Troubles in Paradise

When Pakistan and India became independent, Kashmir had already some sovereignty. The Maharajah was Hindu, but the majority of the population was Muslim. 1947 the Maharajah had to make a decision in choosing to join either Pakistan or India Before he reached a decision, a Pakistani militia invaded Kashmir and started a small pro-Pakistan rebellion. Indian forces came to the Maharajahs defence and got aided by most Kashmiris, who actually wanted to stay independent from the two giants. When the fight was over and the Kashmiris thanked for the help and wanted the Indians to withdraw, the Indians were like "nhaa.. We think we'll stay for a while." and the Maharaja signed a treaty with India. India controlled now most of Kashmir, except for the north-western parts which Pakistan had taken and a small part which China had taken. Since then, there has been constant problems in this area, with two major wars between Pakistan and India; one between India and China. Terrorist acts from mainly Muslim groups, pushing either for independence or joining Pakistan, usually hitting Hindu people in the southern regions and in India mainland. The Indian military has many times been worse then the militants they look for, accused for abductions, torture and discriminating the Muslim population.

2008: Some places in Kashmir have highly significance to the Hindu faith and many Hindus make pilgrimage every year to these sites, often being targeted by Muslim terrorists. This year the Shrine board, controlling land in holy Hindu sites, bought some land in Kashmir and this caused big reactions amongst the Muslim population. By the treaty with India, a law exists that forbids non-Kashmirirs to buy Kashmir land. So big protest and riots were made in the capital of Srinigar and in the country side. In the end they won their cause and the land purchase was revoked. So now, in the second biggest city, Jammu, with a predominantly Hindu population, big demonstrations and strikes were called. Also Muslim people started to get attacked by Hindu mobs and big religious clashes starting to accure everywhere in Kashmir.

This is when I'm coming from Kargil in Ladhak, crossing pine tree covered mountains down to Srinigar in Kashmir. My first impression is how much this looks like Switzerland, and that's also what Indians call this place, little Switzerland. With it's many flowers and wildlife, this has been called a paradise by people who has been here. It is very beautiful, but there is a massive military presence. Driving down the road, endless military convoys pass by and there are a couple of guards every half kilometre of the road down to Srinigar. When I finally got there, I didn't notice too much tension, even though so many soldiers and police. I managed to search up my recommended house boat between 1500 of them. The Dal Lake is located in the city and thus Srinigar has many canals and waterways. By the big lake you can stay in a house boat which is a nice experience. Most traffic is by gondola type boats and it's pretty good to have most business coming to you this way. As you sit on the porch, the convenience store (in it's true sense) comes floating by, the grilled lamb man, the tailors, etc, etc. Even the garbage collector comes by every second morning. Lot's of birds hang around here, kingfishers, ducks, geese and hundreds of eagles flying high above. Can life be any more easy? I submit that it can not!

The next morning Sharon arrived. Her bike is in a bad condition and it had to be transported to Srinigar where it could be fixed. A strike had been called to day, but some shops where still open. Walking down the city to find the place where the truck driver would drop the bike off, you could feel the tension in the air. At times people told us to go back, and up, further along the road we saw police with shields and bamboo sticks being hailed by rocks. After a while they had some protesters dispersed by tear gas, but the casualty was one police man holding his eye with blood flowing through his fingers. These incidents happened a bit here and there and it felt a bit aqward strolling by and asking the police for directions where to pick up the bike, while they and their colleges had just been into battle. Finally finding the place where the bike would be dropped, we sat down and waited and had a chat with a few military men and civilians. A small truck drove by on the opposite road, it was filled with men carrying sticks, and they threw rock and harassed any still opened shop and drove away. I asked one guy why the police doesn’t do anything, he pointed at the police man sitting next to me 'ask him!. Clearly, the police are a bit scared and/or reluctant to escalate the tension with the extremists. When the bike finally came, it had to be locked up in the shop. No work could be done today.

The next 2 days were similar tension in Kashmir. Protests, shops closed and clashes with police. I couldn't resist taking the camera down and follow a minor clash between police and protesters. I was very comical. The police seemed to adopt the tactic off being as disorganised as the ones they were fighting. Some police would spontaneously charge, but looking back and seeing no one had followed and had to run back. Both sides throwing as many stones at each other, with the line of control moving up and down. It all looked similar to the western front in WW1, lot's of shouting and screaming, teargas canisters being thrown back and forth, but nothing really accomplished. Me and some media in the middle of it all taking pictures. Finally the police retreated up to the intersection to the armed vehicle and secured that area. Victory shouts and dancing on burning tires on the protesters camp.

