Pie? Why yes, thanks. My favorite flavor is humble.

Tamara is definitely in charge of this operation. My required participation seems to be to follow her suggestions with good cheer. The library at Domkhar officially (I suppose) seems to be her project undertaken through HEALTH, Inc. and Omprakash, a non-profit organization run by 20-somethings with good intentions.

Omprakash is the group that organized the shipping of several boxes of books to the school last year. When I arrived last October, it was to find these boxes infested with silverfish. While about 80% were useable, the boxes also contained about 20% inappropriate (for a school library) material. Among the books were items such as Christmas coloring books, activity books with the pages worked already, books with copyright dates in the 1960's, broken, damaged and smudgy books, as well as some that put forth the worst of western values. One of the teachers at the school described the scantily clothed Princess Jasmine kissing the cartoon Prince Ali from Disney's Aladdin as "disturbing." She actually clapped her hands to her eyes!

In this culture, women cover up from neck to ankle and shoulder to wrist on a daily basis, and all have difficulty dealing wtih tourists who dress as though think they are on the beach. Married people don't hold hands or otherwise display affection in public. Unmarried people wouldn't even consider it. People who work with the NGO's here know this. There is even a brochure that you are given at the airport when you arrive on the local cultural values and appropriate attire. Nonetheless, I am met with some defensiveness about why some of the donated books are in the "junk box." We'll see how this pans out.

One of our philosophical differences is that I think that to send some of this stuff is just culturally insensitive- even if some Ladakhi kids do have access to TV, and may have seen Disney cartoons someplace. The Ladakhi people aren't naive, and I'm sure they are capable of deciding which western imports are junk and which are not. I don't harbor any fantasies about preserving some sort of Shangri-la that is cut off from the modern world, but I sure hate to be a party to the proliferation of the nastier western stuff, like rampant consumerism.

Tamara has been coming here longer than I, and her kids at Siddhartha School don't seem to have a problem with Babysitters Club, and the like. So we compromise- some books go, some stay. Good-bye, "Don't Get Mad Get Even." Good-bye, "Goosebumps." Good-bye, half-naked Disney babes.

Comparative heat, shopping good, and shopping bad

There is another woman staying at the Oriental Guesthouse, Cateriona, who is from Edinburgh, but who works largely in Nepal. She is currently setting up the webpage for a woman's trekking company, and has helped to train employees. She has traveled extensively throughout Asia, and has a good sense of humor and perspective on "getting things done" in India. She is seeking relief in Ladakh from the oppressive heat in Gujarat. Unfortunately, it is massively hot here as well. It's been about 38 or 39C. I'm ok if I stay in one system (metric, preferably) but get confused when I try to convert from F to C. Those of you who are math stars, go for it. I'll just say that it is HOT and that I won't be needing my tights or polartec vest this trip. There is hardly any humidity in this mountain desert, which made for a nice change, even though it was hot.

Tamara and Cateriona went to a party at SECMOL to which I was invited third hand. I declined and went shopping instead. I went back to Himalayan Handicrafts to see Iqfal (who is still there and remembered me*) and his little brother, who is now 18. Iqfal is all of 27, but a real businessman. There was a funny Swiss couple already there when I entered. Marion is a school librarian (the woods are thick with them) and her husband Alec was enjoying bargaining for a lovely turquoise encrusted wall plaque and some jewelry. I sorted through some shawls, and kept an ear to the proceedings. I didn't want to choose sides, but it was hard not to smile at all of them. Iqfal finally sent his brother out for tea. I refused twice (as is polite) and then they offered me a coke. I accepted the offer of tea, since I wasn't going to get any shopping done until the fierce bargainer was finished. Their purchases were significantly more than I could afford, and the business was good for Iqfal- plus the show was entertaining. While they were "thinking things over" Iqfal showed me a cashmere shawl costing 8,000 rupees. It felt like butter, and could easily have passed through a small ring, but it was way out of my range, costing as much as my room for the whole month! It was nice to see and feel it, though.

