Into Thick Air

Back to stinky, hot, humid Delhi. We arrived in Delhi early on the morning of the 8th. At the airport, we said our goodbyes to Drew and Hanna, who were off to find a hotel room in the downtown area before flying out the next day to continue their traveling adventures in Indonesia. The remaining four of us grabbed a cab to Majnu Ka Tilla, the Tibetean colony the team had stayed at when we first arrived in Delhi.

We were lucky to get the last room at the Wongdhen Guest House, A/C included, so took it for two nights. The next morning we had a leisurely day of sight seeing before deciding on the next move. Hilde, the Belgian girl, decided that she had had enough for one trip and rebooked her flight back to Europe. Meanwhile, Doug, the other Ross, and myself planned out an intricate train trip that would take us from Delhi, north to Amritsar, then over to Kalka and up to Shimla. Prior to the disaster, we had booked train tickets from Shimla to Delhi to complete our intended Leh-Manali trip. This short 5 day adventure would allow us to hook up with those original bookings while also getting to visit some amazing places. We all thought it was better to get out and do something with our remaining days rather than sit around Delhi.

The air conditioned train ride from Delhi to Amritsar was great. It took us through the massive farming areas of the Punjab, India's bread-basket. Upon arriving in Amritsar, we were immediately assaulted by the chaotic frenzy of this relatively small, old city. It took us a rickshaw ride into the main city and then another back out to the train station area before we found accommodations, but fine accommodations they were at the Tourist Guest House. Big, high ceilings and marble floors, all for 600rp per night (about $15). We still had time left in the day to head out to the main attraction in Amritsar, the Golden Temple.

The Golden Temple is the most revered site for the Sikh faith. It was build in the late 1500's and, as you can see from this picture that I borrowed, the temple is surrounded by a large pool. The name Amritsar means The Pool of the Nectar of Immortality, and so the name of the city that grew up around the temple.

As with other Sikh temples, the Golden Temple is intended to be a place where all men and women are welcome, regardless of religious leaning. It is an amazing place to come and walk around, or just sit and relax. The temple also puts on a tasty free lunch/dinner, which of course we took advantage of both days we were in Amritsar.

The Golden Temple is also know for a more recent, darker event in the history of India. In 1984, Sikh separatists who were wanted for arrest by the Indian government took refuge in the Golden Temple. The PM at the time, Indira Ghandi, ordered the army into the temple to arrest them and resulting in many casualties, including children who were in the temple at the time. As a consequence, two of her Sikh bodyguards assassinated Ghandi not long after.

When we were in Amristar, we also made a visit to Jallianwala Bagh. In 1919 Amritsar was one of the many towns to see protests by followers of Satyagraha, the non-violent movement led by Mahatma Ghandi. On April 13, soldiers opened fire on a large crowd of unarmed men, women, and children who had gathered at Jallianwala Bagh, killing hundreds and wounding many more, and is one of the pivotal events in the path up to an independent India. The site today is an interesting and well put together memorial park. The original walls still stand in some places and you can see the bullet holes in various places.

After a day and half in Amritsar, we back tracked on the train to Ambala and then up to Kalka. Kalka is the start of the small gauge, 'toy train' that runs deep into the foothills of the Himalayas to the city of Shimla. During the days of British rule, the Brits in government found Delhi too hot in the summer so they moved the capitol to Shimla, high in the mountains, because they could. In order to access this misty, cool retreat, they were required to build a 100km long rail line. Since the hills are so steep, the route had lots of twists and turns. Therefore, the gauge of rail is narrower so that the train can make the tight turns and the locomotive and cars are tiny, compared to the regular train system. The ride up is long, about 5.5 hours, but very scenic as it makes its way through various forests, from thick rain forest to scotch pine.

Shimla itself is a quaint tourist destination from more well off Indians. The main drag is a little slice of England, with many Tudor style buildings and even a cathedral. It looks right out of place for India. There are lots of hotels and lots to buy, but overall, it is a nice, clean destination and certainly was a lot cooler than Delhi. We took a day there and visited Jakoo Temple. Build on the highest spot of land in the very hilly town, this temple is dedicated to the Hindu god Hamuman, the monkey god. And there are lots of monkeys. Be prepared to hold onto your camera tightly or to punch a monkey in the mouth (or carry a stick). After a couple of otherwise relaxing days, it was back down the tracks to catch an overnight mail train back to stinky, hot, humid Delhi.

Incredible Beauty, Incredible Tragedy: Conclusion

At the end of a hectic two days of travel, we found ourselves in Sri Nagar. When we booked our flights to India, we had elected to not buy a flight back from Leh to Delhi, preferring to make our way back down by road and adventure. From Leh, there are only two options by road to reach the south. You can either travel the rough and bumpy road west from Leh to Sri Nagar, or you can take the even worse road east to Manali. We ruled out the Sri Nagar option early in the trip due to the on-going violent political situation in this region.

Sri Nagar is the capital city of Jammu-Kashmir and is the largest city in India that does not have a Hindu majority. The Kashmir is predominantly Muslim with a strong separatist movement. Until 1947, Kashmir was one of the princely states of India, ruled by Hari Singh. Pakistan invaded the region in 1947 and took most of Sri Nagar. To prevent Kashmir becoming part of Pakistan, Hari Singh signed a pact with the Indian government, providing for the city and a large part of the rest of the kingdom become Indian Kashmir. The section of his kingdom controlled be Pakistan became Pakistan Kashmir. Ever since, the actual border has been disputed, hence the term 'Line of Control', and strong separatist politics. Some separatists favour becoming part of Pakistan while others are proponents of a separate Kashmir nation.

From time to time, problems erupt in the Kashmir, only to be quickly quelled by the Indian Army Forces. This is one of those times. Since we arrived in Leh, there have been periodic uprisings in Sri Nagar, accompanied by shootings of protestors. Many people were killed during this recent uprising and apparently four more protestors were killed yesterday and the curfew, which had been just recently lifted, was reinstated. The curfew prevents people from moving about during the day, rather than at night. This has a massive impact on the citizens and businesses of this very historic and picturesque town, which under better circumstances, would be a tourist Mecca.

So, by virtue of our luck and good judgment summing to form our fate, we had ended up in Srinagar after all. As soon as we entered the Kashmir Valley, in fact, we noticed a marked increase in military presence. By the time we reached the city itself, you could count the troops and police well into the hundreds if not more. Thankfully, we had been lucky enough to find a driver from Sri Nagar, and this proved to be invaluable. He was able to steer us to a nice, safe hotel, which we managed to negotiate a great rate for, due to the poor tourist season. We were required to have an escort if we left the hotel and the driver, Riyah, was actually willing to come back later that night and take us to a restaurant for a meal. This was beyond the call of duty as he had just driven us for two straight days. We had a great meal in a Jain restaurant and called it a night.

After a good sleep, we were up early so that Riyah could drive us to the airport. Going to the airport in Sri Nagar is no easy task. First, we needed to have tickets for the flight before we would be granted entry. We did not have tickets, nor could we get them as the curfew meant all the businesses were closed. Second, you have to run a gauntlet of security measures, starting with a frisking and bag scan more than a kilometer from the actual terminal.

Riyah was pretty confident we would be able to talk our way through, with the story that we would be picking up our tickets at the ticket counter outside the terminal. That got us by the first check but we were subject to more stringent inquiry a few meters down the road. Riyah told the officer at the checkpoint that we were picking up tickets and he was immediately asked to get out of the cab. Fortunately, Drew and Hanna, the two Scots, had their flight itinerary showing that they had purchased tickets from Leh to Delhi but were obviously unable to access that flight because the Leh airport was closed due to flooding. This evidence that we were somewhat stranded and intended change our flights at the airport was enough and we were ushered through. At the terminal, we managed to get some of the last seats on the first flight to Delhi and, 4 more security check later, we were in the air and on our way to Delhi.

