Self-preservation is instinct to us, but it is a luxury when your career involves putting the lives of others before your own. On a healthcare expedition to rural villages around the Himalayas, a group of 18 medical students and doctors including me, relied on just 5 Sherpas to navigate us on 6-8 hour treks in treacherous conditions. We aimed to undertake a detailed geographical survey, deliver medical and sanitation supplies, and carry out healthcare interventions for local communities after the devastating Nepal earthquake of 2015. In order to do this, we needed to take with us food supplies, toilet tents, huge water containers and various other essential items. Thankfully we had acquired the services of a few Sherpas to guide us, without whom our journey may have been much like the plot of the 2015 movie ‘Everest’, and some of us would not be here today. Nevertheless, we still struggled to carry even our personal belongings and tents, and a few people from our team succumbed to knee injuries, unable to continue. My favourite Sherpa called Dawon, towered over us at a mighty 5 feet tall (more from his position on the incline rather than his height) and was always bustling with energy, constantly motivating those behind him to keep on going. He intuitively worked out who was having the toughest time and walked with them for moral support. I was amazed at his endurance and stamina in running circles around us, sprinting from the front to the back of the group and back up, all while we were trudging onwards at our maximum pace! Climbing mountains while carrying loads heavier than your body weight and wearing flip-flops may sound foolish to Westerners, and indeed a UK climber attempting to climb Ben Nevis in the same footwear in 2019, was branded an idiot by the media. Nevertheless, Sherpas manage this feat for several hours daily in torrential monsoon rains, flicking the bloodsucking leeches off their skin like food crumbs. Conversely, they advised us to not rip leeches off our skin lest their teeth remain stuck inside inviting infection, but to either let them have their fill of blood and drop off or burn them off with fire. Our journey was perilous at best; we had to traverse rivers, climb steep mountains and even trek across regions where there had been landslides due to the earthquake and its aftershocks. Once, our route had to include a wooden plank draped precariously across two cliff-edges with a river flowing underneath (at a stretch, one might have called it a makeshift bridge, but that’s like calling a paper airplane a makeshift Boeing 737). This was one of several crossings which put our lives in danger, but reaching the other side safely, gives rise to an indescribable level of euphoria. I’m sure each one of us had a near-death experience during our trek, and many times the quick actions of the Sherpas closest to us helped us avoid those hazardous slips from becoming fatal. It was difficult at times to appreciate the natural splendour around us when our minds were clouded with contemplating our own mortality. Despite the terrain and threat of further landslides, the beauty of being so high up in the mountains yet surrounded by such greenery, gifted us with mental pictures we’ll never forget. Local Sherpa guides are uniquely qualified, having physically adapted to do this job from a young age. They are paid notoriously little by their climbing companies for the work they do, so we gave them a lot more at the end of our trip and donated our belongings. As medical students, we’re taught to empathise with and care for patients, but the level of compassion our Sherpas showed for us is something that can only be innate within them. They attentively looked after those with injuries, made a birthday cake from scratch for one of our teammates with very limited resources and went above and beyond to make us feel comfortable. We became great friends with our Sherpas and thankfully remain in contact through social media. Now you’ve reached the end of this story, I hope I’ve convinced you that Sherpas are the Heroes of the Himalayas.