Showing posts with label Himalayas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Himalayas. Show all posts

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Roopkund Trek: The Adventure of a Lifetime

Note to reader: this is an extremely long blog post!

I have just returned from a trek to Roopkund, a lake situated at 15,500 ft in the Himalayas in the north western part of Uttarakhand, the state where we live. The hike was one of the most physically demanding things I've ever done, but at the same time hugely satisfying to achieve. In one week I experienced a full range of emotions, joy, sadness, sickness, fear, and ultimately exhilaration and exhaustion when we made it to the top.

However, if things had gone to plan I shouldn't have been on the trek at all. This summer we were planning to take our four-month old Charlie back to meet his family in the UK. But thanks to the incompetence of the British Passport Office and their absurd scheme to try and process all global British passport applications in Liverpool, our son's application got stuck in a logjam of half a million.

But where one door closes another opens. I was on the trek! We were a group of eight in total; me and Woodstock colleagues Ben, Abe and Andy with Andy's 13-year-old son Micah; Josh and Adi from Hyderabad, and Sam from Delhi.

Those of us coming from Mussoorie took the night train from Dehradun to Kathgodam, and there we met the other three guys at the station. As we gathered in the waiting room rain sheeted down, and it seemed like Monsoon was in full swing. Please, not a week of teeming rain, I silently prayed. We piled into a jeep to start the gruelling ten hour drive north via Almora and Gwaldam to the start of the trek in a village called Lohajung, situated at about 8,000 ft.

We arrived at about 7pm with most of us feeling rough after an extremely long and sick-inducing journey. We found a guest house to stay in, booked a porter with a horse to carry our tents and food the next day, and found a cafe for a rice and dal supper. The next morning we woke up to bright weather to begin the trek in earnest.

Day 1: Lohajung to Ali Bugyal via Didana

It was a fine day and the trek started with a descent to a river in the valley between Lohajung and Didana. The scenery was beautiful but the drop took us back down to about 6,000 ft, with our ultimate destination that day at 11,000 ft, meaning a 5,000 ft ascent in total for the day. After we crossed the river our backpacks started to feel really heavy. I was struggling, while Ben was feeling sick, and the steep path up started to slow us down. We all made Didana for lunch, but were in a sorry state. It was here I gratefully handed my pack over the to our donkeywalla for the rest of the trek (kudos to the other guys who hiked most of the entire trek with their packs - I am not that hardcore!).

At the river on the first day  BEN BOWLING
The bad news was after lunch the paths up through a forest felt pretty much vertical. During the afternoon we got separated, with Andy and Micah out in front, and the rest lagging behind. I was on my own for much of the way up, before catching up with Sam, who was struggling with a cramped knee. Continuing through the zigzagging paths in the forest was slow going. Every step took an enormous amount of energy, and we kept having to stop for breaks. We eventually made it to the meadow at the top at about 5pm, where we met Andy and Micah. Andy decided to go down and try and find the four stragglers, so we three of us waited in the meadow as our donkeywalla implored us to get a move on, as the fog swirled in around the meadow.

Finally at around about 6pm the other group made it up, but were in bad shape. We needed to get to our destination before the weather turned, which can change very quickly in the Himalayas. As Andy and Micah kept up with the donkeywalla, the rest of us lagged behind, as rain, hail and fog started to come in. We were in a 3km-long meadow with limited visibility, no maps and no shelter. This was not good! At one point I couldn't see anyone else from the group and was blindly stumbling on in what I thought was the right direction. Thankfully, the six of us managed to find each other through shouting out and locating each other by our voices. By now hail was lashing down, and one of our group Josh had no waterproofs as Andy had taken his bag. We were badly exposed but had to keep moving - if we stayed still we were in danger of getting hypothermia.

The meadow in which we got lost    BEN BOWLING


We kept running across the meadow in the hail yelling out for any signs of shelter, but to no avail. It was past 7pm but thankfully we had some visibility, and eventually we stumbled across a small stone animal shelter which would have to double up as our accommodation for the night. Just as those who were the most cold were getting in, and Ben and Sam were about to go to look for the campsite, a light was spotted in the distance. Andy had come back to find us, and told us the campsite was just five minutes away! Relieved and thankful, we followed him to the campsite where we collapsed exhausted and cold, but happy to be safe.

