Recalling 11th Grade Hemkund Trip
Dear Reader,
On my 11th-grade class trip, we went on a pilgrimage to a Sikh Gurudwara, Shri Hemkund Sahib in Uttarakhand, a site of 15,200 feet (about half the height of Mount Everest) above sea level. Some people called it the “Lake of Snow,” because of the snow-capped hills standing tall above the glacier lake. Sikh communities worldwide have a high opinion of trekking up to the Gurudwara because the 10th Guru, Guru Gobind Singh Ji (notorious Khalsa warrior and composer of Dasam Granth, Sikh recitation), meditated there for 10 years. This class trip was one of the high-listed school breaks. Because sabbaticals are suitable for your physical and mental wellness, trekking to Hemkund Sahib will embark on an everlasting culture shock and adventurous personal story.
In the article “How Well Do You Know What Motivates You?” the author states “It’s not enough to notice motivations: what’s important is to discuss them.” (Kendall, par. 12) Hiking day after day with your closest friends and playing Dungeon and Dragons, eating Maggie (cheap Indian underestimated noodles) together at chai stands, and facing physical and emotional struggles were memorable that isn’t likely to occur again. We all were competitive and constantly pushed each other by gossiping about rewards for the winner. Our mission was to make it to the summit in 5 days, which meant non-stop trekking and one-night stays in Nivas (free of charge Sikh charitable hotels). Despite the fatigue, we challenged one another by organizing regular group meetings and discussing expectations of arriving at the lake of snow.
According to Cody Delistraty in “The Importance of Eating Together” eating together mitigates people’s self-centered attitude and brings out more empathy. (pg. 227) Throughout the whole journey, local Sikh communities offered langar, which was a community kitchen of a Gurdwara offering costless meals. Such a communal meal is overwhelming and staggering when you consider the attendees eating every day. I have always admired Sikhism for its selfless service aspect to communities across the globe and their bondage to each other. In Sikhism, Langar (Communal meal) and Nivas (Hotels free of charge) were offered to everyone regardless of religion, caste, and gender. Despite my classmates and I looking physically different from everyone at the Gurdwara, we were welcomed with grandiose hospitality.
I will never forget arriving at the peak of Hemkund Sahib. It was at the border of Tibet with a bird-eye-view of the whole district. As cold as it could get, you would see spiritual brothers and sisters trekking barefoot with their cheap wooden trekking poles. I never understood why they hiked barefoot, weren’t they afraid of frostbite, skin prickling off, and worst of all, numbness? It was only later that I found out barefoot symbolizes mitigation of ego, not wearing shoes meant poverty and despite their social status, all wished to be equal on this journey. When you reach the top with exhaustion, Panchayats (local leaders) and Sevadaars (Volunteers) will offer steaming hot chai. One of the sweetest masala chai I tried — maybe since my mouth was dry and quenched for not drinking anything for half the day. Air set off my face red on the cheeks, nose, and forehead because of frosty breezes and dryness. A few of my friends got altitude sickness and rested indoors at the Gurdwara before our group Isnaan (holy dip in a Gurdwara lake).
As we finished our brief Chai break, we went to pay respect to the Gurdwara. The temple of worship was intimidating. As you entered, you will see a person reciting Guru Granth Sahib (Sikh) before you at a distance. It is customary to acknowledge it by walking up and getting into a prostrate position before it and subvocalizing a chant or wish. You would see Kirtan (Sikh scriptures recited in songs) playing beside Guru Granth Sahib, a table (Indian classical drum instrument) player drumming beats to the tunes of the Harmonium (hand-pumped organ instrument). After bowing, I joined the man group sitting on the right side. Everyone had turbans (bandana or cloth) covered on their heads. Silently eating their Prasad (religious wheat halva offering) and listening to the Kirtan with their eyes closed.
Although I had a marvelous time on this trip, I encountered a near-death experience (NDE). Maybe it’s because of my stupidity, or carefree attitude. Our class had to take Ishaan (sacred bathing ritual) in the Humkund lake, 14202 feet glacier lake. As a group, we isnaaned at the edges holding each other as we bathed. Satinder Pal, a close friend, slipped into the icy water and began drowning. I tried being a hero and dove into the water expecting to reach him as soon as possible. I guess watching lots of hero’s journey movies helps in these circumstances. The water was freezing, and my arms and legs started giving up. Pulled him towards me awkwardly while trying to float. He was so frantic and started pushing me down as I pulled him up. Even though I had prior swimming experience for a decade, the water was too cold not to get numb. I struggled to keep the airway clear of water, my arms and legs gave up the circulation motion, and I began getting frantic. My calm state of relaxation in the water ceased and I felt cold shock and tingling spreading all over. Although I cannot remember what happened when we were both drowning, we somehow managed to get out.
The 11th-grade vacation turned out to be an educational and entertaining experience. Close encounters with death made me grateful for this precious life, walking into Gurdwaras taught me about the sanctity of spaces, and all in all, I have a memorable personal anecdote from this class trip. Although my perspective of this incident wasn’t optimistic in the past, through maturity and time my outlook changed for the better.
Peace,
Banza Tanyi
