KEY POINTS:
A thunderous clashing of cymbals and the deep moan of the huge Tibetan horns reverberated around the surrounding peaks of the Himalayas just after 3am, summoning the monks of Tengboche Monastery to their devotions ... and finally destroying my attempts to convince myself that I did not need
to pee.
Yes, I'm aware that's probably more than you really want to know, but when it's five degrees below zero, and the toilet tent is about 50m away, in the middle of a yak paddock on the edge of a 500m high precipice, then issues like bladder control assume major importance.
Anyway, abandoning efforts to doze off, I put on my boots and polar fleece - I was already in socks and thermal underwear - and staggered outside.
It was, as you'd expect at 3870m - which is higher than Mt Cook - bitterly cold. The wastewater ditch running across our campsite had frozen over and the yellow canvas of the rows of tents glittered with ice.
But what really took my breath away was not the cold but the magnificent sight of some of the highest mountains in the world - Amadablan, Lhotse, Nuptse and Everest - soaring overhead.
We had caught tantalising glimpses of the mountains peering out from the clouds as we made the long climb up to Tengboche, but overnight the cloud had cleared away, leaving the peaks which looked down on our campsite sparkling in the moonlight. And behind them, looming darkly, was the vast bulk of the greatest of them all, Everest, the mountain the Sherpas and Tibetans call Chomo Lungma, the goddess mother of the earth.
Up at the monastery the cymbals had gone quiet but the blasts from the giant horns continued, the sound vibrating across the flat area where we were camped, then returning with a crash from the enclosing mountain walls.
As I cautiously made my way across the yak paddock to the toilet tent this harsh music was joined by the gentler melodious tinkling of bells as the resting yaks - well, most of them were probably dzopkos, yak-cow crosses - turned their heads to inspect this late-night intruder.
Soon, however, Tengboche resumed its customary tranquility and I managed a bit more sleep before dawn when I was inspired to get up in time to watch the rising sun first spotlight the highest peaks, then slowly spread down the mountainsides to the valley floor, gradually illuminating the monastery and the jumble of buildings and tents huddled around it.
Along with a dozen other hardy trekkers I had arrived in Tengboche the previous afternoon, in the course of a World Expeditions' trip through the Nepalese foothills of the mighty Himalayas, and had just had time to make camp and enjoy dinner before darkness fell.
The monastery here is probably the most important in the staunchly Buddhist Sherpa region - in fact one of the most significant Buddhist centres in all Nepal - and like the Sherpas themselves has strong links to Tibet.
Established on its present site in 1916, it has twice been badly damaged, in 1934 by an earthquake and in 1989 by fire, and both times rebuilt, most recently with the aid of Sir Edmund Hillary's Himalayan Trust.
The valley where it sits provides an incredibly spectacular setting but the reconstructed monastery, with its ornate red and gold entrance arch, white prayer hall and three-storey red gompa, is almost as photogenic.
Around it is a cluster of stone buildings providing huts for the 50 monks, a school, a compound for the abbot - recognised as the reincarnation of the monastery's founder Lama Gulu - the Sherpa Culture Centre, a library of 500 Tibetan Buddhist books, accommodation for visitors, and a shop and educational centre for tourists.
The otherwise desolate valley floor also sprouts a few hostels and food shops, a shelter for porters, the tents of visiting trekkers and - signs of the pressures created by the 30,000 tourists a year who now visit this isolated spot - piles of rubbish, crude drainage ditches and a small souvenir market.
Fortunately the abbot, an active environmentalist as well an important religious leader, is well aware of the minuses as well as the pluses of tourism and has already raised funds to provide shelter for porters, a reliable water supply and public toilets, and has plans for further facilities to help cope with the pressure.
I was exploring this intriguing scene when renewed blasts from the horns - they must be more than 4m long, so it's no wonder they produce a deep note - signalled something was going on around the back of the monastery.
It turned out that we had arrived in the middle of the annual Mani Rimdu Festival, a Tibetan ritual which seeks to dispel the harm in the world, and the horn blast was summoning the people who live in this beautiful but forbidding part of the world for the ritual blessing by the abbot which is the spiritual high point of the festival.
The abbot sat under an open shelter while a crowd of weather-beaten mountain folk in battered furs and thick felts queued for the chance to receive a drink, a pastry and a small red pill - that, according to a wizened old monk, is what the ceremony's name means, though I also heard other explanations - which had been blessed during the preceding stages of the festival.
It was an extraordinary sight to witness: magnificent snow-capped mountains looming overhead, light snow falling, monks in tall hats and golden robes periodically playing strange musical instruments, and tough Sherpas bowing before a gentle old man in gratitude for a blessing to help them get through the year ahead.
Before we reached Tengboche the festival had begun with a 10-day meditation ritual focused on a mandala drawn in coloured sands. And as we left, the monks were performing the closing ritual of sacred mask dances in which scary figures representing the demons of hatred, greed and ignorance are overcome through meditation on compassion and wisdom.
Walking down the steep path leading back to civilisation we could hear behind us the horns blaring, cymbals clashing and monks chanting in an ancient ritual intended to "allay all the harm in the world".
In those rarified surroundings, a place closer to the heavens than almost anywhere on the planet, it was possible to hope they would succeed.
Jim Eagles visited Tengboche as guest of Cathay Pacific and World
Expeditions.
GETTING THERE:
Cathay Pacific flies regularly to Delhi, via Hong Kong, and on to Kathmandu with Jet Airways. Travel agents have more details or visit
cathaypacific.com.
GETTING AROUND:
World Expeditions' most popular introduction to walking in the Everest region is the 15-day Sherpa Everest Trek. This includes time in Kathmandu as well as trekking to famous Buddhist monasteries, visiting some of Sir Edmund Hillary's Himalayan Trust projects in the Sherpa villages of Khunde and Khumjung, and magnificent views of some of the world's highest peaks. See worldexpeditions.co.nz or ring 0800 350 354.
