亞炎熱多雨的氣候擋在了山脈以南。
根據卡貝尼村的一個政府辦公室的統計數字，去年進入上木斯唐的遊客將近3000人，這個數字比三年前增長了25%以上。但高昂的通行證（10天 500美元，超過10天每天再加10美元）仍讓許多旅行者望而卻步。然而，較低的遊客數量卻深受徒步旅行者歡迎，他們一直試圖躲開繁忙的安納普爾納環線和 珠峰徒步路線。部分木斯唐本地人也喜歡這種遊客稀少的現狀，即使那些主張政府應將大部分通行證收入分給木斯唐居民的人士也不例外。
“這塊土地是世界上最美的地方之一。”木斯唐地區名義上的王子、今年55歲的吉格米·辛基·帕爾巴·比斯塔(Jigme Singi Palbar Bista)說道，“遊客太多的話，這塊土地會無法承受。”
與妻子蒂尼(Tini)在加德滿都谷地(Katmandu Valley)待了一星期後，我和朋友吉勒斯(Gilles)匯合，隨後一起飛往北方，降落在安納普爾納和道拉吉里(Dhaulagiri)群山之間的一 個地方。許多徒步者從卡貝尼村一出發就直奔木斯唐的古都珞馬丹(Lo Manthang)，然後在10天內趕回。但我們決定走得慢一些，沿途多探索幾處隱秘的所在。夏季的時候，尼泊爾最後的游牧民族會在珞馬丹以西的高海拔草 原搭帳紮營，暫時定居。那個地區還有不少20000英尺以上的山峰引誘我們去探索。16天的許可證也讓我們有時間造訪珞馬丹以北、靠近西藏的山谷，然後沿 着卡利岡達基河以東的峽谷回到卡貝尼村。木斯唐的東半部雖然位置偏遠，但擁有一些世界上保存得最好的藏傳佛教洞穴。
徒步旅行的每一天，我都因木斯唐景緻竟與之前見到的喜馬拉雅風光如此不同而頻頻驚嘆。木斯唐環繞卡利岡達基河遼闊的河谷，呈現出來的是壯美的峽谷風 光。河流兩岸的徒步路線需要我們在山谷中頻繁地上坡下坡。一年中大多數時候河流水位都很低，但夏季偶爾發生的季風降水意味着我們不得不五六次涉水渡河。
上木斯唐絕大多數地區都很荒涼，居民約5400人，以前只有朝聖藏民和氂牛商隊才會經過這裡。徒步旅行的第二天我們到達了這個地方。眼前是卡利岡達 基河一個寬闊的河段，河水洶湧迅疾。我們所有的裝備都放在三匹馬的背上。除了卡瑪以外，我們的團隊還包括來自珞馬丹的馬夫格姆波(Gombo)和當地的夏 爾巴廚師菲尼約(Fhinju) 。
穿過卡利岡達基河以後，徒步路線開始沿着陡峭的山路通向薩馬(Samar)村。薩馬村是木斯唐地區濕度最高、植被最為豐富的地方。黑夜降臨之前，我 們穿過一個飄滿風馬旗的山口，到達一座木屋客棧。卡瑪是薩馬村的村民，他的哥哥是村子的首領，也是那座木屋客棧的老闆。木斯唐地區較為重要的村子都有至少 一家客棧供徒步者入住。客房裡配有簡易床鋪或鋪着厚實的藏式羊毛毯的長凳。經過一天漫長的步行，我和吉勒斯都已筋疲力盡。我們坐在溫暖的廚房裡用餐，旁邊 是幾個法國旅行者。餐後甜點是加了奶油凍的蘋果派，由卡瑪的嫂子親手烹制。
隔壁傳來擊鼓的聲音。“旅途中的喇嘛。”卡瑪說。
接下來的幾天，我們的徒步旅行形成了固定的模式：早上六七點就起床，吃早餐，然後行走六至八個小時，日落之前到達另一個村莊。我們朝着珞馬丹的方向行進，越往北走越荒涼。群山的顏色每天都在變化，呈現出紅色、棕色和褐色，隨着太陽位置的移動，每一刻都有不同。
在這片崎嶇不平的土地上，當地人建造了很多佛教聖骨冢，也就是小型的舍利塔，通常建在山頂上、通向山村的小路上，甚至山洞裡，部分功能是保佑信眾不受鬼神的傷害。藏傳佛教和神話傳說像兩條繩索一樣交錯糾纏、難分彼此，並與這裡的風景緊密融合。
雨季之後是豐收的季節。村民們走入農田，割下一捆捆金色的大麥。但與豐收相伴的，是許多關於可能降臨在居民身上的詛咒、惡魔和不幸的故事。卡瑪告訴 我們，當地的傳說認為，將木斯唐和西側荒蕪灘地多爾帕(Dolpo)連接起來的那條高山通道，必須在收穫季節結束以後才能通行，不然的話，豐收就會以災難 收場。同理，珞馬丹以西那些20000英尺以上的無名雪山，也必須在收穫季節之後才能攀登。有一天，我冒險登上了一座小山。到達19400英尺以上的雪線 時，忽然下起了冰雹。烏雲迅速聚集，我趕忙撤退下山。
那次冒險攀登之後，我們在游牧家庭附近紮營打尖，過了兩夜；我們坐在他們用氂牛氈做成的黑色帳篷里，喝了幾杯當地的酥油茶。最後我們終於到達了珞馬 丹，我拜見了木斯唐王子（他80歲的父王已經病了好幾周了），並探訪了小鎮中心的三座紅牆喇嘛廟。我們看到數十名當地人在意大利人路易吉·菲耶尼 (Luigi Fieni)的帶領下，正在宏偉的吐欽寺(Thubchen Monastery)里給佛教藝術品重新上漆。許多木頭圓柱撐起寺廟高聳的屋頂，鍍金的巨型雕像令人肅然起敬。
兩天以後我們離開這個小鎮，跟着卡瑪到達一個同樣獨特但藏在腹地里的村莊。從雅拉(Yara)村出發，我們去了卡利岡達基河谷東部一個只有垂直攀爬才能到達的山洞。我們卸下背包，徒手攀登。手一滑，我們就可能墜入幾百英尺之下的谷底。
