Where to find me

Hey everyone, 

I am not too active on this platform anymore but thought I'd check in to say that I'll be way more active on a public Instagram I've created to share my thoughts and observations. It's at @eyes.uncloudedd :) and it'll mean a lot if you gave it a follow!

A review of Pitt in the Himalayas!

Last Monday, I was on a study abroad panel for year 1s and 2s sharing about my PitH experience! I was there from August 21 to December 9, 2017 and I highly recommend it! I’m not too concerned if there’s genuinely no interest, but it’ll be sad if the programme is a good fit for someone who just didnt know enough about it to make an informed decision :)

Hence in light for sharing information and anecdotes to guide your informed decision, I thought I'd post my responses to the questions I was asked.

Q: Introduce your major and the institution you studied at. 
A: I'm a history major and environmental studies minor. I was based at the Hanifl Centre, under the Pitt in the Himalayas programme. The Hanifl Centre is an offshoot of an elite boarding school in Mussoorie. We live in student dorms of said boarding school, up on a hill from the main road. Don’t worry these dorms aren’t near the other student dorms so it doesn’t get noisy. It’s 15mins uphill on your first try, 10mins on a regular day and 5mins if you’re sprinting to grab your sleeping pad right before the big trek!!

Professors from the University of Pittsburgh and Syracuse University teach us courses in anthropology, history, and environmental studies. We also had the opportunity to learn Hindi or Urdu at a renowned language school, famous for coaching British colonials and American missionaries in the local language of business. We also have access to the gym, rock wall, canteen food, dance studios, and music rooms of the boarding school.

The gym became a place of comfort and relaxation. Here's my friend Kelly and I :)

Q: Why did you choose that school (academics or otherwise)?

A: PitH was my only choice since Y1S2. It's because I was extremely set on gaining a different kind of academic experience, one that is more focused on learning about the local community, living in a less urbanised area, interacting with the environment, and in so doing, develop myself in different ways — physical fitness, emotionally and mentally. I knew I love the mountains, I love learning about the 'web of life' (ecology and all its beautiful interconnections), walking, trekking and exploring. The course offerings at PitH also seemed like a good fit for my academic interests in anthropology, history and ES. Leading up to the trip I also realised how truly little I know about India, this other major part of Asia, and became very interested in the very vast potential and avenue for learning!

Q: What classes did you do while there?

A: For the first time in university, I overloaded with six modules, as I believe that each are complementary and mutually reinforcing with the other modules. They are: (i) Himalayan Geography: History, Society and Culture, (ii) Tribal Identity in the Himalayas, (iii) Tibetan Culture and the Tibetan Diaspora, (iv) Religion and Ecology, (v) Himalayan Biodiversity and (vi) Hindi. 

This hotchpodge of classes really helped me glean diverse perspectives to life in the Indian Himalayas. Through the weeks, class discussions have been diverse, ranging from the social construction of tribal identity in the hills, the galvanizing and divisive nature of a politics of recognition, Foucauldian theories of governmentality, Edward Said and Donald Lopez’s engagement with theories surrounding orientalism and new-age orientalism, agricultural methods in India after the Green Revolution, the nature of human-wildlife conflicts in the hills, and the development of religious beliefs against the backdrop of majestic mountains. 

Look at us, clamouring to touch an elephant's tongue! Just the week before we gained a truckload of information about elephants, their characteristics and their role in the jungle ecosystem. (cr: skye!)

Q: What was something that surprised you while away? 

A: How truly vast and diverse India is! Truly. When I returned, the question I got asked the most was "Is India hot?" and to me that just captures the vast lack of understanding of, and inability to imagine, India among Singaporeans. India is hot and crowded, but also hilly, undulating and cold.  

Keeping warm in many ways (cr: skye!)

Our very first trip was to Ladakh, located on the Tibetan Plateau. After flying across mountain ranges, above the clouds, we landed at 3700masl. This was a cold desert, and man it felt so different! We’d sweat profusely when the sun was out, and the very next moment it would be cloudy and cold. We went on such complementary class field trips for 49 out of 111 days that we were there, and the differences in places and characters and local stories that our profs furnished us with never cease to surprise me. I saw so many faces of Northern India, from the ‘Spiritual Disneyland’ of Rishikesh where the commodification of ayurvedic medicine and yoga is most rampant, and the barren cold desert of Ladakh which the Indian military – much to the dismay of conservationists – is attempting to green, to the fertile agricultural fields of Majkhali and finally the unforgiving and physically challenging trekking routes of Har Ki Dun. 

Most importantly, I discovered I learnt best by doing, reinforcing academic knowledge about this new cultural and academic environment through practice and application. My experiences have also heightened my empathy for marginalized communities, and inspired me to think critically about the kinds of context-specific policy, business and social innovations necessary to address the dynamic challenges of the developing world.

Q: What was something you wished you knew before going? 

A: I wish I was made more aware of the facilities available at my dorm and the boarding school that we were attached to. For instance, the school library with some very good books to read. I had packed upwards of 7 or 8 books into my luggage, thinking I was gonna be perched up in the mountain above civilization!! I couldn't be more wrong -- Mussoorie which is a 30mins walk away is quite touristy, settled, developed and urbanised. 

Mussoorie as seen from Landour. Landour is quieter and more tranquil :)

I also wished that I had learnt Hindi at an introductory level before going. That would have accelerated my learning of the language while I was there. 

Finally, I wish that I had somewhat moderated my expectations. I pinned great hopes that this will be the BEST 4 months of my life. I thought I’d be living in pristine nature and playing with forest creatures all the time. That wasn’t the case. But I think sem abroad doesn't have to be /lifechanging/ for us to still love and miss it.

 

for instance, I miss buying fresh fruits from vendors on the way to town

Q: What was especially difficult on study abroad? What is something you’re proud of? 

A: It was especially difficult to assimilate with the group initially, because it felt like we came from very different backgrounds and had different conversation topics. I was noticeably more outgoing and enthusiastic about the treks than others. I’m proud therefore of the eventual balance that I found between independence and interdependence with my batchies. In the day, I’d walk to my classroom to write papers (because my laptop malfunctioned) or to town to the cafe to read and buy things, and at night I’d socialise and reflect about the day with friends.

