Changes
“I have no regrets, tomorrow is just another day. Snow on the mountains, a rustle of leaves in
the woods, a pot of tea on the boil and verses from the Heart Sutra. What more can a silly old man want? Until the rhododendrons bloom again, you will
find me, none the wiser, plodding that old path, which disappears into the far
bamboo grove.”
– Guru T Ladakhi, Monk on a Hill.
I begin this blog with a discovery. Admittedly, not a ground breaking one, but
perhaps surprising! You may remember me
talking a while ago about the ingredients that go to make Momos. One ingredient could not be identified – a
small, white crystal-like substance.
Well, while making Momos with Sunita, she had the original packet. On looking, I discover that the mystery
ingredient is monosodium glutamate (MSG)!
It was a bit of a shock. This
traditional, incredibly common dish has a ‘fake’ ingredient. Of course, I asked the question “What
happened before MSG?” and was told that people made Momos without it. Next time, we are going to try Momos without
it to see if there is a real difference or not.
The level of ginger and seasoning may need upping a little I guess.
The first two weeks of December flew past. On the rare occasion I saw any Facebook posts
Christmas was clearly well underway back home.
Except for a couple of invitations to sing carols closer to Christmas
Day itself, there has been no mention of the season. There are one or two stars hanging on the
front porches of houses, but really, that is all. My hope is to be in the village for Christmas
and then travel up, through Nepal, to Kathmandu for New Year. Rather than fly I am hoping to take a bus or
minivan (for anything between 8 and 15 hours).
Not only is it cheaper, but I also hope to see a little more of the
country that way. A small sticking point
at the moment is that all my connecting travel puts me in the border town in
time for an overnight drive – not going to see an awful lot that way!! It will all come out in the wash I am sure.
Talking of wash. You
will be pleased to hear that my hand washing is coming on in leaps and
bounds. After almost three months of
attempting to improve my skills, I think the clothes are rinsed much more
thoroughly and I now use a laundry soap on the more stubborn stains like turmeric. One down side of hand washing appears to be
the number of split seams and the wearing away of material. Or perhaps it is just because I scrub too
hard. Whichever, I am now getting very
used to wearing each item of clothing until it is almost capable of walking off
on its own. I have also had to get the
needle and thread out to sew up a few holes.
As for me, myself, the bucket washes continue despite the cooler
temperatures – single digits of late.
Staying in a small town outside Darjeeling the other day (whilst
visiting a school for training), I found myself attempting to wash with tepid
water in 1 degree. The biggest goose
bumps I have ever seen lead me to conclude that washing could wait – face and
neck it was. That was the morning after
the night I slept in my woolly hat!
(Chilly nights and cool views)
The school training sessions have gone incredibly well, and
staff have reacted very positively to the idea of making lessons more
creative. Many of their own ideas are
the basis of lessons I myself, or colleagues have done, and with a little
bolstering would make really strong lessons for children here. All the schools brought something new to the
table in terms of what they thought the hurdles might be or something they were
doing as a school. Rainbow school for
instance, situated at the top of a peak above Kalimpong has the most
interactive, colourful and creative classroom environment. Something that has to be seen to be
believed. A precarious 45-minute journey
along a rocky and landslide ridden track the town of approx. 9-10,000 people is
a draw for tourists because of the huge monastery there and incredible walking
and views. The school has 112 students.
"The philosophy of the school room in one generation will be the philosophy of government in the next." - Abraham Lincoln
I had completed training at ten of the 13 schools in this
area by the beginning of December.
Eighty-seven teachers. It had
been an exciting and interesting challenge for me to counter the envisaged
problems staff had, when thinking about creative planning, with relevant and
realistic solutions. It was a privilege
to be invited to share good practice with the different teaching teams and to
engage in their ideas and discussions. Despite
the differences in culture, beliefs, syllabus and teaching method, the training
was also a revelation in how similar teachers and children are the world
over. There have been many moments of
laughter as shared stories or experiences are recognised and appreciated by
those that have been through the same thing in their own classroom or
school. The plan is for me to return to
each of the schools in the New Year to help embed the training and work with
staff in their own environment to make the work even more relevant. It is something I am really looking forward
to.