這個建在石洞里的扎西卡布寺(Tashi Kabum)由當地人在幾年前對外界開放。寺廟裡有個巨大的白色舍利塔，石洞四壁和寺廟屋頂上的壁畫是我見過的保存最好的古代佛教藝術品。在屋頂的壁畫 上，我能看出蓮花瓣的圖案；其中一面牆上有一幅身穿藏紅長袍的喇嘛畫像。更加神秘的是一個面帶微笑、象牙膚色的男性坐像。陽光從岩洞懸崖一側的一個洞口透 進來，令他的面龐熠熠閃光。
我們的夏爾巴朋友菲尼約用手指在畫像上摩挲了幾下。“千瑞吉(Chenrezig)菩薩，”他說，然後低下頭開始祈禱。
在藏傳佛教中，千瑞吉菩薩代表慈悲。藏人相信達賴喇嘛就是千瑞吉菩薩的一個化身。在亞洲的佛教諸神中，千瑞吉菩薩是個非常重要的角色。雖然我在美國郊區出生和成長，但小時候每天晚上我都能看到母親在客廳里對着一尊千瑞吉菩薩的中國化身觀音菩薩虔誠祈禱。
此時此地，童年的家遠在萬里之外，千瑞吉菩薩卻再次凝視着我。人們對他的信仰穿越了國境和時空。同樣的神話傳說對每個人都有不同的含義。我凝望着他的眼睛，知道他的故事會在未來的日子裡延綿不絕。
高地徒步旅行
交通
大多數徒步旅行者都從卡貝尼村進入上木斯唐。最近的機場位於卓姆索姆(Jomsom)，從那裡步行至卡貝尼村需三個小時。從度假勝地博卡拉 (Pokhara)坐飛機去卓姆索姆，單程機票在100美元以下。航班的時間和頻次因季節而變化，且常因惡劣天氣而取消。但這條航線途經世界上最高的幾座 山峰，從飛機上向下俯瞰，風光令人驚嘆。還有一種方法，就是乘坐14個小時的公共汽車前往卓姆索姆，但路上常有山體滑坡事故。
嚮導
外國遊客必須通過獨立嚮導或徒步旅行社來申請木斯唐通行證。建議聘請木斯唐當地人做嚮導，儘管這種嚮導比較難找。我的嚮導卡瑪·薩姆德普(Karma Samdup, karmakurt@hotmail.com)來自木斯唐的薩馬村。
如果你想參加西方人運營的旅行社組織的旅行團，可以聯繫“喜馬拉雅項目旅行社”(Project Himalaya; project-himalaya.com)和Kamzang旅行社(kamzang.com)。
住宿
木斯唐徒步旅行路線中每個較為重要的村子都有客棧或家庭旅館供旅行者入住。經驗豐富的導遊對每個村子的住宿點都很熟悉。
黃安偉是(Edward Wong)是《紐約時報》駐京記者。
本文最初發表於2012年10月28日。
翻譯：毛燕鴻
本文最初發表於2012年10月28日。
翻譯：毛燕鴻
Explorer
Myths and Mountains in Nepal
December 14, 2012
THE tale begins with a demon.
Centuries ago, it destroyed the foundations of a Buddhist monastery under construction in central Tibet. Then Guru Rinpoche, who had brought Buddhism to the kingdom, pursued the demon west, deep into Mustang. The two fought among Mustang’s snow peaks, desert canyons and grasslands. Guru Rinpoche prevailed, and he scattered the demon’s body parts across Mustang: its blood formed towering red cliffs, and its intestines tumbled to the wind-scoured earth east of the cliffs. Later, people would build a wall of prayer stones, the longest in Nepal, atop the intestines.
On the fifth day of our trek, we stood above the demon’s heart. Here,
on a hillside, the people of Mustang had built the monastery of Lo
Gekar, one of the oldest in the Tibetan world. A lama showed us around. I
found no remnants of a demonic heart, but the walls in a dark room at
the rear were covered with paintings of fearsome creatures with fangs
and blue skin. Tibetans called them protector deities. Our guide, Karma,
pulled me over into the shadows and pointed to another wall. I