Eventually I grew to love everyone - their quirks, imperfections and our overall team dynamic (cr: shannon!)

Q: What about your experience was similar or different to Yale-NUS? (e.g. curriculum, res life, community, etc…)? 

A: We were really such a small community. There were 12 of us, all taking the same classes - kinda like common curriculum - and we were going everywhere together all the time. Initially it was scary because I was so afraid I couldn't fit in! But it worked out better than fine in the end. 

Our expedition really exemplified this. I wrote about this in an earlier post: I really loved the fact that we were 12 disparate personalities with ordinary/no trekking background coming together and synergising to elevate ourselves 10,00ft to a height of 14,435ft. I had always been more of a ‘competitive’ hiker, with ambitions to summit as fast as possible. I'd always think that I'm motivating people by hiking really fast ahead. But of course that's not how you motivate someone!! In India, what made the experience more satisfying was the collective experience of accomplishing milestones - passing the treeline, gaping at snowcapped peaks, scrambling up rocky screes and hiking to the blue-green alphine lake, together. 

teamwork makes dreams work (cr: skye!)

Q: Were there aspects of your identity or parts of your personality you experienced differently in your study abroad environment? 

A: I am way more independent. I look out for myself more when crossing the road and turning corners on the street. I think about how I want to spend the precious daylight hours, because the cold renders me inactive by night. It drops to around 4-8 degrees from mid-November. (Our rooms are not individually heated, rather there is a heater in the common area).

I read a book about how my body is not a machine and I should stop understanding it as such, a mere means to my goals. The environment in my Sem Abroad really facilitated this new mindfulness. For instance, when I got sad, I'd take care of myself and my emotions through long walks, to help process the day. 

Some days I’d come back to my room and fall asleep by 8pm, having spent daylight hours from 6am - 7pm writing a paper at the Hanifl field centre (my laptop crashed), and visiting cafes and friends in town. Initially I’d feel bad for not maximising my night time to finish projects but eventually I realised and learnt that my body comes first; I have to love it more and think about its well-being. Work will do itself. 

 

this never happens in yale-nus.

Q: What is something you’ve taken back to Yale-NUS when you returned? 

A: To invest time to talk to people. To learn from, and with, them. Because I was more relaxed and having conversations with my friends and especially my roommate Amiya, I discovered how conversations help me examine emotions and thoughts that I've buried away or only examined superficially. I am an introvert in the sense that I get drained in social situations, and need a lot of downtime to process before moving forward. However, I am learning to understand ‘socialisation’ as a way of improving my mental well-being, to re-energise my mind with fresh perspectives, and to be honest with myself and others about how I’m feeling.

Q: How did you keep connected to your family/friends at home and at Yale-NUS when you/they were abroad? 

A: Firstly, yes, there is wifi and you can skype! It's also really cheap to send postcards home! I sent my family and friends photos, long descriptions and postcards of what I was seeing and how I was coping with the work. I kept a blog, and updated my social media quite regularly. Reading them now, they really are very short slices of life abroad. It’s hard to communicate every thing that’s going on, but one can always convey emotions and mental state with a symbolic example. 

this is a postcard of trishul by my programme head, Akshay!

Takeaways from the Baraadsar Lake expedition

Reflections on the relationship between humans and the environment

Pc: skye prentice :)

The Baraadsar Lake expedition was phenomenal in more ways than one. For my happiness on this trek, I have many people to thank. But most of all, I have to thank Mother Nature, for showing me a joy far deeper than the joy surpassing my ‘altitude ceiling’ – the knowing that this was what I was blessed to do. Step by step I reconnected with the life and the earth I loved.

In this essay, I pen the product of my conversation with the world around me:

Pc: skye prentice :)

1. It’s the journey, not the destination, which matters. Reading ‘Call of the White’, the story of seven women from across the Commonwealth nations who skied to the South Pole, one quote stood out to me, “it seemed to me important to rekindle interest in our planet and to show by example that high adventure was still at hand, that quite ordinary people without advanced skills can realise the most astonishing and ambitious goals if they set their minds to it.” And I realised, yes, this summarises what this expedition should be about. It is about 12 disparate personalities with ordinary/no trekking background coming together and synergising to elevate ourselves 10,00ft to a height of 14,435ft. I had always been more of a ‘competitive’ hiker, with ambitions to summit as fast as possible. This time though, what made the experience more satisfying was the collective experience of accomplishing milestones - passing the treeline, gaping at snowcapped peaks, scrambling up rocky screes and hiking to the blue-green Baraadsar Lake, together.

2. Beautiful things are at hand if I would just let myself see them. My first evening at Himri campsite, I went outside with a headlamp to read by the river. However, flies big and small came swarming to my headlamp and attacking my face. I’d shake away flies and back they’d come, drawn to the only light source in my valley. Sighing I gave in. I turned off the headlamp, looked up, and beheld - in all directions and stretching behind the surrounding mountains - innumerable twinkling silver stars, speckled across the night sky. It was really, really magical.

3. Pooping past dark and in early mornings is the best feeling ever. After I find a suitable spot and flick off the headlamp, it feels as if I have the whole world to myself, with the silhouettes of trees and the mountain slopes bearing witness, as I answer the call of nature. Apart from its obvious inconvenience, I enjoyed peeing and pooping on the mountain trail. As Edward Abbey describes in The Monkey Wrench Gang, it was “no sacrilege – only a quiet jubilation.”

4. Context matters. Crossing a narrow pass with a waterfall and a cliff face to our right and slippery rocks to our left, the group were confronted with two men photographing our crossing. We were taken aback and did not respond swiftly enough to confront the intruders. Some of us got really upset, and this incident was mentioned by a few as a ‘low’ point during the debrief session. But Titu explained that the men had been capturing documentary evidence of the dangerous path to boost their advocacy to the government for the construction of a safer path. Given this context, their actions became more understandable. The incident became less about the infringement of privacy and more about a legitimate safety concern shared by the villagers, and which should be remedied.

