All posts by Christen

Nepal, Karma Documentary, and Tax Deductible Donations

With the end of the year quickly approaching, the rush of getting things done can seem overwhelming. Oftentimes, the last thing on our mind is the tax season still a few months away. However, a few minutes of your time now can benefit not only you when that tax time comes, but can help people in Nepal and the Karma Documentary film project now.

We have been sponsored by a non-profit organization, which means that any money you donate can be used towards your tax deductions in the spring. Whether it is you or your company that has the ability to make donations this holiday season, a letter can be sent to you that you can keep with your records for your taxes.

Some companies (for instance, Microsoft), will match your donations, so ask your employer if this is an option you can utilize, as well.

When hundreds of thousands of people in Nepal lost their homes and businesses, the world stepped in briefly for immediate help. Now, months later, they are still struggling to piece back their lives and their communities.

Help us to help them, and to help tell their stories.

We appreciate any help you can give, and we hope your holidays are filled with warmth, love, and good tidings.

Contributions of ANY amount are gratefully accepted.

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Christen ~ Nepal’s Needs Are Ongoing

What can you do to help?

Visit: The number one thing you can do to help Nepal is to travel to see it for yourself. So much of what is needed in Nepal revolves around influxes of tourism. Almost every way of life in Nepal is affected by the ups and downs of tourism. This is not in the budget for all people, so…

Donate: Even small donations help us work towards getting out their story with the film and to send money to the individuals and families we know it will benefit most. If you have checked your coffee fund, your rainy day fund, and even scoured the couch cushions and there is nothing to be found that you can spare…

Share: Help get this out in your networks, where it can reach other people that can help.

If we all do what we can when we can do it, we are all part of the movement to make our world a better place.

 

 

Contributions of ANY amount are gratefully accepted.

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© Luke Mislinski
© Luke Mislinski

Christen ~ Nepal, after the earthquakes, working towards short term needs and long term recovery.

To the Side-2

Have any of you been feeling like “Okay! We get it! You hiked some [censored] mountains! Can we move on now?!!” Because I have been feeling that way for a long while. I am so ready for the next adventure, you have no idea.

I am not accustomed to talking about what I am doing in public. Even after a year of doing this, I still do not like it. I like my privacy. A lot. I prefer that the only part of my personal life that surfaces in public is the photography I decide to share. There have been many times over the course of this last year that I have reminded myself of the people of Nepal for whom I am doing this. Most often, it is the children that run through my mind.

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

Photo from Ayusha Swar 1

I have lived with the people we met in Nepal in my heart and in my head for over a year now. With approximately 200 hours of footage and all of the photography captured, they are living breathing people in front of me every day. They make me smile and laugh and they pull me through when I get worn out from the long hours and no pay. Yes, okay, maybe we let our hearts get ahead of our finances when we agreed to do this film project. (There have been so many meals of cheap tacos or food made in the toaster this year.) Who knew it cost so much to do this?! Certainly not I. But, then, I did not even know I could not hike in jeans. (I know, I know, thank goodness I did not die.)

Nepal is one of the poorest nations in the world. The goal of the Karma Documentary was to move beyond empathy for their struggles and to support them in their desire to empower themselves, so they can work towards providing for their own communities with their own profits. I have never regretted starting on this project, not even when I was hanging upside down in a rabbit trap [chuckle], and where I grew up you finish what you start. We were just beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, when…

On April 25th, 2015, the earthquakes began, the worst natural disaster to hit Nepal in over 80 years. Thousands of people died, and hundreds of thousands of people are now homeless. It was centered around where we stayed for my time after the trek. Most of the homes and businesses of the people we came to know in that village (as well as throughout Kathmandu Valley and beyond), were destroyed. The aftershocks continued to hit them for days to come.

We had no idea what to do. My first thought was, “How can I get there?” (I know, but when I know people that are hurting, it is always my first thought.) It quickly sank in that my going there would do nothing to help and only take away from their resources. Besides, knowing the people we know there, they would turn around and be trying to take care of me, rather than the other way around. Instead, we just sat here feeling helpless, watched the death toll climb, and held our breaths while we waited for the people we know to check in as safe. 4,000 dead. Now over 5,000 dead. Believed to be over 6,000 dead. They finally settled on over 8,000 dead and more than 19,000 injured.