squinted, and saw a statue of Buddha that had been carved from the rock.
Or so I thought.
“They say the statue is natural and was discovered this way,” Karma said. “People in Mustang have many stories. They believe everything. There are spirits everywhere you look.”
Mustang was a caldron of myth, as I discovered on a 16-day trek through the Himalayan region of Nepal in September. Modernity was creeping in to the area, but the stories that people told had evolved little over centuries. As I walked through the valleys and white-walled villages, I heard tales that brought alive the harsh land, a place of deep ravines and stinging wind and ancient cave homes. It had been this way before the kingdom was united under Ame Pal in the 14th century, and the narratives seem as alive today as ever.
I had longed to visit Mustang ever since I got a glimpse of it while trekking the nearby Annapurna Circuit 12 years ago. On the northern arc of the circuit was the village of Kagbeni, with its red-walled monastery. To the north was an expansive gorge carved by the Kali Gandaki River. Beyond lay Upper Mustang, or the Kingdom of Lo, forbidden to those who did not have a permit from the Nepalese government.
This fall seemed like the right time for me to go. As a boy, I had seen my mother embrace certain Buddhist beliefs, and later I began walking paths in the Himalayas in search of something transcendent in the landscape and the abiding expressions of faith. I would soon turn 40, and my first child was on the way. It was time to make a Himalayan pilgrimage at the close of a chapter of my life and the beginning of another.
There was another reason to visit now. Last year, as a wave of self-immolations swept across the Tibetan plateau, China restricted access to the region — which had already been limited since 2008. For tourists, Mustang is a good alternative. It provides a taste of authentic Tibetan culture, and, like much of Tibet, it lies in the Trans-Himalaya, a vast high-altitude desert to the north of the main Himalayan range, which blocks most of the monsoon clouds that dump rain on India and Southeast Asia in the summer.