It was a scary way to end the first day and a reminder how the unpredictable weather in the mountains can be so dangerous. Happily all's well that ends well, although our first day's itinerary most groups do in two days, now we understood why!

Snow peaks peeking through: View from the first campsite    BEN BOWLING
Day 2: Ali Bugyal to Patar Nachuani

This was a much easier day, a fairly straightforward and gentle climb up to the next campsite along undulating paths above beautiful meadows. It was a bit foggy so views weren't great, but we made it in about three hours and set up camp at Patar Nachuani, away from the larger clusters of Indian groups who make this trek. There are several companies that are making a killing taking up large groups all through the season, and while it is good to see locals enjoying the mountains, the size of their parties, who aren't always the quietest of folk, meant we did our utmost to keep our distance on the campsites.

At this point I should mention the food we ate during the trek - it was amazing. Trek organiser Ben and Josh had spent hours dehydrating meals for us, which meant we only needed to add water to reconstitute them. We ate like kings: chicken mango curry, chili con carne, as well as delicious puddings such as cheesecake and chocolate brownies. Ben did all the cooking, for which we were all enormously grateful.

Ascending in the fog    BEN BOWLING
Group jump at Patar Nachuani campsite  BEN BOWLING

Day 3: Patar Nachuani to Bhagwabasa (base camp)

I woke up on Day 3 feeling pretty rough. I hadn't slept well and I gulped down some water in the tent. Unfortunately this came straight back up as I vomited. Maybe I was suffering from altitude sickness; we were now at about 12,000 ft.

We decided to get another donkeywalla to take everyone's heavy bags for the next climb. Unfortunately we couldn't find one, but then four chappal-clad local lads turned up and said they would take them, before hareing off up the mountain ahead of us. The first part of the day was a steep climb and again hard going. However, by the time we reached a mundir things levelled out, and this is where we hit the snowline. A fairly level walk took us to Bhagwabasa, a rocky area which is effectively Roopkund basecamp.

Bhagwabasa is what I imagine Everest Base Camp is like, it wasn't the most pleasant of places. It was hard rock, so we had to pitch our tents on the flattest rocks we could find, and although there were two (grim) toilet tents, there was a lot of human excrement around the camp. It was also significantly colder as we were now at 14,000 ft.

That evening we faced a dilemma; to get to Roopkund we would be climbing through a significant amount of snow, other groups going up were using crampons (devices to attach to your boot to help with grip), we didn't have any. After asking the other groups if we could borrow some, we received a resounding 'no' in response. So we decided to attempt the ascent in just our walking boots.

Although the mist was closing in it occasionally cleared and we started to have great views of the snow peaks which were tantalisingly close, including Trishul and Nanda Devi.

Bhagwabasa - the base camp from which we made the final ascent
Day 4: Roopkund ascent

We woke at 3.45am for the ascent attempt. We shivered around the stove and gulped down some coffee for breakfast, and after a ten minute wait for Adi we were ready to go at about 4.45am, just as it was getting light. We managed to get on the path ahead of the large India Hikes group which was good.

The first part of the path was pretty straightforward with some snow patches to cross. We raced ahead of the other group and were making good progress, until they started yelling at us that we were going the wrong way, and needed to head up the mountain more. We did this by transversing a rocky outcrop pretty much vertically.

After a while we were walking in snow the whole time. Fortunately it was not too icy, but for some of our group this was the first time they'd ever hiked in snow, so it was a new and challenging experience. For most of the time Andy and Ben went ahead and dug in footmarks which we all then followed in. After about two-and-a-half hours we knew we were getting close, but the snow climbs were getting almost vertical. It was hard going and every step took a monumental effort.

Finally, after about three hours, we got over the final brow of a hill to arrive above the lake, a stunning sight of crystal clear azure blue water set against the white of the snow. It looked beautiful and it was so satisfying to have made it. The lake contains human skeletons which it is believed are the remains of a group who were on a pilgrimage in the 9th century, and were killed by giant hailstones. A few of us slid down the ice to the lake to get a closer look, although no skeletons were visible. The others stayed at the top and revelled in the joy of having made it, while the fog cleared affording us glorious views all around. We felt truly blessed to have had such a good day for the ascent.