Later, we talked about the long streak of luck that we had, and good decisions we made, which got us out of the disaster area relatively quickly and unscathed. We had, firstly, been very lucky to have the opportunity to visit a region of incredible beauty, see things and stay in homes with Ladakhi families, and that will be an experience I never forget. We were also very lucky to escape much of the incredible tragedy that hit the people of Ladakh. Of the thousands of tourists in the region, I would hazard to guess that we were the only ones, or at best six of the very very few who were able to get out on their own. We were very much more fortunate than those trapped in the area or worse. Most people were trapped in Leh or on the roads or trails, and rescue took days.

The impact on the area can't be understated. This was an unprecedented natural disaster. The rain storms were part of a larger system that effected large areas of Pakistan, India, and China with great cost of lives. In the Ladakh area, the last figure I heard was over 150 dead and 400 missing, most in Leh and nearby villages. Over 15000 were injured. Choglamsar, a village next to Leh, was wiped off the map. The storm also claimed many of the road workers; poor Indians who come to the area seasonally to do back breaking work for the relatively high wages (300 rupees per day = around $8 CDN). In Leh, large sections of the old town in which we worked were destroyed, with great loss of life. Sonam Norboo Memorial Hospital, in which we worked for the last month, was destroyed. Only our Paediatric Unit, a separate building at the rear of the property, was spared and was quickly converted into the Emergency room. We have been able to find out that most of the people we worked with are unhurt but are still trying to find out about others. The bus station from which we had started our trek was destroyed and over 50 people were killed. The airport was closed as it was also flooded but has subsequently reopened. Apparently, it was chaos as tourists scrambled to get out on the first flights. Some countries, such as Israel, chartered a flight to get their citizens out.

As harrowing as our tale might seem, we were not there at the centre of events. A couple of days ago, I got an email from David Shackleton, describing the situation. David is a former UBC prof who has lived in Leh on and off for the past few years. This is what he had to say:

"Hello – Just a short report to let you know what’s been happening here in Ladakh. The first sign of problems was a thunderstorm of tropical proportions that began around 2.00 am in the Himalayan mountains south of the Indus. It travelled from east of Leh westwards to beyond Leh. The lightening lit up the sky, silhouetting the mountain peaks with flashes at almost 30 sec intervals.

The next day, we had the first reports of 7 houses washed away in Basgo to the west of Leh, with the loss of 10 people’s lives and the destruction of two road bridges – one at Basgo and the other at Basgo. Also, the roads from Manali and Srinigar were closed. Little rain fell in Leh itself and certainly there was no serious destruction. Our guest house – made entirely of adobe brick and mud - had a few leaks in the roof.

Later this same day the river running near Chanspar rose dramatically and we could hear its roar over 200 meters away. The bridge between Chanspar and Sankar was almost washed away but no other destruction in that area as far as we know. As the evening progressed black storm clouds gathered on both sides of the Indus valley and heavy rain could be seen falling to the north of Leh.

That night around midnight, the thunderstorm from the north hit Leh – bringing high winds, torrential rains and lightening that lasted over an hour. It was during this downpour that the major damage to Leh and Chanspar occurred. Flash floods – one starting in the hills above and to the east of the Palace, and the other above Sabu and Choglamsar, tore down the gulleys bringing boulders and mud in unbelievable quantities.

In Leh, the flood’s route took it past the polo grounds and the old bus station, through the Leh Gate and into the new Bust Station and on as far as the Sonam Norboo Memorial Hospital (SNMH) and the petrol station. On its way, it took out buildings and deposited mud and rocks up to 60 cm deep. Vehicles were either smashed and twisted wrecks buried inside the stronger buildings or were washed down until the flood ran out of steam and the vehicles lay in heaps half buried in mud. The new hospital had 50 cm of mud covering the entire ground floor. Buildings and shops around the entrance to the new Bus Stand were either completely destroyed or had collapsed beyond repair. The large prayer wheel near the station’s entrance was found in the bus station, while the BSNL telephone company’s compound at the bottom of the stand was largely destroyed. It is still uncertain how many people died in this area – many who probably disappeared were the itinerant cobblers from southern India who worked and lived near the bus station.

Choglamsar suffered even greater human losses. Many houses lined the gulley down which the flood came. These were washed away along with their inhabitants. No one yet knows for certain how many people died there, but current information is that a total of around 130 bodies were brought to the SNMH with at least 500 people unaccounted for.

The next day we learned that almost all the roads between Hanu (near the border with Pakistan) and Khaltse were washed away, and though some houses were lost at Hanu Tang no deaths have been reported. A telephone call came in from Cynthia on Monday to say she was safe but stranded in Hanu Gongma. On either side of this high village were landslides and she would probably be there for at least 3-4 days.

Not surprisingly many people are still very scared and worried about the chances of more flooding. Each evening, large numbers of Ladakhis and Tibetans have moved to the high ground around Shanti Stupa and near the Gompa above Leh Place as well as along the road above Lamdon School. Volunteers of all stripes along with the army have been working wherever they can be of help. They are organised by various organisations such as the LBA and the main mosque.

Electricity just returned on Monday evening but communications are very difficult. The BSNL system is strill down, as is Aircel within India (strangely international calls are possible with Aircel), and Airtel service is intermittent. Most locals use the BSNL system with the result that it is impossible to contact friends and relatives via phone (cell or land line). All the people associated with Health Inc. are fine and we have been able to meet with most of them.

With the major roads blocked no food supplies are coming in to Leh, but some expect the Srinigar road to open in a few days (unlikely), bringing fresh vegetables and basic other supplies. The Manali road will apparently take much longer to repair. Most shops are re-opening including the local ladies selling vegetables along the main Bazaar. The fruit and veg market is of course running out of supplies and what is left is not in the best of condition.

Flights (commercial and military) are operating and the airlines are putting on extra flights Many westerners are happy to get out and the tourist shopkeepers are all assuming the this year’s tourist season is effectively over. For those of us remaining, there is a strange sense of helplessness even though we volunteer. At the same time, for many visitors there is little change – the restaurants are open and full and there is still shopping to do. Overall there is an air of unreality.

What has happened has, in all likelihood, never occurred before in written history in Ladakh. It is most likely that it was part of the storm front that hit NW Pakistan a couple of weeks earlier. Needless to say the infrastructure and emergency services simply don’t exist to cope with a disaster of this magnitude. It is impossible to say how long it will take to bring physical and service conditions back to “normal” but my guess is that it will take many months if not longer for recovery.

Update - today we had more rain but more heavy showers than anything else. In fact over the Ladakh Range on high ground there was a thin skim of fresh snow. With luck we might see some of the perseus shower tonight."

That is the story of this part of our journey. As we try to still make sense of all that has happened, spend some time and read more about the situation. We still have one week left in India, and I'll tell you about how we spent that time in the next entry.

-Ross

Incredible Beauty, Incredible Tragedy: Part 4

After we decided not to cross the bridge in Nimbo, we needed to come up with alternate plan to get out. We retreated as a group back to the hotel. At the bridge, we picked up Drew and Hanna, the two young Scots we had seen kicking stones off the road on the way down.

When things go sideways, all that you need are luck and good judgment. It was good judgment not to cross the bridge as it collapsed into the river a short time later. It was good luck that we emerged just west of the bridge, the last of six bridges which fell between where we were and Leh. If we were on the other side of any bridges, we would have been done for, waiting days for the army to rescue us. As it was, many less fortunate travelers found themselves in that situation.

Considering the situation, and all available options, we quickly realized that return to Leh would be impossible and that our only viable choice was to try to get to Sri Nagar, 400 km away and the next closest airport. From there, we could get to Delhi. In short, everything was turned on its head. We were going to have to change everything, go far, far out of our way to get back to safety, and we were going to have to leave most of our possessions in Leh. Still, there was little other choice. We asked the taxi driver if he would be willing to go the Sri Nagar, but he was not. Our best bet was to go west to the next closest town, Khalse.

Khalse is a bit of a ground-hog day for me. I didn't like it when I went through the first time, and got food poisoning. I didn't like it the second time, when we went on a long, kidney-jarring ride in a taxi as part of an outreach earlier in the project. And now I was heading back. Potentially for a multi-day stay as it turned out that the highway into Khalse from the other direction was also closed, apparently due to landslides. Nothing was moving in and out.

