Monsoon Musings from Mussoorie

We've been back in Mussoorie for about a month now, living through the Monsoon season when it rains pretty much incessantly for about three months. It's dark, damp and dingy inside for most of the time, although when the mist clears it reveals some magnificent crisp views of the surrounding mountains. The trees and hills are a verdant green and there are ferns and flowers everywhere.

Although it's not that easy living here during Monsoon, we really have nothing to complain about compared to so many people in this region. You may have seen on the news how bad the Monsoon was here in June, when heavy rain caused flooding which killed thousands of people in places very close to Mussoorie. More than 5,000 people are estimated to have lost their lives, with some pilgrimage areas such as Kedarnath badly affected.

The school is responding by getting involved in long term aid projects in some of the nearby villages which were affected. We are also contributing to a fund to buy emergency bags of basic provisions for those affected. E mail me if  you would like to know how to donate to this fund.

Silver linings: The view from our window when the Monsoon mist clears PHOTO: KIRSTEN BEAVAN

Parlez-vous francais? Tu veux etre professeur?

For the first three weeks of term I have been spending most of my time in the classroom teaching French. The new French teacher at Woodstock had problems getting her visa, so I was drafted in at the eleventh hour to cover her lessons.

It's been a great experience and has made me have a new-found respect for teachers. This won't be news to those of you who are teachers, but teaching is HARD WORK! It takes a lot of preparation, patience, strength of character, and the classes themselves are draining, as you need to be up front and on your game. Kids will pick up on any inconsistencies, and at times try and take a mile if you give them an inch. One negative incident can derail a whole lesson, and when it goes badly it can be pretty demoralising, but when it goes well it's very satisfying!

Nothing new to all of you who are teachers, but an insight for me. Perhaps something for the future?

Fog blog: Away day blues

Back in the UK it's around about this time I'm dusting down my road atlas or booking trains for away day trips to Morecambe or Mansfield, or some such similar beautiful English towns, as I follow the mighty Southend United Football Club.

It's fair to say that following Southend United is one of the things I miss most (after family) about being away from the UK. The closest I got to a game when we were back in the summer was visiting the ground (see pic below).

Visiting the home of football: Chessy and Ed at Roots Hall PHOTO: SELF TAKE

So it was with great anticipation that I set off a few Saturdays ago to watch the first away match of the season, following the Woodstock senior boys team in the renowned Jackie tournament (no I'm not sure who Jackie is either), at the nearby St George's College.

This was different from an English league football match in just about every way. To start with, my method of transport to the trip was by scooter, and I weaved my way down through the steep roads of Mussoorie to the venue, avoiding cows, goats and the plethora of people always walking on the roads in India.

When I arrived it was not a surprise to hear the match was not kicking off at the scheduled time. This is India and things often run late. Koi baht nehi (no worries), it meant I could go and look round the school for a while.

The stony pitch at St George's ED BEAVAN

When we did get going about an hour later the most obvious difference was the pitch. Football is a game which should be played on grass. The pitch at St George's is gravel. Actually, that's an insult to gravel. The surface was in fact small stones, with huge puddles along the sidelines. Even Barcelona would struggle to play football on this surface, and although our boys tried, a passing game was never going to reap dividends here.

The other factor at play here was fog. I've been to games with fog back home, but this was swirling Monsoon mist, at times so thick you could not see the far goal from the halfway line. The picture below shows our coach Tim desperately trying to locate the players.

Our boys did well, but they were up against the St George's alumni team, so it was literally men against boys. We lost 2-0, although we didn't see the second goal because of the mist.

One of the most extraordinary sights of the day was the end of the preceding match to ours, when the coach of a boys team forced his players to do roly polys across the gravel pitch, because they had lost their game. In any other country this would be seen as a mild form of child abuse, here, it was shrugged off with the odd puzzled stare but nothing more.

So, like so many away trips with the Shrimpers, it was defeat and little to cheer about. But on the plus side it was only a half hour scooter trip home, and later on I managed to locate Accrington Stanley v Portsmouth on TV, which was a cracking game.

Spot the ball...players...anything? Coach Tim struggles to see ED BEAVAN

Anyone for Pembs?

We spent ten days of our summer holiday in Pembrokeshire, an area of South Wales which is without doubt one of the most beautiful parts of the UK.

We were truly blessed with the weather and enjoyed a heatwave as we basked in the sun on beautiful beaches and walked along the rugged coastline with its towering cliffs.

The holiday also coincided with an unprecedented summer of British sporting success, with Andy Murray winning Wimbledon, the British and Irish Lions winning the rugby series down under, and the first test being clinched in dramatic fashion.

I would strongly recommend a trip to this part of the world if you ever get the chance (although I can't guarantee it will improve the sporting success of your nation!).

The stunning coastline in Pembrokeshire ED BEAVAN

Flagging up political tensions in Mussoorie

Last Thursday were the celebrations for Indian independence day, with flagraising ceremonies at Woodstock and across the country. Unfortunately, Mussoorie hit the headlines for the wrong reasons on this day, as the leaders of the two main parties, the BJP and Congress, squabbled like children over who should raise the flag. Watch all the gory details on the video below. As the article says, it would have been comic if it wasn't so sad and immature.

http://www.ndtv.com/article/cities/congress-bjp-netas-fight-over-hoisting-the-tricolour-in-mussoorie-406343

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.

