Wednesday, January 3, 2024

On Friendship

 On Friendship

Ajit Chaudhuri – 20th December 2023

 

An early disclosure for those who, from the title of this note, are expecting a comparative analysis of hook-up sites on the dark web (or something similar); this is on a topic I am perhaps even less qualified to expound upon – a mountaineering expedition to the 5,287-meter Friendship Peak in Himachal Pradesh.


So, what was an obese 60-year-old doing on the said expedition?


A question no doubt on the minds of the other participants when we met in Solang Nallah a few miles north of Manali – they were a group of supremely fit athletes who had trained for months and were primed to take on the peak, and my grey hair and girth marked me apart. A question that my spouse had raised earlier, along with a suggestion that I look at myself in a mirror, ignored because, as the saying goes, ‘no man is a hero to his wife and his butler’. A question that the expedition leader had also raised when I enlisted, dealt with by (falsely) claiming that I was as fit as when I had done the Everest Base Camp (EBC) with him in 2021.


A valid question, may I add, given that I was subsequently at the tail by miles every day and did not even attempt the last section of the climb; given the difficulties I had in getting out of a tent and into the cold night air to you-know-what, which prostrate problems frequently required me to do; and several similar issues. But – I had recently retired (and was at a loose end); I had not indulged in some days walking with a little weight on my back and soft ground under my feet since 2021; this was the only show in town by the people that I trusted, B&C; and I was keen to make the shift from trekking to mountaineering before I turned seriously geriatric. And, sometimes, ‘a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do’.


I’m delighted that I did what I did, despite the above. Why?


The first reason is Mount Friendship itself – not high but requiring technical knowledge and equipment – so an ideal peak to make the transition from trekking to mountaineering. Opinions varied from the climb being a breeze, especially with sufficient time spent training on the equipment beforehand, to being super-dangerous, with high winds, many crevasses, and the ever-present possibility of avalanches. Our own expedition got caught in a 2-day blizzard on our way up, resulting in us having to turn around from camp 1 on the first day and return to the road head, and then do the 2-day walk up to camp 2 in one day, spending both days walking with snow pelting into our faces (a schedule is appended). It also resulted in the summit camp (camp 3) being uninhabitable because of heavy snow and us therefore having to begin the summit attempt from camp 2. The summit climb was subsequently deemed too dangerous, and the group returned from the about 180 meters below it. But I have attempted a mountain (not yet sure if that gives me the right to describe myself as a ‘mountaineer’ at cocktail parties) and can now show off to my trekking friends (who know the difference between trekking and mountaineering) on how to tie crampons or walk with snow boots.




The second is the group that I was with, intimidating at first sight because they looked like participants at an ironman competition but in time taking on distinct hues and personalities that I was both comfortable with and liked very much. There was a young man who had no issues in attempting to climb a mountain but had difficulty talking to girls; a national-level kho-kho player who was on his second attempt on the mountain, the first too had been unsuccessful, who philosophically suggested that ‘if a mountain does not want you on it, the mountain will not have you on it’; a recently hitched software engineer who did not know whether he would have a job when he came down the mountain because his office had undergone a regime change; a PhD candidate who had decided to pursue pure science after his engineering degree instead of raking in the bucks writing code; a retired army man who ran a printing business that required his presence 24/7 but still took time out for long distance cycling; a corporate hotshot who ran marathons on the side, who was here with his family to give his son an experience of a lifetime; a marathoner businessman on his first foray into high altitude, looking to challenge himself by dealing with the unexpected, et al (I could go on, but this note would turn into a ramayana).


There were two others who, like me, stood out at first sight – the only lady in the group, who had been to EBC and who was here with her husband and son, and her 12-year-old son, with whom I had something in common despite us being significant outliers at the respective ends of the group’s age distribution curve. He knew football, and I mean really knew it – players, clubs, matches, tactics (he knew, for example, who Riquelme was) – and we spent a lot of time discussing the game.