However, we had no other option. Once we got to Khalse, we made contact with the school headmaster, whom Phillip knows, and arranged to stay in the dorms, should we need accommodation. Then, we made the short walk into town, where in another moment of great luck, we ran into an Aussie traveler who had contracted a taxi from Sri Nagar the day before and now would be heading back. Through this guy, we were able to locate probably the only other Sri Nagar driver and he agreed to take us there. Once the road opened again.

There was little information coming in at that time, but the rumour was that the road would likely open in a few hours. We made one break for it in the taxi but were turned back at the police checkpoint. Back to the dorms to wait for who knows how long. As it turned out, it was only a couple more hours when Riyad, our taxi driver, appeared at the door and announced that the road was open. We quickly packed everything up, loaded the car, and set off on, hands-down, the most terrifying two-day journey that I have or will ever take.

Sure, the road was open. But, I had described this same road, from Khalse to Kargil, in an earlier post, and it was not good then. The dramatic high mountain road, over Lamyruru, was scary at that time. Now, covered with water and a thick layer or mud in several areas, it was ten times worse. Meeting traffic coming the other direction on the single lane, slick, steep road was heart-stopping. The most ridiculous sight was the westerner who we passed riding a Royal Enright motorcycle down the hill, his legs splayed out to the side to try and keep control and save him from the plunge off the side. Many tourists come to India with the idea of hiring an old style Royal Enright motorcycle and living the dream. Some clearly do not know when to pull the plug on the dream and retreat to safety.

As we drove along from Khalse and up the mountainside, it seemed like we could not keep ahead of the rain. In Khalse, it was blue skies. But a big, dark cloud appeared over the southern mountains and quickly grew into an imposing storm. More rain was exactly what this area did not need. We passed many small mudslides on the roads and in places, the road bed had begun to wash way into the river below. We realized that it was just a matter of time before more rain caused more slides. As we reached the 14000 ft pass at Lamyruru, it was raining hard and in an amazingly short period of time, the blue sky in from was enveloped with ominous rain clouds and the thunder and lightening began.

From then on, we were running with the rain. Riyad thought (rightly) that it was best to make good time on the road and try to get out of the the area quickly before the road closed and trapped us, or worse. However, no matter how slowly we drove, we were always driving too quickly for the conditions. When we were going 50km, we should have been going more like 30. When we were going 10km, we probably should have been stopped. Still, Riyad is a very good driver, so we had confidence that he knew what he was doing. He has driven this road for almost 20 years and knew all the curves and bumps.

When darkness fell, it got much worse. With the rain, we could see little of the narrow road. Debris and small mudslides would appear out of the dark into the headlights. At one point, we were driving alongside the Summu river, approaching Kargil. Through dark, I could see it coursing along more quickly than us; it was dark and full of mud and parts of trees. we hit a bit pothole or rock and the car bounced once, so that from my front seat vantage I was looking right into the river, past the eroded roadside. Then we bounced again and I was looking at the otherside of the road. Then we asked Riyad to kindly slow down, to which he readily agreed.

On the way from Khalse to Kargil, we passed dozens if not hundreds of mudslides. We thought that, as we got closer to Kargil, conditions would improve but they deteriorated. The largest slides were close to Kargil and some had been cleared only a short time before. And it was still raining hard. The last thrill of the trip came when we had to cross the Summu River into Kargil. The bridge is large and strong but at this time the river was clearly larger and stronger still. I mentioned this river earlier in the blog; on a good day it rips with tremendous force, down out of the Himalayas, and into Kargil. Now, it was completely out of control. We drove quickly across the bridge and held our collective breath as we watched the speed and force of water running below us. We had made it safely to Kargil; it was about 9 pm.

Surprisingly; amazingly, ridiculously, our driver wanted to continue, through the next pass. His thinking, again, was that it was better to clear the area before we became trapped. The group thought it was better that we were alive, so elected to overrule and stay the night. Riyad wasn't too happy, especially when two other vehicles that were traveling with us decided to continue the trip. Good luck might have got us to Kargil, but good judgment kept us there until daylight, when we could reassess.

In the morning, it was surprisingly not raining. Looking out from the river, however, blew my mind. I'll try to post some pictures of the water when I get the chance. Clearly, some of the areas of Kargil had flooded overnight, and there were large landslides in town. The area we looked across at had been described by Dr. Khan during our team visit to Kargil as 'unregulated development in a flood plane'. He was proven right by this obviously devastation. We also saw where the hillside had come down, forming an entirely new river into town and damaging several houses.

After stocking up with money from the only ATM in town, we hit the road again. In Kargil, we also added another member to the groud; Hilde, a Belgian girl who had been up the Zanskar valley and seen the rising water and slides coming first hand. She just wanted to get out of town so we made space for her. Riyad had heard that there were landslides for only a few kilometers out of town but, as it turned out, we encountered them for most of the the way to Sri Nagar, though fewer than the previous day's trip. Leaving Kargil, we again had to cross the Summu River across a bridge. A few moments of awe and wonder and we were safe on the other side. We followed this by a short dash along side the river, more or less at the same level as the road. Apparently, this part of the road is now gone but we had navigated most of the danger.

The drive for the next few hours was fairly uneventful. We drove through several picturesque towns and up into India Gate, the massive pass that drops you down into the Kashmir Valley. This part of the drive was amazing. Massive mountains and glaciers. All over the sweeping alpine meadow were nomads who bring sheep, goats, and horses up to the area for the summer pastures. This is a place I would like to get back to one day.

Dropping into the Kashmir Valley, is the most absurd road yet encountered. I thought the one along the Indus from Kargil that we drove in July was crazy; this one takes the cake. It is a mud and dirt track that is cut into the side of the steepest mountainside possible. As we skittered down the mud, I could feel the wheels sometimes spinning with a loss of traction, but overall, skilled driving took over and we made our way down the worst of it safely. At one point, we came across a bulldozer, pushing debris from the latest landslide off the edge of the cliff. As we waited for three of the longest minutes of my life, directly in the path of the slide, for the dozer to complete his work, I just stared, alternately, at the giant pile of small loose rock above the car, and the Kashmir Valley, hundreds of feet below.

As luck would have it, we had arrived just when a slide that had blocked the road for hours was cleared. The downside of this is that it meant coming up the narrow road were hundreds of trucks that had been delayed by the slide. Lot's of vehicles were still coming out of Kashmir but we were about the only ones going in. This meant we had to pass around the trucks on the thin, rough road. We passed may be one or two before Hilde had had enough and ordered Riyad to pull over and wait at a safe spot to let them pass. More good judgment. This got us out of the car and, because there were so many trucks still to come, we decided to walk down the road, through the jam. What a great walk. We took pictures and talked to some of the drivers and made our way most of the way down to the valley floor before Riyad caught up. One of the most memorable walks of my life.

After driving the car under a spilling water pipe to wash off the mud, we continued down the beautiful Kashmir Valley (also a place to go back to) all the way to Sri Nagar. We had escaped the disaster zone and entered a war zone....

Incredible Beauty, Incredible Tragedy: Part 3

Our first indication of trouble came before we went to bed, when our host, using her limited English, was able to convey to us that the bus we had planned to take from Ang back to Leh was not coming. She had heard this over the radio on the Ladakhi news. There was a rumour that the bus driver was already in Ang, so the other two in our party set off to find him and gain more information. However, when Philip and The Other Ross returned in the morning, they had established that the bus driver was nowhere to be found.

The first thing that I did when when I woke up in the morning was walk out to the road to find the bus stop, just in case. About 20m south of the guest house, I ran into the first mud on the road. It was a small slide, but covered the entire road with several inches of mud, requiring a bit of an awkward walk around. I turned north and made it about 15m past the guest house in the other direction before encountering a similar barrier. In my mind, I was starting to process what our options might be. We realized we would have to do some walking, perhaps as far as the highway, before we would be able to find a ride. We knew that a bridge had been damaged close to Leh so poured over the trekking maps looking for potential walk-arounds. Our plan at this point was to hitch a ride back as far as Basgo, then attempt to cross the Indus via a foot bridge and follow the south bank of the river to where it meets the Zanskar. From there, according to the map, we would be able to walk up to the Chilling road, thus bypassing the town of Nemyo, where the bridge had fallen. It would be a full day's walk.