Last year, nearly 3,000 tourists entered Upper Mustang, according to statistics in a government office in Kagbeni, an increase of more than 25 percent from about three years earlier. But the permit fee — $500 for 10 days, and $10 for each additional day — still deters many travelers. The low numbers, though, are welcomed by those trekkers looking to avoid the busy Annapurna and Everest trails, as well as by some Mustangis, even ones who say the government needs to give Mustang a greater portion of permit revenue.
“Our land is in one of the most beautiful corners of the world,” said Jigme Singi Palbar Bista, 55, the ceremonial prince of Mustang. “But if a lot of tourists come, we wouldn’t be able to support them all.”
After a week in the Katmandu Valley with my wife, Tini, I met up with my friend Gilles and flew north, between the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri massifs. Many trekkers rush from Kagbeni to Lo Manthang, the walled capital of Mustang, and back in 10 days. We decided to go more slowly and explore some of the hidden corners along the way. Summertime in Nepal is when some of its last remaining nomads set up camp in the high grasslands west of Lo Manthang. In that area, too, are peaks of more than 20,000 feet beckoning to be explored. A 16-day permit would also allow us time to travel up the valleys running north of Lo Manthang, toward Tibet, and then return to Kagbeni along the canyons east of the Kali Gandaki. The eastern half of Mustang was more remote, and it had some of the best-preserved Tibetan Buddhist cave art in the world.
Each day of the trek, I marveled at how the landscape of Mustang was unlike anything I had seen in the Himalayas. It was a place of canyon vistas revolving around the enormous valley of the Kali Gandaki. The trekking routes on both sides of the river ran up and down side valleys. The rivers were low most of the year, but some summer monsoon rains meant we had to ford rivers a half-dozen times.
Much of Upper Mustang is a desolate place, inhabited by about 5,400 people and once crossed only by Tibetan pilgrims and yak caravans. We entered the area on the second day of the trek. There, at a wide stretch of the Kali Gandaki, the waters were flowing high and fast. All our gear was lashed to three horses. Besides Karma, our team consisted of Gombo, a horseman from Lo Manthang, and Fhinju, an ethnic Sherpa cook.
After the trail crossed the Kali Gandaki, it climbed steeply up to the village of Samar, considered the wettest and greenest place in Mustang. Right before dusk, we crossed a pass draped with Tibetan prayer flags and walked down to a lodge. Karma came from Samar, and his brother, the village head, owned the lodge. The main villages in Mustang all had at least one home where trekkers could stay. The rooms had simple beds or a bench with a thick Tibetan wool rug. Exhausted from a long day of trekking, Gilles and I sat down in the warm kitchen for dinner, next to French travelers. For dessert, the brother’s wife prepared apple pie with custard.
From next door came the sound of a pounding drum. “Traveling lamas,” Karma said.
Over the next days, we settled into our trekking routine: get up at 6 or 7, eat breakfast, walk for six to eight hours, reach a village before nightfall. The countryside became more barren the farther north we went, as we approached Lo Manthang. The hues of the mountains — shades of red and brown and ocher — changed each day, and varied with the movement of the sun.
All across the rugged land, people had built Buddhist chortens, or small stupas, atop hills, on pathways leading into villages and even inside caves, in part to ward off spirits that would do them harm. Tibetan Buddhism and the myths were intertwined threads that were in turn woven into the landscape.
With the tail end of the monsoon came the harvest. Villagers were out in the fields cutting down golden stalks of barley. But the harvest also brought out more stories of curses, bad spirits and misfortunes that could befall people. Karma said the high passes that linked Mustang with the arid land of Dolpo to the west could not be crossed until after the harvest, legend had it, lest the harvest end in disaster. The same held for climbing the unnamed peaks that rose to over 20,000 feet west of Lo Manthang. One day, tempting fate, I walked up one. When I reached the snowline, above 19,400 feet, it began hailing. Dark clouds loomed. I went down.
