India 13 July – 28 July 2005

 

On 13 July I landed in Delhi airport.  I’d pretty much lost my sense of time and location having been stuck on a jumbo jet for about 8 hours.  But I guess it was evening time when I landed.  I remember pushing my trolley of luggage (a rucksack and a holdall) when a young Indian man grasped the trolley.  I was reluctant to let go, and I held on until I reached the coach that would take the team to Ashok Country Resort.  He wailed for “one pound”.  I found it hard to look at him.  After about 20 minutes in India I had encountered poverty and the harsh caste system which limits peoples ambitions and hopes for a better livelihood.

 

My stay at the Country Resort was very brief.  I enjoyed a cool shower in what I was told was non-drinking water.  It made me think about how privileged we are in UK to have clean drinking water piped directly to us, and put into perspective trivial complaints about taste and chemicals in our tap water.

 

I then went on an internal flight north to the region of Ladakh where the project work was going to take place.  The flight over the Himalayas was breathtaking.  I was lucky enough to have a window seat and saw unparalleled views of natural beauty.  I think I’m safe to say that I’d never seen anything like it, and probably won’t ever again.

 

By the time the team and I landed at Leh airport, fatigue had well and truly set in.  We were met upon arrival by a group of Indian men who were to act as out guides, chefs, drivers and guardian angels really.  I for one grew to love them and got to know them individually on personal levels.  It’s amazing to think that we, the English students got on so well with the natives, overcoming barriers of language, race and creed - which are sadly used so often as excuses to breed hatred and discrimination.

 

The first couple of days were spent acclimatising to the rarefied air conditions and high altitude of about 12 000ft above sea level.  I slept a lot in my tent during this period, surrounded by the staggering scenery.  At times it felt very surreal.  We based ourselves at the Choglamsar river camp, which was basically an area of lush grass by a stream.  During my stay at the river camp, the team and I embarked on a trip to Shey Palace, which was built in 1645 as a summer residence for the kings of Ladakh. 

 

We also visited the regional capital of Leh, a lively place full of highly decorated mud brick stalls selling anything and everything from hand-knitted hats to silver jewellery.  It was quite like a town centre in England, only a lot dustier, with masses of people very keen to sell you whatever they could at every corner and the constant hum of persistently honking horns of vehicles.  It was quite bewildering to be at the centre of a market town in the valleys of the Himalayas.  I was never even aware they existed.

 

On Day 4 we began the trek itself up the mountains towards the village of Rumbak where the project work was to take place.  But first the team and I visited the local school of Stok.  I was moved by the joyful and loving nature of the young children, despite their clothes being little more than rags.  I remember a number of them clinging to me as we all sang songs and followed their actions.  We exchanged high fives and the joy and gladness was reflected in everyone’s smiling faces.  I found it hard leaving them.  It was a very special experience.

 

We followed a winding, well-worn mud track through a valley, climbing gradually for an hour past fields of barley and a few apricot orchards, until we reached a large and untouched meadow, which was to act as the base camp for that evening.  I didn’t find this early stage of the trek too strenuous, but I knew that the difficulties lied ahead…

 

Fuelled with a bowl of early-morning porridge, the tents were dismantled and the bags packed and loaded on horseback for the second stage of the trek.  The sun shone brilliantly though the heat was not too intense as the team and I battled onward and upward at a steady pace, against a slight breeze and alongside a gushing river flowing in the opposite direction to our progress.  About three hours into the day’s efforts we rested for lunch at a pleasant spot by the river, surrounded by willow that acted as an effective shelter from the sun’s augmenting intensity.  After lunch the team and I faced a steeper incline.  For the first time in the trek a team member fell ill, complaining of severe headaches and nausea – symptoms of altitude sickness.  I felt worried about his welfare and also about his mindset, incase he felt he was letting the team down somewhat by slowing things up.  However, this was definitely not the case.  Through our optimism and determination we all pulled together up the mountainside, encouraging one another through gentle conversation.