Nat left Barranumba for the final time on 8th
December. The day before was a fraught
day with three of the same family (Head of Nat’s school, Alpha) being struck
down with different problems, including a dislocated shoulder, but eventually
we were all able to enjoy making Momos and drinking beer and rum as a ‘Bon
Voyage’ to Nat. The previous week we had
been taken to the river by one friend, Premika, and had stayed over at a small
guesthouse right on the banks. The river
was quite shallow, but water came rushing through the wide valley, bouncing
through the rocks and crevices on its way.
Simple, yet incredible comfortable, the one-night stay included a
bonfire and the chance to barbeque my own chicken for dinner. It was just the ticket after a fairly hectic
week supervising exams and typing out exam papers.
(River separating West Bengal and Sikkim, where foreigners require a permit to travel)
(Homestay for the night)
(Pedlos and Washing)
(even had a children's farm with ducks and geese)
(Bridge between West Bengal and Sikkim - I wasn't supposed to cross it!)
(Cold water, just the thing for hot feet)
(River selfie)
(Bonfire)
(Barbequing chicken)
Leaving Nat on the Saturday morning, I walked the top road
from her village to mine for the first time.
Yet again, the views were astounding.
A beautiful bright morning, the hot sun and the, almost, silence of life
high in these foothills made for a wonderful walk. I know you have seen more pictures of
Kanchenjunga than you want, but from another perspective her majesty and
authority over this part of the Himalayas reverberate in silence around the
hills and villages.
(Serious gardening)
(Well tended)
As I got closer to Kashyem, I began meeting people I knew on
the road. Most were off to cut
vegetation for livestock back home. As I
entered the top of the village (Upper Kashyem – you may remember from the blog
I am from the UK), one of my colleagues was in his garden. Invited in for a cup of tea we chatted about
the success of the exams, the weather and his health as he has recently been
diagnosed with gall stones. This
colleague is one of the ones I went carolling with at Diwali and the memories
of that night still evoke great amusement.
After bidding farewell, a little further down the road I bumped into
another colleague. Tshering is the
26-year old Computer teacher at New Rise and started teaching this academic
year. I hadn’t known where he lived but
was invited in for tea. He lives a fair
hike up the hill from my homestay and it was lovely to meet some of his
family. Having recently done the
training at New Rise it was great to hear Tshering’s ideas for creative
computing lessons. With only four PCs it
is impossible to work practically a lot of the time and so thinking outside the
box for theory lessons is vital. After
another half hour chat I finally made my way down through the village to home –
just in time for lunch!
By the 14th December, I had completed all the
training and had spent far too many hours bouncing around in a little white car. It was all worth it though. Over 100 teachers trained and quite a bit of
enthusiasm for getting stuck in. Our
Annual Day at New Rise was fast approaching and there was the beginning of a
realisation that I was soon to be leaving Kashyem. On the night of the 14th December,
I made a salad to go with dinner and also made ‘Cooker top Crumble’. Something I had never made before the recipe
came from another volunteer and it went down a treat. I’ll make it at home too as it was quite
tasty!
(Playground at RIBS, for 250+ children)
(Class 5 making their own 'tense table' after four intense lessons teaching things even new to me!)
(Playground at Magno Vale school - for 300+ children)
(Darjeeling - city on a ridge, across the valley. Taken from the road between Kalimpong and Darjeeling)
(Kanchenjunga from the road from Kalimpong to Darjeeling)
(Panorama from the road between Kashyem and Kalimpong)
(My welcome from the students and staff of the furthest school in one day. Three hours to get there, three and a half to get back.)
On the 15th December, two of the other teachers
and I hiked to Sillery. You may remember
from an earlier blog, a failed attempt on behalf of Nat and I to find the fort
at Sillery. Not so on this
occasion. We took the direct route up
the side of the mountain, rather than around it. Sure enough, not far from where we had gone
‘wrong’ previously, the old ruins of a fort stood. It was shrouded in forest and was wildly
overgrown, but there were clearly different buildings, old walls and even
raised rampart like parts. The Lepcha
people use part of the fort as a place to pray and worship. Banana leaves with rice, the Tortola flower,
diya candles and fruit can be clearly found placed upon a simple altar. Part of the highest structure is used as
another place to pray and, sure enough, here we found the Nepali prayer flags
and the piles of stones left in prayer.