We reached Lo Manthang after that climb and a couple of nights camping near nomad families. We had sat in their black yak-wool tents and sipped cups of buttermilk tea. In Lo Manthang, I spoke to the prince of Mustang (his father, the 80-year-old king, had been ill for weeks) and visited the three red-walled monasteries at the heart of the town. We met a team of dozens of locals being led by an Italian, Luigi Fieni, who was repainting Buddhist artwork in the gargantuan Thubchen Monastery. Its towering roof was held up by a forest of wood pillars and its enormous gilded statues inspired awe.
After two days, we left, following Karma to a place just as singular but hidden by the land. From the village of Yara, we approached a cave east of the Kali Gandaki gorge that was reachable only by a vertical climb. We took off our packs and scrambled up using our hands. One slip and we would have plummeted hundreds of feet to the valley floor.
This was Tashi Kabum, a cave temple that local villagers had opened to the public only a few years ago. Inside was a large white chorten, and painted on the cave walls and roof were some of the best preserved ancient Buddhist art I had ever seen. I could make out lotus petals on the roof. On one wall was a portrait of a lama in red robes. More enigmatic was a painting of a smiling, ivory-skinned man in a seated position. His face was illuminated by sunlight streaming through an opening in the cliffside.
Fhinju, our Sherpa companion, brushed his fingers over the painting. “Chenrezig,” he said, and bowed his head in prayer.
For Tibetan Buddhists, Chenrezig was a bodhisattva embodying compassion. Tibetans believed the Dalai Lama was a reincarnation of him. He was a central figure in Buddhist pantheons across Asia. Growing up in an American suburb, I had watched my mother pray nightly in our living room to a statue of the Chinese incarnation, Guanyin.
Here, as far from my childhood home as it was possible to be, he gazed out at me again. Faith in him had crossed borders and transcended time. The tale took on a different meaning with each person. I stared into his eyes and saw his story unfolding in days to come.
TAKING THE HIGH ROAD
GETTING THERE
Most trekkers enter Upper Mustang at the village of Kagbeni. The nearest airport is at Jomsom, a three-hour walk away. Flights to Jomsom from the resort town of Pokhara cost less than $100 each way. The airlines and frequency vary with the season, and there are often cancellations due to bad weather. But the view from the plane, which passes between some of the world’s highest mountains, is jaw-dropping. One alternative is to take a 14-hour bus ride to Jomsom along a route that has frequent landslides.
GUIDES
Foreigners must arrange their Mustang permits through an individual guide or trekking agency. I recommend hiring a native Mustangi as a guide, though they are hard to find. I used Karma Samdup (karmakurt@hotmail.com), who comes from the village of Samar in Mustang.
If you want to go with a Western-led travel agency, Project Himalaya (project-himalaya.com) and Kamzang (kamzang.com) run treks in Mustang.
LODGING
Every major village on the trekking trails in Mustang has a guesthouse or home where trekkers can stay. An experienced guide knows them all.
Centuries ago, it destroyed the foundations of a Buddhist monastery under construction in central Tibet. Then Guru Rinpoche, who had brought Buddhism to the kingdom, pursued the demon west, deep into Mustang. The two fought among Mustang’s snow peaks, desert canyons and grasslands. Guru Rinpoche prevailed, and he scattered the demon’s body parts across Mustang: its blood formed towering red cliffs, and its intestines tumbled to the wind-scoured earth east of the cliffs. Later, people would build a wall of prayer stones, the longest in Nepal, atop the intestines.
按图放大
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Chortens, small Buddhist stupas, in the village of Tangge.
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
Gilles Sabrie for The New York Times
“They say the statue is natural and was discovered this way,” Karma said. “People in Mustang have many stories. They believe everything. There are spirits everywhere you look.”
Mustang was a caldron of myth, as I discovered on a 16-day trek through the Himalayan region of Nepal in September. Modernity was creeping in to the area, but the stories that people told had evolved little over centuries. As I walked through the valleys and white-walled villages, I heard tales that brought alive the harsh land, a place of deep ravines and stinging wind and ancient cave homes. It had been this way before the kingdom was united under Ame Pal in the 14th century, and the narratives seem as alive today as ever.