When Marion and Alec left and it came to my turn to buy, we were all too worn out to bargain much. Iqfal asked what price Dechen told me, and I replied, "250?" We had a good laugh at the ridiculously low offer, and agreed that she probably had said 450, so we settled on that price. Dechen is one of Nawang and Chondol's daughters. She is married and works at Jet Airways. She brought me to Iqfal last trip, and told him to give me the Ladakhi price and not overcharge. I trust her, and in turn trust Iqfal. They packed my purchase up with lots of tape, and I set out to the next stop on my list.

I had worse luck at the Kashmiri tinsmith, who tried to give me the wrong change. I bought some cups and bowls of medium quality for whomever will come on this project in the future. I had enough to carry, so headed back to the guesthouse, where I had some soup and was in bed by 9pm.

* I quit being flattered that any Ladakhis remember me when I realized that I probably am one of the odder looking people they've seen. I'm quite tall- which means taller than may Ladakhi men, my hair is white, my eyes are green, and my fair skin gets red in sun or heat. A preschooler in the US once asked me if I was a muppet- but I think that's taking it a little far. But I can see how I would stand out in Ladakh.

The Language Issue - complex and fascinating

I have finally met Dr. Tamara Blesh, the "Traveling Librarian." She is a school media specialist with an interest in Ladakh- specifically the Siddhartha School. It is a Tibetan Buddhist school in Choskor, Stok. (This is the same Stok that has the Hemis National Park, home of the few remaining snow leopards in the world. It is a stunningly beautiful setting.) Tamara is on the school's Board of Directors, and her Rinpoche- Khen Rinpoche Tsetan- has a significant hand in running the school. We visited this school last year, and it is very nice- and has a huge, sunny, well-stocked library room. http://siddharthaschool.org/about/history.html

There is an ongoing and lively debate over whether any instruction at all should be in "mother-tongue"- that is, in Ladakhi. Ladakhi does not have a written tradition, although it is a seperate language from Tibetan. I think the argument is similar to the one about allowing Catalan to be used in schools near Barcelona. Ladakhi is what is spoken at home for most of these children. It is not just a dialect or accent issue. The languages are seperate and discrete. The Tibetans maintain that since the sacred scriptures are written in Tibetan, that language is essential for an education.

Add to the mix the universal feeling that English is very important, and fact that Urdu is the state language of J & K, while Hindi is the official language of India, and you have a proper mess. The youngest kids don' t know what is going on for quite a while- until they pick up enough something to at least follow instructions. It reminds me of going to Catholic School in the 1950's, where Church Latin was taught by rote to everyone from 1st grade on up, and students who were old enough took Latin in High School. Gabriele Reifenberg (more on this remarkable person later!) commented that the difference was that no one expected you to really be able to speak Latin- but she had never met Sacred Heart Academy's Sister Jean Dorothy! (Ubi o ubi est me sub ubi?)

Long story short, Tamara is interested in organizing school libraries here in Ladakh using pretty much a US model. The proposal for which she is seeking funding would compare school scores from a private (Siddartha) school, a state school with a school library, and a state school without a library. She is hoping to demonstrate that schools with decent school libraries perform better. There are many extraneous factors that will be difficult to either match or rule out , so she has many interesting years of work ahead of her.

Heather and I helped her by editing a proposal that was submitted to Room to Read and that she will submit elsewhere, should R to R not pan out. It is a little outside their regular process, but who knows, it may interest them. Cynthia Hunt really wants whatever grant that materializes to include a piece on mother tongue books as part of the library. She has written a number of heavily illustrated instructional books that have been translated into Ladakhi, and would like to see them get more widespread distribution. I've gotten the impression that Room to Read is more interested in native language books written by native language speakers, but since many Ladakhi presses (therefore authors) have been supressed, it may take a while to cultivate enough writers. I have looked (using all my mad library research skills) and haven't unearthed any Ladakhi books for children- written in Ladakhi.

Airport to airport, and the Oriental Guesthouse at last!

India is different. You know it immediately upon landing. Things are at once more relaxed and much more tightly wrapped than the US. There are rules that are not immediately apparent that may or may not apply to you as a foreigner. I find this stimulating and a little scary, but just like everyone in India, I am somehow managing to cope.