A little further down the mountain there was a big stone dip in the
forest. Reputed to be the Queen’s bath,
it is a fair walk from the main fort. Apparently, the last Queen of the fort escaped to Barranumba, but was
either killed by her enemies or disappeared in the forest – depending on which
version of the story you believe. So, I made it to the fort, proving the old saying - if
at first you don’t succeed, try and try again! Suman (from Diwali) and Tshering (Computer
teacher) both talked about their ideas for lesson plans when they return to
school in February and it was quite something as we discussed different
practical ways in which they could engage children in their relevant
subjects, whilst admiring the ever changing views.
(Prayer stones left by the Lepcha people)
(part of the Fort)
(Queen's bathing chamber)
(The other side of the mountain - you can just see the sport's ground we had Inter-school sport's day on)
(Offerings from the Lepcha people)
(View back down the hillside towards Kashyem - Kanchenchunga in the background)
(Shrine to the spring that 'springs' from here!)
(Time for a sneaky beer in one of the road side 'hideouts' built just for the occasion!)
I have to admire both teachers, along with Satish Sir. The barriers they encounter, when trying to turn their ideas into a reality for helping children, are large and frustrating. They come in every form and it would be so easy to give up. But, they don’t and, having already worked with one teacher on ideas for lessons for the New Year, so another has asked too. The subjects may not be my speciality – Computing? / Biology? – but, actually, once we sit down and talk about things, it becomes very apparent that ideas from interactive lessons across any age, with a little tweaking, become relevant for other ages too. Where I may not have content knowledge, I can offer practical advice and ideas which they can change and spruce up appropriately in relation to content. Behaviour Management was also
flagged as an issue and as both teachers teach children in secondary classes I found it quite difficult to come up with ideas that are relevant here. Look out secondary colleagues, there may be a message waiting for you very soon!
The trek was a great way to spend my only day off that week. The following day (Sunday) I was
involved in organising a Headteachers meeting for the 13 Mondo School Headteachers. Discussing many things to do with the coming
year, the success of the training and some of the problems the different Heads
experience individually as well as a group, the meeting was a chance to engage
in conversation about how I can help support and develop solutions to real,
‘front line’ problems for schools in this area.
It was agreed at the meeting that I would spend March and April
returning to every school for three days to help embed the training on engaging
lessons and also deliver training on behaviour management techniques. It will be an incredible opportunity to
develop working relationships, as well as growing friendships, amongst this
great team of people.
(How many staff can you get in a Nisson Micra - or similar? The answer it would appear is 6)
The evening of that same Sunday was my first night carol
singing in Nepali. I joined some of the
Christian villagers walking around various houses singing and dancing to Nepali
carols. Well, I say singing…actually, I
danced mostly and left the singing to the professionals. It was great fun. My dancing is now famous around the village
following Dusshera and Diwali – not that I really feel it deserves the positive
reaction it seems to get. Ending with a
short fellowship and dinner in the final house, we were out until about 10.30pm
that first evening. It had to have been
my latest night for weeks.
(My first sighting of a Christmas tree - 16th December.)
On the penultimate day of school, I rehearsed with the
Nursery, KG and Year 1 children who would be singing and retelling the story of
the Gingerbread Man at Annual day on the final day. The children had done so well, it was great
to see them finally all confidently repeating the common phrases from the
stories and being more confident with some of the songs. Whilst we were rehearsing, many staff and
children were also building a make shift stage.
Using bamboo to build a frame from which curtains could be hung, the
same, multi-purpose wood, was used to front the stage, which was then filled
with mud. Well, having no such thing as
stage blocks, nature, again, provided the answer.
(Nursery, Kindergarten and Class 1)
(Stage construction)
(Bamboo - versatility personified)
(Yes, I am stood on a table, but not the chair on the table. Health and Safety)
At lunchtime, I left school to attend a family celebration
called ‘Pitra’. Santa, the co-ordinator
of Mondo Challenge Kalimpong, had invited me.