As a group, some things stood out. One was the support for each other, along with the conducive atmosphere and positivity in common areas such as the mess tent. Another was the way they handled the disappointment of not achieving the objective of the expedition – there was not one dissenting voice at the announcement that it would be too dangerous (helped by the fact that ongoing avalanches in the upper reaches were visible to the eye during an acclimatization walk), and the group’s joy at reaching where they reached in the extreme conditions seemed no less than what it would have been on summitting. For me, they were a wonderful representation of youth in a forward looking, meritocratic India, and very different from the semi-educated angry losers or rich entitled f---s that one usually comes across.



The third reason is the opportunity to be with Boots and Crampons, and expedition leader Col. Romil, once again. Nothing threw the organizers (including Giri, Ravi, and team) off – the weather and the resultant changes in schedule, the significant distance between the group’s head and the tail every day in a tough terrain, the fact that the mule party carrying our stuff was having difficulty negotiating the route, inter alia – it was just another day at the office for them, and the participants could concentrate on the walking and climbing and not on food (which was fantastic), stay and logistical arrangements. And, as always, time with Col. Romil had me asking questions of my value system and assumptions about life.


I would like to conclude with some thoughts on success and failure. Are they Boolean binaries, one or the other, or are there shades of grey with some success in failure and vice versa? In this expedition, I was perhaps the only one who met his primary objective, that of returning alive. And yet, there was a sense of serious achievement in the group, that we had followed the day and reached for the sun. Because, as they say, ‘life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing’.

 

Schedule

Date

Activity

13 Oct

Travel from Delhi to Manali on an overnight HP Roadways bus

14 Oct

Reach Manali, travel Manali to Solang Nallah

Acclimatization walk to Solang village (alone)

Night in Hotel Iceland

15 Oct

Acclimatization walk with Sweta, Pulkit and Malik along the River Beas

Acclimatization walk with expedition members to local temple

Equipment check, night in Hotel Iceland

16 Oct

Solang Nallah to Dhundi (road head for expedition)

Dhundi to Camp 1 (Baharthach), return to Dhundi due to heavy snowfall

Night in camp at Dhundi

17 Oct

Dhundi to Camp 2 (Lady’s Leg), night in Lady’s Leg

18 Oct

Practise with snow boots, garters, crampons

Acclimatization walk to summit base camp and back to Lady’s Leg

Night in Lady’s Leg

19 Oct

Acclimatization walk to ridge over Beaskund Lake

20 Oct

0030 hours – group begins walk to Mt. Friendship (I did not join)

Night in Lady’s Leg

21 Oct

Lady’s Leg to Dhundi – onwards to Manali by vehicle

Team dinner at Corner House Café

Night in Manali – end of expedition

22 Oct

Personal trip: Manali to Keylong by bus

Walk to Gumling

Night Halt in Hotel Chandrabhaga (Keylong)

23 Oct

Walk around Keylong, visit to Roerich Gallery and local Gompa. Night in Keylong

24 Oct

Keylong – Manali – Delhi by bus

25 Oct

Arrive in Delhi

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, July 1, 2022

The Dutch Disease


THE DUTCH DISEASE

Ajit Chaudhuri – June 2022

Safety is not a metric, it is a value!

 

Joining a large, old, well-established and highly successful organization, as I did this March, is not easy – especially when it is towards the fag end of one’s career. The bureaucracy is mind-boggling in its complexity, and simple tasks require oodles of patience and perseverance, a very thick skin, and a sense of humor. There is little separation of work from personal life in a town in which one is recognized as an officer of the organization wherever one goes, and therefore little scope for, forget about cocaine-inspired episodes with underage prostitutes or drunken bar fights with the local peasantry, even stuff like running a traffic light or making a reference to the virtue of someone’s female relatives in conversation. And as for the observation of hierarchies in every act and conversation, including referring to others in terms indicating either knighthood or ownership of a brothel, depending upon gender, the less said the better.


And yet, I feel like a fish in water!


A reason for this is the opportunity to roam around in small and remote mining locations scattered across the Eastern Ghats, and to meet the communities that reside alongside and are affected by its operations. This note is about one such location – the iron ore mines at Noamundi and Katamati on the Jharkhand – Odisha border.


