Sunday afternoon wonder

Sunday morning 7:30,
leaving Leh, 2°C

Sunday morning 8:30,
arriving in Delhi, 28°C

Oh yes... Delhi is hot (and a lot greener than Mumbai).

Random Sunday afternoon road trip: taking in a little world wonder.
The renowned Taj Mahal in Agra ('the Taj' for friends).

(Weather update: 38°C, scorching hot.)

Brace yourself for a sophisticated treat: A stunning white marble construction, meticulously laid out by an ingenious architect about 370 years ago.
Inlays in precious stones, so smooth you'd think they're paintings, citings from the Koran in -what appear to be- letters of equal sizes (but the equal size only obtained through refined optical illusions), 4 symmetric minarets built slightly leaning towards the outside in order not to fall on the dome in case of earthquake.
A marble-ous (pun intended) construction built as a remembrance of a husband to his deceased wife.

The Taj Mahal...
And there was nothing left but to stand there in awe.

Me against 'The Tea'

Newsflash: Indians like tea.

And preferably lots of it.
At every -literally every- hour of the day.
Tea comes in a multitude of varieties here: green tea,
black tea with ginger and milk, salty yak-butter-tea (black tea, salt, a nice big chunck of yak butter and milk), seabuckthorn tea (oh yes, it's research!). You name it: they brew it.

But I don't drink it. You can feed me pretty much anything but tea's just simply...not my cup of tea. Ever since I was 5, I have a tea trauma so, thanks but no thanks.

That does imply having to turn down tea (and the accompanying people) about 8 times a day: at breakfast, during meetings, in monks' kitchens.
Yes, even declining Holy men...

Tea for two
and two for tea
tea for you
but not for me...

Welcome to "Who Packs Your Bags"?'

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to 'Who Packs Your Bags'?
Behind door No. 1: DIY aka the normal way - you go on a trip, you pack your bags, you bring too much.
Behind door No. 2: A charming colleague packs your bag for you and brings your stuff to Delhi.

Two?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Here’s what you win: A round trip to Agra!

It's a simple plan.
No, I shouldn't say this.
Simple plans have a tendency to go very wrong very quickly.
So, this is the plan: I take a plane from Leh to Delhi. Skip my flight from Delhi to Mumbai. Clai takes my mountain stuff to Mumbai. Dawn brings my Agra-fit clothes to Delhi.
We drive from Delhi to Agra. We see Taj Mahal. Everybody happy.
Life is easy.

Trapped in -semi- paradise

Shht... What's that sound? Can you hear it? It's the sound of missing your plane returning to Mumbai.

You are currently reading the blog of a not-so-happy-camper.
Scheduled return to Mumbai was supposed to be tomorrow (Friday).
Booking the tickets today with a long weekend ahead, might have been a bit short notice (please note I was not responsible myself) .
So, yours truly is stuck in Leh.
No trip to Agra / Jaipur and Delhi any time soon. Big fat bummer!

We've pretty much seen everything there is to see and I'm pretty fed up with wearing my hiking shoes! (Did I really pay that much excess baggage to only be wearing my warm mountain clothes?)

Oh well, I guess meanwhile I did get used to the minor defects of mountain life, the cows know me and I can visit my adopted donkey again.
And didn't I mention feeling like a queen yesterday?
Well, I still need a couple of hours to get over it.
I guess it's true what they say: there's no such thing like a sure plan in India.



BTW - one good thing came out of it: the guy at the reception desk felt so bad for me that he gave a tour in Brad Pitt's suite at our hotel (he actually stayed here).
I walked over his doormat, sat in his sofa, laid on his bed. Too bad he wasn't home...

The one with the important visitor

Just finished our big workshop. Enough work for one day.

Ten of the most important stakeholders attended, including the Prime Minister of the State Jammu & Kashmir (*). He arrived in two cars.
How does one arrive in two cars?
Well, he was escorted by 6 armed military police officers.

All various parties involved were represented: the government, the collectives, the local farmers' association, forest preservation fund, entrepreneurs currently involved in other agricultural exports, ... All of them were VERY respectful towards the prime minister. As were we of course.
Everyone had tea (what else), biscuits, cake, spring rolls and samosas while Clai and I ran the workshop.
Three major topics we brainstormed about:

• Partner criteria (who do we want, who do we decline - like filling out an online dating form)
• Branding and awareness (trademarks, how to market, domestic vs international, which routes,...)
  
• Building the story (key differentiators, selling proposition, got the story going by showing the kids' drawings)
  

We had rented out a room in our hotel and checked upfront about the do's and don'ts in a 'Ladakhi workshop' so I think I behaved appropriately.
(To make IBM proud, I have to add we got compliments on the way we effectively ran the meeting! A Belgian and a US IBMer running an effective meeting. In India. Surely that's a first.)

Afterwards we were even consulted about marketing techniques for local shops (which was no problem for us in exchange for a discount). Or should I not mention this?
Probably against IBM's Business Conduct Guidelines...





(*) State Jammu&Kashmir is one of India's 28 states.
Population: 10,143,700
Surface: 222.236 km²
Capital: Jammu (winter) and Srinagar (summer)

Let's talk business...