I know one of his sisters, a brother (who is the Head of one of the
schools), a nephew (his assistant) and a niece (teacher at New Rise). It was a real honour to be invited and I had
been looking forward to it. The family
are from the Kirati ‘tribe’, who believe that their ancestors are Gods and
Goddesses. They believe that everything
they now have has come from their ancestors, it is because of them they and all
they have exists. Pitra is the time of
year, where the family calls upon the ancestors to worship them. Each family member will conduct the ceremony
in their house. The Rai family (Santa’s
family) will repeat this almost 30 times in different homes. The family have two months in which to
complete the ceremonies. The main focus
of the morning is the building of a fire into which three large, similar sized
stones are placed. Upon these must
balance each and every vessel that will be used for cooking. The three stones represent
1 1)
Protecting the family and house from bad spirits
2 2)
Blessing the family and house with wealth and
health
3 3)
Protecting the family and house from natural
calamities
The ancestors are called from the 3 stones and from all the
main parts of the house, starting with the main pillar of the house, from which
the rest extends. Then moving on to the
door frames and so on outwards. Once the
ancestors have been called, then they are offered the food and drink that has
been prepared. Once this has been done,
all the men from the family sit around the fire from which all food has been
produced. Only sisters who are
post-menopausal are allowed to join the men in this part of the celebration,
although all the food that is to be eaten has been produced by the same fire
and offered to the ancestors. Tongba
(the drink made from fermented millet) is the centre piece of liquid
refreshment. It is specially made with
medicinal herbs and is fermented a particular way to make it tastier and
stronger. Each guest is welcomed with a
glass of tongba, a plate of ginger and chickpea curry. The afternoon passed gradually and the tongba
began to take effect. It was a very
mellow evening, time spent chatting about families in general and sharing some
of our favourite stories regarding our own families. It also involved quite a lot of ‘shop’
talk. It was a night to remember and
experience of another celebration observed by a small section of the community
in this area.
(The men in the room with the fire in far corner cooking the food. Two large flask jars with herbs fermenting the Tongba)
(Arrival offering - chick pea curry, Tongba and ginger)
Annual Day was something to behold. Almost cancelled, because it had not stopped
raining since the early hours of the morning, the venue was switched to the
community hall, and despite a very delayed start most families had someone in
attendance. It did mean all the hard
work to erect the stage back on the school ground had been in vain.
Annual Day was a joy.
OK, it was a joy, after I had
given my welcome speech. Asked to
welcome everyone to Annual Day, I was requested to sum up my time in
Kashyem. I was challenged to do it in
Nepali. Which I did! My entire five-minute speech spoken in
Nepali. My audience were practically
silent – kids included – as I, fairly confidently, made my way through the
script. I had written the original in
English and a friend had translated it.
I had then practised with Atit at home, Rufus, the Head Boy at school
and Suman Sir. I obviously can’t
evaluate the success of my speech, but if all the comments are to be believed,
I was very well understood by all! Once
that was out of the way, I could relax.
The children performed brilliantly and presenting the awards to the
children from Nursery to Class 5 was an enormous honour and good fun. Presenting the Class 10 students with their
end of year certificates and silk scarves was not so easy. As with many young people, leaving school
(the academic year here is Feb-Dec) was a huge occasion for them. Tears in the eyes of a few, it was an
emotional moment, being asked to be so involved in something so memorable. The young people of Class 10 will sit their
national examinations in March and then decide what to study in Class 11, the
academic year for which runs from June to May.
These courses run at separate schools and colleges in Pedong and
Kalimpong, where the children will live in local homestays, probably for the
whole of each term, returning home only during the holidays. What an incredible end to my first 3.5 months here. Obviously, a bitter sweet
moment as I would be departing Kashyem the following week and would not be
returning for some time. Even then, I would
not be returning for long. This village,
this community, that has so captured my heart would not be home for much
longer. Deep breath Mr Adams, deep
breath.
(Delivering my speech in Nepali)
(Loved every minute of it.)
(All very jealous of my beard - Suman Sir, Zenus Sir, Satish Sir and Khaliun Sir - Tshering is taking the photograph
Luckily, that evening I was off to another carol singing
evening. Time to forget the imminent departure and get lost in the music. I should tell you that no alcohol is involved in the celebrations - I know what you are thinking! Anyway, the villagers sing carols at
different houses for the 8 nights that precede Christmas Eve. Another opportunity to chat with Tshering Sir
about possible ideas for the teaching of computing in 2019 as his family were
hosting the final worship and dinner, the evening was as good as the first, even though I was feeling the tiredness from Annual Day creep over me.
The following morning, I was off. Off to Sikkim. After three pretty intense weeks involving
training, travel, traditions and treks, I was ready for a break. At 8.00am, Reshav, Atit and I made our way to
Rangpo in Sikkim. Rangpo is one of the
border towns between West Bengal and Sikkim.