After a while it was time to make our way down, although Ben (being Ben!) decided to try and climb the sheer cliff behind the lake (he got some great photos, see below). On the way down some of us decided to slide down the snow on our butts, which certainly was a lot more fun than walking! We made it down by midday for lunch and then a quick pack up as we left for our next destination.

We then had another three hour hike back down the way we came to our next meadow campsite. Going down was certainly a lot easier than going up, and the good weather meant we had great views which had been obscured on the way up.

We arrived at Bedni Bugyal, our final camping spot, at about 4pm, and found a lovely secluded spot close to a river. In the evening over dinner we shared the elation of the success of the hike, and the teamwork of the group was praised by one and all.
The only way is up: ascending  BEN BOWLING

Roopkund: our first glimpse of the magical lake   BEN BOWLING
View looking down from peak opposite   BEN BOWLING
Roopkund - members of group like ants top left   BEN BOWLING
Sam and me after going down to the water's edge   BEN BOWLING
The way down: the way we came       ED BEAVAN
Back at basecamp after successful ascent    BEN BOWLING


Day 5: Rest day, Bedni Bugyal

Day 5 was a much-needed rest day. There was a mountain dhaba near our campsite where we were able to have egg paranthas for lunch, some guys played frisbee, while others read. We had great views from the snows at this campsite.

The mountain dhaba where we got paranthas  ED BEAVAN
The rest day campsite   ED BEAVAN

Day 6: Final descent to Wan

We were up at 5am for our final descent to Wan, which was a steep trek back down through the beautiful forest which had been our undoing on the way up. When we reached the river five of us stripped off for a wonderful plunge in the icy cold water. It had to be done! Then it was a short ascent, then back down to Wan, which we reached by about 11am.

Arriving at Wan, which had a few shops and a few workman building concrete blocks, was slightly underwhelming. Tired but happy, we drank some chai and tried to work out how we could get to Lohajung, where our driver was supposed to be meeting us. After managing to charge our phones, it turned out our original driver hadn't come, but we managed to book another driver to take us back to Kathgodam.

It was a this point we said goodbye to our hilarious porter Treelok Singh. At the beginning of the week, he had seemed like something of an irritating maverick, yelling at all and sundry to get a move on, by the end of the trek he had become a firm friend, and we were sorry to say goodbye. A potato farmer by trade, he does the portering as an extra income stream during the walking season. What was incredible was that he did the trek in bedroom slippers! As we left Andy gave him his walking boots, which hopefully he'll put to good use.

So it was back in the jeep for the second awful day-long drive to Kathgodam, where we found a hotel and scoffed delicious pizza, watching the Netherlands-Chile World Cup game (I discovered England hadn't even had the decency to stay in the competition in my absence!). The next morning those going to Delhi got the early train, while those returning to Mussoorie had a day to kill in Kathgodam. We went to Cafe Coffee Day and then enjoyed a morning shopping in Haldwani. Then it was the night train back to Dehradun, the taxi ride back up the hill and we were home!

Our porter Treelok Singh    ED BEAVAN
The slippers he walked in!   ED BEAVAN

Clearer views on the way down    BEN BOWLING
Conclusions

We did it! I must admit that every day on the way up I thought I would not be able to make it. The trek was a great way for me to see that with determination and the encouragement of others we are able to achieve more than we think possible and develop resilience. I made great friendships with new people and deepened relationships with others. I will hold the memories of the hike with me forever and am so glad God opened the door for this opportunity. As I am getting older, I am being affected by a genetic condition that runs in our family which means my ability to walk is deteriorating, so it was great to do it while I still can.

On a side note, I will not mind if I never eat gorpe again (trail mix) - we had tons of the stuff between us. I would also like to say a huge thank you to my wife Kirsten who allowed me to do the trek by looking after Charlie on her own during the trek, a task as arduous as summiting Roopkund!