I had longed to visit Mustang ever since I got a glimpse of it while trekking the nearby Annapurna Circuit 12 years ago. On the northern arc of the circuit was the village of Kagbeni, with its red-walled monastery. To the north was an expansive gorge carved by the Kali Gandaki River. Beyond lay Upper Mustang, or the Kingdom of Lo, forbidden to those who did not have a permit from the Nepalese government.
This fall seemed like the right time for me to go. As a boy, I had seen my mother embrace certain Buddhist beliefs, and later I began walking paths in the Himalayas in search of something transcendent in the landscape and the abiding expressions of faith. I would soon turn 40, and my first child was on the way. It was time to make a Himalayan pilgrimage at the close of a chapter of my life and the beginning of another.
There was another reason to visit now. Last year, as a wave of self-immolations swept across the Tibetan plateau, China restricted access to the region — which had already been limited since 2008. For tourists, Mustang is a good alternative. It provides a taste of authentic Tibetan culture, and, like much of Tibet, it lies in the Trans-Himalaya, a vast high-altitude desert to the north of the main Himalayan range, which blocks most of the monsoon clouds that dump rain on India and Southeast Asia in the summer.
Last year, nearly 3,000 tourists entered Upper Mustang, according to statistics in a government office in Kagbeni, an increase of more than 25 percent from about three years earlier. But the permit fee — $500 for 10 days, and $10 for each additional day — still deters many travelers. The low numbers, though, are welcomed by those trekkers looking to avoid the busy Annapurna and Everest trails, as well as by some Mustangis, even ones who say the government needs to give Mustang a greater portion of permit revenue.
“Our land is in one of the most beautiful corners of the world,” said Jigme Singi Palbar Bista, 55, the ceremonial prince of Mustang. “But if a lot of tourists come, we wouldn’t be able to support them all.”
After a week in the Katmandu Valley with my wife, Tini, I met up with my friend Gilles and flew north, between the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri massifs. Many trekkers rush from Kagbeni to Lo Manthang, the walled capital of Mustang, and back in 10 days. We decided to go more slowly and explore some of the hidden corners along the way. Summertime in Nepal is when some of its last remaining nomads set up camp in the high grasslands west of Lo Manthang. In that area, too, are peaks of more than 20,000 feet beckoning to be explored. A 16-day permit would also allow us time to travel up the valleys running north of Lo Manthang, toward Tibet, and then return to Kagbeni along the canyons east of the Kali Gandaki. The eastern half of Mustang was more remote, and it had some of the best-preserved Tibetan Buddhist cave art in the world.
Each day of the trek, I marveled at how the landscape of Mustang was unlike anything I had seen in the Himalayas. It was a place of canyon vistas revolving around the enormous valley of the Kali Gandaki. The trekking routes on both sides of the river ran up and down side valleys. The rivers were low most of the year, but some summer monsoon rains meant we had to ford rivers a half-dozen times.
Much of Upper Mustang is a desolate place, inhabited by about 5,400 people and once crossed only by Tibetan pilgrims and yak caravans. We entered the area on the second day of the trek. There, at a wide stretch of the Kali Gandaki, the waters were flowing high and fast. All our gear was lashed to three horses. Besides Karma, our team consisted of Gombo, a horseman from Lo Manthang, and Fhinju, an ethnic Sherpa cook.
After the trail crossed the Kali Gandaki, it climbed steeply up to the village of Samar, considered the wettest and greenest place in Mustang. Right before dusk, we crossed a pass draped with Tibetan prayer flags and walked down to a lodge. Karma came from Samar, and his brother, the village head, owned the lodge. The main villages in Mustang all had at least one home where trekkers could stay. The rooms had simple beds or a bench with a thick Tibetan wool rug. Exhausted from a long day of trekking, Gilles and I sat down in the warm kitchen for dinner, next to French travelers. For dessert, the brother’s wife prepared apple pie with custard.
From next door came the sound of a pounding drum. “Traveling lamas,” Karma said.