Sikkim is the northern most Indian state between Nepal and Bhutan. It borders Tibet (and therefore China) and
requires foreigners to have a permit to travel within the state. Whether this is because of its closeness to
China or because it is a self-sufficient, organic and appealing state (some
where people may like to stay) I am not sure. Luckily, Rangpo, just 16 km from Kashyem is a
border town that issues such permits and, after a fairly painless process that
involves a stamp in my passport, Atit, Reshav and I walked around the small
town, the boys had their haircut, we watched part of a T-20 cricket match and then sat
by the river. Rangpo is hot! It is way down in the valley (almost at sea
level I believe) and is so much warmer than life on the mountainside. It was wonderful to be in a t-shirt and be
warm. As we sat by the river, Reshav’s
new puppy played happily with the stones as Reshav paddled. After about thirty minutes, Atit shouted
‘let’s go’ with a surprising level of alarm.
I sat up on the rock I was lying on to see the water level of the river
rising at an alarming rate. Suddenly
conscious of my laptop, my passport wallet and rucksack sitting on a small rock
beside me, and watching Reshav’s shoes floating away, I shouted to Atit, who helped
me grab them all. Reshav rescued his
shoes and I grabbed his rucksack and the puppy who was struggling to get up a
bit of the bank. Within less than two
minutes we had scrambled a few feet to a safe a distance, whilst the rock that
had been home to my laptop, disappeared under six inches of rushing water. The huge rock I had been sitting on looked
more like an iceberg, with the vast majority of it under the bubbling
torrent. I congratulated Atit on being
so quick to notice. He said, “I just saw
the muddy water.” He went on to tell me
that there is a dam upriver and at certain times they allow an amount of water
to be let through. I wondered if it had
anything to do with all the rain we’d had 36 hours earlier but, to be honest,
was just more relieved that all my belongings were safely back on my back! I have a new appreciation for the term ‘flash
flood’ – we seriously had so little time to move!
(New arrivals. The puppy on the right belongs to Amit (lives in homestay next door) and the one on the left Reshav)
(Bruno in Reshav's rucksack on our way to Rangpo)
(Rapidly rising river water)
(T-20 Cricket)
Quite the experience!
But, nothing compared to two teenagers eating Domino’s pizza! Yes, that was the reason we had all left home
and arrived in Rangpo together. The town
has a Domino’s Pizza outlet and when I asked the boys what they would like to
do as a thank you for all their help over the past three months, “Eat pizza”
was the answer. From the pizza place,
Atit and Reshav would make their way back to their own homes for the long
school holiday. It was a hard
goodbye. More like younger brothers than
students, the boys had helped me enormously to settle so well into village life,
with all the customs and etiquette that life entails. Of course, the boys didn’t seem so perturbed
by it all, but as my jeep pulled out of Rangpo, headed for Gangtok, I realised
it would be quite some time before I saw them again.
Gangtok is the capital city of Sikkim. It is about the same size as Darjeeling I am
given to understand. It is in the East
region of Sikkim. As a foreigner, I am
not allowed much further north than this, well not on my own. A second permit is necessary to travel to
northern Sikkim, where the mountains begin to grow and morph even further into
the majestic Himalayas.
Arriving in Gangtok I had mixed feelings. School had finished, Annual Day had been a
blast, I had said cheerio to the boys, as well as staff and I wasn’t really up
for an adventure. I was a little bit
low. But…it turns out that, sometimes,
having low expectations means the experience exceeds anything you could have
imagined! My hotel (at £15 a night) had
a view of Kanchenjunga – just. There was
a shower. There was a hot water
heater. There was a radiator in the
bedroom. Without question, those four
things (the hot water and shower above all) were worth the rate. Forget the well-appointed room, the comfy
bed, the linen, the TV, the cable…you get the picture. Having lived frugally for over 5 weeks
(spending no more than £2 a week over my accommodation rate of £20 a week),
with limited bucket washes in single figure temperatures, I really couldn’t
believe my luck at the treasure I appeared to have uncovered at the Nettle and
Fern Hotel, Gangtok, Sikkim. That first shower
was heaven.
After my shower, I mooched around the local streets,
navigating the geography and trying to ascertain where the centre might
be. I got waylaid with sunset just to
the left of Kanchenjunga. People smiled,
I smiled. I found the bookshop mentioned
in the Lonely Planet, a place I would return to later during my stay to tap
away at the keys of my laptop to create this latest entry!
An early night and a good sleep meant an early start. Wondering where to start, I happened to
mention part of my plans to a member of staff.
