Saturday 30 October 2010

Icebreakers, ice, sledge dogs and penguins.

United States Coast Guard Ice Breaker Burton Island 283. A ship with a proud history in the annals of modern  Polar Expeditions.  Photo: Bob McKerrow

"Let's take the dogs out for a run, and see if we can link up with the Coast Guard ice breaker," said Chris Knott. "What ice breaker ? " I replied. " I heard from an American yesterday that an ice breaker is  about 20 miles from McMurdo and should be here in a few days." This was November 1969 when Chris and I were at Scott Base in Antarctica. Chris was the dog handler and I was a science technician, and I used to run the second dog team for Chris. Here are a few photos and jottings.



We hitched up two teams of dogs, 12 on each team, and soon were speeding across the ice of McMurdo Sound and on our right the long finger of the Hut Point Peninsula with Castle Rock dominating, a good place to take a bearing off. The dogs were yelping with joy, having their first run for 5 days. Chris' team was pulling away from me, as I shouted to Mike and Kulak to pull harder.. We passed the winter quarters of Scott and then could see the Erebus Glacier Tongue in the distance, a good bearing en route to Cape Evans.

Mike and Kulak, Scott Base huskies. During the summer of 1969-70, they were the two best dogs on my team. Chris Knott used Rangi as his lead dog. Photo: Bob McKerrow



Chris Knott and his dog team were in front of me and I had to urge Kulak and Mike to pull harder, to catch up. Photo: Bob McKerrow

We glided across the sea ice, conscious of all that history of Scott, Shackleton, Mawson, Crean, David, Wilson, Oates, Bowers, Hillary, Bob Miller and all.......We had been travelling about 30 minutes, when we picked up an object on the horizon. It must be the Burton Island. The dogs got the scent of something, lifted their tails and pulled like Colin Meads with someone tugging his jersey. Having something on the horizon is what Antarctic huskies loved, as it gave them something to pull towards and they could pick up some smells of food. As we drew nearer we could make out the outline of a ship, and the sea ice was transmitting and amplifying the sound of the huge roaring engines of the ice breaker.

We put the sledge brakes on, slowed the dogs down and parked about 100 yards away. The dogs were in a frenzy. I walked round and gave them a little bit of 'how's your Father,' to quell the riot. Rangi licked my boots in an act of mock submission. By this time the crew had spotted us, the first sign of human life for some weeks. A bunch of icebreakermen thronged the rails and yelled at us, " Crazy Kiwi's" and invited us aboard. Not being able to resist, I shouted out, "Can we bring the dogs, and they drink only Jack Daniels?"

We  staked the dogs to the ice very firmly, and they stopped the ice breaker, so we could climb up a ladder.Once aboard in the fuggy lounge, the ship started breaking ice, a big push forward, ram the ice, make a gain of 20 to 30 yads, then everse back and start the big push forward again. This monotonous routine went on day in and out, and turned the men into zombies, anticipating the ram, when they broke in a quickstep routine, and grabbed something firm, to stop them being flung across the room.

We had a few Jack Daniels, some food, and then back to the dogs. In those days there were no rules about drinking and driving at Scott Base, so we untied the dogs and headed back to the Base, so pleased we were young, carefree Kiwis, and not Navy Icebreakermen. I suppose that was something I appreciated in the leadership at Scott Base in those days. Bruce Willis, would test us all, give us little by little, more responsibility. Woe and betide if you broke his trust: no dog trips, no perks and punishment only a school principal can mete out. It was a great summer for me, sledging with Chris Knott and the dogs, accompanying scientists on their field work, rock climbing at Castle Rock under the midnight sun, skiing on the old rope tow, accompanying field parties of drop offs to remote parts of Antarctica so I would know the terrain in case of rescue, and our scientific work at Scott Base. Only 21 and all that responsibility .Another memorable dog sledge trips was to Cape Evans and Cape Royds, where we saw the historic huts of Scott and Shackleton, the penguin colony. But, a little about the Burton Island.



USS Burton Island (AG-88) was a United States Navy Wind-class icebreaker that was later re-commissioned as a United States Coast Guard icebreaker, USCGC Burton Island.


Burton Island was laid down on 15 March 1946 at the San Pedro shipyard of the Western Pipe and Steel Company, launched on 30 April, and commissioned 28 December with the identifier AG-88. She was named after an island near the coast of Delaware.