 

Days 6 and 7 were largely spent acclimatising to the new heights of 14 000ft.  I was also taken on a gentle walk (by Himalayan standards) up a relatively small yet steep mountainside which overlooked our new base camp.  I remember the food that day wasn’t particularly appetising.  It was lentils with fried aubergines with rock-solid dried apricots for dessert, but I ate every scrap.  I’d figured that the Himalayas isn’t a place to be fussy in.  We were all told to see the food as fuel and ourselves as machines.  The night was very chilly and I began to appreciate more and more the fact that I’d followed the kit list verbatim, especially where thermal clothing was concerned.

 

The following morning I woke up at 6:00 am with a lovely bout of the runs. I enjoyed a frosty wash in the cold air and feasted on yet another gorgeous bowl of porridge. The team seemed somewhat sombre yet perhaps composed for the five-hour trek that lay ahead. As the Indian sun rose so too did our spirits, and by 7:15am we had departed our base camp one last time, destined for Rumbak Village.

 

Illness soon plagued the team yet again however, with at least six members feeling the effects of high altitude and low air pressure early on in the gruelling trek. We all battled on, encouraged by Geordie chants which maintained optimism.

 

One team member reached the top of the mountain (16 000ft) on horseback in somewhat elegant style after having sustained a leg injury the night before.  This outlined our determination and an attitude summarised in ‘no going back now.’

 

The descent, however, was surprisingly not as straightforward as the ascent: Another victim of the effects of high altitude fronted the descent down the mountainside and into Rumbak village on horseback and bravely battled through his illness, while a medical kit came tumbling down the barren and steep terrain, only to hit a horse head-on which galloped uncontrollably into the main fold of the team. In desperation I dived into the rocks of the mountain, picking up a leg injury. But it could have been a whole lot worse. Whimsical moans of bad headaches resonated across the hillside and hysteria increased with even our characteristically composed team leader somewhat shaken.

 

I thought to myself about why people were doing Fulcrum – something to set you apart on a redbrick university application? Something to tell friends about? And what about those we were so close to meeting with the village insight – fighting tooth and nail to provide their children with life’s most basic necessities? It’s a funny old world, I thought to myself. But undoubtedly some team members did have it bad. I just felt as though some complaints were a little out of key.

 

However, once we overcame the steep mountainside and marched on to Rumbak Village itself our aims and reasons for doing Fulcrum definitely surfaced. A tour of the remote village (home to only 9 families) was a real eye-opener into extreme poverty and the need for active change.

 

I was particularly saddened by the sacrilegious scrawls on the doors of the village Buddhist Temple, deeming it to be ‘Rock Temple’ with the names of heavy music groups inscribed upon it, the work of some deranged hippy trekkers apparently.

 

Project work began the very next day.  Two teams were formulated, one which concentrated on the repainting of the monastery and the other focussing on the building of the polytunnel.  I was involved in the polytunnel project, but before the work could begin, an old wall had to be teared down in the grounds of where the polytunel was to be built.  I found this both physically and mentally exhausting, as work was carried out in the blistering heat of the morning and mid-afternoon.  Sweat dripped from my head onto my long clothing, worn to prevent sunburn.  However, in the midst of the strain of pick-axing walls down and then carrying slabs of bone-dry mud away from the site, I felt a great sense of well-being, direction and purpose.  The demolition of the walls and levelling of the ground lasted well into Day 2 of the project work, after which the rather more intricate work began on erecting the metal framework of the polytunnel. 

 

The sense of achievement not only I but the whole team felt after having completed the work come the afternoon of Day 5 of the project itself was incredible.  It was moving to see the delight on the faces of the native villagers of Rumbak and we were given prayer scarves in gratitude from the villagers.  We were also invited for a cup of traditional yet somewhat bitter and salty tea, which didn’t glide down my throat too easily, but was very much appreciated, though not so much refreshing.

 

I really feel as though I’ve given the people of Rumbak something beneficial as I know the polytunnel will be a great help to their livelihood through the growing of crops for their self-sufficiency.  Work on the monastery was also brilliant as it has given the villagers a much more respectable place of worship and prayer. 

 

My experiences in India are sure to stay with me forever.  I thank you very much for sponsoring me and helping this all to happen, not just for me but for the villagers of Rumbak.  It is very much appreciated.