Finally Sharon managed to sort out her bike, which was quite funny because women drivers are unheard of up here. I took some time before they understood that there were no third person driving the second bike, she was driving the bike. One guy turned to me with a surprised look 'She can drive a motorcycle? Like, I mean, a long distance???'. 'Yes my friend' I said, 'She is well trained". With Sharon’s bike fixed, I took mine to another mechanic, Mr Hassan, to fix some minor stuff... I thought... in reality, I opened up a can of worms. Trying to fix the annoying sound I've had, we finally discovered that it came from the crank pin. Opening up the whole engine, we saw that the pin, instead of having a nut, had been welded on. A real blue peter badge! The welding had come undone and metal pieces where floating around in the engine. This would take time and money to fix and Srinigar at the moment was not the best place to do it. Tip nr2: Don't fix your bike in a notorious conflict zone!

The next day the situation had escalated. People in Jammu had blocked the road to Srinigar and stopping all trucks, even killing four Muslim drivers. This road is the life line to Srinigar and now people here started to get really pissed off... and hungry! A curfew was called in all Kashmir and Jammu and the minor incidents that acured in Srinigar, spread all over the city. From our house boat we could hear and see at the distance, fighting with police and tear gas shells exploding. This was not a minor clash as I had seen, but major ones with live rounds occasionally fired. In a big protest, thousands of Kashmiris was going to walk the road to Pakistan as to say that they had enough of India and wanted to join the Pakistanis. They were stopped on the way and shot at, killing 27 people and hundreds wounded. The hospitals in Srinigar were over filled and on local TV they were asking for medicine and any assistance that could be provided. The next 2 weeks was like this. Curfews and strikes, very few shops opened sometimes. Down at the boat house things were very good. I had been recommended a very nice family and they took care of us very well. The lake was like a safe haven and things were calm, the days with curfew I spent playing games with the boys and reading, very relaxing. When there was 'just' a strike, but you could walk the streets, I and Hassan drove around looking for spare parts and a leth man to put the engine back together. Driving through the city was like being in a war zone. On the roads, burnt vehicles were still smoking and masses of people were chanting slogans and stuff. We came in to a street and lot's of people started shouting at us. The thing is that I look very Hindu and if not that, then I look Israeli... both nationalities not very popular here! Two guys on a motorcycle stopped us on the way and Hassan told me 'STop! stop stop!' All of a sudden I was surrounded by 30-40 people with various home-made weapons and shouting at me at an unknown language. I looked back and Hassan had disappeared! I saw him in the crowd looking at me with huge eye's and thought 'F%^K!!!' I could just visualize him telling the crowd 'I didn't know he was Hindu. Let's get him!'. I looked around trying to guess the most leader type I could find, and told them that I didn't understand what they were saying and that I was a tourist. Hassan was saying to the crowd that I was English! The crowd kept on jabbering in some language, but finally a man with big al-Qaeda beard and white robe asked me in English were I was from and I said Sweden. He said 'It's ok, you can go' and started to push away the crowd with some other fellows. Hassan jumped back on the bike and we made distance, fast... I can look like many nationalities and in India I melt in very well, which is good for not being harassed by sellers and getting local prices to places. But here, it is defenatly a disadvantage with Muslim mobs wanting to give me stone showers and police wanting to perform bamboo massages. Usually they catch on pretty quick that I'm not local, but still.

At the end, after two weeks of drama. We managed to sort the bike out and finding a gap when there was a 3 day break from strikes, and we headed off!

Note: At the time of writing, the Hindu protests (which was done all over the country) gave results and the government agreed to give the land back again to the Hindu Shrine board. Happy feelings in Jammu, but in Srinigar, I can just imagine a massive conflict arising.

Bob, Zanskar and Demon Swordsmen!

After driving around the areas close to Leh, Sharon and me decided it was time to leave and head towards Kargil and then Zanskar Valley. The way up was nice and the road good and we spent 2 nights in a small town called Lamayuro. Here lays the oldest monastery in Ladhak, and as usual, nicely situated on a cliff. A big shot Lama was here for 4 days to give teachings and the monastery was packed with people. The teachings were in them selves good, but with a all dead time for translations from Tibetan to English and Ladaki, even a senior monk sitting in the honors podium fell asleep. Me and Sharon had no chance, after I woke her up, we tip toed our way out.

We headed on north to the bigger town of Kargil, a place situated very close to the disputed line between Pakistan and India. This town was artillery shelled a few years ago in the so called 'Kargil war'. As soon as we came near Kargil, the people, architecture and religion changed from Ladhakian Buddhist to Muslim. Nice white and brown monasteries, to turquoise and pink mosques. Signs are mostly in Arabic and it felt a bit like being back in Egypt. In the entrance of town is already posters with old Khomeini, as the population is mainly Shia Muslim here. Inside the town is many similar posters with other old men with turbans and white beard. We stayed here only one night, checking up the bikes. Next morning we started our journey towards Zanskar Valley. If Ladhak, at least until a few years ago, was a isolated part of the world, Zanskar is the essence of it. This Valley can only be reached during the few summer months, as the road can be opened. During the winter it's almost totally isolated, reachable only by foot and Yak. The road was the most horrible I ever been on. I'm sure the Romans must have built better roads! The dreaded Manali - Leh road was a new built auto-bahn in comparison to this! After 5-6 hours drive, we made 70km and got off with the heads still shaking!

