Backpacks and Bra Straps (21 page)

Family Feud
26

“W
ow, I hardly recognize this place,” Ammon said the next morning as he and I searched for cheaper accommodations among the many hotels in the neighbourhood. By some organizational miracle, the streets were now somehow cleaner than many of the plates we’d been eating off. It was as if we’d woken up in a completely different town than the one we’d walked through briefly the night before. At some point in the night, little cleaning angels must’ve passed through Lhasa.

We proudly announced our find to Mom and Bree when we returned around lunchtime. We’d rented a six-bed dorm that was separated by a partial wall, and it even had a private shower and toilet. Not only that, but it cost fifteen cents a day less per person (20 ¥ instead of 25 ¥). Finally, because it was low season, the hostel said they wouldn’t give us roommates. Another bonus of travelling in a big group was that we often got a large room to ourselves, ‘cause the four of us came close to filling most dorm rooms anyway. Our find initiated an immediate pack up, a bit of a sad farewell to Daisaku, and a five-minute walk to our new digs.

“Oh, I’m getting so old,” Mom moaned, as we all eagerly dropped our bags on the concrete floor. As she collapsed back onto the flimsy single bed, she continued ruefully, “And it’s finally caught up with me.”

“Mom, it’s the altitude,” Ammon said, after hearing her go on for at least the fifth time about how much she’d aged in the last twenty-four hours. “I keep telling you that Lhasa is one of the highest cities in the world. We’re at three thousand, six hundred and fifty metres. That’s nearly twelve thousand feet.”

“Really? That
is
super high,” Mom said, recovering slightly from her zombie pose at what seemed to be news to her somehow, despite Ammon’s repeated explanations.

“Not to mention we were below sea level less than a week ago in Turpan. That’s a huge contrast. I feel wrecked, too,” he admitted, claiming one of the six beds.

“I feel great!” Bree said, slapping her chest like a gorilla. I wasn’t sure how gorillas and oxygen were related, but she certainly appeared to be in good health.

I sensed a new learning session coming. Ammon usually delivered them either on our way to a new place or once we’d arrived. Since he hadn’t been in our car for the ride here, we’d missed hearing any background info before we came, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t wasted any effort telling Bree anything along the way. I always liked to have his lessons beforehand so I could get excited about our next place, but between reading, writing, and researching our next place, Ammon hadn’t had much chance to pre-teach this time.

“Tibet is a plateau; most of it sits between four and five thousand metres (13,000–17,000 ft), so you can imagine how high these mountains are. That’s what’s kind of cool about it. Obviously, oxygen becomes an issue. Some people can actually die from altitude sickness, but mostly it just causes nausea and headaches.”

Mom responded by reaching for the thermometer on her red day-pack. “Well, if the altitude doesn’t kill me, the cold surely will. It is sunny out, but it’s only, let’s see now… Is it really twenty degrees Celsius (68°F)? That’s hard to believe.” Mom was practically allergic to cold. She hardly ever went swimming because the water was never warm enough for her, but this time, I had to agree; it really felt quite nippy.

“No way. How can that be? It sure doesn’t feel like twenty degrees.” I was already bundled up in nearly my entire wardrobe. “Isn’t that supposed to be warm?”

“Yeah,” Mom laughed, “that would be considered a really nice, warm day at home.”

“We can’t really be cold then, can we?”

“My feeties are freezing,” she told me, wiggling her toes as proof. Batting her brown eyes was enough to convince anyone. “See? They’re icy cold.”

“Let me feel,” Bree said, grabbing Mom’s bare foot in her strong hand, then dropping it back on the bed. “I don’t understand this.”

“I’m going to wear two pairs of socks with my boots today.” Mom hobbled over to dig for more socks in her backpack, which was leaning against the wall.

“It’s all relative to what you’re used to,” Ammon said. “Since we started this trip, we’ve basically been dealing with temperatures of thirty degrees Celsius and higher (86°F). We’ve just gotten so used to it that this feels cool. Just think how cold you’re going to feel hiking up to Everest Base Camp.”

“Yeah, but I think we’ll be fine as long as we’re moving, and we’ll be warm from the hiking. And at least I brought my Hot Chillys,” Mom said happily, pulling out her long thermal underwear.
Why is Hot Chillys such a Mom word?
I thought, grinning at her as she pulled big woollen socks onto her tiny feet.

“We have a few days here to acclimatize and sightsee. We’re probably going to end up staying for about a week in Lhasa, ‘cause we have to pick up our Nepal visas here.” Ammon unstrapped his money belt where he kept our cash and credit cards and his passport. “From what Savannah and I saw during our walk this morning, I think it’s going to be really cool.”

We decided to take the precaution of relaxing for the first few days while our bodies adjusted to the change in altitude. Our lungs struggled for air, and we were constantly out of breath whenever we’d go out looking for authentic street food or to eat in cheap local restaurants, so we spent the time doing laundry, reading books, playing cards, and just generally vegging out. Surprisingly, it was Ammon who suffered the most from what was, thankfully, a relatively mild case of altitude sickness.