As we set off out of Ang, things became more and more ominous. It was not long before we were walking beside the raging, brown Ang river. The day before it had been a picturesque clear mountain stream. Now, it threatened to breach the road bank and wash the road away. In places, the water had begun to come over the road as the bridges where to small to handle the volume of water. Water poured over the tops of the bridges. My feet started to break through the thin crust of pavement as it was undermined by the water. It felt like walking on thin ice.

There were numerous small landslides of porridge-like mud all along the road, most of them too deep to wade through. This started to give me concern because all around Ang, as well as a long stretch of the highway back to Leh is surrounded by massive, steep, unstable rock and mud slopes. I thought it was just a matter of time before we would encounter an insurmountable slide. Most of the Ladakh region is geologically different than that which surrounds it. Someone had told me that, when an ocean still divided Asia from India, Ladakh was an archipelago of islands in that ocean. As the two continental plates collided to form the Karakorum and Himalayan mountain ranges, Ladakh pressed into the middle. While the mountains of the great ranges are new, massive pillars of hard rock, most of the mountains in Ladakh are giant scree piles of soft stone that is easy to break apart in your hands. All of the towns and roads are built on and around these precarious slopes.

Additionally, Ladakh is a high altitude desert. Neither the natural nor man-made structures are designed to cope with large amounts of rain. Most of the buildings are made of mud bricks which are left out in the sun to dry. Everywhere in Ladakh, you can see mud bricks drying. The mortar between the bricks is a very sandy cement. In fact, I would say that it is also basically mud. There is some cement added to the sand and mud and water, but all that you need to do is pick with your fingers between the bricks and the cement will come away in your hands. Mud, rock, and sand are the only building materials available. There are very few trees and those are used to construct the roofs. That makes the walls and buildings of Ladakh ideal for the dry environment, but doesn't work so well when it rains.

After we had navigated several landslides and floods, we made it to one of the more luxurious hotels in the valley. Being the starting point for several treks in the area, there were several taxis there which had dropped of a new batch of hikers. We were saved. We managed to negotiate with a driver to take us to Basgo, well ahead of our predicted schedule.

We loaded up the taxi and made our way down the steep mountain road, without further incident, other than a scary crossing over a small bridge under which a massive, dark brown flow was crashing. On the way, we passed a couple of young trekkers slowly making their way down to the highway, moving stones from the road as they went. We got to to the highway, turned east, and made it about 2km. The first major bridge, in the town of Nimbo, was already under assault from the swollen river. A small section had fallen away and the army had closed the bridge to cars. Our options; cross the bridge on foot and hope to catch a ride on the other side, or wait on the safe side. We wisely chose to wait on the safe side of the bridge, to see what would happen; the first of many good decisions that we made as a group over the next two days.

Incredible Beauty, Incredible Tragedy: Part 2

It rained over night in Ulle, which I didn't think much about. In the morning, it was still cloudy and a little drizzly when we set out with our guide, Norboo, to look for snow leopards. It was a beautiful walk, through the barley fields and up onto the ridge. We didn't get very far, may be 100m beyond the last stone wall when Norboo pointed out the first snow leopard tracks. I was awestruck that the animal would have been so close to the house, obviously very recently as the rain would have otherwise washed the tracks away. It was apparent that the tracks belonged to a cat, and I would have thought a big one, but Norboo said it was just a baby.

We continued up higher into the hills until we made it to the summer pastures. We could see yak off in the distance, surprisingly high up the very steep hills. I've always thought yak would be a bit clumsy, but I guess not. Following a line of cairns, we eventually made it to a picturesque alpine river. Because of the night's rain, the river was too high to cross at the usual spot. We ventured farther upstream until we crested the hill and the river turned wide and calm. We doffed our boots and socks and waded into the brutally cold water. Shortly after crossing, there was another short walk up a hill to the top of the pass and the alpine lake that was our destination. It is a gorgeous spot; a small round lake situated in a crater from may be a volcano or some kind of meteor, with a view down the valley to massive 6000m peaks. What a great spot for lunch.

After a good break and tea, we headed back down. On the way, Norboo pointed out various medicial plants found in this particular area and I took loots of pictures of the amazing views and rocks. It looks like a climbing paradise; pictures to follow. At one spot, Norboo pointed out a rock that the snow leopards use to scratch themselves on. Looking really closely, I could see tiny white hairs on the underside of the rock. Unfortunately, this is as close as I actually got to a snow leopard, but still the hike and the chance was just as good as actually seeing one, may be. Norboo told us that Canadians were lucky when it came to seeing snow leopards. Last August, he had a Canadian woman come to stay at his house on a snow leopard quest. She arrived in the evening and, in the morning, watched from the window as a snow leopard killed and ibex, then spent the rest of the day photographing it. Lucky (not for the ibex).
The next day, we set off to walk from Ulle to Ang. This was going to be a long day. Over 18 km and across three passes, two of which were over 4700. It seemed a blessing at the time that it had rained again over night and so was cloudy when we set off. A blessing for walking, but rain in this area brings other problems. The rains had swollen the mountain rivers even more than the previous day and we had to been directed to a higher bridge that was safe to cross from our side of Ulle to the other. But, it was a fantastic walk.
We weren't sure about the location of the first pass, so Norboo agreed to meet us there. He was heading to Hemis, a small village on our route, so would take us over the pass. I managed to grunt up it, but it was a test. Relentlessly steep, and with a pack and the altitude, it was a test. I managed to get up, sucking in as much air as I could. Of course, it was nothing for Norboo. I don't mind that our Ladakhi guide can saunter up stuff like this. What I resent is the six year-old he brought along with him also sauntering up the pass like it is a walk to school. Carrying his school bag, because this was his walk to school. Seriously. The kid had a geometry set in his bag. Off to school for the day. Humbling.
Anyway, we summited the pass, had a quick rest and relax, then dropped down to Hemis. There we dropped the kid off at school and grabbed a quick lunch in a small outdoor restaurant. Energy for the next two passes. We left Norboo behind and quickly ascended the next, very easy pass. At the top, you look down into this massive rock and scree valley. It is spectacular and, way off in the distance, you can see another mountain rising out of the valley. And on the mountain, you can see a teeny, teeny line cutting its way from the bottom, back and forth, back and forth, until it reaches almost the top. That is the next pass. And as intimidating as it looked from there , it wasn't that bad in person. It was a good grade, not a steep grunt like the first one. May be we were just getting stronger by the minute.
We did it, had a celebratory rest and drink at the top and knocked off the descent into Ang through a narrow valley, with herds of pashmiri goats. When we arrived at Ang, we fould the first parachute cafe and enjoyed a cold mountain dew. Parachute cafes, literally cafes made from parachutes, are a common sight on the treks and provide welcome refreshment. After another quick walk through town, Doug and I located our friendly guest house, where we had some tea and a good rest before heading to bed for a deserved sleep. However, it was almost impossible to sleep that night. It thundered and lighteninged all night long. It rained until it was dripping through the roof onto my sleeping bag. It rained relentlessly thorough the night and very, very hard...

Incredible Beauty, Incredible Tragedy: Part 1

By now, a lot of people have probably heard about the devastating floods in the Ladakh area. In fact, you likely know more than I do. We have spent the last 3 days escaping from the area and are just now in Delhi, piecing it all together. One thing I know, though, is how lucky we were to get out, and travel such a long way to safety with few problems. Including the hike, a lot has happened in the last week, both adventurous and tragic. It will probably take a few postings to get it all down.

On August 2nd, four of us left Leh by bus, traveling to Likir to start a 4-day hike in the Sham range. Philip, a young guy from England who work with our team while he is completing an internship with the NGo we were associated with, had done the leg work to arrange the hike. Also joining Doug and I was another Ross, 'American Ross', who had been staying at the same guest house while he volunteered in Leh.

