Chronicles of Leeches and La Pi Gu

La Pi Gu, or "Spicy Butt," is the sensation in your ass when you try to take a dump the morning after eating spicy food and discover you are not able to, OR are TOO able.

On our one and only night in Beijing (en route from Tibet to SFO), we celebrated with a bounteous and SPICY Ma La Hot Pot fest. The next day, we paid dearly for this reckless indulgence in spice. At any one point in time, there were at least 2 of us in an airport or airplane bathroom, leaving fragrant gifts everywhere we went. All day long, we took turns crouching on the throne at the Beijing airport, in the airplane on the flight to Seoul, at the Kimpo airport in Seoul, and on the flight to San Francisco.

Brian
Despite taking daily doses of Pepto Bismol before every meal, Brian disproved the (questionable) prophylactic power of Pepto by getting loose stool the very first morning of the trek. After this, Brian gingerly stuck to eating very small quantities instead. This seemed to work quite well (and some would argue that Richard should have followed Brian’s consumption-regulation method, see below for Richard), but perhaps he missed out on the joyous satisfaction of gluttonous satiation? Brian received the bloodiest, most gruesome leech attacks as well as experienced extreme nausea while driving through the highest summit at Karo-la pass (over 15,000 ft.). Although he did not suffer from diarrhea for most of the trip, the morning after the Hot Pot fest, Brian did learn what it meant to have “La Pi Gu,” passing three stools in the hotel, one at the Beijing airport and another on the airplane.

Richard
Plagued with stomach ailments throughout the trip, onset began with severe diarrhea on our rainiest, leechy-est and most difficult day of trekking. After the final count, Richard ended up passing six stools in 24 hours with impressive punctuality (three at camp and three on the trail every four hours). While hiking in the rain and leeches, Richard also suffered delirium and severe weakness (as a result of dehydration from diarrhea) but was lucky to have leeches chew on him in only two places - one on his upper thigh (dangerously close to you-know-what) and another on his upper lip. Though Richard definitely gets the award for most food-related cases of diarrhea and stomach cramping, he was the only one who did not experience an iota of altitude sickness. After literally gorging himself on hot pot in Beijing, Richard spent all of the next day either squatting painfully on the can or doubled over from cramps.

Jonathan
Every couple of days, Jon would complain of constipation – this was due more to his obstinate reluctance to use campsite outhouses than to any GI bug. Against the forces of nature and gravity, Jon was able to hold his dumps to a minimum of one every two to three days. Consequently, Jon’s favorite topic of conversation during every meal was the consistency, duration and satisfaction of his infrequent ‘loafs’. Jon was ‘leeched’ right between the eyes and all over his legs, putting him in third place for grossness of leech attacks. Although he refrained from eating too much spicy Hot Pot in Beijing, Jon still spent most of the next day in and out of airport bathrooms.

Me
Following Brian’s lead, I made up for lack of diarrhea attacks with abundance in leech attacks. Sporting a myriad of battle scars, I counted four on the left leg, seven on the right, one near my chest (dangerously close to ‘you-know-what’), and one on my waist. Stephanie was convinced this was due to my damn poncho, since it dragged on the ground and provided a smooth surface for crawling leeches. I experienced altitude sickness our first day in Lhasa, feeling weak, extremely fatigued, then woozy, dizzy, and nauseous. Luckily, at 15,000 feet, I experienced only a pounding headache and shortness of breath, but no accompanying nausea. I had thought about taking Diamox, but the consequence of peeing more than I already did was definitely the deciding and deterring factor, not to mention the thought of spending even more time in nasty Tibetan outhouses.

Peter
Despite being leeched between the toes and on his neck while asleep, Pete escaped relatively unscathed by leech attacks. Perhaps Nepalese leeches can’t stomach Caucasion blood? Pete remained healthy as a bull (and burped like one too!) until that fateful dinner at “Friends Snowlands” near Samye monastery. From that dinner until the end of the trip, Pete no longer found all food “awesome!” and unhappily succumbed to skipping breakfast, drinking coke for lunch, and having soup for dinner. Altitude sickness did not seem to affect Pete until we climbed over 15,000 feet, at which point he too was put out by a pounding headache and nausea. The morning after hot pot, it was no surprise that Pete had “the most severe diarrhea in his life.”

