My grandfather’s footsteps

Growing up in the village of Tochigi where only 17% of Japanese have a passport, little did I dream one day of travelling internationally. But here I am on a university field trip in Nepal, visiting my 37^th country. 

Nepal is special because this is where my quiet, soft-spoken and adventurous grandfather Takeo Yamanoi came in the 1950s to climb peaks. He was a mountaineer, and he loved Nepal and the Himalaya.

My grandfather started climbing when he was in his high school mountaineering club. He was caught in an avalanche in 1950 which killed four of his friends and the team leader. He was miraculously saved when rescuers saw his fingers sticking out of the snow.

Nonetheless, rather than giving in fear, he channelled this tragic experience into an even deeper appreciation for mountains. He would say in his characteristic understated way: “Mountaineering is a gentleman’s sport. There are no judges or spectators.” 

His philosophy was that climbing was not all about triumph or setting new records, but a quiet, personal commune with nature. His passion for mountains ultimately took him far away from a Japan that was just recovering from war.

And it was the Himalaya that drew him, and where he found his calling. In 1958, he tried to climb Himalchuli, the world’s 18th highest mountain at just under 8,000m. He could not reach the summit, but this only fueled his passion for climbing. In 1964, he climbed the technically difficult Baruntse (7,162m). I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment he felt as he gazed out at hundreds of peaks all around, including Makalu and Mt Everest. 

In his later years, my grandfather found a new way to stay connected with Nepal, a country he was obsessed with and which he repeatedly visited. Out of a desire to give back to the land and the people that welcomed him with open arms, he devoted himself to social work. Among other things, he helped build a public toilet in Patan in 1999.

The local Paropakar charity gifted him a painting of Lord Buddha visiting his birthplace after enlightenment as a token of appreciation. As a boy, I remember being captivated by this framed art work that my grandfather brought back from Nepal. 

He did not talk much with his family about his achievements, and in fact the only information we have about his climbing and other work in Nepal is limited to a few photographs and what his friends wrote about him. As I learnt more about him through pictures and books, my desire to trace his footsteps to Nepal only grew. 

I was in Kathmandu this month on a university fieldtrip, and used the opportunity to track down the public facility he built. In one of the few pictures he left there was a clue to where it was: Ward 6 of the Lalitpur Sub-Metropolitan City. I asked around, but none of the Nepalis I met could find me any leads.

Eventually, I found my way to Ward 6 and tracked down its chair, Rupendra Raj Shakya. At the  Ward office, Shakya welcomed me with a red khata (pictured), and identified the person in the middle of my grandfather’s photograph as his predecessor who had died in an accident.

“Now it is a parking space, but there used to be a garden in front of the office with a toilet built by Japanese people,” remembered. “It was located where the small blue car is parked now, next to the well.”

My heart sank because I realised that the structure my grandfather built had been replaced by a concrete building. Yet, I felt a sense of appreciation and fulfilment to be retracing my grandfather’s footsteps 40 years later. His legacy endured in the hearts of the people whom he touched and his spirit is passed down to me.

As our plane took off from Kathmandu, the mountains came into view. My mind took me back to that quiet man in his climbing boots and ropes, gazing up at the impossibly high peaks he climbed. 

Every time I recall his gentle heart and humility, his spirit of adventure whispers to me, reassuring me that no matter where I go, he is by my side. His love remains with me, guiding my steps, just like the climbing ropes guided him up the Himalayan mountains many decades ago.