In July 2023, mountaineer Tanzan “Lama” Sherpa led a Norwegian climber to the summits of the world’s 14 highest peaks in record time. In a sport that requires sheer determination and high levels of conviction, “Lama” did everything his client did and more. But that client got most of the money, fame, and attention.

For Nepal’s Sherpas, who typically don’t receive the kind of lucrative endorsement deals enjoyed by foreign athletes, a career as a Himalayan guide offers a path out of grinding poverty, but also one littered with avalanches and icefalls that can lead to premature death.

Lama told the New York Times that he still couldn’t rest after serving as a guide for the Norwegians. Life in Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, is expensive. He is illiterate but wants his sons to get the best education, which costs a lot of money.

So, just three months after climbing 14 peaks, Lama returned to continue his work as a Sherpa – his name, his race, his profession and, ultimately, his destiny. Another foreigner seeking a new record hired him as a guide. This time it was Gina Marie Rucidiello, who was trying to become the first American woman to climb the world’s highest peak. Another American woman also climbed solo, guided by a Sherpa, in pursuit of the same record.

But on October 7, an avalanche occurred on Mount Shishapangma in Tibet. Both pairs of climbers died.

The death of “Lama” is the latest in a series of tragedies for his brothers. In 2021, the eldest of four brothers who made their living climbing, Norbu Sherpa, took his own life after a relationship tragedy. Last May, the second oldest, Phurba Sherpa, died during a rescue mission on Mount Everest.

The last brother, Pasdawa Sherpa, learned of “Lama’s” death after returning from climbing the world’s seventh and eighth highest peaks.

Pasdawa, who traveled three days by foot, bus and plane to reach the Lama’s apartment in Kathmandu, knelt before his brother’s altar, where eight candles flickered. Marigolds and ritual cloths surrounded a portrait of the Lama, who was photographed grinning in an orange snowsuit.

Pasdawa closed his eyes and prayed for his dead brothers. He said he prayed for himself, too. He had to hold on in the only life he had ever known.

“I will continue climbing,” Pasdawa said. “I have no other choice.”

Here’s what the Sherpas do: carry heavy bags and oxygen bottles for foreign clients. Cook meals and set up tents. Navigate snowstorms and clear piles of trash. Rise before dawn and spend hours fixing metal stakes in the snow and building ropes to protect foreign climbers. Slog through icefalls, bus-sized slabs of ice that are Sherpa graveyards. (The Sherpas who climb the mountain are usually men; women don’t usually serve as guides.)

Compared to their clients, Sherpas can spend far longer in the so-called “death zone” (above 8,000 meters above sea level), where without supplemental oxygen, human cognition becomes dulled and altitude sickness can cause death in a short period of time.

The village of Walung in northeastern Nepal is where Lama and his brothers grew up and has trained about 100 expedition guides over the past few decades.

Locals said that of the 100, 15 died on the job.

The high death rate highlights the inequality of this life-and-death sport. About a third of the 335 people who have died on Everest were Sherpas. Yet the wages their expertise brings, while high by local standards, are a fraction of what most clients pay for their own expeditions.

“We help foreigners,” said Maka Rulakpa, an experienced guide from Wallonia and a close friend of Lama. “It’s dangerous, but we do it anyway.”

Nepal’s mountaineering industry is a key source of income for the impoverished country, catering to those willing to pay more than $100,000 for the luxury of climbing a Himalayan peak. They are almost all foreigners. The crowd has swelled in recent years, creating congestion at high-altitude bottlenecks and icefalls, increasing the potential for accidents. Some expedition leaders also believe climate change is causing unpredictable weather patterns, increasing the risk of deadly avalanches.

During last year’s spring climbing season on Everest, the Nepali government issued permits to 478 foreigners, the most ever, and 18 people, including six Sherpas, died on the mountain, also the most ever.

The rise in expeditions brought with it inexperienced climbers more likely to need rescue at high altitudes, as well as climbers seeking records and pushing themselves and their teams to the limit. Every foreign trekker, beginner or expert, relied on at least one Sherpa and often several.

In addition to the economic imbalance, the Sherpas’ status in the history of mountaineering is often forgotten. In 1953, when Edmund Hillary climbed Mount Everest for the first time, he was always ranked first in the eyes of the world, and Tenzing Norgay, who climbed with him, was always ranked second. The Tenzing-Hillary Airport near the Everest Base Camp is the only exception.

In the spring of 2023, Norwegian professional climber Christian Harila began his attempt to break the record for the fastest ascent of the world’s 14 highest peaks. The world record at the time was six months and six days. The previous record was eight years.

To succeed in her sponsored 92-day Himalayan sprint expedition, under the slogan “She Moves Mountains,” Harila needed the guidance of Sherpas, especially “Lamas.”