Stephanie
The first to get a leech on her shoe, Stephanie was actually unharmed by leeches overall, and instead, was beset by various other physical problems. In Sikles village, she contracted a bad cold from touching ‘snotty’ Nepalese kids and trekked for several days with mucous and phlegm plugging all orifices. During our first few days in Tibet, Stephanie dealt with the diuretic effects of Diamox, which was a big buzz kill given the loveliness of Tibetan outhouses (I felt her pain). We determined that a spider must have crawled into her sleeping bag at Samye because she found small red bumps all over her hands and feet a day later. The day after that fateful “Snowlands” dinner, Stephanie was weakened by waves of nausea until she (conveniently) threw up in Brian’s bathroom at the Wusi Hotel in Gyantse. The next day, Stephanie was also unable to enjoy the majestic sights of Karo-la pass (at over 15,000 feet) because she was debilitated by waves of nausea, fatigue, and dizziness until we descended to lower elevations.

We survived the leeches

(8-Day Trek in the Annapurna region of Nepal)

Kimpo Airport (Seoul, Korea): Yearning for Nepal
Nothing like an eleven-hour plane ride and a ten-hour layover in a stuffy, stagnant airport transfer room to kick off our Himalayan adventure. The unforgettable stench of chlorine that emanates from the bathroom (attempting to hide the stink of urine underneath) welcomes us back to Asia.

It’s 6 a.m. We reluctantly settle into our pink and periwinkle blue chintz chairs, play gin rummy and eat sesame-flavored dried fish chips, trail mix, and wasabe peas for the next FOUR hours.

Six more hours to go and we’ve already exhausted our taste buds. It’s 10 a.m. and the highlight of our day is the complimentary box lunch to compensate us for the long layover. The only thing that keeps me sane is reading the many travel books about Nepal and Tibet and daydreaming about our long-awaited adventure.

Three more hours to go and extreme restlessness takes over. Every part of our bodies and butts are at once both sore and numb from disuse, and our spirit and
energy are drained even though we have not moved in the last seven hours.


Day 1: Katmandu to Pokhra (drive), Bijayapur to Bhurjungkhola (hike)
We camped at Bhurjungkhola (a river running next to our camp), nestled amongst terraced rice fields and snow-capped mountains in the distance. At our
campsite, two village women and two small girls carried large stone slabs, slung by a strap to their head, to the men who were building the trail path
(presumably for western trekkers).

Because we were following special trails marked out by the Annapurna Conservation Project, every campsite was equipped with an outhouse, primitive kitchen space, and an Eco-lodge for trekkers’ use. This was a simple, concrete room in which we could eat meals, change clothing, store our bags, and hang up a clothing line to dry clothing.

Our first dinner was a hearty, gourmet meal of mushroom soup and thinly fried Indian bread, green beans, fried SPAM cutlets, bell peppers, sausages, fried potatoes and fragrant mangos for dessert.


Day 2: Bhurjungkhola to Ghalekhalakara
We barely had time to enjoy the dewy air before the drizzling turned into a steady down pour. Monsoon season had arrived early this year and we would soon suffer the consequences.

The heavy, unforgiving sheets of rain drenched our hopes for sun. The next four hours, we climbed steep, windy stone steps, rising almost 2,000 feet in the miserable rain and fog. The dense blanket of white, impenetrable fog dashed any hopes (sigh) we had of seeing what we knew to be a magnificent view around us.

Luckily, I had purchased a nepalese rain poncho before we had started out that morning, but I was still wet and sweaty, and suffering from pee shivers (with the world's smallest bladder, of course I had to pee the minute we first started trekking).

“Squish, squish, squish……SHLURP!” These were the sounds of our water-logged socks squirting and sliding in sopping wet boots. AND, of tiny, slithering LEECHES sucking voraciously at our blood!

These little suckers have an uncanny ability to find and draw blood. When unsuspecting trekkers pass by, the leeches cling onto boots, socks, pant legs (even those tucked tightly into socks) and are able to bore through anything in their quest for blood. I was attacked and literally spouted blood through various orifices in my legs. Once we discovered and recovered from the first attack, we spent the rest of the day obsessively preoccupied with pulling off nasty leeches. On the trail, we had to stop about every 20 minutes for a leech check. Before entering our Eco-lodge at each campsite, we had to perform leech checks. Before entering our tents, we had to perform leech checks.

Dinner the second night was another fanciful meal with tomato soup, vegetable spring rolls, tuna, potatoes, franks and beans, cabbage and dessert, followed by a choice of hot tea, hot milk or hot water.

Day 3: Ghalekhalakara to Sikles
Another rainy day, another feast for the leeches. Certain more paranoid members of our group invented clever ways to keep out the leeches - Brian and Jonathan taped up their pant legs and socks with medical adhesive bandages, covering the entire foot, ankle and lower leg with swaths of white bandage.