5. Take it one step at a time. In past day-hikes, my strategy had been to scramble quickly, even run, up slopes. This expedition was the first time that I’m finding my frame as a small hiker stacking the odds against me, when I have to carry 1/6 of my body weight up treacherous slopes with me. By the second day, the fatigue of bodily exertion kicked in. I could not get used to how heavy my bag felt, and just like running a marathon, I found that it doesn’t ever get easier. What helped me through that day was Zach (my trek-leader) snapping me out of self-pity and unhelpful thoughts about how tired I felt or how I could have packed lighter for the trek. From then, I took his advice to focus on breathing deeply and very simply, plodding on, all the way to the campsite.

6. Given the above, it was a real surprise to find that mastering the art of packing a trekpack can make life so much easier. On the day that we would ascend 1970ft and cross the treeline, I woke even before the crack of dawn to give myself a wide berth of time to carefully consider how to make my trekpack less top-heavy. Even though that day’s trek was claimed to be the most treacherous by our guides, I found it easier than usual. I was breathing better and in higher spirits – even enjoying the ache in my thighs and glutes!  

7. Sleeping early is natural, healthy behaviour, made unnatural in urban environments. In Singapore, even Mussoorie, I would do work on the laptop and read on my phone till late past midnight. In my three-men tent in the middle of the forest, however, far away from fluorescent city lights and pervasive light pollution, my iPhone screen is conspicuously and artificially bright in the pitch dark tent even at 8pm. Illuminating the tent, it hurts my eyes and disturbs the sleep of my tent-mates. I abandoned attempts to journal on my phone and fell asleep quite quickly every night.

8. Nature never disappoints. Having the thundering of the river drown away everything superficial and unimportant felt phenomenal. I felt restored to my identity, my true essence, cleansed of sorrow, fear, selfishness and judgment. In Nature’s embrace, I feel no judgment – have never felt judgment – only challenge by choice. The day that we hiked to the lake, I pushed myself exceptionally hard to follow the guide up a rocky and steeply-inclined path. My thighs and glutes cried in pain. At one of the steep slopes, he turned around, smiled and said, “Good!” I beamed back “Thank you”, realising – through challenging myself in nature – that I am stronger than I think. Perhaps I may never gain control over my life and its circumstances. But just as this expedition started at River Rupin and ended across mountain ridges at River Supin, I can go in the darkest nights as rivers flow - fearlessly, unceasingly, bravely, beautifully, in full confidence of the next sunrise and a glorious bluegreeness to come.

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”

Natural highlights on Baraadsar Lake trek

The Baraadsar lake trek was a visually stunning experience. This post will make mention to the best natural highlights I witnessed.

Hiking to Sarutal campsite on the second day, I saw a pair of serpent eagles majestically swooping low and high in the air. With an impressive wingspan of 100-170 centimetres, I observe how this bird would easily harness on warm thermals for rising in the air, searching for food without unnecessary physical exertion. Such flight behaviour happens especially in the mornings, as the sun rises above the higher peaks in the distance and heat up the surrounding air.

Amaranth fields 

Passing villages, we saw fields of red harvested amaranth. Zach and Titu explain that they are India’s version of quinoa. Like quinoa, amaranth is not a grass, but rather a nutritious ‘pseudo-cereal’, tasting like cereals after cooking. A cup of cooked amaranth contains 251 calories and nine grams of protein, comparable to 222 calories and 8 grams of protein in quinoa. They also grow abundantly in India, from the Himalayan hills to the Northern, Central and Southern plains of India, as well as the coastlines in the East, West and South. Another testament to amaranth’s versatility is its historical status in the diets of traditional communities in places as far-flung as Mexico and Russia! The crop requires very little water, and provides a high yield of both grain and leafy vegetable. Furthermore, its adaptability precludes the use of chemical fertilisers and pesticides to support and enhance growth, leaving it to grow organically. Notwithstanding amaranth serving as a local solution to India’s malnutrition problem, some activists are hailing quinoa production as the silver bullet for farmers and children alike. Popularised by celebrities, quinoa features significantly in urban food fads, who reject “coarse grains” (amaranth and millets) for more “refined” and trendy diets. In my opinion, despite quinoa’s impressive qualities, it will be a loss if quinoa is pursued unequivocally over millets, given their similar nutritional offerings, the cheaper production cost and the local cultural heritage of amaranth.

 

Crossing the tree line

On day four, we crossed the tree line, gaining 600 metres in elevation to camp at 3600masl. While the tree line was well-defined from a distance, as we trekked closer, we realised it was more of a gradual transition. There were still juniper trees a few metres below our trail, and shorter but denser rhododendron bushes that are rarely more than 1m in height.

To our left and right, our vistas uninhibited by trees, distant mountain ridges opened up before our eyes, reflecting the golden rays of the sun. We gaped at the snowcapped peaks of Swargarohini, Black Peak and Banderpooch, barely believing our fortunes in being able to see such wondrous scenes of nature.

 

(Above): Shrub variety of rhododendron; (Below): Various peaks in sight

I was also excited to see dramatic and visible creations of modern plate tectonic forces. Following the subduction of the Tethyan Ocean, located between India and Asia, during the Paleozoic era (541 to 252 million years ago), the collision of continents produced impressive rock structures and lithologies. Having not seen the ocean in three months, I was humbled to reflect on the geology of these structures formed in ancient days, when the “Indian subcontinent, adrift on the earth's mantle, moved northward to collide with the Asian land mass, driving these marine rocks, inch by inch, five miles into the sky” (Peter Matthiessen's The Snow Leopard).

On day five, we hiked 15 kilometers from the  campsite to Lake Baraadsar and back, crossing into alpine tundra. Some of our hiking paths were scree – collections of broken rock fragments at the base of cliffs and valley shoulders, which threatened to loosen under my feet. Screes are the result of physical and chemical weathering and erosion acting on a rock face, and mostly attributed to the formation of ice within mountain rock slopes. As rainwater or snowmelt collect in the cracks of rocks, the water freezes and expands at night when temperatures drop below zero. The increases in volume of the ice exerts pressure on the cracks in the rock, causing them to split further. During the day the ice melts and the water seeps deeper into the cracks. At night the water freezes again, and the process repeats itself until a slab breaks off from the larger rock.

 

(Above, pc to Skye): Ascending the scree field; (Below): Resting at the top

After crossing a pass at 4400masl – my personal ‘altitude ceiling’, we entered a massive bowl-shaped snow field that resembled a cauldron because it was surrounded by ridges on all sides. It was beautiful, and so cold that there was snow on the ground at 12 noon!