We met a climbing expedition team in a small guest house where we spent the night. The nearby mountains of Nun and Kun attracts top climbers, but one group of climbers had been a bit careless and 2 disappeared, one was found frozen. The had been told by the guide to come down from base came because the weather had started to turn bad, but going against his instructions and also ignoring the guidelines, the wanted adventure and stayed. They knew the risks, up to them. Now the expedition was there to collect them but also to train some local youth in proper climbing techniques, to make them future guides.

The next day the trip to Zanskar went on. The landscape here is breathtaking and after being jaded a bit from Leh areas, this was really nice. But the bad road made it hard to concentrate on the surrounding's. You need an eye all the time on the way looking for a way around rocks and holes, crossing big water streams and avoiding trucks and jeeps. Preferably honking a bit just in case, sometimes the drivers fall asleep and can hit you without knowing. Some people Sharon met had been in a jeep were the driver snoozed off and drove off the road, luckily not at a drop off, and they came away only with cuts and bruises. Driving a Royal Enfield can be really great, but it can also be a royal head ache. Apart from some oil on the spark plug in the mornings and a slight knocking noise, Vaselia has been running really great the whole time. Bob has been having some difficulties with the gears that keep slipping off, but still it's manageable and we keep moving forwards. Time to time you have to make an annoying stop at the police check post. It is totaly useless, they just want to fill in anything in the papers because they know it doesn't really matter. One police asked me what registration number the bike had. I couldn't really hear or understand him, so I asked "Registration?" He started filling in 'R-E-G-R-I...' on the papers.

Reaching Karsha, a village with a big monastery near the main town of Padum, we found a really nice family whom we could stay with. There's also a whole bunch of hyper active kids, fingering and looking at everything we did, a big annoying if they weren't so lovable. The house had also a perfect view of the monastery and the surrounding valley, which was specially nice at night time. The only thing was that we had to park the bikes near the main square, which was crowded with small kid with nothing better to do then climbing, pulling, pushing and jumping on every inch of Vasilia! Every time I came within sight of the bike, I had shoo away some kids before they would pull a 180kg Enfield on top of their heads!

We seemed to have come at the right time The next day was a 2 day festival at the monastery with masked dances and night time festivities in the village. We went to to see the festival in the monastery, which had much much less visitors and tourist and no charges for front seats or whatever. The dances were much like the one in Hemis that I had seen before, with impressive costumes and a lot of Buddhist symbolism. But instead of small monks with bamboo sticks, whipping people from coming to close, was a Demon swordsman (with a real sword) with a scarf over his face, drawing lines in on the ground but constantly having to smack people a bit with the steel to move them. I was sitting on the main stairs where the actors/dancers were coming down, and around me sat some other people also trying to squeeze up against the sid to not be in the way. The demon swordsman homed in on us. Spanking away people around me, he surprisingly left me squeezed against the stone wall and didn't touch me. Great! I had a nice spot for taking pictures, almost to close as the dancers almost smacked and stept on me as they danced down the stairs. The demon swordsman walked over to me again. This time he bent forward a said "Claudio, you remember me? Tenzin Lekshey?". "Yeeaaaa!!" I lied, I had no clue... They are all named Tashi, Tenzin, Dolma etc.. But after the dances were over he came up to me again and I saw who it was. One of my athletes from the Tibetan Olympics in McLeod G. I knew he was a monk, but not that he was sword swinging old ladies and not that he was staying here. It turns out that the house we are staying with in is also part of his family! Small world they say...

Zanskar valley is something else. Off the beaten track, the villages are still quite untouched, but very soon they probably will be bombarded with internet, Kashmiri souvenir shops, restaurants and the usual tourist things. This because a road is being built to link the Valley with Manali. Then it will be easier and faster even to come here, then Leh. This is really good for the people living here in isolation and bring them closer to Buddhist Ladahk instead of the administration from Muslim Kargil.

Having some time on our hands, we thought about finding a mechanic and fix Bob's gearbox problems. In the town of Padum, we found a man some people called a mechanic, but he didn't want to touch the bike. Instead the was a group of other willing men to help, that hallways through the operation said "No, we are not mechanics, but we like to fix things our selves!" As you can understand, the gearbox ended up 10 times worse and as icing on the cake, they gave Bob a very strange and bad sound coming from the engine. We had to change his name from Bob to Crazy Frog because of that.
So tip nr1: Don't give your bike to be fixed by local farm boys!
Bob never made the drive back home to Karcha and had to be left by the side of the road... Big bummer! The only solution was to put him on a truck and send him back to Kargil and, hopefully, fix him there. Sharon took the bus.