Brian went the extra step and cut the bottom of his plastic, red poncho to make a pair of protective Superman booties. These were held together with duck tape and worn under the double-layer of socks and pants.

Our Nepalese guides gave us the ultimate fighting weapon- a cloth sac filled with salt (and wetted for greater effectiveness) readily whisks away pesky leeches.

Today was our longest and most strenuous hike yet (seven hours) and we were lucky to get the first few hours of our climb free of rain. We climbed uphill for about four hours until it began to rain heavily for the next two to three hours. Beaten and battered by the steady down pour, we walked like zombies, slipping and sliding on wet rocks and grass.

Richard was the first to fall prey to Nepalese bacteria, perhaps due to one too many fried spring rolls the night before? (We found that severity of diarrhea is definitely proportional to the amount of food eaten)

After a bad night of loose bowels (albeit they hit with amazing regularity at four-hour intervals), too many craps left him weak and trembling. An top of that, Richard endured fever chills, stomach pangs and lightning-fast diarrhea attacks like you wouldn’t believe. They hit so fast there was not enough time to dig a hole. yikes.

We finally reached our campsite drenched, disheveled and trickling blood from various leech wounds. When I stripped the wet wool socks from my pruned feet, gooey, red blood oozed profusely from seven leech wounds on the right leg and four on the left. I didn't know whether to wipe or to just let it ooze.

Meanwhile, I could hear Brian muttering and cussing in the background. He was hit the hardest and his wounds continuously spouted phosphorescent red GOO for several hours. I felt queasy just looking at the excessively sticky, thick red rivers of blood trickle down his leg.

We waited for over three hours in our damp clothing in the miserably cold Eco-lodge. Due to the heavy rains and low visibility, the porter (who we later dubbed 'drunkard') responsible for carrying our bags had gotten lost in the rain! We said a silent prayer and hoped that the porter had not accidentally fallen, along with our bags, into a steep ravine.

It continued to pour for the next few hours, and we crowded around the prune-sized white flame of a kerosene lamp. Six of us alternately warmed our hands, feet, legs, wet shoes, wet socks and body around the tiny but valuable warmth. By the time the ‘drunk’ porter found his way back, Richard was delirious from fever chills and intense stomach pain, Brian was still bleeding profusely, and Jonathan’s shoes had emanated stinky odors into the already moldy room.

Eventually, the rain stopped and the clouds even cleared so that we could see two villages sitting on the mountain slopes across the valley, right at the level of the clouds. This was the first day that we have been able to see anything other than dense, white fog. As nightfall approached, hot tea and dinner warmed our stomachs and lifted everyone’s spirits. Because it had rained so much the previous night, our tents were too wet to pitch, so we all had to sleep in the moldy room, side by side.

We prepared for a sleepless night with clapping beetles the size of small goldfish, fluorescent yellow and black spiders, bright red ants, hungry mosquitoes, a MONSTROUS flying cockroach, and an unknown number of leeches (that were probably waiting to attack us in unsuspecting sleep). After the final leech check, which produced one in Pete’s pant leg and another in Stephanie’s sock, everyone lathered up in Jungle Juice and we squirted one long, protective line of DEET above our heads.

As usual, Jonathan fell sound asleep in two seconds flat and his loud guttural snores attested to this. No one else slept a wink that night – Brian was too paranoid about leeches and sat up the entire night because he was afraid something might fall on him, Richard was too paranoid about having to go outside to take a dump and getting attacked by leeches, Pete was too paranoid after a leech dropped out of nowhere onto his neck (in the middle of the night!), I was too close to Jonathan’s gutteral snores to sleep, and
Stephanie was having paranoid delusions about leeches in her fitful sleep.

So far, our trek has consisted of hiking in the rain, checking for slimy leeches (and being paranoid about them when we weren’t checking), and eating three STARCHY meals a day (which, as you all know, is my faaaaavorite). I have not had three meals a day since high school! And all we’ve really seen of Nepal thus far is dense, white fog and wet, tropical jungle.

Daily Routine
Every morning, the kitchen assistant, Ringi Sherpa, gives us a wake-up call with “tatocheya” (hot tea) and a washing basin of water.

Breakfast is served at 6:30, consisting of eggs (scrambled, boiled or sunny-side up), toast, cereal and oatmeal. We start the morning hike by 7:00 or 7:30.

The Sherpas usually set up tables and small folding chairs for our meals. Hot lunch is served at 11:30 or noon and consists of french fries, home-style potatoes (or some sort of fried starch form), melted cheese on everything, sausage or spam for meat, a vegetable dish and fruit. Lunch is followed by “tatopani” (hot water), “cheya” (tea) or “tatoduk” (hot milk), and an assortment of coffee and hot chocolate.