Noamundi is a beautiful 130 km drive from Jamshedpur, with an excellent road that meanders its way through forests, meadows, rice fields, the occasional village haat with fresh vegetables and locally brewed hooch on prominent display, and small towns such as Chaibasa and Jagannathpur. Much of it is a company township, with residential areas, a club, offices, a shopping area, workshops and all, and then there is the mine itself – a high grade iron ore mine that feeds steel plants in India and abroad.


The area was verdant forest until, about a century ago, the soil was found to contain iron ore in abundant quantities. And then, the laws of Mammon took over. The tribal communities that occupied the land were shunted out, the forest was cut down, and open cast mining began. Mining involves – taking over a large tract of land; ridding it of its occupants and stripping it of its forest cover; drilling into the land; blasting the soil; organizing the soil pile and loading it onto a dumper; transporting the soil/ore to a plant where it is sorted and cleaned; and then transporting to a loading station where it is put onto railway wagons or trucks that move it to a port or to a steel plant. It’s not pretty – it involves displacing communities, cutting trees, raping the earth, running trucks day and night to move material (and dealing with the offshoots of this, including increased liquor consumption, more accidents, noise pollution, a rise in prostitution), et al.



And yet, what are the alternatives? Economic growth is recognized as the best way out of poverty – 10% growth in gross domestic product per capita every year results in average income doubling in 7 years, and 14% in 5, and average income doubling for a large country is huge even if the likes of Adani and Ambani disproportionately benefit. Such a pace of growth requires abundant quantities of raw materials, minerals and metals, energy, and so on, without the option of colonialism to obtain them that was available to countries that industrialized earlier, who were able to pass on the negative externalities of high growth on to others. And, in the process, some people get screwed – it is not possible to make steel without mining (which involves all that is described in the previous paragraph) and without running a blast furnace (air pollution plus generous contributions to global warming), it is not possible to run chemical plants without polluting, or to produce power without displacing – not in the quantities that a 10% plus per capita growth rate requires. And, no matter how much the world progresses, irrespective of new laws on land acquisition that favor land losers, business responsibility standards that recognize environmental and social factors, and woke corporate bosses (mostly from the IT sector, which does little direct displacing, extracting or polluting) spouting claims about people being stakeholders, a community continues to be in deep shit if anything worth mining is found in its vicinity, anywhere in the world. Dutch disease, the term for the negative consequences of natural resource discovery for an area and its resident communities, is an inevitable outcome.

 


The mining area stands in sharp contrast to the verdant forest that is behind it. I visited with my colleagues Tulsidas Ganvir, the boss of our work in Noamundi, and Mohit Gandhi, a young management trainee attached to us for a short duration.

Some outcomes, though, are not unmitigated disasters. One originated from a decision to train women to drive dumper trucks in the mine, the 100-tonners pictured below that transport the ore to the plant. The first batch of 22 were difficult to find, and required much outreach within the communities in the vicinity of the mine. But they have proved such a success (apparently they actually observe safety rules, respect speed limits, AND do not constantly require smoking breaks) that their numbers are being increased, and this time around a mere announcement of vacancies got applicants. And now, many girls who had dropped out of education are returning to school to complete class 10, the minimum educational qualification for a driver, with the ambition of getting jobs as dumper drivers. The law of unintended consequences playing itself out to advantage!

 


My colleagues and I posing with a 100-tonner Komatsu in the mine.


All very nice, some of you may be wondering, but surely time hangs a little heavily in the place. And, for its residents, I have no doubt that it does! But, as a short term visitor, I managed to keep myself reasonably occupied. On one occasion, I managed to wangle an invite to dinner at a home in one of the local villages, and sat on a charpoy in the open, took in the evening air and the surrounding jungle, imbibed homemade hooch aka haandiya and followed it up with home-cooked desi chicken, rice and chutney – no restaurant could compare. On another, I was asked to attend a function to inaugurate a local community hall – I demurred on the assumption that it would be full of politicos and their speeches and was told, don’t worry, it is being organized by the local adivasi association (and not the company) and that therefore there will be less talk and more festivity. The picture below is evidence that I was persuaded to change my mind.