Kirsten and Charlie   ED BEAVAN

Below are my awards for the members of the group:

Hero award: Andy for rescuing us in the meadow, frequently taking two packs, and for helping people up and down Roopkund
Teenager award: Micah, 13, who did amazingly
Unpunctuality award: Adi!
Constantly losing toothbrush award: Ed
Chef extraordinaire and trek organiser award: Ben
Making things with his hands, including home-made tent, award: Josh
Self filming while sliding down mountain award, sponsored by Go Pro: Sam
The Abe Okie award for being Abe Okie: Abe Okie

Chai chahiye?
Great photo story here on chai, the drink India can't do without

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

Absolutely bilkul: A year in India: Mussoorie, Modernisation and Movember


Absolutely bilkul: A year in India

Howdidy Doodily folks! Apologies for the radio silence on this blog for a while, it was a crazy last few weeks of semester, but now school is out things have calmed down a lot.

It’s lovely being up here just chilling in the run up to Christmas, enjoying the mountain environment and spending quality time with Kirsten. We were even able to sit out and sunbathe whilst reading this afternoon. It’s boiling hot in the winter sun, but when the sun goes in it’s freezing. We’ve also been enjoying the stunning sunsets from our house…the photo here does not really do it justice but hopefully gives you a flavour.

The view from our sofa at sunset, they have been stunning recently. PHOTO: KIRSTEN BEAVAN

So, unbelievably, we’ve almost completed our first year of marriage and of living in India together. It has flown by but as I said in the title, it’s been absolutely bilkul. For those of you without knowledge of Hindi, I should say bilkul means absolutely. Why then, you might ask, am I using this tautology: absolutely absolutely?

It all stems back to a funny story when I was in Delhi. I had learnt the Hindi expression, bilkul pagal, which means absolutely crazy, and tried to level it at a taxi driver who had sped me across Delhi like a madman before demanding an extra 200 rupees from the price agreed. Attempting to express my dissatisfaction during our altercation, I told him I thought he was absolutely bilkul. Needless to say my wife and Hindi speaking family members found this mistake hysterical, and now the expression has become common parlance in our household.

Mussoorie

I realise I have not written much about the town where we live and where Woodstock is located. Mussoorie is 175 miles north of Delhi in the foothills of the Himalaya, in the state of Uttarakhand (literally mountain region). It is about 7,000 feet up and nicknamed “Queen of the Hills”, and is a hill station where people come up to escape the heat of the plains. During the days of the Raj British soldiers came to convalesce. Local author and Woodstock alumnus Steve Alter has written an excellent piece about Mussoorie and its link with literature.

It is a six hour train journey from Delhi to Dehradun, and then an hour’s taxi ride up a hairpin mountain road (if you’ve not had car sickness before, you will here!).

It has changed a lot in the 20 years since Kirsten was here growing up, and she often points out new concrete developments which sadden her deeply. I guess that is a sign of India modernising (see more below), and inevitable in some ways.

Mussoorie from below PHOTO: CHESSY BEAVAN
It has numerous hotels and guest houses, and at weekends, particularly in holiday periods, it is flooded with tourists. It is a gateway to some great walking in the Himalayan foothills, although I’m not convinced local tourists ever get beyond the central attractions of the ferris wheel, horse rides and aquarium (containing Mussoorie’s only escalator)!

It still has a number of historic buildings such as St Paul’s Church and Christ Church, the Old Library, a wooden skating rink (the largest in India apparently), and a cemetery. We hope these will be preserved for the future.

It also has a cinema called Picture Palace which is now some sort of hideous 3D tourist attraction, and I'm told, a Clock Tower, although sadly I've never seen it as it was taken down some years ago because it was cracked, and has still not reappeared. I wait in hope...

Anyway, you should really come to see Mussoorie for yourself. As a taster, a Woodstock parent and fellow Brit David Berger has put up some great photos of the bazaar on his blog, so please take a look his photos, which really capture the everyday feel of the town brilliantly.

Mussoorie's ancient cemetery entrance PHOTO: KIRSTEN BEAVAN
There is also a great video about the school, the Himalayas and the recent mountain festival, which included the first Mussoorie half marathon which I took part in, available to watch here.