The bus dropped us off in, literally, the middle of no where, around noon. The bus didn't actually go to Likir, so we had to walk from the highway. The area is desert and the altitude as well as the intense Himalayan sunshine made the relatively easy walk that much more difficult. We had a fairly long walk from Likir to Yangthang, where our first homestay was located. The scenery was amazing and the walk was made that much more exciting by a couple of river crossings. The second river crossing involved balancing across a 10-inch log that marked the entrance to the home we were staying in. The 20 foot span over a fairly raging ice cold river required all my concentration, but for the family who lives there, it is their front walkway and even the kids scamper over it without a second thought. Later we were talking to the father and he was telling us how he walks, each day, down the valley to Saspol, a town on the highway, to work in the bank. It is three hours each way. I guess they get used to it early in life, though, as his young son walks two hours each way to school. Tough, and kind, people.

The homes are really interesting. Each one we stayed in had a big kitchen and eating area. Along each wall were many many silver and copper cups and pots. Some of the copper pots and bowls were huge and each obviously served a specific function. These large collections are a sign of wealth for Ladakhi families. There is also a large ornate stove on which the cooking is done. They use wood but also dried dung from yak and cows as fuel. Everywhere you go in Ladakh, you can see dung drying on walls and roofs. Dung from the fields is gathered in the summer and stored.

Following a night in this great guest house we set off for Ulle. Walking was initially a bit stiff, having not really hiked with the pack much for the last couple of years. Ulle is a very small village, only a few houses, higher up the valley and deeper into the mountains. This is a spot I was looking forward to visiting as it is well known for the population of snow leopards that inhabit the area.

The hike up to the village was not as grueling as I was expecting as much of it followed a new jeep path what is being put in. When we arrived in the village, a young guy came out to meet us and inform us that the owners of the home in which Doug and I would be staying was not home. He took us to his home for tea and, during that visit, we got to see his grandfather making curd using traditional methods. This involved pulling back and forth on a length of hide which was wrapped around the stick in the churning bowel. It was really interesting to see traditional ways still being used.

After about an hour rest, the young guy told us the owners of the house had arrived and went with us to show us where to go. I was a bit shocked when we pointed across the massive gorge that splits the village, to a small looking dwelling off in the distance. I was even more taking aback when he indicated the start of the trail, which really was nothing more than loose dirt and rock down the steep side of gorge.

We managed to scramble and stumble down the side until a more distinctive trail appeared. From there, it was down the several hundred feet to the river below, across a rickety bridge, then back up the same several hundred feet to the top of the other side. Of course, when we got there, the owners were no where to be seen and the house was all locked up. We kipped under a tree, in shade and discomfort, for a couple of hours until we decided to bail and try the guesthouse that the other two were staying at which, fortunately, was on the same side of gorge as we were now on. A half an hour march and some negotiating with the kids who lived in the house and were the only ones around and we had a place to stay. This was convenient as we were now all staying in the same place and we had arranged for a local guide to meet us there the next morning to go searching for snow leopards....

Bits and pieces

This is the view that I see each morning from the balcony of the Phanday Guest House. Lama Konchok Phanday, the owner of the guest house is a well-known buddhist monk in Leh. He became a monk at the age of eleven, against his family's wishes because he wanted to improve his reincarnation prospects. An interesting man who laughs all the time. The view is looking out across the Indus valley to the Hemis National Park and Stok Kangri, the largest of the Himalayas in this area.

Four of us have booked a 5 day trek to the Sham area. Here is another pic I nicked from the net. The Sham trek is considered an easy trek; many of the treks here involve going over passes of more than 5000m but not this one. Even though this is a short trek, it will be one of the great hikes of my life. I have been looking forward to treking since I got here. There are hundreds of miles of treks in the Ladakh area but the director of the Snow Leopard Conservatory picks Sham as his favourite. We will be doing it as a home-stay trek, staying in Ladakh homes. That should add an interesting dimension. We will stay in one village for two days because the local information is that this is a great place to see snow leopards. Fingers crossed, but I think we will be extremely lucky if that happens. We should, however, see yak and ibex.

Opening the unit

Here is another picture, stolen from the net, to give a better impression of Leh (this one is Shanti Stupa, the spot we walk up to in the morning for exercise). Downloading pictures from my camera has proven to be impossible, given the sketchy internet access and high probability of getting a bunch of viruses on my memory cards.

The project that the team was working on, opening the paediatric unit for disabled children at Sonam Norboo Memorial Hospital, has come the end with the grand ribbon cutting ceremony. The Minister of Health for Jammu Kashmir, as well as the Minister of Tourism were in attendance, as well as a great number of armed soldiers, given that this is Kasmir. The actual ceremony was pretty quick; unveil the plaque, have a look around, then a quick press conference. Still, the Minister did take a few minutes to thank the Canadian Team for their efforts.

The unit looks pretty great, compared to how it looked when we arrived. It is cleaned up, tidied, and painted. Quite a few kids have been through the unit already and many return for ongoing therapy with Dolma, Norboo, and Tsewang, now that the rest of the team has left. Other than Doug and I, the remaining team members flew out yesterday. Doug and I will continue to work this week, to complete the seating systems we were working on with the folks from REWA. The seats are looking awesome, if I do say so my self. Earlier this week, we had a cobbler sew up shoulder straps and on Friday, we will finish putting the whole thing together.

After that, it is off for some adventure, which I will report on later.....

Ross

Back to Leh

[pictures to follow, when there is decent internet]

During the time that we were in Kargil, things were developing at the Sonam Norboo Memorial Hospital paediatric rehab unit. Radio announcements had gone out, informing parents in Leh and the surrounding villages that there was a team from Canada at the hospital for the month of July. Some of the changes we had suggested before leaving for Kargil had been put in place, others were still waiting to be done.

Over the next few days, there was a trickle of kids into the unit. One of the children I saw had been followed by the team in previous years. She was now living at a boarding school just south of Leh. I was tasked with making a soft hand splint as she is hemiplegic so requires support to keep one of her hands open. It was a good exercise in designing and fabricating aids from available resources. I found some felt material in the market but this proved to be not stiff enough. I was able to scrounge up a piece of neoprene that did the trick but it would be better if we were able to make the splints from locally available materials, like soft leather, in the future.

Since things have been a little slow at the hospital, Doug, Maureen and I spent some time at REWA Society. REWA is an organization started by a German couple and now run by local Ladakhis. Their goal is to provide physical and occupational therapy services to children in and around Leh. They bring volunteer therapists from Europe for several months at a time, year round. They have set up a pretty well stocked rehab centre and also do trekking outreaches to remote villages. At the time we went, they had several physios on staff but no OT.

One of the tasks REWA required was fabrication of two seating systems for children with Cerebral Palsy. Maureen is an expert in seating and positioning, so she was able to lead us through assessing and measuring the children. We then drew up plans for the seats, hopefully improving on the style they currently use by making ours adjustable for growth. This coming week, I’ll need to find someone who can fabricate metal brackets and will work with the carpenter to actually build the seats. After that, I’ll be with Maureen again to cut and fit the foam that will give the seat the required fit and postural control. That should be a good learning experience.

Armin, one of the physios at REWA, also told us that a kid he has been working with needed some changes to her home environment. Sonam is a 16 year old girl with spina bifida, paralyzed from the waist down. She is a real bright spark, very personable and who loves school. The family bathroom at home is outside, down a very narrow alley at the side of the house. To use the bathroom, her mother has to carry her down this narrow gap. I seriously couldn’t walk down the alley without having to turn sideways so I have to idea how her mother was able to negotiate this path with Sonam on her back. After a look around, we suggested constructing a new, wheelchair accessible bathroom space in the front of the house. With the family, we decided on a spot next a small shed. Next week, we should begin construction. This should be another great learning experience as we will build a wall for the bathroom and roof using traditional Ladakhi materials and construction techniques, plus a few OT suggestions to make it accessible and practical.