©Josh Saam
©Josh Saam

It never occurred to me during those first days that we would continue making the film. I just kept seeing the people I knew in my mind and picturing them now living on the streets outside of their collapsed homes, and feeling lost as to how to help them. It was not until it was made very clear to us from many different directions that, not only did we need to finish the film, but that now it was even more important to their long term recovery that we finish it. It was not until this was pounded into my head repeatedly, that I could even bring myself to watch actual footage from the earthquake.

Just when I had finally gotten my head wrapped around the importance of continuing with the film, because they still want and need their stories to be told, May 12th, 2015 arrived. Another earthquake, almost as big as the first, hit Nepal. This time its center was where we had been trekking. There is no one that I met during my time in Nepal that has not been affected by the earthquakes.

We have started a campaign to raise 125K to accomplish both the completion of the film and immediate relief for people in the communities we know, because we know how to get the money directly into the hands of those communities. We do not have to wonder if we gave it to the right organization. (Seriously, how do companies working in disaster relief profit so greatly? Nevermind. That is a rant for another day. Focusing on what is important right now.)

Nepali Relief and Karma Documentary from Luke Mislinski on Vimeo.

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Contributions of ANY amount are gratefully accepted.

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***by mail:

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***When it comes to fighting the good fight, some people are on the front lines, and some people are the financial backers behind the scenes. Welcome to being backers of fighting the good fight.

Think of the amount you can give, and then give just a little more.

Christen ~ Himalayan Reality

Christen does her laundry outside, Himalayan style. © Luke Mislinski
Christen does her laundry outside, Himalayan style.
© Luke Mislinski

Hindu New Year to Buddha’s birthday. One month in Nepal.

Before we left, many people placed wagers on when the reality would sink in for me on this trip. When that moment of “What on God’s green earth am I doing going so far above God’s green earth?!” would hit me.

Many said the gravity would hit me as the plane came skidding to a halt on the tiny airstrip in Lukla. Others said it would be when I looked up at the mountains I was about to climb. Some said it would not be until I got to the 16,500 feet or when I got to the end of the trek. (Hey, thanks for the faith I would actually get that far.)

Reality never came.

Not starting the trek from Lukla on two days of traveling and an hour and a half of sleep. Not when I am doing laundry with cold creek water and a bar of soap in a bowl. Not when I am standing in a shack as I try to shower with a bucket. Not through the almost three weeks of the hike. Not when we got to the end. Not even when hanging upside down in the rabbit trap.

I have no idea why.

Now, I have flown back through China, waited through another cancelled flight delay, flown to Vancouver, gone through customs, and I am sitting in my seat on the little plane that will be taking me from Vancouver back to Seattle.

The announcements have come on. I am so exhausted that I am barely listening. Then, this little tidbit seeps into my consciousness…

“Our cruising altitude today will be 15,000 feet…”

My body freezes cold as my nerve ends flame hot. Ummm, I just hiked higher than our plane will be flying…

Well played, Reality. Well played.

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Christen ~ Continuing the Journey ~ Changunarayan

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

It has been explained to me that the large bells outside of the temples are to be rung to say, “I am here.” Ringing the bell to let God know you are present and are ready to share this moment.

I kind of love this idea, that God is not sitting around waiting for our every whim and whisper, but that we must make our presence known. The idea that God has other things to be doing and does not simply spend time waiting around for us to have a thought, but is available if you ring the bell. (There has been no implication that the bell ever goes unanswered.) Active participation in the relationship, rather than the passive assumption that a relationship with God is happening, just because you think about it. If you want a relationship, you must “show up”.

I am here.

A lot like any other relationship we have, or life itself. Life does not just happen. You must participate. You must take action. You must show up.

Life is about showing up.

I am here.

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

And, where is here…

At this moment, after trekking high into the Himalaya for a few weeks, and a few days in Kathmandu to catch our breath (which was impossible, really, because it is so polluted that it was harder for me to breath in Kathmandu than at 16,500 feet), I am sitting in the little village of Changunarayan. It sits up in the hills, overlooking Kathmandu Valley, and I can, once again, breathe.

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

A week to marinate in the zen-like calm of a village that has gone about their way of life for hundreds of years, before my country was even a concept.

I do not, yet, know what comes after this journey (just as I did not know this journey was coming), but in this moment, I ring the bell.

I am here.

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

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Donate to the film. Any and all contributions make a difference.

 

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Christen ~ Gratitude in Letters

Bit from the letters ~

“Crouch LOW when you pee outside… getting a little hoo-hoo chill is better than sleeping with pee on your pajamas!”

