Western Ladakh/Kashmir Valley

On April 14th we drove to Tashi's village in western Ladakh. Actually, our group was split between his village of Chiktan and another one down the road called Pargu. Tashi's family is the only Buddhist family in either village. All the rest are Muslim, as is usual in the western district. Methods for farming and house styles are quite similar, but instead of chortens and prayer walls, and elderly folk quietly chanting mantras, there were muzzeins blasting prayers out of megaphones from mosques. We helped in the fields and I gave my host a hand in repairing part of a wall that had fallen. I'm pretty sure I ate a piece of sheep intestine at one point. Like angels of our dreaming, three young girls in our household in Pargu brought tea and biscuits into our room each morning before 7:00 and said "excuse me...tea." They put the saucers next to the three of our heads and we drank and ate from a still-horizontal position in sleeping bags, then went back to sleep sometimes until breakfast. The life! Plus our host gave me a pashmina hat he'd made after I helped him with work one day.

From Chiktan, we moved to the Mulbek block where SECMOL's former director Norbu is now the principle of a private school in his home village. After visiting the school and breaking into groups with the students there for games and conversation, we headed to a nunnery in nearby Wakkah for the night. In the morning we all went into Kargil, the western district's (Kargil district) main town and took a little walk around. Everyone except for Bennet and I returned to the nunnery in the late afternoon. The two of us waited until midnight to catch a car to Kashmir.

Occasionally we caught a few winks on the ride, but the full moon gave us glorious glimpses of Zoji-la, the main pass between Leh and Srinigar. Luckily for us the pass had opened just a week before, earlier than ever. Arriving in Srinigar at 5:15, we found our way to Dal Lake and hopped into a Shikara (long boat with canopy) for an early morning float out to the vegetable market in the lake. As we floated back, Abdul called my cell phone. VIS teacher Sam had met Abdul when he was in Srinigar back in January and recommended I get in touch with him. Abdul was a good resource and friend. Bennet and I stayed in the home of his sister and ate meals with the family, and Abdul showed us the sights of new and old Srinigar, including many mosques and the site where some believe Jesus was buried. We had lhasi and fresh bread at little shops on the street and popped into Abdul's houseboat for tea in the afternoons. Though Srinigar is a beautiful city, with its Mughal gardens, mosques, and many green parks, it is also a dirty and chaotic city. We were constantly approached by houseboat owners wanting us to stay in their guest houses, and Abdul pointed out the difference in color between the river and the water flowing into it from a canal connecting to Dal Lake. The darkness from the canal represented a lot of waste. Also, there is no proper sewage system in Srinigar, except in maybe one small area. Getting out of Srinigar into Pahalgam was quite a contrast, and let me see some of the Kashmir I had imagined--lush, green mountains covered in trees and laced with quiet streams. Here we lucked out on the sleeping quarters as well. We stayed with an amazing cook. Since Abdul's sister is equally amazing at the stove, we enjoyed kick-ass Kashmiri cuisine all week. Our host in Pahalgam as well as Abdul and his brother Rashid told us a lot about the time during the insurgency from 1989 to 1999, when the military held their guns at the hip with a finger on the trigger. Though the military is still everywhere (we were searched once crossing a bridge), their guns hang to their sides and they seem in good spirits, leaving us to marvel at their mustaches (for which they are paid by size, or so says Rashid). Abdul pointed out at least one building riddled with bullet holes from that unfortunate time in Kashmir. Abdul embraces the "cell phone" culture, new to Srinigar, with open arms. "Better cell phone culture than gun culture." He is optimistic about the future (even though there'd been a small bombing a week earlier), and is constantly smiling. This was not the general sense I got from Kashmiris, however. In my short time in the region, I picked up on a lingering sense of fear...and maybe anger, which a new optimism must muscle through. Like a shaft of light shining through a big cloud in the late afternoon, the Kashmiri smile may be emerging after a long period of turmoil. One of the biggest challenges for Kashmiris may be the corruption that persists in politics. Bennet and I also noticed that during several conversations we were given a similar shpiel about how "Kashmir is the most beautiful place in the world with the most friendly people and beautiful women" like some verbal business card. On the way back to Leh we saved some money by taking a two-day bus trip (10 hours each day), spending one night in Kargil. It was painful, and I thought my life was about to end when the bus driver momentarily lost control at Zoji-la.

Here, back in Leh and Phey, our students are wrapping up their exhibition work and will give presentations for the school and other visitors later this week. I've got to write evaluations of students and of the program, and maybe pick up a few things to bring home from Leh town, where I am currently sitting in the good old internet cafe for one of the last times. Well, time to meet Tashi across the street and get lunch! Adios amigos, and see you in a few weeks!