The first mountain was Shishapangma, where Lama died six months later. Trouble arose early, first with paperwork. China denied visas to six of the 11 Sherpas on her team. Lama dragged, hammered, pulled, and carried, taking on the work of the six who were missing. He was fast, efficient, and made no unnecessary movements in the thin air, Harila said.

“Lama did all the work,” she said. “Without Lama, no one could reach the summit.”

Before his death, Lama had climbed 37 of the world’s highest mountains. Whenever he had time, he would return to his home in Walung, an isolated village in northeastern Nepal, located in a high-altitude valley with barley and rice fields below. Hairy yaks graze in the fields, hunched over to protect against the cold. Lama and his brothers grew up herding livestock. They used old socks tied into knots to play football.

Lama had three brothers who died in infancy, a common occurrence in the Himalayan foothills. As the second youngest child, Lama was sent to the local monastery in the hope that it would provide an extra mouth to feed. There he received the name Lama, the title for Tibetan Buddhist monks.

At the time, most Sherpas who became professional climbers came from another region in northeastern Nepal. But in the early 2000s, Mingma Sherpa from Wallung became the first South Asian to climb all 14 of the world’s highest peaks. (Most Sherpas have the last name Sherpa, but that doesn’t mean they’re related.)

Mingma and his three brothers eventually founded Seven Summits, which now organizes about a third of all Everest expeditions. Mingma hired most of his guides from Wallonia.

When the mountaineering boom began in the village, Lama’s eldest brother was too old. But the other four brothers joined Seven Peaks Expeditions and turned the company into a real Walloon brotherhood. Lama, who had given up his monastic life and got married, joined the mountaineering industry about ten years ago. He started out as a porter and rope fixer, and later became a guide.

“We eat the same food, drink the same tea, but this brother, they are extra strong,” said Lakpa, a friend of ‘Lama’ in Walloon. “‘Lama’ is the strongest.”

In 2019, Lama and his three brothers climbed the world’s third-highest peak, Kangchenjunga, setting a Guinness World Record. In a photo taken at the summit, the brothers are all smiling, all wearing bright climbing clothes, and their joy is in the air.

Breaking records like “Lama” has can mean a big jump in income. An average summit brings in less than $4,000; an 8,000-meter mountain can fetch $7,500. For his 14 summits, “Lama” earns about $9,700 per summit, one of the highest salaries a Sherpa can earn. Still, it’s far less than what top foreign climbers can raise through endorsements, and Sherpas have a more dangerous job.

While Walloon natives rise to the top ranks of mountaineering, the total number of Sherpas working in the profession is declining. Some of the most successful are leaving the country, along with large numbers of Nepalis.Countries plagued by corruption and poverty, emigrated overseas.Few guides want their children to inherit their father’s business..

Families of the slain guides are now entitled to an insurance payout of about $11,250, up from the several hundred dollars previously offered. But Lama’s widow, Pema Yangi Sherpa, still worries it may not be enough to keep her sons away from the kind of work that killed their father and uncle.

“I want my sons to leave Nepal and study in a country where they can have a better future,” she said. “I don’t like mountains.”

At first it was white snow, blue ice, and black rock. Instantly, gravity, fueled by wind and the slightest disturbance, transformed the frozen mass into a deadly force. The avalanche thundered, then came in waves.

Shishapangma in Tibet is considered the easiest of the 14 peaks. Despite this, nearly one in ten climbers dies trying to climb it. On October 7, “Lama” was guiding Razuzilo, one of two Americans attempting the climb. Ahead of them was Anna Gutu and her guide Mingma Sherpa. Due to uncertainty about future weather conditions, the other climbers retreated. The two Americans and two Sherpas insisted on staying. With only this mountain left, the two women had a chance to break the American record for summiting all 14 peaks.

All four were killed in the avalanche.

Other climbers said the competition between the two Americans was intense, which may have driven them to challenge dangerous heights.

At the start of the 2024 climbing season, Seven Peaks Expeditions asked Lama’s youngest brother, Pasdawa, to serve as a guide on the mountain where Lama died.

Pasdawa said he could earn about $3,000 from a Shishapangma trip. For Walloons, especially those like him who have just left school a few years ago, there are only two jobs: farming and climbing.

But Pasdawa had another reason to go to Shishapangma: to search for the body of his brother, one of the world’s greatest climbers.

According to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition followed by the Sherpas, the dead should be cremated at home. Only then, after being purified by the flames, can their souls be reincarnated.

In mid-May, a group led by a Nepalese climberteamThe remains of Gutu and Mingma were foundTheir remains were transferred from Tibet to Kathmandu.

But as May drew to a close, Pasdawa was still waiting for a visa to Tibet. The spring climbing season was winding down. His brother and Rusidillo were still somewhere on the mountain, frozen in the snow and orange winter suits.

“I’m not sure if we can find his body,” Pasdawa said. “But I’ll try.”