Memoir

The Himalayan Plains

The Himalayan Plains

Wedged between the Hindu Kush to the West, Tibet to the North and the mysterious Bhutan to the East lies the fifteen hundred miles of solid mountain range, the highest in the world, known as the Himalayas. The Himalayas are so vast that they encroach on a number of countries, but the bulk of the range and the alluvial plains that flow southward from them constitute the country of Nepal. This area is the attic of the world and is as remote as almost any region on earth, less because of its location, which is somewhat central between the two most highly populated countries in the world, China and India, which combined house 36% of the worlds total population, and are the each over a billion people stronger than the next closest country, the United States. Nepal has a mere 30 million souls, so to say it is wedged in between the two behemoths would be an understatement. Furthermore, with a GDP/capita of $1,200 compared to India’s $2,200 and CHina’s burgeoning $10,500, this is a rather poor slice of the Asian continent. The lack of oxygen at those altitudes is almost a sign of the overall lack of sustenance available on those plains. Nepal ranks about 159th out of 190 nations in key measures of wealth even though we all think that sherpas who venture up to Mt. Everest must be paid well to provision all the amateur climbers seeking to notch their guns with those peaks.

Our hilltop neighbors to the North of us, who just moved in, are Nepalese. We have now met the couple who technically own the property, both of whom are very Americanized, as well as both sets of more traditional Nepalese parents, who speak very little English. It is unclear whether the parents will be residing there permanently or are just on extended visits, but they seem to more than earn their keep by gardening. That property has over eight acres, which is mostly scrub oak and Boulder chaparral, not unlike what this property was like twenty years ago before it was developed and lived upon. While that house was not built so very long after this house, it was lived in for most of the time by an elderly woman who was apparently not so inclined to do any major property upgrading and gardening. This is not the case with the new Nepalese neighbors. They have lived there now for several months and based on the daily activity by the in-laws and the weekend activity by the whole family, their intention is to conquer the hillside and bring it to heel. Unlike this property, which claims its place on the hilltop with the land falling away gently in all directions, that property is more of a side hill lie, not so much facing the Oceans as we do, but more facing into the large ravine to the north. It so happens that their lot extends behind our lot to the northwest, but that lies downhill from us so that its views are also more into the ravine than anywhere else. The chaparral is beautiful in its own right, but I must admit I prefer to be able to see chaparral and ocean all at once..

I made the mistake at our first encounter with the Nepalese family of suggesting that they must feel right at home on these craggy and rock-strewn hillsides. Quite the contrary, they said it was totally different from what they were used to in Nepal. That shows the subtleties of perception. When I look at pictures of the countryside in Nepal, I see mountains, grassy hills and terraced and stone-covered hillsides. I guess there are no volcanically formed and strewn boulders like we have here and the chaparral is more sage green than the lush and verdant green of the alluvial plains fed by the snowmelt of the highest mountains on earth. Upon reflection, I found my comment and supposition rather broad-brush in conflating green and rocky hills between the two very different zones. Nonetheless, that hasn’t stopped the family of born gardeners from digging right into the tasks at hand. Earth is earth. Vegetation is vegetation. Trees are trees. But then, sooner or later drought tolerance is bound to enter the picture.

Today, the owner, Ramesh, who is perhaps mid-thirties, texted to say that he is having work done this week on expanding the concrete driveway, broadening it a few feet in our direction. He was calling as a courtesy and then went on to say that he would follow the driveway work with some plantings along his fence-line. He then stated in a matter-of-fact way that he would then start working on improving his back hillside. That was my cue to invite him and his in-laws over to get a tour of what I have just completed on my back hillside.

I met the three in the driveway and gave them the grand tour, the play area that bounds their property, the four large ficus trees that I had pruned last spring, and all the cascading succulents and cacti. They were mightily impressed by the cactus garden and commented that they have admired it daily as they pass by. I then took them through our citrus garden and down the hillside to see the rose garden, the boulder art, including the buffalo (a.k.a. Bison Boulder) and all the new plantings. We discussed the various drought-tolerant options and I spent time extolling the virtues of the humble ice plant varieties that are planted liberally all across the back hillside. I was able to show them long-established beds, year-old plantings, groundcover planted this spring and the most recent summer planting. That and all forty plus yards of mulch which I payed down in a series of massive beds all across the hillside. I got the feeling that his father-in-law was taking mental notes and the mother-in-law was just admiring the flowers. Ramesh is a bit of a talker and he prattled on about their plans and what would come next. I told them about my soon-to-be-delivered electric mulch wheelbarrow and told him he could borrow it to move the many yards he would need for his much larger hillside. He responded by offering the loan of his new electric rototiller. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I have no intention of planting vegetables and that I was strictly an ornamental gardener.

While on the hillside, we were joined by Kim and Betty, so everyone had the chance to chime in on the beauty of the sunsets and the pleasures of reshaping the landscape, piece by piece. In fact, that was my big advice to my new Nepalese friends, that they should be sure to take it bit by bit and realize that it is a never-ending project.

I am not sure if I\we will be traveling to Nepal any time soon as the altitude tends to scare me off. The capital of Kathmandu is like Slat Lake City at 4,600’, well short of Denver or Mexico City. But Kathmandu is in the lowlands of the alluvial plains of Nepal and the temptation once there will always be to venture uphill into the lovely hidden temples and eventually into the Himalayan mountain passes. The Everest base camp is actually only at 8,900 feet, but to get there via trekking you have to go as high as 18,000 feet. I have been to 14,000 skiing in the Andes and don’t think I want to try that at this age. It only takes one embolism (you choose pulmonary or cerebral) to end it all very abruptly and unexpectedly. If we ever do get to Kathmandu, I will be happy to wait for a clear day to see Everest on the distant horizon. I am now strictly a Himalayan Plains kinda guy.