Berry-business.
Finally starting to understand who's who in berry-land.
Local people aka Ladakhi: try to earn a living by picking berries that can only be harvested one year a month.
Harvesting of the berry that grows wild, happens between 5 and 9 in the morning.
Why? Cause at that point, the connection between the berry and the branch is at its most fragile.
Tapping on the branches with a stick or shaking the shrub, will set a berry shower (as opposed to berry bucket bath) into motion.
Then there's local entrepreneurs. People working in other industries the rest of the year but as entrepreneurs, get asked by the berry collectors when they'll be wanting (read buying) berries. But these local entrepreneurs first need a buyer. And that's where the problem starts.
There's currently one buyer and people are totally dependent on him. One year he bought the entire crop (but there's potential for more), last year he bought nothing (no berry-trade in 2008), this year he's buying only about 1/5th.
Another problem is the awareness of the berry. It simply isn't known or isn't being promoted in the right way.
It's already proving to be a challenge finding it in local shops.
And if they do happen to find some juice under the counter or in the back office, it comes in the most repulsive recycled plastic bottle that already survived 3 earthquakes and 2 civil wars and just started its fruitful 7th life. (btw: the picture is a civilized version in a program director's office)

The puss inside the bottle then comes into 2 parts: the top part being the pulp and the bottom part being water. Could be slightly more appealing.
Whereas other local produce is being sold and marketed (apricot jam, himalayan salt, ...), the juice seems to be a produce outcast.

But not to worry: Team IBM to the rescue!
Now that we understand the culture better, have -somewhat of- a handle on the ecosystem of stakeholders involved and the needs of the locals, we're working on a -insert drumroll- plan.
Not just any plan. A master plan (we don't get out of bed-or get off our plank- for anything less).
This afternoon, we have a workshop with 10 VIPs all having a say in the berry-process. They got invited through a hard copy invite, hand delivered by TISS to their offices at the beginning of this week (that's the way it works here for VIPs) and we'll be hosting them in our hotel.

The heat is on.
IBM needs to show its true colours. Today they'll be orange.
Time to start a new religion: Berry-ism.
All Hail to the berry!

Cultural smackdown

That's the way to describe the way I met Indian culture the past 2 days.In your face, up close and personal.

Foreseen pick up for Nubra Valley: Tuesday 7 am.
8:15 our party arrived.
The program: not really clear (what's new?).

The 5 of us (Driver Mr. Lobster, Jorgis, Ramesh, Clai and myself) in a tin 4x4 with worn out shock absorbers on our way for a 5 hour drive over the mountain.
I don't really have words to describe the journey... The first part was -besides very winding- OK.
But then we drove for about 2 1/2 hours over something that could be described as a very narrow, unpaved dust road with potholes all over.

You have to brace yourself, hang on to everything that doesn't move and can't sit back against the back of the seat as then you treat yourself to feeling the bumps and holes about 2 times more
Very very tiring.
The car wrecks of vehicles that made way for opponents -unsuccessfully- were scattered down the flanks of the mountain and didn't immediately provide comfort for a safe return.
The views on the other hand were amazing and that was a comfort as I thought these views could very well be the last views I ever laid eyes on.
We passed the highest motorable road in the world (almost 7000 meters: ice, snow, wind, tea) had a couple of stops along the way and finally arrived in a tiny tiny village.
Jorgis disappeared for about 1/2 an hour while Clai and I were the talk of the town: strange white people had been dropped. The Gods must be crazy.
I started getting grumpy as I got the message we were having no lunch today.
When Jorgis finally came back, he had dragged his cousin along who was rather sick (probably H1N1) but he told her it was better to get out of bed and make us some tea.
I had to refuse tea again (I have a tea-trauma ever since I was 5 and have to kindly turn down tea here about 8 times a day - people don't understand).
After a school visit (We brought a box full of stuff we bought yesterday and had them drawing Seabuckthorn stories), a SB processing plant, another cousin's visit (water irrigation system) and a monastery tour (seabuckthorn sightings), we drove off (for another 2 hours).
Where to? Only God knew. And Ramesh. And Jorgis. And Mr. Lobster.
OK, basically the only ones in the dark were Clai and me...
The only thing we did get out of Jorgis about our destination was that we were probably going to sleep there tonight.
Let the guessing game begin! Is it a nice hotel? Massage and copious dinner awaiting? Is it a warm and inviting guest house, no tea included? A hot shower? Internet connection maybe?
No, we ended up at his mother's house and were put in the sitting area for...tea.
All I could think about by that time was food. Meanwhile a lot of stuff was happening in the background but we were completely left out (as we are guests).
It turned out they had gone to the market (for a freshly slaughtered chicken) and Ramesh would cook it.
Get a move on Ramesh!!!
Not thinking about all potential stomach and belly complications ahead we had a great meal.
With very welcoming people: Jorgis mother and sister in law, who did think that adopting a donkey and drinking water instead of tea was not really a very normal thing to do.

The surroundings and the humble home are so far off from anything we're used to.
I can only describe with the help of visual support (and orally later on).
(see movie of my room, walk down to the dry toilet and the dinner)

After dinner: straight to bed. Which was for me: a plank with a blanket on it as mattress,
the family's Japanese pillow (which had a stone in it or sth cause half way through the night I thought I was about to loose my ear cause it ached like hell), and some thick dusty but warm blankets. Besides the ear-falling-off-condition, I had a great night.

Rise and shine for a new day.
And that new day didn't bring a bucket bath for a change but a hand pump down the garden.
(I don't think I'm that dirty today, I might skip this one)
And of course the new day also brought more of the same: driving around.
First stop: sand dunes (And camels. But they were on strike). Lots and lots of Seabuckthorn in the sand dunes and we convinced innocent tourists to try after giving them the full SB 101.
After that, we went to a monastery where we witnessed a Buddhist ceremony (secret footage attached) and had tea in the monks' kitchen (not me).
Some leftovers along the way later, I cursed myself for eating them right before driving back. But in any case: I did have lunch today.

Still totally overwhelmed by what happened, need to process a bit now.
Back in isolated Leh, with on and off internet connection, with my bucket bath and night time
only electricity, I feel like a queen, living a life of luxury.




Video-footage to follow - connection too slow...