~

“It is not a portrait, in the classical sense. No airbrushing. No photoshopping. In Nepal, I tried to see people how they were. Just you, as the person you are. This is the thinly veiled smile you gave to the doubters before we left. After four demanding days into the trek, that little curl of the lips turned into a full-fleged mischievous grin. It was clear to me then that, while you hiked for the cause, this smile meant more….”
© Luke Mislinski

~

I often come back to a sign my brother saw in Berlin that said, “When was the last time you did something for the first time?”

This trek has been chockfull of firsts for me. My first pair of hiking boots. My first foray into talking openly on social media about what I am doing in my life. (As a generally private person [understatement], that is still weird for me.) My first time eating yak. My first time in Asia. And, yes, my first time heeding nature’s call in nature.

With unhappy digestive systems abounding, bathroom breaks were freely discussed in detail by necessity. (One man’s illness affects the group’s itinerary choices.)

So, as I returned to the lunch table from my first wilderness meditation, so to speak, Luke asked, “How was it?”

I gave him a look. “Um, awkward…? But, I guess I am getting the hang of it.”

Luke responded, “I meant the consistency…”

“Okay, well, still awkward, but, fine, I guess.”

And, it was. And, it remained fine. Whoever is in charge of these things must have decided that this was hard enough on me without laying on that extra stress of getting travelers’ sickness on top of it. One of many things for which I am grateful.

~

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

~

Gratitude…

When I asked for letters that I could read on the mountains, a beautiful thing happened. Letters arrived.

Letters from strangers. Letters from family. Letters from people I get to love in person in my life, and letters from people I no longer get to see but love still. Letters from people I know well, and letters from people I wish I knew better.

The letters were thoughtful and personal and inspiring. They took all forms. Some shared personal struggles. Some shared personal triumphs. Some shared memories we had made together. Some shared hopes for their own future adventures, slices of wisdom, moments of humor, or kind admiration for what we are doing.

I have been sharing bits of the letters with these entries because they mean so much to me. I wish I could post all of them here, but that would violate the trust I feel I was given in receiving them, though I have not been instructed once that this is so. I have left off all of the names because some of the letters shared such intimate vulnerabilities that I preferred to leave them well protected in the mountains where they were first read.

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

One told the story of a recent assault on a dark walk home alone. Others were stories of the difficulties of daily life in the attempts to be a good grownup and stories of the hardships of parenthood and all that entails. Stories of the sacrifices made for others and how those sacrifices can sometimes make you feel like you are drowning. Things that cannot be admitted anywhere but a letter sent to mountains far away where the words will not echo back. Stories of finally finding love, stories of still seeking love, and stories of love attempting to be maintained.

There were quotes, poetry, and lyrics to songs. One story-laden song in particular made me smile and sing it out loud when I read it. (“That’s the sound of sunshine, coming down…”) Love you, Mama.

Some fantastic awkward family photos that made me grin. (I am going to go right ahead and credit my sister for this gift, so you know I am not grinning at your awkward family photos.)

©Christen Babb
©Christen Babb

One line from the letters has continued to play in my head. I imagine it will continue to do so for a very long time. It is this, “…and there was you…treating me like I was normal, like I was valuable.”

Like I was valuable…

That sums up, so well, the reasoning that has been behind so many of the choices I have made in my life. I want people to know they are valuable.

I want to say, Thank you, to all of you for your generosity of time put into words. It is such a rare gift to have people in your life that take that kind of time. Thank you for letting me take that gift with me on this journey.

[Mio caro bello vecchio uomo, HKM, CLF, MDB, and JLT, I want you to know that your letters are getting worn at the edges from the rereading. You own real estate in my heart.]

People are asking me if I am glad I went. The easy answer is, Yes.

Someday, when I look back on my life, I want my list of Things I Have Done to be much longer than the Things I Have Not.

The complexity of that Yes is that I know I am just trading in the literal mountains for the much more arduous figurative mountains of working towards doing justice to the stories we have so far, and the more we have yet to experience. That is a much longer climb we will be beginning.

At this moment, at the end of this Himalayan hike, that idea is overwhelming. Instead, I am focusing on how lucky and blessed I am, and I am just going to look forward to this next week we will spend in the little village above Kathmandu called Changunarayan.

https://karmadocumentary.com/invest-in-karma/

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Christen ~ Rabbit Trap

Bit from the letters ~

“Flamingo legs are an asset, right?”

“Good quote- “Get on your knees and thank God you are still on your feet.” I hope you are still on your feet.”

“Be you. Be safe. Be nothing else.”