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!

Jai Hind! Indian Independence Day

Jai Hind! (Victory to India!) My first Indian Independence Day

The Indian flag is raised during the ceremony in the school gym

Two years ago I was a singleton in London stuck in the daily grind of the rat race, and wasn't even in touch with Kirsten. On Wednesday I stood in the school gym next to Kirsten, my wife, wearing a kurta (long shirt/dress that Indian men wear) singing the Indian national anthem, as part of the flag raising ceremony for the 65th year of Indian independence!! It felt surreal how quickly things have changed...who'd have thought I'd have ended up the foothills of the Himalaya in India!

It was a great day, and you can read more about it and see photos in the article I wrote for the school website here.

The Indian national anthem, entitled Jana Gana Mana, is rather challenging for an Englishman to learn, but I've just about mastered the first line. It was composed and scored by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore in Sankritised Bengali. I've put the words below with a translation, it basically goes through different regions of India...why not have a go at singing it...this YouTube video should help you sing along, it sounds like someone singing it accompanied by their Casio keyboard in their bedroom.

What's funny about the anthem is that the end note seems to leave it hanging...I'm informed by a musician here it ends on a fourth...so it sounds unfinished...like it needs a final line which never comes. It's a bit like ending God Save the Queen on "long to reign over us". Have a listen to the link above and see if you agree.

National Anthem of India

Jana gaṇa mana adhināyaka jaya he
Bhārata bhāgya vidhātā
Pañjāb Sindhu Gujarāṭa Marāṭhā
Drāviḍa Utkala Baṅga
Vindhya Himāchala Jamunā Gaṅgā
Uchhala jaladhi taraṅga
Tava śubha nāme jāge
Tava śubha āśhiṣa māge
Gāhe tava jaya gāthā
Jana gaṇa maṅgala dhāyaka jaya he
Bhārata bhāgya vidhāta
Jaya he, jaya he, jaya he
Jaya jaya jaya, jaya he.

English translation

Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people,
Dispenser of India's destiny.
Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Shindu,
Gujarat and Maratha,
Of the Dravida and Orissa and Bangla;
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,
mingles in the music of Jamuna and Ganges and is
chanted by the waves of the Indian Ocean.
They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise.
The saving of all people waits in thy hand,
Thou dispenser of India's destiny.
victory forever!

Greetings of the day! I love Indian English!

Dear Sir/Ma'am,

Greetings of the day! I saw that fellow last week and he has told me to do the needful. Trust you will be able to tell me your timings for the train to Delhi. I must warn you there is a bifurcation at Saharanpur where the train will change direction. What to do? If you can avail yourself of the itinerary and tell me the good name of your wife I will proceed to make the booking, otherwise you may need to prepone, as I'll be out of station next week.

I'm pushing off shortly so kindly revert.

Thanks and regards,

Ranjeet Singh

I've made up the above but it is similar to some of the communications I've received from our travel agent in Delhi. Indian English still uses a number of archaic or unusual words which are delightful to the ear. My father in law tells me "good name" is a direct translation of the Urdu word for name. It certainly makes some conversations feel like a throwback to a bygone era!

Kirsten also receives some interesting communications in her role as admissions director at the school, this is one that came from Thailand recently...looks like it came straight through Google Translate!

hello! yes i giel foe fungus my name is *&^%$ please as i haers to have a person say that the school where India study excellent i will feel like to go to the school if the teacher will come to Thailand helps to contach with seek me bot to letter at I want to go to school very there the will teacher come to speak or feeshness that have interesting substance about the education pleasa now istays mookdahan is studyying the primary school level studies yere that 5 me will go to while 6 graduate of theolongies are help answer with Thank yes


Where is the Monsoon?

We've had a bit more rain in recent days but the Monsoon is still light compared to previous years. Everywhere is green and mossy which is beautiful, and when the mist lifts there are great views of the hills around, with clouds floating in the valleys. Below are some great shots of the Monsoon by two of my colleagues Amy and Abe.




Great shot of mist in the rainforest PIC: ABE OKIE

Mist hangs over the valley looking down from Mussoorie PIC: AMY SEEFELDT

Mossy walls on the chukka PIC: MY DARLING WIFE



Bethany, Kirsten and me holding packet of cornflakes, in atmospheric Monsoon mist Pic: ABE OKIE

More Olympic spirit please footballers

The English football season started this weekend; it seems a bit too soon after the Olympics, when we were all inspired by the fantastic spirit, determination and guts displayed by the Olympic athletes, many of whom had been training for years for this one shot at glory. We were inspired by Mo Farah and Jessica Ennis, and also enjoyed the gymnastics and diving. London did us proud!

Such a refreshing change from the lying, cheating and overpaid footballers in the Premier League, they really could learn a lot about sportsmanships from their Olympic counterparts. Saying that though I still watched the Liverpool - West Brom game with the boys at school. Thanks to the school we all have satellite TV, and I can watch five Premier League games a weekend, a couple from the Championship, live French, Spanish and German games (happily for Kirsten, I don't!).

I also watched the Test Match from a blazing Lords as the Monsoon rain fell. Very bizarre watching the cricket in sun-drenched England as we shiver in the rain here in India.

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...