Thursday, December 23, 2021

A Fortnight to Remember

 

A FORTNIGHT TO REMEMBER

Ajit Chaudhuri

 

Some fashionable things are worth doing!


I was not keen on the Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek for a long time – stories in the trekking community suggested that it was fancy (rest-houses at every location, internet mostly available), crowded (as indicated by that iconic photograph of the traffic jam on Mt. Everest) and expensive, and that one’s precious time and money would be better expended along other routes on which phones didn’t work. The feeling changed in a conversation with Kathmandu-based friends, who said that Nepal had three treks seriously worth doing; the Manaslu area in Upper Gorkha because it was beautiful, the Makalu area between Everest and Kanchenjunga because it was untouched, and the EBC because ‘some things just have to be done’.


I got an opportunity to ‘do what has to be done’ this year – I had just returned from a trek whose co-leader mentioned that his next one was to EBC. The thought of doing this with someone who had earlier led a successful summit of Mt. Everest was too tempting to resist and, notwithstanding my advanced age and lack of preparation (other than the afore-mentioned trek), time and money, I promptly signed on.


There is a plethora of information on the EBC trek! This note is about what is not mentioned in the brochures and internet writeups, which I discovered the hard way.


One, the trek is long – you will be walking for 11 continuous days, away from basic comforts, with just high mountains around you, with the same people for company.


Two, it is high, with four distinct sections – below 3,000 m; between 3 and 4,000 m, when altitude starts becoming a factor; between 4 and 4,900 m, where the greenery disappears; and 5,000 m plus, where a good night’s sleep is difficult; and therefore, how the group acclimatizes is important. We took it easy going up, taking our time along the lower sections, spending a day at the same place once we crossed 4,000 m (and using that day to climb to 5,000 m – see the itinerary appended below), reaching places and then, no matter how tired we were, climbing another 2-300 m before coming down to our night spot. And we zipped on the return – three long and tiring days that extended into nights, a time that my knees still remember.


And three, it is hard, with steep up-hills and down-hills, and long stretches of moraine on the route into (and out of) Gorakshep along the Khumbu glacier.


Offsetting these factors were, one, the group that I went with; a mix of adventurous youngsters, middle-aged professionals, and (last but not least) nice-looking women, and led by an experienced Everester – 10 of us (I was the official buddhow – so everyone laughed at my jokes, appreciated my singing, put up with my crap and generally helped me along) and supported by a guide, an assistant guide, and a yak-wallah and his helpers – all of whom knew the terrain inside-out and for whom this was the equivalent of just another day at the office.


Two, the sheer beauty of the trek! This took me by surprise (trek brochures are like ads on Tinder in that everything is described as beautiful and each one is, I guess, in its own way) – each section was seriously beautiful, in completely different ways from the other sections. I just had to look up for fatigue to disappear, anywhere along the trek. The Doodhkoshi River that flows from the Everest region actually looks like frothy milk making its way southwards to the Ganga (we went up on its western side and returned along its east), and views of Mt. Amadablam and others were with us most of the time. The only thing we did not see was Mt. Everest in all its majesty, even from the base camp, we had to climb up Mt. Kalapathar the next day for that (begin at 0330 hours, climb to 5,600 m, come down and continue walking until 2200 hours on the day, I was so screwed – but I am spared having to say ‘Yes, I went to EBC, but I did not really see Mt. Everest’ while showing off at cocktail parties).


And three, the fun! This too was a surprise – treks are, for me, a test of endurance and I do them for many reasons but having fun is not among them. We chanced upon a restaurant in Namche Bazaar (Sherpa Bar and Steakhouse) whose owner was a music enthusiast, and we got him to sing Sherpa songs on a traditional instrument. We also commandeered the restaurant’s guitar and took over the space, both on the way up and down – and some of the group turned out to be serious singers. We celebrated a birthday in Dengbouche’s 4410 CafĂ© in similar riotous fashion, organizing a guitar and filling the place with music and laughter.