I’ve also been able to get more familiar with Leh. It is a difficult town to get around as much of it is made up of a maze of narrow, walled pathways. I feel like I can get from one spot to another without too much difficulty, though it is not easy to know if you are ever going the most direct route from Point A to Point B. The market area is pretty interesting. Lot’s of small shops selling everything to the tourists. My favourite part are the old ladies who sell produce off the side walk along one of the stretches. Their fare changes as new local crops become available. Yesterday, I picked up some carrots and kohlrabi, to try and bump up the intake of veggies. I think it cost about $1.50 for a bag full.

I’ve also managed to get out to see a few of the other attractions. Shanti Stupa is a giant Buddhist monument, built by a Japanese group in the 1980’s. It makes for a good morning trek before breakfast and gives amazing views of the town and Indus Valley. Last weekend, we also toured the Leh Palace. It is in a bit of disrepair right now, but at one time was the tallest building in the world. It is in the process of being restored by a volunteer group. Above the palace is a monastery so we also made the trek up there.

Clinics in Sankoo and Panakar

Our first outreach was held at the hospital in Sankoo. Sankoo is about 20 000 people, but it really is a village as there is little infrastructure; just a single street with small open front stores and lots of fields, mostly barley. It is pretty easy to see the gender divisions; men run the businesses, which appear to mean a lot of sitting around, and women work in the fields and carry heavy loads of barley and hay in baskets on their backs.

The Sankoo Hospital, out of which our outreach was based, is fairly new. Dr. Khan had done a good job of getting the word out and organizing rides so many people from remoter areas could get their children to the clinic. Our outreaches were intended for disabled children but attracted a whole variety of ages and health concerns. Our team was divided into three areas. Kids would first be seen by developmental paediatrician Carey Matsuba and would then be sent to our special educator or the occupational/physical therapy team, or both, depending on their needs.

The role of the occupational therapy team was to assess any difficulties that someone might be having performing any range of daily activities. Occupational Therapy is concerned with improving a person’s participation in their daily activities. Since the person may be having difficulty because of physical, cognitive, or mental health reasons, occupational therapy looks at all of those possibilities. We saw lots of kids with cerebral palsy or other developmental concerns and so, interviewing the parents, worked with them to show them how to do stretches in order to prevent contractures or how to position to help with feeding.

A good example of the OT process in action was the young guy and his aunt who cared for him, who came in with the specific goal of improving his ability to use the toilet. It was helpful that they had that clear goal because it made it easy to work with them to figure out ways we could help. He was around twenty, with CP but could walk. He just couldn’t use the toilet. Toilets in India are the type you squat over, which is difficult or impossible to use if you have mobility issues. We were able to do a quick assessment of his physical capabilities, trial a couple of ideas, and sketch out an idea for a bench and handle to go over the pit toilet so he would be able to sit instead of squat. He and his aunt took the sketch off with them to find a carpenter to fabricate it. They were pretty pleased, as were we to have been able to help. However, it did illuminate one of the weaknesses of running a clinic in a hospital. The clinics were designed as a needs assessment, to determine the extent of need for services in the area. That aspect is important but as OTs, we would have been able to offer more if we had been working in his community and actually been able to look at his home environment. Hopefully, that is something that will be able to develop in the future for Kargil.

After that successful clinic, we moved up the valley to the village of Panakar. We had another, one-day clinic scheduled in this remote mountain village. This could be the most beautiful place I have been. The drive follows a rough road from Sankoo into the higher alpine, winding its way along a raging river. The size of everything here is on a huge scale. The volume and speed of the river is intimidating. The smaller mountains that rise up from the river are large by British Columbia standards. Panakar is near the end of this great valley. Just above the town, behind a ridge, sit Nun and Kun, twin summits, which at over 22 000 feet, are the highest summits in the area. When we were flying in from Delhi to Leh, we could only see two peaks jutting above the clouds, which we have since identified as Nun and Kun. They are really beautiful mountains, though it wasn’t until we were heading back to Kargil that we were lucky enough to get a cloudless view of them.

Panakar is also heavily reliant on agriculture, mostly grains and hearty vegetables that can ripen in the short growing season. One of the most interesting aspects of the village is the irrigation system. Channels are built higher up in the mountain streams to divert water. Most of the channels are trenched into the top of dykes and run at a constant grade across and down the hills and through out the town to irrigate all of the fields. There are miles and miles of channels and intricate systems of dams to divert the water from one field to another. When we arrived in the village, the crew of doctors and medical staff who are stationed there took us for a long walk around the village and the fields. It was great to be able to see so much of the area during such a short stay.

In the morning, I was able to scramble up a small hill and get some pictures of the town. It was really beautiful in the morning light. There is not much in the way of modern amenities, other than the cars and satellite dishes. Electricity is only available for a couple of hours in the evening. Things are changing though. Illustrating the convergence of old ways and new technology in this region, on the way up the valley we saw big crews of labourers using hoes and shovels to dig miles of trench by hand. I thought it might be another irrigation system but it turns out the trench is for fiber-optic cable which will eventually bring broadband right up the valley to Panakar.

During the drive back to Kargil, Dr. Khan took us on a bit of a detour to another very small village on the other side of the valley. One of the advantages of travelling with a person who knows the area so intimately is that you get to participate in random, off the beaten path, experiences. While building his home, one of the villagers had unearthed some ancient Buddhist or pre-Buddhist artifacts. We were able to visit these priceless stone carvings, which are propped up in his living room. Dr. Khan, whose father was a historian who wrote several books about the area, is concerned about what will become of these relics and is working to protect them.

By the time we arrived back in Kargil, things had changed. We first noticed something was different when we encountered a grid-locked traffic jam. Turns out the otherwise peaceful Islamic town had changed temporarily into something of a hot-bed of Islamic Fundamentalism. Many people had travelled to Kargil to hear a reputedly controversial Iranian cleric speak. Apparently, this cleric lives in one of the big cities in India and travels around now to deliver speeches and stir people up.

We managed to drive through the heavy traffic until we were blocked by a fist-raising, flag-waving throng. The rally was being held right on the streets in the middle of town so there was no moving further by car. Sitting in the car, you get a trapped feeling, and so we thought it would be better to keep moving away from the crowd. We asked Dr. Neufeld, who was with Doug, Carey, and I in one jeep, if there it was possible to walk from there to the guest house, via a different route. He said there was so we loaded up our own packs and the packs of the other team members and started off on foot. Loaded down with packs, instead of leading us away from the demonstration, Dr. Neufeld led us straight into the packed crowd. With the speakers revving up the crowd over the megaphone and hundreds of fists going up in the air in unison with hundreds of shouts, I was thinking, ‘This is not a good idea’. The whole atmosphere was electric, and I was hoping I didn’t accidentally step on any toes, literally, as we pushed through the crowd. As it was, under the weight of the big packs, we had to bump and squeeze to create a path to get through. Fortunately, we only had to dodge around the outside of the crowd and, as soon as we popped out the other side, we found ourselves in the same bustling, peaceful market area that we had driven through a few days before. Like most other places, the majority of Kargil residents are content to go about their lives peacefully and a minority of residents wants to create change by imposing on others their beliefs. This seems to be what the rally was all about; it seemed large and intimidating when we were stuck in the middle, but was only a small event in the larger scheme of the town.

After a restful night in a comfortable guest house, we spent the morning touring a special education classroom run by the Indian army. With its proximity to, especially Pakistan but also China, there is a great military presence through out the Kashmir-Ladakh region. To help keep the peace, there are several public relations-type initiatives managed by the army. Most kids are driven to school by the army, in buses and even in the backs of military transport trucks. The army also operates classes for special-needs kids on the bases in Kargil and Leh. The class was well equipped and even had a physical therapy space, though the physical therapist who was posted there now worked for the Kargil hospital.