Alpine tundra, a massive bowl-shaped snow field

The final destination made it all worthwhile. The blue-green, high altitude Baraadsar Lake is located at a height of 4300masl and about 400 metres long. Considered sacred by the locals, it is popular among the locals and we were offered small pieces of coconut when we arrived. As I arrived 35 minutes ahead of the group, I sat close to the water, beholding its crystal clear blue-greenness. Returning from the trek, I read that high altitude lakes are so blue because as glaciers melt, filling these pools with water, glacial flour – or very finely grounded rock – are suspended in the water. As these particles are near the surface, they distort the wavelengths of lights that hit the lake, reflecting visible hues that fall in the blueish-green end of the spectrum. That was interesting to learn as I always assumed the presence of special mineral content in these lakes.

Lake Baraadsar

Finally, to top off an experience that reminded me of the wonders of nature, on the final day of our trek, we saw what remained of an old steel suspension bridge across a river. The debris looked absolutely dystopian against the river’s relentless flow, and to me, almost a warning against the futility of human’s accomplishments in the broader, natural scheme of things.

An old steel suspension bridge, destroyed by the river’s flow

 ~End~

Women - Mothers, Bosses, Farmers, Artisans

For: Himalayan Geography module

This paper is dedicated to all the inspiring and devoted working women I met over the week that I spent in Kalika village. From heads of household to founders of social enterprises, women participate in various spheres of society, uplifting their and their families’ lives.

Women of UMANG

(Left): UMANG shop sign; (Right): A product by rural Mongolian herdswomen and marketed by the Snow Leopard Trust in exchange for the community’s promise to protect and not hunt snow leopards

UMANG, short-hand for the Mahila Umang Producers Company, is an amazing initiative that has connected more than 3000 Kumaoni women. The UMANG member seeks to improve the quality of her and her family’s lives through the sales of hand-knitted woollens, fruit preserves and pickles, natural honey, beeswax candles and natural spices. To serve the localised needs of each village, women form Self-Help Groups (SHGs) of a maximum of 20 women, which increases their credibility in the eyes of banks. SHGs are able to open bank accounts, to which members contribute Rs.10 – Rs.100 every month. The accumulated amount can be channelled as micro-credit towards healthcare, agriculture and livestock improvement, housing and sanitation, education and small enterprises that the group is collectively interested in. As such, SHGs often are the foundation stone for many community development programmes. Akshay considers this system of micro-credit the main draw for establishing SHGS, as it offers members financial independence, with its more humane interest rate of 2% instead of the rapacious corporate loan rate of 12%. The UMANG website reports that within the last decade, SHGs have accumulated Rs.8.00 million, of which almost 70% serves as small peer-to-peer loans.

We found out that our host mum Neha-ji is a member of UMANG and specialises in producing mango chutney. The double income of the family (her husband is a chef) positions them as relatively well-to-do in the village. This is evident because Neha-ji owns four cows and two calves. She invests in her three daughters’ education, sending them to rather expensive private schools: Babita and Mahima attend Chaitanya Montessori School, a private school that costs 700 rupees a month, while Manisha attends Beershiva Senior Secondary School and goes for tuition, adding another 620 rupees to the household expenditure.

The double income also spurs the money economy, giving the household purchasing power at bazaars – for good and for bad. The family could afford eggs, thus increasing the nutritional richness of their vegetarian diet. More ‘luxury’ items such as Kumaoni plum jelly were also available to accompany our breakfast of potato parantha. However, Neha-ji would also often give the elder girls money to buy snacks and sweets – basically, junk food – from a general shop 3 minutes away from home. They let me try some corn puffs which are made to taste salty or salty and spicy. I remember in Sainji, children were also going into the local village store and getting big packets of corn puffs, before heading to school. Out of curiosity I had gotten one myself but could barely finish it because it had been so salty.

(Left): Neha-ji and her four children – Path, Mahina, Babita and Manisha; (Right): Trash pile of snack and sweet wrappers on a slope under Neha-ji’s house

I am worried for them. While the children in Sainji and Kalika are not overweight – in contrast to 30% of children living in India’s urban centres – they may be susceptible to the less obvious and longer-term threat of non-communicable diseases (NCDs) such as hypertension and glucose intolerance. Experts explain that excessive consumption of food high in salt, sugar and fat is the main culprit for obesity and NCDs among children. Another disconcerting observation I made was how the children would go on using leaky pens and small pencil stubs, preferring to spend 5 rupees on sweets rather than good writing equipment. Researching online, I found an interesting solution to this problem. A survey of adolescent junk-food intake in Aligarh, Uttar Pradesh demonstrate that junk food intake was lower among children of working mothers than those of homemakers. In fact, the more educated the mother, the healthier her children’s diets. On the other hand, junk food intake increased with the father’s education and socio-economic status. This research is important as it debunks the ‘Lazy Mother’ argument as the cause for the rise in junk-food intake. On the contrary, it advocates that female education could eliminate this drain on family finances spent needlessly on junk food and increase the healthfulness of children’s diets in India.

Women of HillCraft India

HillCraft is a non-profit organisation founded by Akshay’s sister that employs deserving mothers to make handicrafts for the Scandinavian market. The profile of women are thus similar in that they are young mothers. Akshay's sister opined that employing mothers sets off a positive multiplier effect in society, because their incomes go on to uplift not just herself but also the next generation. Within their office, some women fix Christmas-themed cards, some make newspaper bags, while others fashion bangles out of chir pine needles.

Above: Quality-checking the Christmas-themed cards

One interesting product that HillCraft is launching soon are makeup pouches fashioned from the traditional Kumaoni cloth called the picchora. The pichhora is worn by married Kumaoni women on auspicious occasions. It’s an article of clothing imbued with cultural significance: vermillion is the colour of purity, saffron that of piousness and a reminder of one’s moral equality with everything in the world. Traditionally, the cloth is first dyed in turmeric for the saffron shade, before red dots are printed on, with the help of a coin covered in cloth. A homemade product, a picchora would be passed on from mother to daughter, for generations and generations. In recent years, however, picchoras are increasingly machine-made outside of the Kumaon, with wooden blocks, different materials, synthetic dyes and even different colours. Nevertheless, HillCraft recognised the effectiveness of the picchora in raising awareness of Kumaoni culture and heritage. Thus, HillCraft strategically jumped on the bandwagon with the design of the new product, believing that it would be a good exercise of the women’s skills to produce picchora the traditional way. In the process, it would also foster pride over her Kumaoni culture, against the present trend of mass-market commodification.