“Poor baby. We were the sick ones in Kashgar, so now we can call it even,” I said as I tucked him up under his chin before going back into the other room to join the girls on the bed.

“Serves him right for calling us wimps,” Bree said, glaring back over her shoulder. “We always knew women were the stronger ones.”

“But we’re taking good care of him. Hopefully he’ll be better by his birthday so we can go to the Potala Palace,” Mom said.

“What are you dorks whispering about over there!” Ammon grunted from the next room, as if we were undermining his leadership and planning a coup. Sometimes, particularly on those rare occasions when he didn’t feel well, he talked as if he didn’t trust anyone or anything.

“We were just wondering how you were feeling in there?” Mom said, standing up to look at him with her hands on her hips.

“I’m not dying, and it’s not like I’m seriously hallucinating. Minor altitude sickness is still really weird though. It’s a bit like just coming out of surgery. I’m constantly yawning, and my heart is beating really fast,” he said. “My resting heart rate is up to ninety beats a minute from my usual sixty. I’ve got a headache in the front of my head, and there’s this sort of evil light-headedness at the base of my skull. And I can’t really move around because I’m too darned tired. I’m just sitting here wondering if I’m still sane and how long it’ll be before I pass out. I don’t know if it’ll get better or worse.” Regretting having let loose with his long string of complaints almost immediately, he redeemed himself by saying, “I’m fine though, really. It’s just not something I’d like to deal with all the time. Plus, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one with altitude sickness.” He popped his head around the corner, hobbled in, and sat at the end of Bree’s bed. Whenever the four of us were sitting together anywhere, one of us would just automatically start dealing the cards so we could play as we talked.

“You know, just because I say a bunch of random things all the time doesn’t mean I have altitude sickness like Ammon says,” Bree defended herself, but I thought she would be smart to run with that one; it was as good an excuse as any, and better than most. “Actually, I feel like I have altitude sickness in a happy way,” she relented.

The look Ammon gave her said he was not convinced, but he let it pass and then eyed me up and down. “And Savannah, you failed, for the first time ever, to out-eat the rest of us. Your bottomless appetite has mysteriously disappeared.”

“And you’ve been dragging behind for the first time since Russia, but not for the same reason. Or is it, Ammon?” I said.

“We’ve already established that
I
have altitude sickness,” Ammon said, avoiding my question.

“So what about Mom, then?” Bree asked.

“The only thing I’ve noticed about Mom is that she can’t deal the cards without somehow throwing them across the room,” I said as I stood to pick them up. “Then again, she’s always had that problem.”

“Well, I’ve noticed a few things about Mom,” he said, getting our attention. “But in light of my new-found adherence to the Buddhist principle of respecting my elders, I’ll keep this one a secret till I die.”

“What? C’mon. Don’t do that. That’s so not fair,” both Bree and I protested.

After ten minutes of us hounding him and him laughing, Mom said, “Oh you guys, leave him alone. He’s obviously just teasing you. Can’t you tell?”

“Or Mom really does have something she’s hiding, and only I know about it,” Ammon said, making us both turn our heads to check her reaction.

Cornered, a wry smile crept over her face and she rolled her eyes. “I’m not even going to play your silly games.”

“I have so many zits, I could shoot myself,” Bree growled from the bathroom.

“Oh great, I see you found the mirror,” Ammon said.

“Yeah, and I wish I hadn’t.” She stormed out and dropped flat onto her bed.

“It’s okay. Pimples aren’t a big deal. Don’t worry about it,” Mom said. “Lots of kids go through it, especially at eighteen. It’s just a phase.”

“Well, at least I’m out here where no one I know can see me. Just make sure nobody takes a picture of me today.”

Ammon raised an eyebrow. “That should be easy enough for us, but can you resist the urge to jump in front of the camera all the time?”

She lifted her head to glare at him, then jumped up in a frustrated fit of pacing. She must have known he had a point, because she didn’t argue. Her face was all red and speckled from where she’d been squeezing the zits, making the situation even worse.

“And I stained the sheets, too,” she announced.

“With your zits?” Ammon asked.

“No silly. With blood. My period, you know?” Storming back into the room and bending over to show the red stain on her beige pants, she said, “Just look at that!”

“You’re such a beast sometimes. Seriously, how can you let that happen?” He turned his head away in disgust.

“Bree, that’s gross. Ammon doesn’t need to see that.” Mom was busy walking around hanging t-shirts and underwear any place she could. “Plus, it’s completely normal. Everyone has had that happen to them at least once in their life.”

“I certainly have not!” he said.

“You know what I mean. And Bree, it’ll be fine. We’re doing laundry today anyway, so now’s a good time to wash your stuff. I’m nearly done with my bucket, so you can use it after if you want. There. That’s perfect.” Mom hung the last of her laundry from the ceiling fan. “We are very good at doing our laundry in cold water with smiles on our faces because,” she continued, admiring her household chores, done for another week, “we don’t have to vacuum, do dishes, cook, wash the cars, mow the lawn, clean the pool, or make our beds anymore.”