Don't follow me, I'm lost too

Up until 2 hours ago, we had no clue whatsoever about any schedule for the days to follow. Just go with the Indian flow.
But all of a sudden, things are shaping up.

If the Gods are with us (Whatever God you prefer. Hey, we're open minded), this is what the calendar for the coming days looks like:

• Pick up tonight at 7 for the Leh Festival
  
• Indian food
  
• Tomorrow: Leave for Nubra Valley via the highest motorable road in the world (motion sickness pills within reach)
• More Indian food (though combining that with the car might not be one of my better ideas)
  
• Stay in Nubra Valley for our project and field research til Wednesday with a -yes- busy agenda: visit local farmers, women's collective, local school, government agency and forest conservation fund
• Some more Indian food
  
• Thursday: workshop in Leh with representatives from each of our stakeholders
• Let's go for Indian tonight
  
• Friday: Fly back to Mumbai
• Indian anyone?
  
• Saturday-Sunday-Monday (bank holiday): Colleagues back in Mumbai have started a small IBM travel agency and are arranging weekend trips to escape city life: Fly to Delhi, drive to Agra (Taj Mahal) and Jaipur

Delhi, bring me a big fat burger please...

The mountain and the donkey

Yesterday, I noticed this fun sign in the center of Leh: "Come and have fun at the only sanctuary for helpless donkeys."
Today: Sunday. Just had breakfast. What to do?
Donkey retreat it is!

An hour into the walk.
No, let me rephrase.
An hour into something I would be more inclined to call an intensive trek in the mountains, a hike for advanced...well, hikers, steep uphill all-the-time! At high altitude. I dare you!
So, an hour into the thing, small update on the vital signs (small as practically no vital signs were left):

• Heartbeat: 298
• Blood: pumping in my head
• Breathing: what breathing?
  

(the above might be a slight exaggeration and misrepresentation of the truth...)

At that point, we passed a green bit of land where a couple of donkeys were grazing.
Hallelujah we have arrived. We made it! And I survived. My reward: donkeys. And some nice grass. Good enough for me.
But when I tried convincing Clai we had arrived (Cool this sanctuary! Look at all the donkeys! Woo-hoo! Picture time.), he wasn't too sure. So, on our merry way we went. Again.
Every person we stopped to ask about a donkey sanctuary seemed clueless. And on top of that looked quite amused, when they understood us that is. We learned afterwards that donkeys are in the lowest caste of animals and not exactly loved in the holy-cow-country.

Almost 3 hours after we left and three scattered arrows later, we found... Donkey Heaven (update on vitals: body had gone into the automatic pilot mode by now so, feeling tip top. Dixie, sign me up for your next expedition).
The sign says it all (but I'll recap): Donkeys are left out on the street after they served their purpose, get weak, get bitten by dogs, whipped and kicked by people, ... not your ideal scenario. But then comes along...their ride to paradise: The bus to donkey sanctuary where they get shelter, get fed and can hang out with friends. What's not to love about that?
So, we hung out with the donkey daddy and his protegees.
They all seemed to be in good shape except for one poor fellow, locked in a shed, that got hit by a car and couldn't get up because of the broken bones and wounds. He didn't even seem to have an appetite (some grass? no thanks).
But then -idea- I still have a bar of Belgian chocolate and a Tootsie Roll (thanks Sue - I saved it for a special moment). And that went down very smoothly. (although Tootsie roll caramel did take some time..)

After a nice donation -they actually wanted to offer me a baby donkey in return- I felt cool as a cucumber and ready to walk down. Donkeys rule.
Whenever you're in the Ladakhi mountains, make sure to pay them a visit.

'The greatness of a nation can be determined by the way its animals are treated.' - Mahatma Ghandi



PS - about another 100 donkey pictures available.

Photographic evidence

A picture's worth a thousand words.
Brace yourself cause you're in for quite a read: 111000 words to be precise.
So, on the count of three: One, two … see
(with comments)

The good, the bad and the Friday

• Bucket bath
• Breakfast
• 10:30 pickup
• No internet connection at the office
• Meeting with local entrepreneur (Ashram)
• Communal home cooked lunch at the office
• Meeting with the project officer of the Government of Jammu & Kashmir
• Drink some Seabuckthorn juice
• Wander around local market
• Curse the (none existing) internet connection at the hotel
  

Just your typical Friday in Leh.

The office and the monastery

Thursday, September 10

Clai is still in a man on man fight with altitude sickness. The dry mountain desert is not agreeing with him.
No breakfast for our American friend. At this rate he’ll be vanished by the end of our assignment.
On our way to work, we stopped for some medication to help him in his fight against the evil mountain decease. The end is near. (of him being sick that is)

The TISS offices in Leh, are situated in a beautiful domed building. After our meeting in Mumbai with the professor, lots of insight from expert and program director Jorghesh and a meeting with our colleagues Titiksja, Ramesh and Tashi today, we identified a number of areas we’ll be working on:
• The empowerment and enablement of local people
• Identification of SB applications to focus on (based on revenue and value)
• Buy in of local people involved in the value chain
• Creation of identification parameters for partners (both fair trade and commercial)
• Recommendations for optimization of supply chain
• Creation of an information kit
• Line up a branding strategy
• Partner negotiations

One traditional Ladakhi lunch later, a big moment of truth awaited: a field trip to meet the source of it all: the Seabuckthorn berry. (see other post)
It grows in the wild on thorny shrubs, only the female plant bears berries and after tasting them, I can confirm: they taste bitter.

Later on that day, Jorgesh took us to a Buddhist monastery, beautifully laid out on a mountainside. A very serene and spiritually loaded environment that made for a very special experience. Something to share later, face to face.


After numerous unsuccessful attempts to connect to the outside world (hey, who’s still trying?), we went for dinner at an outdoor restaurant.
Bit chilly (we áre in the mountains) but the open fire, the veggie food and the Bollywood movie ‘Luck’ (oh my G… the drama of it all!) made up for it.
The bill didn’t hurt too much either: 230rp (about 4,5€ for 2).

Thanks Vanessa for the winter sports coat, it was put to good use.

Bucket bath

I admit.
After non existing mobile coverage, electricity that only comes on at night and failing internet connection, I had little faith in having hot water in the morning.
The idea of having to wash my hair with cold water in a slightly less tropical surrounding, didn’t exactly sound very appealing.
I approached the bucket bath (*) hesitantly and realized I had jumped to conclusions too fast: Warm water was my share.

Let the bucket bath singing begin!

(*) see picture (you figured that out, right).
Instructions: one fills the large bucket with water , one then pours the water over one's self with the small cup :-)

Introducing: "the berry"

And here it is: the one thing we travelled all the way to India for, the subject of many research papers, the diversification of livelihoods for the Ladhak Region.
Drum roll....
Seabuckthorn (or Tsermand, or Tsetsalulu or Shibshululu).
We met with it today, up close and personal, live and in person.