Above: Products that HillCraft will soon be launching, of which the leftmost is a pouch made with the traditional Kumaoni patterned cloth

Final Thoughts

Akshay shared a story of how one of HillCraft’s employees lacked nimbleness required for making the greeting cards. Her probation period, during which newcomers apprentice under senior artisans, had already been extended from 1 month to 3 months. The founders thought it was bad for her self-esteem to continue extending probation, till they discovered through further conversation that she was sufficiently skilful and even creative with some beads and string. And that was how the jewellery-making arm of HillCraft started!

In a society more concerned with taking or matching contributions for contributions, UMANG and HillCraft demonstrate how involving others in dignified employment opportunities and support systems are in fact the ingredients of greater success. These inspiring stories of Kumaoni women who climbed the social ladder of success, looked back and gave others a hands-up will be etched in my mind, as I seek my own meaning and avenue of ‘success’.

~ End ~

Further links for shopping at UMANG & HillCraft, if you're so inclined! :) 

Prescription against Practice: The Muslim community in Mussoorie

For: Himalayan Geography module

This paper is my examination of the theological prescriptions versus grounded practice of the Islamic faith in Mussoorie, inspired by my visit to Jama Masjid in Mussoorie.

The interiors of Jama Masjid

Jama Masjid, which is where we typically hear the azans or call to prayer from – all the way at the CC. Yousef chuckles, “Some azans are really melodious if the person knows how to sing. Others are really just shouting.”

Yousef shared about the Five Pillars of Islam, juxtaposing theological prescriptions with realities on the ground. The first pillar of praying five times a day, Yousef says, “simply doesn't happen”. Yousef attributes it to various reasons – out of laziness or busy schedules. For the most devout, however, long prayer sessions coupled with meal preparation and consumption between prayers can take up the entire day! He gave the example of his mother who lost her worldly ambitions after his father passed on, spending her days from then on solely “in preparation for the next life”. Her prayers were 2-hour affairs, five times a day.

The second pillar is to make an annual donation of 2.5% of one’s assets to the widowed and orphaned, as the Prophet believes this will cleanse one’s money. However as this usually amounts to a large sum, most people do not keep faithful accounts and do not contribute. Yousef explains that he is already paying 30% income tax to the government, and so deems himself to be failing his religious duty but fulfilling his secular one. Nevertheless, Yousef acknowledges a societal-wide failure to alleviate poverty, particularly among the Muslim community. Constituting 14.2% of the population, Muslims are India’s largest and also poorest minority group. They occupy the bottom rungs of most socioeconomic indices, and one in four beggars in India is a Muslim. Household financial constraints keeps 28.8% of Muslim children out of school – statistics which are higher than even Dalits (22.8%) and Tribals (24.8%). This has led to the proliferation and popularity of Islamic schools. Attached to mosques, these schools take in orphaned or poor boys, whose parents sincerely believe that they are performing their religious duties and offering their son better prospects in a mosque. Due to a lack of funding, however, the boys are typically fed only two meals a day, having to go hungry the entire morning after the first prayer, which takes place before sunrise. “This is why they can be easily recruited into ISIS. They are so badly treated that they see any other situations as an improvement.” Additionally, the boys learn Arabic blindly and recite the Quran without sufficient intellectual understanding. They are merely imbued with false confidence that they will go to Heaven. Yousef laments that such false interpretations leaves them even more susceptible to terrorist recruitment. “They think that ISIS and Jihad can be a shortcut to Heaven. With jihad, it seems that it doesn’t matter if previously prayers were performed improperly, or if they didn’t donate their incomes.” Fearing such false instructions and narrow perspectives bordering on extremism, Yousef occasionally bars his children from attending some Sunday sermons at Jama Masjid if he distrusts the speaker’s credentials.

The third pillar encourages adherents to perform a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in their lifetime. Pilgrimages are conceptualised as religious endeavours undertaken when one has fulfilled his/her worldly duties, such as working and raising kids, and is renouncing worldly desires to focus on spiritual devotion. In Yousef’s family, because Yousef and his brother are now employed and earning incomes, the potential of going to Hajj has reinvigorated Yousef’s mother a great deal. Laughing a little, Yousef shares how she has started walking about more, and watches documentaries and reads guidebooks about Mecca, thus keeping herself engaged. However, India with the second largest Muslim population in the world is allocated a disproportionately smaller quota by the Saudi government. Meanwhile, countries like Malaysia, Indonesia and Pakistan get more slots due to their status as Muslim countries. Hence it was difficult for Yousef’s mother and her male chaperone to secure a spot, leaving his mother’s wish still unfulfilled.

The fourth pillar is that of fasting during the month of Ramadan. Yousef imagines that this is manageable in the cooler climes of Mussoorie but extremely exhausting for Muslims down in the plains, most of whom work in low-paying, labour-intensive jobs such as rickshaw pulling.

The final pillar is a declaration of faith that “There is no god but God, and Muhammad is the messenger of God”. The seal of Muhammad, which reads “Muhammad, messenger of God”, has however been appropriated by ISIL for its flag. In the current atmosphere of anti-terrorism, Yousef shares that Indian Muslims live in fear of offending the Hindu majority and being branded as extremists. He says that he does not carry meat around when he’s in town, even if it isn’t beef. “It is impossible to prove otherwise!” He tells us of an incident in a rural village in Manipur where a Muslim cowherder was lynched under accusations of stealing cattle. Yousef also does not cook beef at home “even though technically [he] can”, out of consideration for his neighbours. “If I want beef I go into town. There are shops in Dehradun that serve good beef. But carrying meat on my motorbike… that can be life-threatening.”