After leaving the army base, we headed north out of Kargil along a road which Dr. Khan described as better than the route we had used to get there a few days before. He was correct. This route is primarily a military road (apparently, you need a pass to travel on it), which travels along the line of control with Pakistan, following mostly the Indus river. It is definitely one of the most spectacular drives you could ever take. Shortly after leaving Kargil, the road climbs up to a high pass at around 14 000 feet in a sea of rock and scree. It then drops down into an impossibly steep, narrow gully that makes its way down the side of a mountain, eventually arriving at the side of the milky Indus river.

The Indus is an interesting river, politically. Its head waters arise in China, it flows through India (and gives the country its name), then into Pakistan, where it is the primary source of water. As it flows along the route we drove, it cuts its way through a steep, high, and narrow gorge. It is an impossible place for a road and yet there is one there. In many sections, the rock is so steep that a road could not be graded so it is cut directly into the rock, creating sort of a three-sided tunnel, with millions of tons of mountain just a few feet above the roof of the car. Along the way, we passed several small villages on both sides of the river. Those on the opposite bank were accessed using rickety bridges or tiny cable-drawn baskets strung above the boiling river.

One of the difficulties with traveling a road intended for military use is the many military check points. Even though it would be impossible to enter or exit the gorge at any point between start and finish, we were required to stop at each one and have our papers and passports checked. At the first, I was singled out by the soldier, which was a bit scary. He wanted to know which one of us was ‘Ross Taylor’. I did a quick panicked scan of my brain, trying to recall if I had any outstanding warrant or the like. As it turns out, I share the same name with a famous cricket player and cricket was the single interest of the soldier (we asked about the World Cup but he didn’t know). At a further check point, we pulled out a camera to show pictures of us with the base commander and that seemed to be a bit of a hit also.

Overall, it was a great trip to Kargil (other than the illness), and after several more hours of driving, we arrived back in Leh, ready to begin clinics here.

Ups and Downs in Kargil

Last Thursday, six of us left Leh to make the 275km, 9-hour journey to Kargil. The journey takes a long time because the road, National Highway 1D, isn’t the freeway that the name suggests. It varies in quality, from a short section of two lane hard-top to dirt track. Mostly it is dirt track making for a bumpy and dusty ride, which you share with an endless stream of trucks, buses, cars, and motorcycles. The entire trip is a continuous series of near head-on collisions on the single lane track. To allow the large cargo and army trucks to pass, I thought we would pull over into the slightly wider areas at the edge of the road. Actually, we just went head-on, pulling slightly to the left at the last second, as the on-coming truck did the same, providing just enough room to squeeze by, even on the side of a gorge.

The mountains that the road is carved through are older, looser rock and the road has been dug through massive scree slopes that rise at an impossible angle, to unbelievable heights. On the far side, I could see sections where the loose slopes had slid like avalanches in the past, covering all the tracks in its path. This could be why the road is continually under repair and does not add to one’s peace of mind. All along the way, we came upon crews of road builders, fixing and building the road and supporting walls by hand, breaking rocks with hammers and chisels. Many of the road builders have children who spend their time at the job site and we even saw the odd baby lying at the side of the highway having a nap.

The entire trip was incredibly scenic. The highlight for me was the climb above the monastery of Lamayuru. A new section of the highway was closed for repair so we were routed up the old road; a steep section of 23 or so switchbacks that climbs from river-level, up the steep side of a mountain until it reaches the top, just a little higher than 14 000 feet. The drive up was made all the more death-defying by the trucks we had to pass on the narrow road. At some points, when the jeep edged past a truck, I could peer straight down to the river below, probably a drop of two or three thousand feet. When we stopped at the top, my face and hands were tingling again from the effects of the altitude. The views across the high plateau and mountain ranges were unbelievable.

Later, we stopped in a tiny town, at the only restaurant, for a rest and tea before continuing on to Kargil. Across the street, we noticed a Buddhist shrine. It was the site of a massive sculpture, carved into the side of a huge boulder. Just a random find that brings home how much there is to discover in this part of the world.

While the region we are working in is predominantly Buddhist, by the time you get to Kargil, you have moved into the Muslim areas of Northern India. Kargil is a small town sitting on the line of control between India and Pakistan, not the type of place where you will find lots of tourists. Sitting on the deck of our guest house we could look at the peak which formerly marked the border. In 1999, Kargil found itself at the centre of the ongoing disputes between India and Pakistan concerning Kasmir in what is known as the Kargil War. Parts of the town, including the hospital, which is just a stone's throw from our guest house, were shelled during the conflict and there were many civilain and military casualties.

When we arrived in Kargil, we met up with Dr. Akbar Khan, the E.N.T. surgeon who had arranged our visit and organized the village outreaches which we would begin the next day. Dr. Khan is a very interesting guy, who was always willing to talk to us about health care, politics, and culture. He described how, when growing up in a nearby village, the family had only one pair of pants between five people. They would have to hang them on the door in the winter so if someone needed to go out, the pants would be available. And, they were the rich family in the village. He wasn’t joking. He used to play in the snow for hours in the winter, without shoes on. Tough people. This is one of the coldest inhabited places on earth, with the temperature reaching -40C in the winter.

Dr. Khan organized a welcome meeting and dinner for us. He invited most of the local doctors and we had some interesting talks about Canada and India. We had an interesting conversation about how much this area has changed as a result of global warming. Over the past 20 years, the glaciers have receded significantly, which is concerning as this is the source of all the drinking water for this arid region. One doctor thought that there would not be people living in the area in another 20 years due to the lack of available water. They have also begun to see cases of malaria in the area, something which was previously unknown.

Shortly after this interesting meeting, I hit the ‘downs’ part of the ‘Ups and Downs of Kargil’. Some poor roadside decision caught up to me and I got as sick as I have ever been. Two solid days of hell, the first of which was spent up all night in the crappiest bathroom in the most dismal room in the guest house. The next morning, I was able to make the trip to the first village, Sankoo, hopped up on a cocktail of Gravol, Immodium, and Cipro. Still, the worst part wasn't so much the puking, it was having to eat, day after day, the same rice and dal that I had been throwing up.

But, after a day of recovery, I was ready to join the rest of the team at the outreach for disabled children.

To work.

So, there we were stranded at the Leh military airport. But, it was all good. We knew name of the doctor who was working with us at the Sonam Norboo Memorial Hospital (SNM). As has been the case with everyone we have met in India, people were very generous in helping us out by calling people they knew as well as the hospital in order to try and straighten things out. In the end, we hopped a cab to the hospital, where we wandered around until we managed to find someone who knew the where abouts of Dr. Iqbal. He is a great guy, very friendly and enthusiastic and did not seem phased that we had barged in on his seeing patients and he soon had a ride coming for us to take us to the guest house, where we meet up with the rest of the team.
We spent the first day in Leh, lying around acclimatizing. One of our team was having a hard time with the altitude and I was glad that I had taken Diamox. Even so, it is amazing how much it impacts you. My face and hands were constantly tingling and to climb the one flight of stairs made me feel like I had been downing two packs a day for 20-plus years. Next day was not much better, but we managed a walk of about a kilometer and a trip to the hospital by cab for our meeting with the Chief Medical Officer and other staff.
The hospital is an interesting place; busy and quirky. They wash down the floors with diesel, which is apparently pretty common in a lot of countries, but I found the fumes nauseating. The door bell to enter the offices of the CMO plays the ‘Wish you a merry Christmas’ jingle. I couldn’t figure out where the tune was coming from and, against the formality of the meeting, it was pretty strange. We toured the pediatric rehabilitation ward on which we will be working for most of the time we are here. It was partially completed, with bits of old equipment and stuff still in boxes. Job one: organizing and tidying. We were able to see some issues with the way the unit was designed and start to offer some suggestions, but Dolma, the physiotherapist who works on the unit, was already way ahead.
Dolma and the rehab assistant, Ditchun, are awesome. Very knowledgeable and passionate about what they do, and pragmatic about the system they work in. It has taken years to get the unit to the point where it is, and yet is still not open to patients. When something does move forward, how it moves seems to be on the opinion of someone in Delhi, rather than that of Dolma and Ditchen. Dolma doesn’t appear to back down too much to the authority of the doctors, speaking her mind, but always laughing and smiling. It will be a great opportunity to work with them and I am sure I’ll learn a lot from them.
The day following the meeting, some of the team headed back down to the hospital to help get the unit in order. When we got there, a lot of cleaning up had already taken place. The plan is that we will be doing mass assessments in a couple of weeks; a radio announcement has gone out throughout Ladakh to inform parents to bring their disabled children in three days a week for the remainder of the month. It was a productive day, and we managed to make lots of changes and negotiate solutions. Dr Iqbal had a big list of tasks made and while we were there, the changes were well underway.
Now, I am off to buy some clothes as all my stuff is dirty and we are heading on our first village outreach tomorrow. We will be gone for about a week, so reporting in may be difficult, but it should be awesome, and the primary reason I first wanted to come to Ladakh.