“Oh” he said “I am going to Enchey Gompa. Why don’t you come with me?” Enchey Gompa is a small, but appealing monastery
situated on the northern outskirts of the city.
Lonely Planet calls it Gangtok’s ‘raison d’etre’. Dawa (the member of staff) was off to pray at
the monastery. Thinking that meant it
was just a 5-minute walk away, I agreed.
Now, I am definitely trying to be a bit braver and try new things. Some, such as paragliding, despite numerous
opportunities, I have been unable to commit to.
Others, such as eating some quite unusual foods or becoming more
ignorant of the sheer drops faced on a daily journey, I am managing. I know I used to drive a moped. But, I don’t think I ever really got used to
it. So, as we left the hotel and Dawa
directed me to what I guess might be called a scrambling bike, despite a tummy
flip, I thought … ‘what the heck!?’ At 27,
that was his age, he really didn’t need to know my concerns…the bumpy roads,
the non-existent roads even, what my insurance covered…or didn’t, the
terrifying possibility of being hospitalised…you get the picture. Luckily, there was a second helmet – the old
fashioned, strap under the chin type – I could have been Biggles, if I just had
goggles. On I climbed and off we
set. Actually, the village of Enchey
Gompa was a very pleasant ride out of the city, uphill all the way, to a point
a few kilometres away. Nestled between
trees, with a beautiful view of Kanchenjunga, stood the old monastery. Dawa graciously said I could just follow him
in his prayers and ask questions and take photographs as and when. Familiar with parts of the routine he would
follow, from my time in Mongolia, it was great to be guided through something
that was so personal to someone – although he did answer his phone halfway
through turning the prayer barrels! I
digress. After we had circled the
monastery three times and subsequently turned all the prayer barrels three
times (three simply because it is Dawa’s lucky number), we removed our shoes
and went into the main part of the monastery.
Dawa lifted his hands above his head, put them in the prayer position
and then fell to his knees and placed his hands on the floor. He repeated this, three times, to each of the
three Buddha statues sitting at the back of the elaborately decorated room we
were in. Surrounded by monk’s chairs and
discarded robes, candles, holy water vessels, donations, flowers and many other
shiny things, I followed quietly catching sight of beautiful sugar paste
artwork, food donations, carvings and bronzes. Following this, we made our way to a smaller
prayer rooms where we donated money and where a monk carried out a blessing as
all the people gathered bowed their heads.
The monk rang a little bell as he prayed. The room had about 7 of us in and it was
pretty cramped. I stood quietly at the
back. Once the prayer had finished the
monk blessed the people and threw holy water over their heads. He beckoned me out of my corner and did the
same with me. It filled with me with a great
sense of wellbeing, being picked out like that.
As I was halfway across the courtyard after putting my shoes back on,
the monk came jogging over. He wanted to
know where I was from, what I was doing in Gangtok and was very enthusiastic
with his English. He laughed as I
thanked him in Nepali and off he went back to the prayer room.
(The 'Mean Machine')
At the Reception desk earlier that morning, I had also
mentioned Tashi viewpoint as another place I wanted to get to. Tashi viewpoint is a good place for views of
Mt Kanchenjunga – OK, I give you permission to look away when you scroll down
to the photos! – Dawa offered to take me as he still had an hour before
work. So, back on the ‘mean machine’ and
off we went. I think I counted six times
that he shouted, “Are you scared?” over his shoulder. I am not sure what prompted the
question. I actually felt pretty safe
and the views were incredible. Tashi viewpoint was a great place to see what
has now become my motivation and inspiration for many things. Mt Kanchenjunga in her majestic glory. As there was someone else to take a photo, I
insisted that I get a picture of me too – I apologise for the ‘you’ve been
Tangoed’ look, it was pretty much the first outing of my 'new' Mountain Warehouse coat.
(Oh dear...words fail me)
(Tourist!)
(Breakfast with a view - and no tourist in the way!)
(View from Enchey Gompa)
Returning to the hotel on the bike, I then set off on foot
to find the old royal monastery of Gangtok.
Tsuklakhang has an impressive centrepiece temple with a pair of huge
dragons flanking the main images. The
whole compound is calm and peaceful despite the very young monks that attend the school and live in the monastic quarters that surround the centre. Behind the accommodation is a football pitch
and on again towards the Chogyal Palace.
Many of the young monks could be heard shouting “Good Morning” and then
hiding as I turned around. They only
came out when I asked them their name in Nepali – which they found very
amusing.