On 17 January 1947, Burton Island, loaded with supplies, steamed from San Diego to Ross Sea, Antarctica where it met with units of TF 68 on the first Antarctic Development project, Operation Highjump. After returning from Antarctica, Burton Island departed 25 July 1947 for the Point Barrow expedition to Alaska. From April 1948 to December 1956, Burton Island participated in 19 Arctic and Alaskan cruises, including Operation Windmill. Duties on the cruises varied including, supply activities, helicopter reconnaissance of ice flows, scientific surveys, underwater demolition surveys, and convoy exercises. In March 1949, Burton Island was designated AGB-1.


Burton Island, Atka (AGB-3), and Glacier (AGB-4) pushing an iceberg out of the channel in the "Silent Land" near McMurdo Station, Antarctica, 29 December 1965.

On 15 December 1966, the Navy transferred the vessel, along with all of its icebreakers, to the United States Coast Guard and it was renumbered WAGB-283. After its transfer, Burton Island was stationed at Long Beach, California and used for icebreaking operations. Starting in 1967 through 1978, Burton Island went on eight different Deep Freeze operations to the Antarctic. In the operations, Burton Island was responsible for creating and maintaining aids to navigation, clearing channels through the ice for supply vessels, and various other activities. In addition to Deep Freeze operations, Burton Island served as a floating platform for scientific surveys and research around Alaska and other isolated polar areas. Burton Island also conducted numerous SAR missions.

From October 1967 to April 1968 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '68. From October 1968 to April 1969 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '69. From November 1969 to April 1970 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '70 and her accompanying icebreaker was disabled. From November 1970 to April 1971 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '71 and again the accompanying icebreaker was disabled. From August to September 1971 she conducted an oceanographic survey along North Slope, Alaska. From February to March 1972 she conducted a scientific survey in Cook Inlet, Alaska. From November 1972 to April 1973 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '73. From June to July 1973 she conducted oceanographic research in Alaskan waters. From November 1974 to April 1975 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '75. From 13 November 1975 to 26 February 1976 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '76. From July to September 1976 she deployed to the Arctic. From 9 November 1976 to 7 April 1977 she participated in Operation Deep Freeze '77.

She was decommissioned on 9 May 1978. I was honoured be on this ice-breaker even if only for a hour or more as she rammed, ploughed and broke Antarctic ice.


Two of the best: Rangi (left) and Oscar (right) 1969 Scott Base. Photo: Bob McKerrow


After heated newspapers debates in January 1986 when the DSIR’s Antarctic Division announced they were pulling the huskies out of Antarctica, not a lot has been written about them since.  If you want to read more anout the New Zealand huskies in Antarctica, see this article I write: http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-antarctic-huskies-from-scott-base.htm
In this article I attempt to give the full history of huskies that lived at Scott Base and played such a vital role in surveying and exploring the New Zealand sector of Antarctica.

I loved the different shapes of the ice and photographed the best. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Chris Knott looking down on the US McMurdo Base from Observation Hill. Photo: Bob McKerrow




Penguins at Cape Royds. Photos: Bob McKerrow

Friday 29 October 2010

My favourite village in the Western Himalaya - Sidhbari


Sidhbari, Himachal Pradesh looking at the Dhaula Dhar mountains. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Over the years I have visited Sidhbari at many times and I am planning to go back in mid-November.
My first visit in July 2003 left a huge imprssion on me, so much that I have been back eight times. Here is what I wrote in my diary:

I got back Tuesday night from Sidhbari in Himachal Pradesh where one of my friends, Anuj Bahri, (bookseller and publisher) has a house overlooking the Dhaula Dhar mountains, Norbulinka Tibetan Institute, Gyuto Monastery and only 30 minutes from Dharamsala and 50 minutes from McLeod Ganj. A very famous Hindu temple is nearby on a river bank and not far away is the Chinmaya Mission Trust where Swami Chinmayananda, a very enlightened Swami, lived until his death.

Anuj's house also overlooks a spread-eagled slate-roofed village surrounded by beautifully sculptured rice fields on sickle-shaped terraces. Women in bright coloured clothing often or not yellow and red, work in the fields.


Anuj's house in Sidhbari. Fresh snow has just fallen on the Dhaula Dar mountains. Photo: Bob McKerrow

It was fun to travel and live with Anuj for a few days in an Indian village where you have the 'real local village people' living side by side with 'the pretenders' - artists, writers and other interesting people who have left big city life behind to come to the tranquillity of this green, fertile mountain region to write, paint and find the 'truth,' or to get screwed up in thought and mind by not finding it.

But like every house in India, you need a Bamri: cook, watchman and bottle washer, who brings a character of Baldrick proportions into the household. A Sad Sack figure with sallow cheeks and missing teeth, looking as if he is in the advanced stages of TB. However Anuj assures me he is not ill, but has made a skeleton of himself through his regular encounters with local village women who cheat him of his hard-earned money, with the promise of marriage. His first wife deserted him and the proposed second, ran away with his money. Now he is on the prowl for a third.

