Another American Works as a Porter

Nate Menninger’s recent documentary film, and the resulting media coverage, has once again focused the global eye onto the strength and vulnerability of Nepal’s mountain porters. Menninger’s decision to adopt the naamlo and walk alongside a group of trekking porters through the Everest region grants him entry into a small (and, perhaps, dysfunctional) club of foreigners who have suffered under loads, hoping that a drop of the integrity and toughness of these incredible men might wear off upon them. This narrative device is tried and tested every decade or so, always displaying the porters as the real heroes, and the foreigners as awkward and somehow even worthy of pity. (See Rob Fraser’s iPorter, and Eric Hansen’s article in Outside Magazine.)

I, too, am a charter member of this strange congress of awkward white men. In the late nineties, I spent months traversing Nepal’s trekking areas and rural trade routes with my own greasy naamlo, trying to find acceptance and wisdom through sharing glasses of sweet tea with my porter hosts and politely ignoring their laughter at my pathetic load-carrying skills. Watching Mettinger struggle, I remembered my own sore neck and bruised heels. More poignantly, I saw the same grace afforded to Mettinger that my porter companions afforded to me so many years ago. Despite my desperate incompetence, they took me in and guided me. I was humored, looked after, and tolerated. This was no easy task, and my subsequent efforts to emulate and repay their generosity led me to adopt Nepal as my second home – arguably the best decision of my life.

What also struck me about Menninger’s film is how little has changed for porters in the two decades since I wore the same sweaty shoes. The camera – in the few moments when not focused on Menninger – holds on a group of men struggling to survive in an industry rigged against them. Even now, porters on Nepal’s main trekking routes consume most of their daily wages just to cover their expenses along the way. They are forced to sleep and eat separately from paying clients, are turned back alone when ill or injured, and their fortunes depend solely upon the generosity of the trekkers they serve.

The most important takeaway from this renewed focus on porters is not simply the challenges that they face, nor the intractable poverty that drives them into this incredibly difficult and dangerous work – it is the understated fascination that we, as outsiders, have for them. While Himalayan views are the main currency of selfies and travel websites, the steady self-assurance of the porters in spite of their burdens inspires feelings of gratitude and awe at the human condition that no mountain can inspire. Their labor has, essentially, made all Himalayan adventure possible, and vastly more rewarding.

This latter point is Nepal’s true currency – her people – and what no other country on the planet can rival. Nepal doesn’t need more foreigners to work as porters – the country needs to invest in the industry so that porters work as many foreigners can: with generous wages, high safety standards, and a national appreciation for all they do.

Neither Menninger nor I, would ever dream of spending a month working as a mountain guide in Chamonix without first undergoing years of rigorous training. I look forward to a day when the same rubric applies to porters in Nepal. Then, perhaps, another generation of well-meaning but clumsy foreigners will emerge to again tell the story of these incredible men. And, in doing so, they will tactfully choose to stay behind the camera – exactly where we belong.

The Porter: The Untold Story at Everest from Nate Menninger on Vimeo.

Featured Image source – https://news.virginia.edu/