(View from Tsuklakhang)
(Above the Institute of Tibetology)
I wasn’t doing to badly for time at all. I had lunch and began the fairly long walk to
the Institute of Tibetology. On the way,
I passed the United Colours of Benetton – I know, right?! Well, they had a sign outside ‘4 for the
price of 2’. Loathed to shop as I am, I
went in to look for warm clothes for Nepal.
Two pairs of trousers, a shirt and a long sleeved t-shirt later, I continued my
walk, finally finding, almost completely independently, the Tibetology Institute. The Institute’s 1958 core building
feels like a Tibetan fantasy place. But, inside the
main hall houses a priceless and well explained collection of iconography and
artefacts from typical Tibetan/Buddhism roots.
There are cloth paintings and coins, amulets and human thigh-bone
trumpets. The beautiful ‘thangkas’
(cloth paintings) show the 12 stages of the Buddha’s journey to enlightenment
and the explanations (in English) to accompany all the artefacts were really useful.
Outside the institute, a sign caught my eye, so I followed
it. The road led up, fairly steeply, to
a huge shrine, prayer barrels on each side, forming a square base to the main
structure. I walked around turning the
prayer barrels, praying for good luck for myself for later that day. It was time to move! The luck I was asking for was for a job interview I was having
via Facetime early in the evening. An
interview back in the UK!?
It has been 3.5 years since I worked in the UK, but I feel
the time is right to move back. I know I
have achieved a wealth of experience both professionally and personally from my time away. My life is forever changed by the experiences
and people of Mongolia and India. It is
time to return home, polish up my knowledge of UK teaching and challenge myself
to new horizons. What exactly they are
right now, I am not certain, but teaching in KS2 (the interview) would put the past 4 years (as
it will be) to very good use. One thing
I am very keen on is exploring opportunities as to how to continue supporting
and developing the work I have been doing here in India. I have ideas and am a little impatient to get
on with them. In the meantime, I want to
ensure I leave here having done as much as is possible for each of the schools
and what they consider their individual priorities. I will have all summer to start making plans for the future.
My second full day in Gangtok, I set off for the jeep stand
to get a jeep to take me to Rumtek and the ancient monastic complex that exists
there. I was too early! So, a quick taxi ride out, up to the top of
another hill, took me to Hanuman Tok. A
shrine dedicated to Hanuman, it was built by the army and is looked after and
maintained by the army. A different unit
to the one that built it. The monument
is simple, yet striking, and the colours are beautiful within the two shrine
buildings themselves. An army soldier
was sitting in one of the rooms. Like
the monk the day before, he called me over to be blessed. The difference happened to be I was the only
person in a much larger room. No squeeze
today. In broken English the soldier
told me where I could find the history to the shrine. I found it, but alas, it was all in Hindi or
Nepali – a total mystery to me. I did
recognise on some of the pictures, part of the story of Diwali, but there were
other aspects to Hanuman that I did not recognise. However, I did recognise the view – I bet you
can’t guess! Haha, yes, had it not been
cloudy, I would have had another fabulous view of Mt Kanchenjunga. On this occasion, the cloud saved you from
another of those perfect views.
I returned to the jeep stand and boarded a jeep to
Rumtek. 80 rupees was going to get me
all the way there – just over 1.5 hours along more bumpy, unmade roads which,
according to Lonely Planet, are being updated.
Whatever the state of the roads, the jeeps are an ideal way to
travel. Yes, they can be busy and
bouncy, but they are perfect for the conditions and, for the most part, the
drivers are so used to handling them and the routes they drive that it feels
very safe – despite the certain death drops to the side of the roads in parts. Rumtek faces Gangtok distantly across a plunging green
valley.
The extensive complex is
one of Tibetan Buddhism’s most venerable institutions as the home-in-exile of the
Kagyu (Black Hat) sect. Essentially a
self-contained village, the complex has a colourful main prayer hall that was
built (1961-66) to replace the Tsurphu Monastery which was destroyed during the
Chinese Cultural Revolution. The
centrepiece of the prayer hall is a giant yellow throne awaiting the
long-overdue coronation of the Kagya spiritual leader, the (disputed) 17th
Karmapa. This dispute may also may play another part in the reason foreigners require a permit and to show their passport to
the soldiers and police that guard Sikkim's borders. I sometimes find it quite difficult to fully
understand the small bits of English that are present to explain things –
especially as they do not always correspond to the guide book. I guess, this is when being part of a tour
would be more beneficial – although those are few and far between in these
parts - and I am never really ever told the same thing by more than one person - everything varies just ever so slightly. I am learning to live with it.