~
Pasang 2

The last two days was going down to 11,000 feet and then up over a difficult pass that exceeded 15,000 feet and finally down to 9800 feet into Lukla, where we had begun the trek.

Prayer flag sky

I have learned that the ascents take physical strength, which is harder on me, but they make you pay attention. It makes it less likely you will fall on the inclines.

Descents are different. The descents are mental. You must keep your mind focused on the steps you are taking because you find your mind wandering much more easily on the declines, which makes you more vulnerable to slipping or tripping. For someone who is prone to daydreaming, this can be tough for me, but I will take the mental over the physical any day.

However, the real challenge for someone as clumsy as I am, it turns out, is when you get to the bottom and you stop paying attention altogether.

I made it through the trek without slipping and falling, without injury, and without getting sick, neither traveler’s sickness nor altitude. (Luke was kind enough to do all of those well enough for the both of us.) That alone was cause for celebration, and we did just that. The staff and the trekkers sat down to a celebratory dinner, followed by some impromptu dancing.

Being in Lukla again meant a return to internet access, as well, which let me call people to let them know I was not dead, (a bigger worry for some people than one might have guessed.).

I finished these calls in the pitch black of night (for the almost 13 hour time difference). With little to no electricity, pitch black has a different meaning. Your eyes do not adjust and all you can see is what is lit by the pinhole of light from your headlamp in front of your feet.

After taking this pinhole of light to the outhouse, I made my way back to my room by way of a narrow flight of uneven, and sometimes loose, stone stairs. In my attempt to not stumble on them, I did not notice that the left side of the stairs was lined with twirling barbed wire. (For what purpose, I still do not know.)

Forward and downward motion does not combine well with catching your left leg in barbed wire in the dark. As the rest of me went forward, my left leg pulled up behind me, which effectively hung me upside-down by my left ankle. As I did not know yet that it was barbed wire, my first coherent thought was something roughly akin to, “Did I seriously just get caught in a rabbit trap?!” I started laughing because, well, what else can one do when one is hung upside-down in the middle of the night.

Being rather lanky, it makes my ankle a long ways away, as I tried to do upside down sit-ups in an attempt to free myself from whatever briar patch in which I had found myself. Every time I tried to reach for it, it pulled tighter around my ankle.

Realizing I would not be getting myself out of this, I attempted yelling for help, to no avail. As I sat staring at the sky, hanging off the side of a stone wall, dangling above a flight of stone stairs, I realized that I was stuck here until the sun would come up in a few hours and people would start waking.

I did the only thing that seemed logical. I went to sleep.

I cannot decide if it is fortunate or unfortunate that there is no photographic evidence of this. It is likely much more hilarious in my mind, as I picture the first people who came around the corner that morning and came upon a girl, bundled in a black parka, hanging upside-down, sleeping like a bat.

I hope my rescuers found it as funny as I do, before they woke me up to help me down.

As a friend lovingly said before I left, “I can see why they want you to come on this trip. You are absurd.”

Thank God for getting that tetanus shot before I left.

Bits from the letters ~

“…what might you need, right now, at some unknown yet moment…perhaps 2am Himalayan time, under a starry and frozen sky…”

“Love was real.
‘Love is bigger than whatever you have experienced, so far’
Someone told me that once.
So, you go and look at the sky…”

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82513

Christen ~ While they summit

Bit from the letters ~

“Remember that the “summit” is merely the halfway point and that there is plenty more adventure to be had on the “return” portion of the trip.”

~

Before this trek, if you had asked me for a definition of a crampon, I would have guessed it had something to do with a menstrual cycle, and self-arrest may have been a citizen’s arrest you perform on yourself.

[Maybe there should be a mountaineering version of Balderdash for those of us not in the know.]

This, among many other reasons, pretty much disqualifies me from making the summit climb, as I would be roped to other climbers who would need me to respond like a functionally trained climber while crossing glaciers, avoiding crevasses, and repelling down mountain faces. (I think all of that is lingo-ly correct?)

As the rest of our team attempted the summit on Mera Peak, Luke and I descended roughly 5,000 feet to counter Luke’s altitude sickness, which meant I got to take my first hot shower in about ten days.

[By ‘hot shower’, I mean standing in a shed with an old, large, plastic paint bucket affixed with a plastic spigot and filled with boiling water sitting on a shelf above my head, with another paint bucket on the floor, filled with ice cold glacier creek water and a small pitcher, to temper the boiling water.]

Then, on to having some clean clothes, because we got to do our laundry.

