Sogot on his grandfather’s lap

Sogot on his grandfather’s lap
Betrawati, 2002

This porch, tucked under the eaves of the front of the house, is a great place to rest from the sun (or rain), and just watch life flow by.

Friends, neighbors, and relatives walk by on the wide dirt path out front. 

In the mornings, sit here with a metal cup of buffalo-milk tea, blowing on it until it's cool enough to hazard a sip. Watch the children in their school uniforms, with their crisp white shirts and colorful ties, walking by from right to left, wool hats protecting them from the cool morning air. In the afternoon, see the same children come back the other way—now hatless in the afternoon's warmth—laughing and playing and chasing each other as they go.

On the far side of the path, eight steps made from large rocks lead down to a small path. You may hear the family's buffalo, or her newborn calf as you descend; reach out to give her a caring rub on her velvety forehead.

Forty meters on, beyond the rice field, feel the roar of the mighty Trishuli river as she crashes by. A deep, unending torrent of Himalayan snowmelt smashing and tripping and tumbling over boulders that survive only because they are larger than elephants. 

Half a kilometer beyond, the brilliant green forested hills of Tupche rise up steeply. They become grey, then greyer still, then suddenly black as the sun drops behind them and the valley falls into night.

All of this is taken in by Sogot, as he sits here
on the lap of his loving grandfather.

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