Bumping my way back to Gangtok was a little more difficult
than the way there as I was in a minivan.
Not only had I not worked out how to get a shared jeep back, there
didn’t appear to be any! A very helpful
police/army man pointed me in the direction of a shared taxi, I got in and off I
went. People got in, people got out,
never more than four passengers at a time.
About half way, I had to get out and jump into a different taxi to take
the rest of the way to Gangtok. All
worth it, when you think I paid no more than 80p to get all the way back
again. That evening, I enjoyed my final
dinner in Gangtok and would recommend it to anyone who might find themselves
travelling in this area. In fact,
explore more! It is a bit of a shame I
didn’t have more time to visit other parts of Sikkim. If I am able I will come again, but I think I
have read somewhere that, as a foreigner, I am only allowed one permit every
six months.
(Sadly, my photos - none of Kanchenjunga - do not appear to want to transfer from my phone to my blog. I will continue trying to update them.)
Getting back to the village was reassuring and I spent the
Sunday at church with some of the teachers and students from school and then
singing carols with them. On Christmas Eve, I took the Thapa family to lunch at a
restaurant in Kalimpong. I suppose it
was a little like my Christmas lunch this year, although it was, of course,
curry. Delicious curry! It was great to spend some quality time before I left them. At home there is always something to do and it is impossible to get the whole family together at one time.
(The family - Amit, Sunita, Neha, Me, Babul, SM, Santos and Bobby - Ama stayed at home)
(Babul and I - I had just reminded him I beat him at our first game of chess!)
Christmas Day, was perhaps the latest I have slept in a long
time. After finally getting up, I went back to the church I had first attended with Zenus
and it was lovely to see so many of the congregation up and dancing or singing
as a way of celebrating Christmas. There
is not such a focus on presents here. We sang Happy Birthday and cut a cake to
mark the birth that the day is all about and the whole event is more of what I think plays second fiddle to Santa Claus at home - sharing food, conversation and time with
others. By the time I got home it was getting dark. A few more things shoved into my rucksack and the suitcase I was leaving in Kalimpong and I was ready for the start of my three-day journey to Kathmandu.
(Second sighting of a Christmas tree this year - in church on Christmas Day)
And that is where this blog finishes. I am currently sat, on Boxing Day, in a coffee shop in Kalimpong. My shared jeep ticket is booked for the 0700 jeep to Kakkaravitta, a land border town between India and Nepal, tomorrow morning. Beyond boarding the jeep little is known, until I arrive in Kathmandu, planned for Friday 28th December.
As the sun sets, I am left reflecting on the most incredible village life, a life I have thoroughly enjoyed for the past 3 months. The friends I have made and the awesome way in which I have been treated. If there was one place I had to choose to spend time away from family and friends back home, let it always be here - Kashyem. We are so lucky with our 'first world lives' and I know that includes me. If anything had gone wrong, if I had ever really been stuck, I could have used a telephone and found a way out. If things had become too tough, I could have taken a break and paid to stay in a hotel. Perhaps, subconsciously, those safety nets, meant that I kicked back and threw myself into the experience even more. But, I am not so sure. On more than one occasion, it was not my Halifax account, my friends or family back home or the telephone, I turned to. It was someone here, someone locally who had opened their arms and pulled me fully into their life. My gratitude to the people of Kashyem will be something I treasure forever. I am so excited to return. In a country famed for it's last minute organisation, people have made plans with me. A family lunch, a wedding invitation, a weekend by the river...so much to look forward to. But for now, it is 'Adieu'. A new adventure awaits, one that will take me to my fifth new country of the year - Nepal. It is from there, the next blog should be published. Until then, I bid you a fond farewell. Thank you for reading, thank you for the messages of support and to wish me a Merry Christmas. I hope you all had a festive time.
(The only way to get your cow to the bull - or vice versa - when you live up a mountain. They were very kind and caring to the animal, who needed frequent breaks, as we all do climbing the stairs around here)
(small museum of incredible facts about Kalimpong area in the basement of the homestay of a friend. You may remember Roshni from a charity night right back in October.)
With best wishes for a Happy New Year, Mark x
Awesome!
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