Modernisation

As I have alluded to above, we see signs of India rapidly modernising all around us: building work, everyone with mobile phones, shops selling domestic appliances, and huge numbers of cars on the road. This is all a far cry from 20 years ago when there was much less traffic and fewer technological advances.

In some ways it’s great that people are prospering and able to move up the social scale into a burgeoning middle class out of poverty, and this is a good thing.

However, one can’t help thinking this modernisation comes at a cost. We sometimes see adverts of TV where the whole western lifestyle is being sold as the best way forward. Although there are benefits to modern technology, it seems India is teetering on the brink of verging away from its roots founded in the family and spirituality.

If India were to abandon these foundations and go the same way as the west in chasing the material dream, this would be a tragedy. The results of this in the west have caused much unhappiness and loneliness as we have moved away from family and God and embraced a secular society. But part of me sees the juggernaut of materialism as unstoppable, not just here but everywhere across the world. Only time will tell how things will pan out.

Movember

In November we took part in the Movember moustache and beard-growing charity event, to raise money for a local children’s hospital to buy a number of wheelchairs. The event was embraced by the community and we ended up raising a huge 150,000 rupees, a phenomenal amount. There was a competition for the best moustache, and my effort ended up a half shaved, half moustachioed head, which sadly did not win! After shaving it off, I realised a number one shave was not the best haircut for winter, so I am living in my Tibetan woolly hat during these cold months.


Photo: From the side
Left, crazy sideburns for Movember; right, a shorn Ed cutting firewood by the bukari PHOTO: KIRSTEN BEAVAN




Merry Christmas
It just remains for us to wish you a very Merry Christmas wherever you are reading this. We hope you have a relaxing time and remember afresh the great news of Jesus’ birth this Christmas time. With all good wishes from Mussoorie, Ed and Kirsten.

PS My parents-in-law kindly subscribed us to the Guardian Weekly, which is an excellent read and keeps us in touch with world and UK affairs. I had a letter published in it recently, which you can read here.

PPS Wonderful to see England wrap up a test series win in the cricket recently. Sadly my schedule and long distances precluded me from attending any of the games, but I followed it closely on TV and was delighted we won a series for the first time in India in 28 years. Jai England! (Sorry Kathy H!).

Our official Christmas photo with Kirsten's Mum and Aunt PHOTO: SELF TIMER!



Wednesday, 19 September 2012

A month in the life of Woodstock: The Dalai Lama, human log fluming, and cross country (not all at the same time)

The Dalai Lama at Woodstock

The DL laughing at Woodstock on Sunday
Pic: Phuriwat Chirapisit (Fuse)
After weeks of planning in my department and to-ing and fro-ing, His Holiness the Dalai Lama came to Woodstock on Sunday (September 16). It was his fourth visit to the school since he was exiled from Tibet in 1959, and he has long term links with the area, as Mussoorie was his first port of call after he left Tibet before moving to Dharamsala.

As communications associate at the school I had the job of welcoming press and chaperoning our student photographer Fuse during the event, so we got a great view of his arrival, while the rest of the school was locked up in the gym. Surrounded by a huge security entourage, the video below shows him coming up the school ramp, and you can see me shaking his hand and saying "a very warm welcome" (sorry it's on its side but when I rotate it I lose the sound).

I also got to ask him a question later during the Q&A session, what does he feel about the current situation in Tibet's capital Lhasa, which is being rapidly China-fied, to which he gave a very diplomatic answer, at one point thanking the Communists for helping Tibetans develop more character as a result of their struggles.

HH the DL with WS Principal Dr Long
As for the second part of my question, does he still work out (I read he uses a treadmill everyday), I did not get an answer! Perhaps it got lost in translation.

My orginal question was going to be "What football team do you support", but much to Kirsten's relief I didn't ask this. My sources tell me he supports Manchester United (boo).


He is certainly quite a character and had us all in fits of laughter at times. He's a bit like a cuddly grandfather. His speech was at times interesting, at times hilarious (at one point he turned round to ask his assistant what he was supposed to be talking about!), at times difficult to understand because of his accent, but the overriding themes seemed to be show love and compassion, don't view people through the lens of race or religion but look for our common humanity, and develop a positive mental attitude. All good things.