[By ‘do our laundry’, I mean taking a large basin, filling it with cold creek water, scrubbing down our clothes with bar soap, and then hanging them out to dry.]

With the waterfalls in the background and the playlist Ange made me for this trip playing on Luke’s phone while we scrub, it is not a bad way to pass a relaxing, sunny afternoon in Khote, a mountain village at roughly 12,000 feet.

Khote - boy in waterfalls

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Christen ~ 16,500 feet

Bits from letters ~

“It took me a while to digest this news. My first thoughts were are you out of your mind.”

“this is not about you dying, because you are not going to and that is really going to [censored] up the rest of my letter if you think you are”

“Hiking the Himalayas…Are you nuts? :)”

“You make incredibly bad choices, but have incredibly good stories!
I know you will survive! It’s what you do!
GO – Bring joy to the world!”

~

If my grandma had been around for me to tell her about this trip, she would have casually said, “Give ’em hell, babe.” That thought made me smile at Khare Lodge at about 16,500 feet.

Screen Shot 2014-05-13 at 8.56.35 PM

[Side note: 16,500 feet is higher than anything in the continental U.S. and the trek up here is more difficult than that to Everest base camp. Yeah…these were not things I knew before coming up here. Also, had I read the suggested training information packets, I would, apparently, have been informed that trekkers should be in “marathon plus” shape, as in, you should be able to run a marathon and still have something left in the reserve tank. Since running a block about does me in, we can add that to the list of advice not taken…]

It is the morning after we arrived here. I am walking around to take it in and feeling good. Surprisingly good. Better than I deserve to feel good. And, as you can imagine, I am feeling a little bit tough at this point. Okay, maybe a little more than a little.

Then, I look over and see one of the Russians, shirtless, standing in the snow, casually using handfuls of it to scrub himself down.

Ahh, yes, I am still soft…

Reality Check, I tip my hat to you.

What can you do, but laugh?

Oh, and recruit the Russians and a Ukrainian to help build a human-sized snow demon with the new snow we got last night. Building snowmen is a great equalizer, because it wears everyone out. However, I wore gloves and a hat for some of it, and they did not. I am okay with being a little soft.

Photo credit: Yuriy Taranovych
Photo credit: Yuriy Taranovych

Bits from the letters ~

“It is your compassion that brought you on this journey, and it is your determination that will see you through to the end.

“Hold your chin high, we are all so proud of you, base camp or not.”

“Of course it’s hard. It’s supposed to be hard. If it were easy, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great. – A League of Their Own”

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82513

Christen ~ Onward and upward…and downward and upward again

The Everest avalanche did not belong to me. It belongs to the people in front of me. But, then, part of why I am here is because what happens to any of us is happening to all of us so, it is not mine, but it is ours…if that makes any sense.

No matter. We still have mountains to climb, and death happens, more often in some places than others, and we cannot help from here, unless the story we are trying to tell here, somehow, in some way, helps someone in the future. So, we focus on that and the next steps in front of us and we keep working our way up.

But, it is not just up. It is up and down and up again. Then, repeat. Sometimes, the ups and downs end with you higher than you started. Sometimes, they end with you lower. Sometimes, you feel like you did not get anywhere at all.

Nepali Flats - descending to go higher

Nepali Flats - inclines

As it is with trying to get through anything, I suppose. Whether it is grieving a loss, or trying to create something that did not exist before, or raising people, or hiking the Himalayas, or just trying to get through the day-to-day, in whatever way that looks right now.

Sometimes, you spend a day hiking here, where you go up and down thousands of feet, but you do not gain any elevation. They call these the Nepali flats.

In anything we are trying to do, it takes a lot of Nepali flats days to get to where we are going.

Nepali Flats - View 1

Bits from letters ~

“recently i ran the nyc half marathon with friends all in the name of cancer. i didn’t do all that much to prep and train. not nearly as much as most running sites encouraged me to do. i drank a lot and still had the occasional cigarette (bad). but i did it–i ran 13.1 miles, which is probably 10 miles more than i’ve ever run in my entire life. it’s a different story, but similar in many regards. the feeling i had upon completion was totally overwhelming and fantastic. i did something i didn’t think i could do. and i did it all for a really good cause. and more importantly, now i know what i can do when pushed to the limits. it’s made me want more challenges and adventures.”

“Thought of you during my spin class…When I thought I couldn’t go any longer I told myself, ‘Christen is hiking the Himalayas, I can do THIS.'”

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Luke Mislinski Photography

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Dubois, WY
82513