I love the bus ride from International Arrivals at the airport. It is hot, and everyone- with or without a uniform- checks your tickets and papers. The bus is narrow and fairly full of luggage and sleepy passengers. There is a young man who is an apparent NRI (non-resident Indian) who is more confused than I am this trip. He is worried that this bus won't go to the right terminal. It will.

The airport is much changed even from last year. The new construction seems to be largely completed. The World Cup (of Soccer) will be held in India in 2010, and they are working like crazy to make a good impression on the world. I hope I'll be able to spend a little time there instead of in the holding area for International Departures on the way back.

Still, there are wonderful signs dotted about, and odd workings in progress. One sign is over a very large hole. "Man at Work. Inconvenience is Regretted. Complaint is Futile." This is pretty much how bureaucracy works here, and the sooner you accept it, the better off you'll be. People apparently live all over the airport grounds -workers and their families, along with little shops to serve their needs, petrol stations for trucks, planes, and what ever else needs fuel. As strict as security for travelers is, there is chaos outside the terminal and it looks as though anyone could take up residence. There is even a small, ancient Hindu shrine out in the center, between some runways. It could be in use, or it could have been there first and the airport just arose around it.

Photos are strictly forbidden at the airport, so I can't document this with pictures; I'll have to figure out a way. One set of signs is my favorite. The set indicates no left turn and no right turn- which is reasonable because we are crossing an active runway in our little bus.

The flight over the Himalayan Mountains is fantastic. There aren't enough superlatives in my vocabulary to describe the vastness and majesty of these mountains that go on as far as the eye can see. It is a little hazy, and so difficult to see Nun and Kun, two of the highest peaks visible on our route. Tso Pangong is easy to see, though. It is the large lake that lies on the Indian/Tibetan border.

At the Leh airport, all arriving passengers have to fill out health forms, as well as the usual immigration forms. The H1N1 virus is everywhere. Baggage pick-up was easy, and instead of calling Dawa, I just took a cab. The driver was nice, and was surprised that I knew the way to the guesthouse. I was even able to stop him from taking a wrong turn. Cab fares are by destination, not by distance, so even if he'd turned right instead of left, the fare would still have been 170 rupees.

At the Oriental Guesthouse, I was greeted by Phuntsog, who looks just the same, and who acted as though I'd been gone a couple of days instead of nearly a year. "Mary-le! Your room is almost ready, not yet, not yet. Sit and have some tea!"

Stanzin was off from teaching that day and helped me get my bags to my room, A201. A201 is the former intern's office for HEALTH Inc., and is located right next to the beautiful family shrine on what Americans would consider the third floor. It is large, airy, and has a large wardrobe, although no attached toilet. The shared bath is more than adequate (as long as those I share with behave) and it'll be fine if I stay well. I am in Wing "A", which will save me a TON of money.

Everyone here is fine. Little Leydstone is just beautiful, and is walking. He has shoes that squeak like a squeaky toy when he walks. Phuntsog says they need the squeaking shoes because he tends to disappear. She said that she can be sitting with him, and that all of a sudden, he'll be gone. More evidence of his nascent lama-hood!

I spent the rest of the day, the next full day, and most of the following lying around getting acclimated, unpacking little by little, and repacking for the journey to Domkhar Dho. Drinking enough fluids is essential, so I tried to consume enough tea and water to float an armada. On my first trip to Ladakh, Nawang insisted that I try to drink seven liters of water and tea. Drinking that much would be impossible, but it is a good goal to shoot for. People who refuse to drink get altitude sickness, and I don't have time for it.

I have no appetite at all, but soup is offered most nights as part of the dinner, so that is what I have. It is hot, salty, and tasty, and helps with the hydration.

Saturday there is a general strike in Leh. Everything, including government offices, is closed. A taxi drive has been murdered, and the strike is in protest. Rumor has it that a Korean couple was in the cab at the time it was pulled over. They reported seeing a gun, but not identifiable faces of the assailants. They were detained a couple of days for further questioning, but they were not under suspicion. The murderer(s) are still at large. Everyone feels as though this was a targeted murder, and the rest of us feel pretty safe. There is no where to go after dark anyway, so there aren't many saftey precautions to take.