Another highlight was the flights to and from Luk La. A small plane takes one through some stunning mountain landscape before reaching the world’s most dangerous airport, where the runway is a short slope that ends with a deep drop into a valley located far below (where one’s plane would also end up if it did not lift off in time), and where flights cannot operate in bad weather, clouds, and a variety of other reasons. We were lucky – flights were cancelled for four days before our return, and then operated for a day (our day) before closing for an extended period once again.


We were lucky in our timing in another way – Nepal, a tourism dependent country, is in deep shit because of the pandemic and this otherwise extremely crowded route was near empty. Other than three Italians, the only other foreigners on the route with us, occupying the rest-houses, eating the food and employing the guides, porters and yaks, were Indians. Things will change, the mountain is not going to disappear, and I hope they do soon, but it was also nice to experience the EBC trek at this time of less rush and of local appreciation for the noisy but unafraid-of-COVID Indian.


I am glad I did it, and wish I had done it many years ago, when my legs would have laughed off the ups and downs, and my lungs the altitude. Better late than never, I guess! And, in case you are considering it yourself (if an obese 58-year-old can do it, so can you), my advice is – one, it is not a walk in the park, so prepare adequately and scientifically; two, go with a group you trust; and three, go vegetarian on the trek (never thought I’d say something like this) – cut meat (and everything else) is carried up into the Everest area by porters, a disgusting sight that one sees only on the way down, and the meat is therefore usually ancient by the time it reaches one’s plate. Spare yourself!


The group on Mt. Nangarshang (5,077 m), our acclimatization climb, on 2nd October 2021.










Trek Itinerary

Day

Journey

Altitude

26th Sep

Mumbai – Delhi – Kathmandu. Night in Boudhi Boutique Hotel, Thamel

 

27th Sep

Kathmandu to Luk La (2,846 m) by air, onwards to Ghat on foot

2,600 m

28th Sep

Ghat to Namche Bazaar

3,440 m

29th Sep

Namche Bazaar to Khumjung

3,790 m

30th Sep

Khumjung to Phortse

3,840 m

1st Oct

Phortse to Dengboche

4,410 m

2nd Oct

Day at Dengboche, acclimatisation climb up Mt. Nangarshang (5,077 m)

4,410 m

3rd Oct

Dengboche to Lobuche through Thuk La Pass

4,940 m

4th Oct

Lobuche to Gorakshep, onward to EBC (5,364 m) and back

5,164 m

5th Oct

Gorakshep to Kalapathar (5,644 m), back, onward via Lobuche to Pheriche

4,371 m

6th Oct

Pheriche to Namche Bazaar via Tenboche Monastery

3,440 m

7th Oct

Namche Bazaar to Luk La

2,846 m

8th Oct

Luk La to Kathmandu by air

 

9th Oct

Rest day in Kathmandu

 

10th Oct

Kathmandu – Delhi – Mumbai

 

Trekking Company: Boots and Crampons – 9000603444 – bootscrampons.com

 



Saturday, December 18, 2021

The Jashn e Gurez Experience

 

THE JASHN-E-GUREZ EXPERIENCE

Ajit Chaudhuri – December 2021

“If there is paradise on Earth, it is here; it is here; it is here!”


Ask the question, ‘which is the most beautiful place in India?’, and most people in the know would say ‘Kashmir’ (and probably repeat the lines Emperor Jehangir used to describe the place, which I have quoted above). But ask the question, ‘which is the most beautiful place in Kashmir?’, and the answers are likely to be more varied. The tourist guides would suggest one of Gulmarg, Sonmarg or Pahalgam, the indolent would point to the further reaches of the Dal or Wullar lakes, and the adventurous would go for the Lolab Valley, the Great Lakes trek, or crossing the Sadhana Pass into Teerthwal. Only the seriously knowledgeable, either old-timers familiar with the Kashmir riyasat of yore or military personnel who have served in its far corners, would say that there is nothing like the Gurez Valley. And then they would qualify the statement by adding, but don’t go there, it is too dangerous.


I visited Gurez this August, about 15 years after first hearing about it – this was for a trek to a high-altitude lake called Patalwan that was organized as part of the Army’s Jashn-e-Gurez festivities in the region celebrating India’s independence.


