All Local, All The Time
While the reader may view this book as a spiritually driven physical journey that moves from the isolation of a small remote Tibetan village to the soaring views of the top of the world at Everest, Judith Glyde's first assertion is that she seeks to speak to a wide audience including "the adventurer, the musician, the travel enthusiast, the lover of mountains and all those in search of a challenge."
Upon arriving in Kathmandu, the author has a "What the hell was I thinking?" moment. She realizes she is truly alone. She accepts she has a tendency to charge ahead. Now her perhaps ill-conceived notion to commune with Bach and her cello in complete isolation, in a hostile environment with people who don't speak her language, presents unknowns that are daunting
Yet it took much to put together this venture. The author writes, "[T]he who, what, when, why and how. These questions, however, became the components for a musical and physical journey, not for writing a good news story...the intention [was] ... to come to these treasured and revered works from a new set of circumstances -- isolated and free from distraction...ideas I want to explore: what this land of the Sherpas and their way of living will bring to any new characterizations of these suites; what altitude may have in its effect, if any, on the sound I will produce...and importantly, can I musically (and physically) thrive in isolation."
To address all the unknowns and steps in this journey, Glyde overlays and explores the Buddhist perspective of discipline and focus. Indeed, she comes to find that Buddhism is not peripheral but the very center of community and life in rural Tibet.
Her overall goal is to bring whatever new connections and discoveries she makes back to share with her students.
The author's descriptions of the sights, sounds and colors of Kathmandu are vivid, enlivening memories for one who has visited there. Shades of Indian Jones movies color the experience.
Her journey begins with a flight from Kathmandu to Lukla, then a trek down a mountain, over the river Dudh Kosi, the main waterway that descends from Everest, finishing with a climb to Sengma, the village in which she will spend three months. A sherpa is engaged to carry her cello.
Upon arrival, as she begins to weave herself into the fabric of life in the village, she must meet new ways of eating and also address hygiene. She learns how to gather water for bathing and brushing her teeth, lighting her own fire if she wants more than cold water.
Her desire to explore is also tempered by the knowledge that tigers roam the area.
For her work on the Bach suites, she devises a schedule of study and work. She tries to teach English to the little daughters of her host, and she learns local traditions.
Six days are taken to trek to Everest. Climbing through rocky terrain, over rivers and on high unstable bridges, the author ponders the mystery of the mountains and the trek required to get there. Upon reaching the viewpoint at Namche, she describes the Everest Massif and surrounding mountains as the Da Vinci of Landscapes. Yet, tourism is degrading the experience with a luxury hotel and airport nearby so that what the author describes as "lazy foreigners" can access the view without the effort or experience of the journey there.
After two months, with the onset of winter, she moves to the village of Nagarkot, which is within 30 kilometers of Kathmandu. Her hotel offers luxuries not just of indoor plumbing, but also a restaurant and bar, among other things. After subsisting on a vegetarian diet where eggs were a special luxury, Glyde wonders about losing the joy she came to experience in the simple subsistence life at Sengma.
Yet the goal of getting to the last page of the Bach suites is not forgotten. Working each day on the sixth and final suite, which is "joyous and [in] the exuberant key of D Major" is a reflection of her mood as she begins to readjust to civilization.
Playing through all the suites, now memorized, Glyde is focused on the internal beauty of each one. She gains an audience in the hotel garden whose reaction was of 'fascination and enthusiasm.'
She writes, "The Bach initiative, the thread that has wound through my journey, is completed."
This tale is unexpectedly engaging, descriptive and cathartic, not just another transformative journey account but a warm, honest and engaging story of people, culture, landscape and music. The Tibetan recipes shared from her Sengma village family are a bonus that invites the reader into a shared experience. Not to be missed.
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