From a Christian perspective it was interesting he admitted he had no special powers to heal or bless. Ultimately he said one has the power within oneself to change, a difficult concept for Christians who believe in an relational creator God and the inherent sin inside us which we cannot ever overcome apart from Christ.


All in all a fantastic, slightly surreal day, and certainly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. There is a great piece by a visiting journalist Joanna Sugden on the day here: The Dalai Lama does Woodstock



Log blog

It was Kirsten's birthday earlier this month, which coincided with our two-thirds of a year wedding anniversary, so I whisked her away to a lovely hotel for the weekend. We were staying just outside Dehradun near the Tons River, an area which we soon discovered was a birdspotters paradise, with numerous species flying around the beautiful gardens of the hotel, including a...er...red bird, a yellow bird, and a green and blue one (ornithology never was my strong point!).

We walked down to the river on both days which were sunny, and were able to swim, despite it being quite shallow.



Being an adventurous soul making the most of the great outdoors, and inspired by the thought that my absent bros-in-law would have done it (Marks Bradby and Oden take a bow), I decided to brave the strong current and get up close and personal with the river. Sadly I didn't have a surf board, but I found human log fluming was quite fun, particularly when my butt wasn't scraping against the stones on the bottom.

Kirsten had a go too, and although our wedding rings got quite battered, my wife assures me this is all testament "to the rich tapestry of our marriage". Watch me go on the video (above)!


Cross country challenge: I've still got it!


Still got it: Ed running in the red of Merlins
It was the school interhouse cross country tournament earlier this month, and almost 20 years after my last cross country run, I was determined to take part and rack up some points for my house Merlins (a bird, the other houses are Condors and Eagles).

I decided to run with the Grade 9 boys, the year we are advisers to, so that meant a two-mile trek round the chukkars (circles) at the top of the hill here.

It's fair to say my wife didn't have the utmost confidence in me, particularly as my earlier attempt to run at altitude had ended with my lungs almost exploding.

It is really tough running at this altitude, and I did have to stop and walk a few times, but I was pleased to finish the course in just under 25 minutes.

Amazingly Merlins, who in recent years have underachieved in the sporting arena, won the entire tournament, so my efforts were not in vain.

Now I just have to decide whether to run the Mussoorie half marathon in November...if so I really better start training sharpish!

 

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Landslides and the Monsoon

Workers inspect the damage after the landslide outside our house
Slip land-sliding away!

So we arrived back in Mussoorie a week ago (gosh I'm becoming Americanised by Woodstock starting sentences with so!). It is Monsoon season for the next couple of months, which effectively means we are living in a cloud, and it rains incessantly. Apparently though this is a very light Monsoon compared to previous years, and we have had some clear periods and even some sun. But it is still very damp, difficult to dry clothes, and miserable for sun worshippers (such as my wife). It also means there are more spiders, scorpions and leeches sharing our humble abode.

Talking of our house, the other night at about 5am we were awoken by a huge rumbling which seemed very close to our home. We thought it was strange but were too tired to go and investigate, so turned over and went back to sleep. The next morning we got up and found a group of men in our garden area (I use the term garden loosely). I groaned and went outside to complain, fearing more disturbances from builders who had plagued our lives last semester. I was politely requested to look at a large landslide which had occured, stopping just metres from our house. That shut me up pretty sharpish!

Last term a huge amount of earth was dumped in our garden to fill a hole, this was then saturated with the Monsoon rain. This earth was pushing against a holding wall which could not take the weight...hence the landslide. The good news is that noone was hurt, and our house has strong foundations and should be fine (famous last words). But as the photo below shows, it was a bit close for comfort!

The view from our window!