We start the afternoon hike and reach camp by 3:00 or 4:00, before it starts to rain again. Once the assistant guides put up our tents, afternoon tea and biscuits are served.

Dinner is served at 6:30, consisting of soup for appetizer and 3 or 4 main dishes similar to lunch.

Day 4: Sikles village (of the Gurung people)
We hiked to nearby Sikles village and, within minutes, snapped HUNDREDS of photos of local Gurung children calling out “Namaste! (hello) Namaste! Chocolate! Pens!”. (We learned later that Nepalese village children love to ask for pens and chocolate from western trekkers. Interestingly enough, there
are signs that specifically instruct hikers not to give out chocolate to children.)

We passed by a grandmother feeding a tiny baby on the porch of a clay
and straw-roofed house, a baby water buffalo and baby chicks tended to by an elderly man, and several groups of children asking for chocolate. To thank them for posing so graciously, I gave them each half a stick of gum. (Hopefully, no one choked!) We watched an elderly blacksmith pound hot iron into the shape o a hoe and two women working cornfields and plucking weeds with iron hoes. All the young men of the village were conspicuously gone because they are soldiers for the famous ‘Gorkha’ regiment of the British and Indian armies.

Today was our first sunny and nice day, ‘sunny’ meaning it did not rain as much during daylight hours and ‘nice’ meaning we could actually see the surrounding landscape. Afternoon activities included Brian cleansing himself buck naked under a running faucet (while a group of village women peeped and giggled), myself photographing water buffalo graze and chew cud, and Stephanie making friends with a local village girl. Afternoon fog and clouds emanate fro mthe valley floor and move across the sky. Stephanie and I spent an entire afternoon staring at the sky, clouds and mountains while the boys started their interminable game of hearts.

At 6:30 sharp, thick fog and clouds rolled in with lightning speed, engulfing us in thick fog. In a matter of seconds, the heavy rains threatened to topple our dinner tent. Only moments before, the sky was clear and a peaceful dusk was upon us. Now, the sky was black and the rain was so strong that we thought the roof of our Eco-lodge would collapse.

Our first challenge was to get all the kitchenware and dinner inside the Eco-lodge, but not track in any unwanted leeches. After dinner, we had to find a
leech-free place to pee. The boys had it easy since they could pee off the side of the Eco-lodge, into the wind and rain. Stephanie and I took turns squatting
and peeing under the protection of a large umbrella, rather than risk attack by leeches in our tented outhouse on the grass. In our tents, the final challenge was to kill the hundreds of bugs and fleas that had roosted on the domed-ceiling of our tent. I sprayed Cutter Skinsations all over the tent (hoping
to kill via fumigation) and Stephanie unmercifully swatted the dazed bugs to the ground. That night, we slept to the sounds of a torrential flood above our heads, in a tent filled with dead bugs and bug parts.

By now, all six of us constantly itch from either mosquito bites, flea bites, mysterious red bumps on our legs, old leech scars or the paranoid sensation of
bugs crawling on our face or leeches sucking on some body part.

Day 5: Sikles to Lamkhet
Our first very sunny day! We were completely unprepared for the sun and got extremely burned. We hiked through the village of Panchet, where we saw
women working the fields and a young man tilling the field with two water buffalo. All along our descent, we passed through lush, green rice terraces, which traversed entire mountain slopes. We passed caravans of donkeys (with bells on their necks) carrying rice bags, herds of goats, and multitudes of village school children asking for pens and chocolate. I took pity on one little girl (because she posed so patiently through a dozen camera flashes) and shared a Lemon zest Luna bar with her. We followed the path of the Madi Kola (river) and descended into an exotic, primeval valley, where villages were nestled in
tropical forests and the sea-green river coursed through the lush foliage.

At the campsite, we dunked our sweaty and grime-encrusted bodies into the freezing river, hoping to cleanse off days worth of nastiness. In the hasty
spirit of cleansing, Jonathan dove into the river with WHITE boxers. Stephanie and I averted our eyes in time, but the village women watching from the hills
above us pointed and giggled. Once again, brethren Brian and Jonathan prove their blood connection – by having no shame and laying bare their bodies for the
local Nepalese women.hehe.

We have been packing and unpacking perpetually damp clothing and socks since day two of this trek. Even when the clothes hang on a line to dry, the stench of
sweat stinks to high heaven and the B.O. lingers in the air, becoming more wretched and unbearable with every passing day. My clothing and wet sneakers stank so much it was enough to make me pass out, AND, I was also carrying around three pairs of blood-stained pants, remnants of leech attacks.