Gurez is the southwestern part of the old territory of Dardistan, which stretches from Gilgit in the north to Dras (famous as the second-coldest inhabited place on earth) in the east, cutting across two antagonistic countries and multiple geographic zones separated by high mountains but continuing to share culture and language. It lies 130 km from Srinagar along the Gilgit road that heads north out of the city, goes past the eastern edge of the Wullar, the town of Bandipora, and then across the 3,500-meter Razdan Pass where snowfall closes the route for 4 months a year. Continuing on the road past Dawar would take one north across the Line of Control (LOC) and onwards to Gilgit, or else east across the 4,100 m Kaobal Gali Pass and through the Mushkoh Valley into Dras (one of three motorable routes from within India into Ladakh, and open only to military vehicles). All these roads were ancient caravan trails that formed part of the ‘silk route’ connecting India, China and the West.


Administratively, Gurez is a tehseel within Bandipora district in Kashmir. Its defining features are – its inhabitants, who are Dardi (and not Kashmiri), tall, blue-eyed and speaking the Shina language that is still the lingua franca across Dardistan; the Habba Khatoon peak that resembles a pyramid and dominates Dawar town; and the rushing and roaring Kishanganga aka Neelam river that flows through it.


So, first things first, is Gurez beautiful? An unqualified yes, especially so around Dawar where the valley opens out and the river rushes through. We camped on a meadow by the side of the river for two nights, at an altitude of 2,700 meters (see photo 1 below). The trek too was beautiful – the alpine meadows were green (photo 2), undulating and uninhabited except for a few Gujjar families and their herds, there were no other trekking groups in the vicinity and so the campsites did not resemble Dharavi, and the lake that was our destination was large, impressive, and worth all the effort to get there. The trek was also pleasant, except for a day spent traversing rocks brought down by the glaciers along the route (day 4, see the appendix below).




Photo 1: Wife, self and our friend Sumeet – we had done the Kailash Mansarovar Yatra in 2014 together –  at Dawar, with the Kishanganga by our side and the Habba Khatoon in the background.



Photo 2: A view of the trek’s path, with our co-leader Lt. Col (Retd) Romil Barthwal in a yellow T-shirt, an Everester himself, looking on. He and Col. Paddy Bhat were the life and soul of the group.


Second – is Gurez dangerous? The locals themselves are pro-India, and military personnel were able to move freely in and around Dawar without fingers on trigger and quick response teams in tow. The area, however, including the route to Patalwan Lake, is proximate to the LOC and a convenient crossing point for unwelcome visitors from across it. The Army sent a patrol along the route while we were there (they did in two days, with weapons and full haversacks, what we did in five) – tough looking guys in beards and phirans who could have passed for terrorists themselves. This was by design, their officer, a young captain from Mumbai who was indistinguishable from his men, told us – enabling a split-second advantage in case of an encounter due to the enemy not knowing that they were army.


The trek was a series of firsts for me – my first in Kashmir (and my first not-work-related visit there), my first with strangers and through a trekking company (I took my wife, child and two friends along to offset this, only to find that the strangers quickly also became friends; and I enjoyed myself so much that I signed on for the same company’s next trek upon our return), my first in which the group leaders were ex-military men (great guys both), and my first with my elder child (it did not result in a lifelong antipathy to the outdoors, or to his parents for dragging him along).


Gurez is opening up, and tourists are welcome. I recommend checking it out!


Day

Description of the Trek

Altitude

1

Srinagar to Dawar, 130 km across the Razdan Pass (3,500 m)

2,800 m at Dawar

2

Dawar to Dawar Heights – a climb up to an alpine meadow

3,500 m

3

Dawar Heights to Patalwan – up and down along alpine meadows

3,500 m

4

Patalwan to Patalwan Lake and back – a long and tiring day, with significant stretches of moraine en route

3,900 m at Patalwan Lake

5

Patalwan to Dawar Heights

 

6

Dawar Heights to Dawar – a pleasant walk. In Dawar by mid-day.

 

7

Dawar to Srinagar

 

Trekking Company: Boots and Crampons – 9000603444 – bootscrampons.com