After a moment of silence, Yousef shared, “I don't know why, but it is so difficult to be a Muslim these days… and my kids, they are learning. They used to run down the streets with their skullcaps and hijabs, but now I tell them not to wear them, until they enter the mosque. You never know, they can be hit maliciously by motorcycles or cars on the road. I also told my kids not to write ‘There is no god but God’ as freely as they used to in the past, on their notebooks and even their hands. I asked them, ‘Do you know what this may mean?’ and told them about ISIL. Recently on TV they learnt about the religious persecution of Muslim Rohingya people by the Buddhists. They ask, ‘why is this happening’, and you know… it’s hard to answer such questions, but the kids are picking up the cues. Two years ago my eldest son was due to get his passport in Dehradun. This meant a lot to him at 15 years old! He was excited, we drove into town, queued, but when the officer saw our names he said, ‘step this side sir’ and patted us down. My son asked why we went through that, and I shrugged it off as a random check. But I know… we know that it wasn't at all random. They saw our names and took us aside. My kids are learning, day by day, how difficult it is to be a Muslim.”

Final Thoughts

It was poignant hearing such a rendition of the practice and persecution, prejudice and politics of being an Indian Muslim. This was a perspective I had only heard from news or read online on blogs, as Singaporean Muslims generally face less overt and life-threatening discrimination. From my observation, though they sympathize with the suffering of Muslims abroad, they don't experience personal victimization on a widespread community-wide scale. And even though Partition in 1947 had been the only instance of communal violence in Mussoorie, it was evident from Yousef’s account that he senses the underground stirrings of communal suspicion and latent prejudices in his everyday life.

Before leaving, Yousef also briefly covered the other branches of the Islamic faith. Members of the Shia faith are welcome to pray alongside the Sunnis here. Yousef beams, “I think this may be one of the few mosques in the world that allows for that.” The Wahhabi faith is extremist, emanating from Saudi Arabian sponsorship, of which Osama bin Laden was a famous proponent. Sufi Islam dates back to the 14th century and to poets like Rumi, as Sufis seek a direct, loving relationship with God. Through dance, music and poetry, they ‘lose themselves’ and become one with the Ultimate Truth. Lastly, Yousef pointed at the bed hanging from the ceiling, near the washing area. This bed serves to transport the recently deceased from the mosque to the cemetery or the river on the final journey. It is a reminder of mortality to adherents –– that death could be just round the corner. And since in the Islamic faith this life is in preparation for the next, Yousef concludes, “We should do what we want with this life, and as much as we can… What will you fill your life with?”

~ End ~

I want to thank Mohammed Yousef for the extremely informative walking tour! 

Bibliographic note: All photos are my own.

My visit to a Jain temple, a Sikh gurdwara and a Hindu temple

For: Religion and Ecology module

Two weeks ago, we had a very cool walking tour of the places of worship in Mussoorie: a Sikh gurdwara (my first), a Hindu temple, and a Jain temple (also my first). Our guide Mohammed Yousef Ansari is a Hindu and Urdu teacher at Woodstock School. He has been teaching since he was 20, after his father passed away and he picked up the baton as breadwinner of the family. He told me he taught language through sociopolitical issues that his students were themselves concerned about, such as BT Corn and advertising on Facebook – teaching examples that make the language come alive. I thought it was brilliant.

Stopping along the road, Yousef pointed to the hillslopes where slums have proliferated. He said Mussoorie is a town of 40,000 and experiences slow population growth because people are not allowed to build new houses. There are also no universities in Mussoorie, thus limiting population growth. However there was apparently no prohibition on hotel construction, adnd Mussoorie now suffers from overdevelopment of tourist lodges, given its relative proximity to major cities Delhi, Ambala, and Chandigarh. Prior to that, local economic growth has also been slow, with missionaries and British communities as the locals’ main source of income. From the 1970s, after the Green Revolution, the trend of domestic tourism among middle-income Indians spiked. Hence when rural migrants came in search of a better life there weren't proper housing options available. The migrants initially constructed houses on the roadside, but authorities moved them away. Illegal housing are thus constructed on dangerous soil conditions of Mussoorie’s steep slopes. Their main source of income is collecting and processing trash, especially plastic. The irony is while the migrants carry out waste management for Mussoorie’s local and tourist population, they themselves lack access to hygienic sanitation service.

Slums constructed on the slopes of Mussoorie

Gurdwara Shri Guru Singh Sabha and Sikhis

Located along Mall Road, the Gurdwara Shri Guru Singh Sabha is celebrating 100 years of its establishment. Gurudwara literally means “door to the Guru”. We sat in the Dabar Sahib (the main hall), which was undergoing renovation before the anniversary celebrations. Yousef told us that Sikhism recognises an everlasting guru – the Holy Scripture Guru Granth Sahib, which is typically housed on a takhat (an elevated throne) in a prominent central position in the Dabar Sahib.

The history of Sikhs is based on an undivided Punjab from Amritsar to Lahore, and its holiest site the Golden Temple. According to Yousef, the Founder had a reformist agenda in mind. Known for his famous words, “There is no Hindu, there is no Muslim”, Guru Nanak (1469-1539) united outcast groups – Sufi Muslims and low-caste Hindus. Sikhs are thus known to be charitable, opening communal kitchens to feed the disadvantaged. The Sikh Empire, commonly considered the zenith of Sikhism at the political and institutional levels, was notable for its religious tolerance and pluralism, featuring Christians, Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs alike in positions of power. Till this day Sikhs are reputedly the most welcoming to international refugees of all faiths.

The other reputation of Sikhs as brilliant warriors is backed by statistics: Sikhs constitute 13% of the Army but only 2% of India’s population. This reputation started when, during the fifth Guru’s reign, Sikhism clashed with the Mughal Empire (1556-1707). As prominent Gurus were killed for refusing Islamic conversion and opposing Hindu persecution, Sikhs took up the sword. By the tenth Guru, Guru Gobind Singh, there was an all-out war. Fearing a major succession crisis, the tenth decided to terminate the line of human Gurus. He blew his spirit into the Holy Book, pronouncing it his successor and an eternal spiritual guide for Sikhs. The religious and secular significance of the Guru Granth Sahib is evident in its role in marriage ceremonies. While Hindu couples circumambulate the pious fire seven times and make vows that they’ll be husband and wife in the next 7 lives, Sikh couples circumabulate the Scripture.