Over the next days, we settled into our trekking routine: get up at 6 or 7, eat breakfast, walk for six to eight hours, reach a village before nightfall. The countryside became more barren the farther north we went, as we approached Lo Manthang. The hues of the mountains — shades of red and brown and ocher — changed each day, and varied with the movement of the sun.
All across the rugged land, people had built Buddhist chortens, or small stupas, atop hills, on pathways leading into villages and even inside caves, in part to ward off spirits that would do them harm. Tibetan Buddhism and the myths were intertwined threads that were in turn woven into the landscape.
With the tail end of the monsoon came the harvest. Villagers were out in the fields cutting down golden stalks of barley. But the harvest also brought out more stories of curses, bad spirits and misfortunes that could befall people. Karma said the high passes that linked Mustang with the arid land of Dolpo to the west could not be crossed until after the harvest, legend had it, lest the harvest end in disaster. The same held for climbing the unnamed peaks that rose to over 20,000 feet west of Lo Manthang. One day, tempting fate, I walked up one. When I reached the snowline, above 19,400 feet, it began hailing. Dark clouds loomed. I went down.
We reached Lo Manthang after that climb and a couple of nights camping near nomad families. We had sat in their black yak-wool tents and sipped cups of buttermilk tea. In Lo Manthang, I spoke to the prince of Mustang (his father, the 80-year-old king, had been ill for weeks) and visited the three red-walled monasteries at the heart of the town. We met a team of dozens of locals being led by an Italian, Luigi Fieni, who was repainting Buddhist artwork in the gargantuan Thubchen Monastery. Its towering roof was held up by a forest of wood pillars and its enormous gilded statues inspired awe.
After two days, we left, following Karma to a place just as singular but hidden by the land. From the village of Yara, we approached a cave east of the Kali Gandaki gorge that was reachable only by a vertical climb. We took off our packs and scrambled up using our hands. One slip and we would have plummeted hundreds of feet to the valley floor.
This was Tashi Kabum, a cave temple that local villagers had opened to the public only a few years ago. Inside was a large white chorten, and painted on the cave walls and roof were some of the best preserved ancient Buddhist art I had ever seen. I could make out lotus petals on the roof. On one wall was a portrait of a lama in red robes. More enigmatic was a painting of a smiling, ivory-skinned man in a seated position. His face was illuminated by sunlight streaming through an opening in the cliffside.
Fhinju, our Sherpa companion, brushed his fingers over the painting. “Chenrezig,” he said, and bowed his head in prayer.
For Tibetan Buddhists, Chenrezig was a bodhisattva embodying compassion. Tibetans believed the Dalai Lama was a reincarnation of him. He was a central figure in Buddhist pantheons across Asia. Growing up in an American suburb, I had watched my mother pray nightly in our living room to a statue of the Chinese incarnation, Guanyin.
Here, as far from my childhood home as it was possible to be, he gazed out at me again. Faith in him had crossed borders and transcended time. The tale took on a different meaning with each person. I stared into his eyes and saw his story unfolding in days to come.
TAKING THE HIGH ROAD
GETTING THERE
Most trekkers enter Upper Mustang at the village of Kagbeni. The nearest airport is at Jomsom, a three-hour walk away. Flights to Jomsom from the resort town of Pokhara cost less than $100 each way. The airlines and frequency vary with the season, and there are often cancellations due to bad weather. But the view from the plane, which passes between some of the world’s highest mountains, is jaw-dropping. One alternative is to take a 14-hour bus ride to Jomsom along a route that has frequent landslides.
GUIDES
Foreigners must arrange their Mustang permits through an individual guide or trekking agency. I recommend hiring a native Mustangi as a guide, though they are hard to find. I used Karma Samdup (karmakurt@hotmail.com), who comes from the village of Samar in Mustang.
If you want to go with a Western-led travel agency, Project Himalaya (project-himalaya.com) and Kamzang (kamzang.com) run treks in Mustang.
LODGING
Every major village on the trekking trails in Mustang has a guesthouse or home where trekkers can stay. An experienced guide knows them all.
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