Since it was clear that I didn't understand, another man translated for me . "Tomorrow you will take your friend to Ghorka. This could take six to eight days. Then you will take him to the hospital in Kathmandu. Do you have any chewing gum?"

Was this the final indication that I should end my trek here and return to Kathmandu? I knew that Osman did not really have to go all the way to Kathmandu to have a doctor look at his knee and I questioned - to what degree was my fate now completely linked to Osman's? Whoaaaa! Osman was hurt and required help but certainly I was not the only one who could or would offer such help? At what point did the responsibility fall to his family, friends and society?

I decided to help financially to have him taken to a doctor in Ghorka but was hesitant to succumb to the seemingly deep pocket mentality of my caring for Osman until he made a full recovery. From Ghorka word would be sent to his village to elicit help and support. After giving Osman an extra two weeks pay and enough rupees to cover a number of doctor's visits, I decide to continue with my trek . I hired two men to carry Osman to Ghorka and designed a large load carrying basket called a doko in which he could sit facing backwards on a man's back with his leg splinted out in front of him. Namascars were said, Osman was hoisted into position and began what turned out to be an eight day journey down to the nearest village that had a doctor.