In recent political history, 1984 was a difficult year for Sikhs. The Khalistan Movement agitating for a separate Sikh nation reached its zenith and started turning to militancy. Refusing to back down, then-Prime Minister Indira Gandhi launched Operation Bluestar. The Indian Army entered the Golden Temple at night, and by morning there were 500 dead bodies. The Sikh community was furious not only over the massacre, but also over the damage to the Akal Takhat (which is one of the five seats of temporal physical religious authority of the Sikhs). The Army had also entered the temple without covering their hair or washing their hands, adding further insult to the desecration of the holiest Sikh shrine. In a delayed retaliatory act three months later, Gandhi was assassinated by her two Sikh bodyguards. Communal tensions reignited, Hindu extremists enacted reprisals and pogroms against Sikhs especially in major cities. Yousef shared that Hindus in Mussoorie came out themselves in protection of the small local Sikh community. Elsewhere, over 2000 Sikhs were massacred within 2-3 days.

Shri Digambar Jain Panchayti Mandir and Jainism

Next we visited my first Jain temple. The temple has caught my eye before with its intricate carvings and clean white exterior. The interior had marble floors and featured gold decorations alongside with pictures of various nude ascetics. The priest Mr Jain (most adherents are surnamed Jain) shares his belief that Jainism is the oldest religion and civilization in the world. “We believe that because we are Dravidians, who were in Indus Valley way before the migration of Indo-Aryans from present-day Europe.” He showed us the traditional alphabet system of the Jains as evidence for their lineage to the Indus Valley.

There were also illustrations of a five-step process towards asceticism. There are 502 known ascetics presently – records are kept at temples – reputedly because it is extremely difficult to renounce every worldly ambition and possession and lead a strict lifestyle. Ascetics eat only once every 24 hours, and their food food portion must not exceed the size of their overlapping palms. They cannot hurt any living beings, not even insects. Whenever ascetics visit neighbouring towns, there will be a procession sweeping the floor free of bugs so that he won’t on any by accident. On the other hand, the laymen Jain is exempted from the sin of killing in acknowledgement of his or her worldly duties and attachments to upkeep the household and conduct business. Nevertheless, it was particularly enlightening to see how even the most peace-loving, violence-hating religion subjected women to a lower position, barring Kate and Kelly from entering on the basis of their period. Later I also confirmed that most ascetics are male. “The processes and rituals towards purification need 40 days,” explain our guide Mr Jain (most adherents are surnamed Jain). “And women usually don't have a window of that time, until they hit menopause. Our stance is that we support male ascetics, and hope that the female will be reincarnated by her good karma as a male in the next life.”

Before leaving, we heard a melodious Jain prayer, performed by both husband and wife holding a lamp and making circular motions before a statue of Mahavira, the 24th and most important Jain saviour and spiritual teacher. The statue was also made with gold, as it is considered the purest form of metal which cannot be corroded. In other rituals, saffron plays a role to symbolise gold but in a cheaper form.

The interiors of the Jain temple

Hinduism

To conclude the walking tour, we visited a Hindu temple which was a sensory overload from the start, with the large devotee crowd at 7pm, the colours of the statues and interiors, the smells, and the bells ringing. Some devotees were also blowing conch shells, which is believed to emanate the sacred syllable ‘Om’ – the first sound of creation. ‘Om’ is thus believed to the purest form of sound, ushering in freshness and new hope. Yousef says this sensory engagement is all about exciting the seven chakras of the body. Devotees pace around the room as they believe in receiving blessings by way of seeing depictions of the Gods. They touch both sides of the ear, in a gesture that Yousef translates as a practice of asking for pardon and forgiveness for not visiting and praying more often. We also learnt about the symbolic meaning of the golden-yellow saffron colour. Hindus traditionally use saffron to represent fire, which is said to purify everything regardless of how dirty or polluted it is. Worn as robes, saffron thus purifies the body and serves as a reminder that our physical self is transient, aiding thoughts of renunciation and the quest towards light and salvation. Saffron eaten, on the other hand, purifies the body from within.

~ End ~

I want to thank Mohammed Yousef for the extremely informative walking tour! 

Bibliographic note: All photos are my own.

Six Weeks in the Bhutanese Himalayas

All photos by Casey Rose Kohn :)

From June 5 to July 13, I was living, studying and playing in Jakar town, located in the central-eastern region of the Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan.

My previous trip to Bhutan had widely expanded my worldview beyond the confines of the classroom and Singapore.

So why go back?

Two weeks in 2013 weren’t enough for me to replace the feelings of wide-eyed wonder with a more grounded reflection of the impacts of Bhutan’s alternative way of measuring growth. What does a national metric that accounts for socioeconomic and environmental sustainability translate into, for communities on the ground?

Stepping into my summer course titled ‘Eastern Himalayan Forests and Rural Livelihoods’ with The School for Field Studies (SFS), I aimed to contrast my lived experiences of the ‘GDP’ metric that the rest of the modern world is so accustomed to, with the Gross National Happiness index, and gain some capacity to re-evaluate the common priorities and values that I have accepted unquestioningly. 

Initial impressions 

If you find that you can come to a tidy conclusion, think again. 

People often asked if I observe any changes from my previous trip. ‘Change is the only constant’, and this applies even – or perhaps especially – to Bhutan. (Buddhist thought emphasise the impermanence of most things, as a reminder against fixation and attachment.) Travelling into Jigme Dorji National Park on our first field exercise, piles of sand, gravel and plastic pipes were a common sight along the roads, next to clear green, fast flowing rivers. We learnt about plans to pipe or dam mountain streams for urban water and electricity consumption.

Eating my packed lunch amongst the cool broadleaf and mixed evergreen forest, I contemplated the magnitude of change and development this city will see.

As if in response, afternoon sees us hiking to Tango Monastery, where monks pursue higher-level Buddhist studies. There, a zipline system had been developed to transport logged timber for sale – a more ecologically-minded approach, compared to conventional methods of road construction. Within the monastery, we are given a rare tour of the art conservation being done to preserve hundred-year-old Buddhist wall paintings. Various methods of careful scaffolding were employed to prevent further deterioration, as opposed to restoration and repainting works. Cracks and blemishes are not painted over, but rather preserved, so as to meaningfully demonstrate the painting’s ageing and history.

