HAWES ESCAPES

Batsa stands in the foyer watching his father pack. He can see himself in the gold-framed looking-glass on the wall beyond,  the crisp school uniform and shined shoes looking out of place on his sturdy frame.  As always he admires his father’s precise movements as he stows the complex array of mountaineering equipment into the various rucksacks and bivy bags––crampons, tri-cams, chocks and leaders.

Da Jangbu Sherpa looks up at his son, sees the boy’s expression of disquiet, or perhaps of longing. He smiles, the deep crow’s feet puckering around his eyes. “Don’t worry, Batsa,” he says. “This will make thirty-three ascents, and I grow more cautious every year. This expedition has no first-timers, either.”

“It’s not that, father. I just wish I could go with you.”

“Sixty-eight days is far too much school to miss,” he says, inspecting his chest harness. “Besides, you know I only do this so you won’t have to.”

What Pegman Saw

Note:

Nepal has eight of the 10 highest mountains in the world. Mountaineering, a form of extreme tourism, has grown to the point where the Sherpas – the ethnic group who mostly live in the unfertile mountains and became load carriers for foreign mountaineers – now run their own businesses, contracting much of the heavy work to other Nepali ethnic groups. Sherpas are said to earn between seven and 10 times the average Nepalese wage. Many are able to send their children to the best schools. They aspire to become doctors, engineers or airline pilots.

But development has come at a huge price. The air pollution and traffic jams of Kathmandu are among the worst in the world, the cities are chaotic, unemployment is massive, and the predominantly rural population remains mostly locked in subsistence farming. In addition, Nepal is on the frontline of climate change and is highly vulnerable to flash floods, landslides and droughts. As elsewhere in the Himalayas, the most vulnerable people are affected the most.

The title, थोरै मान्छेले मात्र तिम्रो दुःख बुझ्छन्, बाँकी सबैले त कहानी सुन्न मनपराउछन्  is a Nepali proverb that says “People pretend to care about your troubles, but they really just like listening to a story.” 

The Provincial Chief Inspector got out of the jeep. Zhou thought the military boots and trousers an odd outfit for a Provincial Chief Inspector, but the ways of these higher officials were nothing if not mysterious. Another man got out as well, a man not quite Chinese and not quite European, what Zhou’s mother would have called a mongrel. He wore a blue suit with thin-soled office shoes.

They walked over to Zhou, a woman with a clipboard trailing behind. The suited man pulled himself erect and said in an officious tone, “Chief Inspector, may I present Third Foreman Zhou Xiang, in charge of this sector.”

Zhou was stunned. He thought he might have seen the mongrel man before, perhaps at one of the interminable all-hands meetings held once a quarter, but the fact the man knew his name and position was deeply disquieting, especially with the Chief Inspector’s unannounced visit.

What Pegman Saw: China

Dale’s primary rule:  plan your dive and dive your plan.  For years he’d done exactly that, and not just in diving. The long years made of seemingly identical days of hurried breakfast and work and weekends. The kids moved from grade school to middle school to college and finally off into their own lives.

Through it all, he’d managed to dive nearly every weekend, hard to do in the midwest but just possible if you were inventive. Lakes and rivers in the summer, caves and ice-dives in winter months. Dale liked ice-diving best despite the discomfort of 32-degree water. The cold blue light of the frozen roof above the black fingers of submerged trees was strangely haunting.

At seventy, Dale cashed out. He bought a Carver C-37 and a slip in St. Thomas. He cruises the islands and cays, dropping anchor if he chooses. No plan wanted, no plan needed.

 

What Pegman Saw

Paavo hurried, knowing his uncle Hillar was a stickler for punctuality.

Uncle Hillar stood beneath the flag, the thermos tucked beneath his arm as always.  And as always, he tapped his watch with his finger.

“Oh, come on,” said Paavo. “I bet it’s not even two minutes.”

Hillar shook his head.  “On time is on time, and anything after is late.”

He unscrewed the cap and poured two cups of the bitter coffee they both loved. “So, what is new on your internets?”

Paavo smiled, despite the grimness of his news. “It looks like Putin is going to do it. If he invades, Kaljulaid will have to invoke Article V. After that…” He trailed off.

“Let me tell you something, nephew. When I was a boy, Stalin tried to crush us. Then Hitler, then Stalin again. But in 1991 we finally won our freedom.” Hillar sipped his coffee. “Estonians don’t crush so easily.”

 

What Pegman Saw: Narva, Estonia

 

A note on this story:

When Estonia regained its independence after the Soviet collapse in 1991, Narva became a border town. Street signs are in Estonian script and official business is carried out in Estonian. Anyone who becomes a citizen must speak the language. But most of Narva’s population is ethnically Russian, and many are either Russian citizens or stateless residents of Estonia with gray “alien passports.”

Western security officials fear this makes Narva a prime target for Vladimir Putin, who might mimic Russia’s invasion and annexation of Crimea in 2014,

But doing this in Estonia would have major consequences: Estonia is a member of NATO. Article V of NATO’s Washington Treaty requires the 29 member countries, including and especially the United States, to come to the defense of other member states.

Anyone paying attention to current events has grave reason to be concerned. World War I began over much less.