Poor Planning.

(Note: still not able to upload my on pics so these ones I 'borrowed' . Thanks to whom ever took them.)

With the rest of the team already up in Leh, only Doug and I were left in Delhi. We spent the day touring around the Old Delhi Market as well as the Digambar Jain Temple and Jama Masjid Mosque. Really cool places. We got to climb to the top of the minaret at the mosque, the walls of which are black from people rubbing against them of for 460 years. The heat was unbelievable and you are not allowed to wear shoes. Even walking on the strips of carpet that were laid down as a path across the scalding stones was barely tolerable. That sapped the last of my energy so it was back to the hotel to watch some world cup.

We had a wake up call for 3 am so that we could make sure we had plenty time to make the journey across the city and pass security for the flight to Leh at 6:00am. The cab ride was insane. Formula 1 all the way, tires squealing on the round-abouts. But, we got there early; 24 hours early. When we arrived at the airport, the army guy at the entrance pointed out that our flight was booked for the next day so we couldn’t enter the airport. Stupid. It is probably down to the lost Friday. However, we managed to find the Kingfisher Airlines ticket counter and change the tickets to that day, for a small fee, so off we went.

Flying from Delhi to Leh is probably the most amazing flight anywhere. On the left side of the airplane, you can look out over the Karakoram Range; on the other side, you are looking at the Great Himalaya Range. All 14 of the world’s mountains are somewhere in these mountains; truly the roof of the world. Not to mention, you are flying into the Indus River Valley, the river from which India takes its name.

One thing about flying into the roof of the world is that you can expect some turbulence. Take-off was HELL. However, it was nothing compared to the landing. The airport in Leh is a military base and so the runways are designed for military pilots, who are obviously crazy. Approach is basically a quick descent from 30000m into a gap between two mountains. It is very disconcerting to be looking out the window up at a mountain slope, may be 500 m away, and you are in a big, lumbering Air Bus jet. You are also keenly aware that, in addition to the mountain beside you, there are also mountains on the other side and worse, in front of you. Rather than hit the mountain in front, the pilot banks hard, more of a cork screw thing, into another gap with a rocky hill may be 200 m of the wing tip, then you are on the ground. Miraculous.

The altitude hit me as soon as I stepped of the plane. I could feel how shallow the air was and by the time I got into the terminal, I was feeling a bit anxious about the lack of air. You are not sure if it is getting more difficult to breath and, if it does, what could you do about it? The whole world around you has less air. Its intimidating. But not as intimidating as the situation we found ourselves in. Stuck at a military airport near the disputed Pakistan border with no contact, no ride, no phone (because we had arrived a day earlier than our previously arranged ride. All part of the poor planning, but that is just how we roll)…to be continued.

June 24 and 26. No June 25.

Okay, first attempt to complete today’s blog entry frustratingly failed at the upload stage. Attempt number two. This is a better Internet place than the first one but I’ll make sure from now on to back up to Word before posting….

Six of us left Vancouver on Thursday evening, flying through the night, over the arctic and crossing Greenland to Heathrow. We picked up the seventh member of the team, Janice at the airport in London and departed, four hours later for second flight through the night, over Europe, Turkey, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, landing early in the morning on Saturday in Delhi. It is strange to travel that far over two nights. It’s like Friday never existed but was replaced by a mass of Saturday. I don’t sleep on planes. I spent much of the time on the first leg doing squats and lunges at the back of the plane or peering out into the darkness on the second leg. I might have dozed a bit on the London-Delhi stretch, but mostly when we were holding in the line-up to take-off and there was little chance we’d crash. By the time I got to sleep last night, I’d been up for about 48hrs but felt pretty good, all things considered.

That time between sleeps spanned the trip to school for last day of classes, writing my final exam of the program, getting to the airport, the flights, passing through Indian customs, taking a wild ride in a cab from the airport to the Tibetan Colony in Delhi where we are staying, taking an even wilder auto rickshaw ride to the Red Fort in Old Delhi, running around snapping pictures in the 40C heat, auto rickshaw adventure back to the hotel, nice dinner, a relaxing read, and then early to bed. A productive day.


The Tibean Refugee Colony in which we are staying is a very interesting warren of little shops and homes with a labyrinth of little alleys connecting the 5 or 6 story buildings. It is quiet and peaceful, compared to the madness of the roads that surround it. The auto rickshaw rides, especially, give you the experience of the roads of Old Delhi, a chaotic, fluid madness of trucks, mopeds, and buses that you’d normally expect on a 3 lane divided highway, plus the bicycles, oxen-pulled carts, auto rickshaws, peddle rickshaws, pedestrians, and occasional elephant. The moped stunts especially seem absurdly ridiculously dangerous but, thanks to the every present safety device, the horn, things actually seem to move along amazingly well.



A few of us had taken the auto rickshaw to the Old Fort as most of the group were flying up to Leh today so wanted to get some sight-seeing in. The fort was very cool (interesting, not actually ‘cool’ at 40C). It is massive, and the architecture is spectacular, though I understand the Brits razed large parts to build their barracks. Any pictures that are included in this post, I stole from the net as I haven’t been able to hook my camera up yet, but hopefully those give you a visual.

The plan for the rest of the day is to auto rickshaw back to the Fort area where there is a giant market. We’ve been tasked with finding toys that we can use on the paediatric ward in Leh and that seems like an interesting place to do the shopping, better than the massive malls of New Delhi. After that, a little world cup which is on in the evening here v. the early morning back home. I think it is Germany v. England tonight. Tomorrow, we fly up to Leh. We are hoping to get seats on the left side of the plane so we might see K2. If not, I am sure it will all be good. See you in Leh.

Ross

-1 Day

Here is a little information about Leh, the town we will be based in for the placement.

Leh has for centuries been an important stopover on trade routes along the Indus Valley between Tibet to the east, Kashmir to the west and also between India and China. Now, the main overland approach to Ladakh is from the Kashmir valley via the 434-km. Srinagar-Leh road, which remains open for traffic from early June to November. The most dramatic part of this road journey is the ascent up the 3,505 m (11,500 ft.) high Zoji-la, the pass in the Great Himalayan Wall that serves as the gateway to Ladakh.

The town is still dominated by the now ruined Leh Palace, former home of the royal family of Ladakh, built by King Sengge Namgyal (1612-1642). 77.3 % of Leh’s population is Buddhist, 13.8 % Muslim, 8.2% Hindu and 0.8% others.

-2 Days

Things to do in Ladakh:

1. Stok Kangri, a 6120m non-technical scramble. Just a walk up, really. May be, depending on time, may be....

-3 Days

A little information about Ladakh:

Ladakh is a region of Jammu and Kashmir, the northernmost state of the Republic of India. It is the highest plateau of Kashmir, with much of it being over 3,000 m (9,800 ft) and spans the Himalayan and Karakoram mountain ranges and the upper Indus River valley. Ladakh is is one of the most sparsely populated regions in Kashmir, inhabited by people of Indo-Aryan and Tibetan descent. Ladakh borders Tibet to the east, the Lahaul and Spiti to the south, the Vale of Kashmir, Jammu and Baltiyul regions to the west, and the trans–Kunlun territory of East Turkistan to the far north. Ladakh is renowned for its remote mountain beauty and culture. It is sometimes called "Little Tibet" as it has been strongly influenced by Tibetan culture.