This was a country that very much aimed for balance and moderation – between conservation and development, between preservation and restoration.

Experiencing the country 

If horses come galloping towards you, run the other way. 

Over the days and weeks, I learnt more and more to suspend judgment and observe. This was a place full of surprises and divergences from the world I knew, if I was willing to immerse in the present moment, and just be.

Soccer is a popular sport in Bhutan and one that I always enjoyed – from the bleachers. No better time and place, however, to get into the fray of the game, than at 3000 metres above sea level – estimating roughly where I *may* contact the ball, and sprinting across the muddied field in valiant efforts. As if to enhance to the challenge of scoring against the leaner, meaner Bhutanese team, a group of horses suddenly galloped onto the field, forming another defensive layer for our opponents. 

The game continued around them, until the opponent goalie shooed away the unfair advantage. Later I would learn that these are not wild horses, but domestic ones, kept for the purpose of transportation especially on rough, hilly terrains. Government policy stipulates that they are allowed to graze anywhere for food.

Academic research for social impact 

A purpose-driven curriculum and research projects with local partners 

Directed Research (DR) is considered the trademark of the SFS-UWICER collaboration.

UWICER, the programme’s local partner, stands for the Ugyen Wangchuck Institute for Conservation and Environmental Research (UWICER). It is a centre for policy dialogue and training in the fields of conservation and environmental sciences. As part of the collaboration, topics for research are informed by local needs. This was a level of student interaction and reciprocity with local communities that I have never experienced before. I was motivated to make the best of this opportunity.

My research partner, Rachel and I studied the nature of affective relations between national park staff and local residents. Bhutan’s national parks are unique as people live in them. Thus, park staff operate with a twin mandate of conservation and public service delivery. However, results from the previous Gross National Happiness survey reveal that happiness levels are lower among rural as compared to urban populations. This is also anecdotally corroborated. Hence Rachel and I were motivated to study how public service delivery may be enhanced to increase rural happiness. Our audience in the UWICER Auditorium included government researchers, forestry trainees and officials. 

Our findings included that park staff are sometimes perceived as distributing resources inequitably among locals. We also found park staff themselves largely clueless as to these causes for dissatisfaction among locals. Probing further, we found that the affective divide between park staff and locals may be attributed to the park staff's fear of being perceived as corrupt and too intimate or involved with any particular family. As such, park staff policed their interactions with locals, keeping communication to formal channels. This has restricted the range of feedback they receive. From our research, we recommended that gaps in understanding as to the causes for dissatisfaction be bridged for the future success of park programmes, thus achieving conservation goals as well as improving the welfare of locals.

(Mis)perceptions and the Insecurities that they reveal 

The ironies of presenting your research about perceptions, and succumbing to the perception that your audience are perceiving you poorly. 

In the presentation of such sensitive and critical data, I had been reminded many times about the importance of propriety and language. Phrases such as "we found that..." were replaced with "it appears from our research that...” The preface “it seems that..." was added to the start of my sentences. From the start, this constant policing of my language left me feeling frustrated.

The moment arrived. Though I began confidently, I wavered over parts of the script that I was uncomfortable with. At this point, as I looked at the audience, I thought I saw signs of boredom, miscomprehension and critical frowns. Holding myself together, I successfully delivered my segment, despite shaking and breathing heavily. All this drama, though, turned out to be in my mind. A perception and a misjudgement of the scenario -- based on my prior insecurities. In the end, as praise and votes of confidence came flooding in, my spirits instantly lifted. I instantly recognised how much I craved this external validation, even as I strive to be fuelled by internal motivation and confidence of my self-worth.

I realised that had I tended to my vulnerabilities and insecurities earlier on with trusted friends and mentors, I’d have delivered my presentation more courageously.

It was easy to beat myself up again. But with my friends’ encouragement, I saw that just as I was striving to be my ideal, equanimous self – the self that does not waver in the face of praise or criticism – I am, ultimately, human and it was time to be kind. The experience has taught me to listen to my heart, and give my emotions and instincts some credence.

Courage and conviction 

Be confident of the unique value and insights you bring to the table. 

The single most important advice my Principal Investigator, Dr Riam, offered me, was “stand by your research, because that’s standing by yourself.” Sometimes, this means having the conviction to defend my findings before more senior and authoritative figures in the field, by emphasising that our conclusions may not be representative of all of Bhutan, but rather specific to the local context that we studied.

Finally, I recognised my positionality as a foreign, young, female student and my unique ability to elicit anecdotes that current park staff may not be able to. As a result, I took greater pride in the products of my research and the insights that I bring to the table.

Home and Community 

Sometimes, when it drizzles lightly and or when I am out running, I get soaked in an intense nostalgia, almost a homesickness for Bhutan. It is the first place that I've lived for a substantial period in, outside of Singapore. Its running paths have become a familiar ritual through rain and shine and fog. I found a community, but I was also okay being by myself – in the mornings, late at night, with nothing but a book in hand, with very little distractions but my thoughts and the moths, beetles and bees crowding outside my window. In and around the small town of Jakar, I’ve climbed those mountains, sat by those rivers, explored those forests, and loved the sun and the moon and the stars.

My local friends asked me, “Will you come back to visit?” I would always reply, “I never thought I would be back the last time I left, but here I am.”

But if I don’t? Even if I should, for the rest of my life, live and work elsewhere from Bhutan, the experiences and inspiration from the past 6 weeks live on. All the ideas, habits and practices we shared and inspired each other to do – reflecting and journaling, being present and mindful, reading voraciously, running, taking risks to create our own adventures – they are in me. I can, and I still do them.

And if there is a single best thing Bhutan taught me, it is that though nothing is for certain, my future – and the places I want to be – are for me to dream and work towards.

Kadrinchey-la (thank you) Bhutan!

 

And to the people who went to Bhutan Summer 2017 with me... I love you all. 

Slogging through readings, midnight dancing on the basketball court, singing 'where is the love' in a random karaoke bar in Thimphu, #legsday up to kikiphu, making bear trail our own, presenting awesome projects... everybody has made my summer in one way or another :) thank you!