Not pret-a-porter

You know you are back in India when red-uniformed porters try and carry your luggage at railway stations. These guys have an irritating tendency to board a train just as it arrives at your destination thereby precluding all passengers from alighting. They then try and grab your suitcase and carry it for a fee. Getting on or off a train is already tricky as often the whole extended family of Indian passengers board a train to say goodbye, clogging up the corridor, even though they are not travelling. These porters do offer a useful service but will often try and charge foreigners an inflated fee. On this occasion I gave them a firm "nehi donyevard" ("no thanks") as we did not require their services, although my conscience was piqued when one of them opined: "If you people do not use us how will we survive?"

Indian bookworm

I am enjoying reading Indian novels and books on the country while being here. Anything by William Dalrymple is great, currently I am reading Kirsten The Age of Kali which is very informative. We were interested to read that the city of Lucknow used to be one of the cultural centres of India, but sadly has been in decline over the last 50 years. Some of the religious violence which has taken place in recent years is also shocking to read about.

I enjoyed White Tiger by Aravind Adiga and I'm loving A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. Set in 1970s Mumbai during the Emergency period, when the Government ruled by decree, it paints an illuminating portrait of India as the four characters from different backgrounds struggle to survive in a modernising India. The book captures the ghastly injustice and violence of the caste system, the grim reality of life in a slum, and the values and priorities of Indian families. It is still remarkably pertinent to Indian life today, and I would heartily recommend it.

I also read One Hundred Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseni, the follow up to the Kite Runner, but that is set in Afghanistan. It's a great, but somewhat depressing, read.

Power problems

Some of you have asked if we have been affected by the recent power cuts affecting most of northern India. Fortunately Woodstock has generators so we have not been had any blackouts, but the nearby town of Mussoorie has been. My brother-in-law pointed out that while many well-off Delhi dwellers were complaining their air conditioning was not working, hundreds of millions of Indians still do not have access to electricity. Makes you realise how lucky we are.

Highway On My Plate

Last term as part of my job I helped facilitate* the visit of a film crew from popular Indian food show Highway On My Plate to the school. You can watch the 20-minute programme online, it gives a great snapshot of Woodstock life and the beautiful campus, and if you watch carefully, you may spot me lurking in the background!

*I use this term ironically. Obviously in my job I also stovepipe out our key messages to our relevant stakeholders etc etc...

Monday, 7 May 2012

India's uneven platforms

Many of you will know I'm a bit of a trainspotter, so I've enjoyed travelling round India on its excellent and efficient railway system.

My wife Kirsten and I took the sleeper train from Mumbai to Goa for our honeymoon which was a very cheap alternative to flying, and gives you a far better snapshot of Indian life than taking to the skies.

As you travel through both cities and rural areas there is never a dull moment, as you see people (often women) working in the fields, kids playing cricket on any scrap of open space, or even in the middle of a busy road, and others going about their daily ablutions (the luxury of privacy is not an option for them).



Indian railway stations are a microcosm of society. There are people everywhere, many sleeping on the platforms waiting hours for a connection. But many sleeping there because that is their home. Railway platforms are a magnet for the crippled and disabled in Indian society. This makes waiting at a station an uncomfortable experience for the western traveller.

You are frequently approached by the poor and lame, begging for money or food. Sometimes there are men walking on their hands in a scrunched up crouching position because they cannot use their legs. They also live on the station, rejected by a system where they cannot afford healthcare. Seeing people like this makes you want to cry.

This is when you face the difficult decisions on how to respond. Do I engage with the person, compared to whom I have riches beyond their imagination? Do I ignore them and not make eye contact, because I'm fed up with being hassled in India?



It's a difficult dilemma for every westerner in India. We had an excellent devotion at Woodstock School recently, where former teacher Andy Matheson, who is international director for Christian charity Oasis, and has a wealth of experience of working with the urban poor in India, urged us to try and personalise the situation. Ask the person their name, engage them in a conversation, and try and communicate Christ's love through a chat. This could be the only positive interaction they have had in days.

But I won't say I have always been able to do this, after long, tiring train journeys, the default position is often to try and ignore the immense poverty that is all around. It's something which challenges one's philosophical and spiritual convictions.

I try and have a bunch of bananas with me when travelling, as these serve as a useful thing to give out. But I realise this will not solve this person's long term predicament.

So even for an avid trainspotter like me, it's not always a laugh a minute travelling around this amazing and diverse country on the train.