Day 6: Lamkhet to Kalikhthan (most picturesque/best campsite of trip)
We woke to, big surprise, rain and fog. It had rained during the night (as it had every night previous) and all the clothing that had been hung outside was soaked through. Don’t ask me why we didn’t take everything down before nightfall.

We started our hike in a light morning mist, madly shooting photos as the peak of Lamjung Himal peered out for just a moment between the puffy clouds. This
view lasted for almost twenty minutes before the clouds again enveloped our precious snow-capped mountains. Sadly, this was probably the longest
period of viewing Annapurna range mountain peaks during the eight days.

We walked through fields of corn and millet, spotted with beautifully painted orange clay homes of Hindu villages. These homes were dome-shaped, had fancy roof structures (sturdy straw roofs with ornate wood carving supports), and painted reddish-orange walls.

“Namaste! Namaste!” These gleeful screams of welcome (or maybe they just wanted chocolate and pens) followed us all the way through our hike. We photographed the adorable Hindu children, especially the little girls with cute boyish cuts and brilliant gold and ruby-red nose rings and earrings. The beautiful yellow gold shone in stark contrast to their dark, exotic complexions and luscious deep black hair.

Day 7: Kalikhthan to Begnas Tal
The air today was dripping with moisture and steamy heat. We walked in this sweltering heat up, down and around several mountain passes and stopped for a hot lunch of fried potato bread, mackerel and sausages. Low, billowy clouds and a blistering sun burned us alive, but no one complained because there were no
leeches and no rain! Stephanie, Richard and I all went to ‘cop a loaf’, out on a sunny hill next to grazing water buffalo. hehe.

Begnas Tal (lake) was definitely more picturesque from a distance. The closer we got the more we could see that it was unbearably hot, swampy, dirty, and crowded with rich, vacationing Hindus. Our last campsite of the trip looked, smelled and felt like we were at the bottom of a swampy pile of cow DUNG. It was by far the smelliest, ugliest, hottest, dirtiest, most humid, and nasty campsite I have ever encountered. The conditions were less than minimally sanitary, and the “showers” were as dismal as medieval dungeons. Jonathan, Pete and Brian opted for the urine-infested showers, until the water ran out and Pete had to shower out of a bucket. Stephanie, Richard (not because he wanted to but because there was no water in the other shower) and I used the outside “shower,” which was actually a dark and dank room with a chest-level cold water faucet. This shower was complete with an ant-infested mirror, sink covered in
grime, and walls covered in mold. Washing off 7 days of sweat was a tiresome and time-consuming process, what with balancing all body parts in order not to
touch any gross surfaces as well as trying to wipe everything dry with a tiny hand towel.

This night’s dinner was the most scrumptious of the trip - an authentic, traditional Nepalese meal cooked by our Nepalese chefs. Our meal included dahl
(lentils) baat (rice), sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes, spicy chicken curry, potato and cauliflower curry and hot chili sauce on the side. There were so many bugs flying in confused circles around the hanging kerosene lamp it looked like tens of thousands of glow-sticks being spun around at a rave.

This night’s sleep was absolutely the most intolerable hell I’d ever experienced. Encased in the stifling plastic bubbles of our tents, the air was stifling and deathly claustrophobic. I was so hot I had to spray myself with mosquito repellant to cool down and I lay awake praying that dawn would come soon else I would suffocate to death. I could not wait to get out of this mosquito-infested, flea-infested goat dung of a campsite.

Day 8: Drive back to Kathmandu
After a sleepless, sweaty night that lasted an eternity, dawn finally broke with the welcome sounds of trucks honking, dogs barking and roosters crowing. I had not slept all night, I had not been able to breathe, and I was sticky and sweaty and itchy from flea bites.

After a bumpy, dusty seven hour drive back to Kathmandu, we were so glad to be back in ‘civilization.’ Civilization, as far as we were concerned, meant hot showers, access to e-mail, cheap Indian food in the touristy Thamel district, and SHOPPING.

As soon as we entered our rooms, we emptied out the smelly contents of our bags to dry. The boys’ rooms WREAKED of raunchy sock and miscellaneous odors. Then, we hit the shops of Thamel in a mad dash to buy gifts before the stores closed. After dinner, we strolled around the western club and bar area of Thamel. This area was a creature-comfort haven for young hippies, college
students travelling during their summer break, and western backpackers who crave a Guinness Stout and an apple pie.