In the evening, we gather in the warmth of the dining room. The doctor drops in with some bad news. The condition of the porter has taken a turn for the worse. He has both HAPE and HACE and needs to be evacuated by tomorrow. The catch is, he is not insured and helicopter evacuation costs $3500. The trekking agency has been contacted but they have refused to pay. Could we help? Even a hundred rupees would do.
We can scrape together four hundred. The Scots across from us come up with $80. The Austrians next to us don't look up from their spaghetti and french fries. They don't speak English. We try to explain. Finally they say they do understand. Could they donate? No, they say with a derisive wave of the hand. They go back to their meal, and later, order beer. Outside the dining hall, their young Sherpa quietly stuffs five hundred-rupee notes into the doctor's hands.
After a while, the Austrians find the dining room frosty in spite of the hearth. They retire to their rooms. One of the Scots produces a birthday cake. Candles are blown out, the cake is cut, and we all get a slice. A birthday party at 4500m.