Bamri; bumbling, clumsy and likeable, brought a sense of humour that only a hill village man can do.

The day after I arrived I met Rikhy Ram who worked 26 years in the Indian army intelligence service as a photographer on border patrols and spent most of his time in the mountain region of Bhutan, Sikkim, North Eastern Indian border areas and these local mountains.



 Rikhy Ram right, me on the left, studying maps of the region Photo: Anuj Bahri

On 8 and 9 March 1959 Rikhy was in Tawang Gompa when the 14th Dalai Lama crossed from Tibet into Arunchal Pradesh via Bhimla. He was part of the group that ensured the team crossed safely. I later found out that the 6th Dalai Lama was born in Tawang Gompa which is now inside India and not far from the border of Bhutan.

He later spent 3 years on the Tibetan border between 1973 and 75. He climbed 3 peaks in Bhutan, Chomolasari, 23,997 feet, not far from Phari Dzong, which is across the border in Tibet, He also did the first ascent of two other smaller peaks, Kungphu 22,300 ft, Chachiphula 20,702 ft(formerly called Yala) and Wagyala (20, 163 ft).

It seems his work was intelligence of a sort, or as I would say in my parlance the 'modern great gamer'; checking the borders between the Tibet/China and Bhutan and India, getting good photographic information. In later life he worked in Himachal Pradesh in the Pir Panjal and Dhuala Dhar, mapping mountains on foot and through aerial surveys. Interestingly enough, he was in the Congo from 61 to 63 and was a member of the search and rescue mission which helped bring the body of Dag Hammarskjöld, the then Secretary of the UN, from Angola back to Leopoldville. He also spent four month in New York and I am sure he wasn't working for McDonald's although Kohli in his book 'Spies in the Himalayas' would believe this suggestion.

Anuj and I had lunch with Rikhy in his home where he lovingly brought out old and worn maps of all the areas he had worked in and the maps were neatly, and lovingly, made into a book, and all carefully arranged and numbered. The maps on Bhutan were particularly interesting with all the places he stayed and visited, the peaks he climbed and the routes he took, all neatly marked in red dotted lines.

As he unfolded the maps, he unfolded his past locked in his heart and mind for years. Sharing journey's with a fellow mountain wayfarer over a map doesn't need a common verbal language because maps and markings tell a story visually. Remnants of curries and dahl had in mountain camps were evident by the stains on the map which only added to the inuendo behind the intrigue. I am sure no one will ever know precisely what Riky did. Maybe he didn't know exactly the nature of his missions, planned in Lurgan Sahib's house in Shimla.



The Dhaula Dhar mountains dominate

Not far from Anuj's house lives Khosa and his wife Lakshmi, a famous Indian artist, A Kashmiri pandit, whose painting represent the journey and transition from this life to the metaphysical and he gets a lot of his inspiration from the Upanishards,(sp) early Hindu literature and Rumi the famous Islamic Sufi poet. Anuj's immediate neighbour is a Gorkha, Onkar, whose grandparents moved from Nepal to Himachal Pradesh. On the first night we arrived an impromptu party started as Onkar arrived, then Khosa. At first Onkar turned up at his nose at the wine I had brought, saying "that's a woman's drink, we drink whiskey or rum here."

But as the night wore on, there were lots of empty bottles of the "women's drink" I had brought from my local wine shop in Delhi as Khosa drifted into a spirit-inspired trance where in front of our eyes, he made a transition journey to the metavinacal, a journey even Bachhus would have envied. In his trance, we couldn't communicate with him and Anuj had to escort him home to ensure night-flying Nun's from the nearby Tibetan Monastery, didn't capture his Hindu spirit.

We spent one day going to Dharamsala and onto McLeod Ganj where the Dalai Lama lives. Dharamsala is a typical dirty hill town but once you leave the town, and climb up towards McLeod Ganj, the landscape becomes quite spectacular when looking down to the lowland rice fields shrouded in morning mists, and then upwards, nestled on a tree-clad ridge at over 7,000 feet, is McLeod Ganj, the residence of the 14 th Dali Lama. We spent time at the Tsuglagkhung complex where the Dalai lama lives, visited the temple, watched the monks in their daily debating contests and generally imbibed the ambiance. For a head of state, a people who are exiled in a foreign country, the Tibetan's have established a powerful cultural and economic presence in this area.

However, I made the mistake of visiting the Norbulinka Monastry the day before which is a superb piece of Tibetan architecture, with a Japanese Buddhist influence which gives an air of tranquillity stemming from a combination of elements, the gardens and its trees, waterfalls, streams and the sky and recent rain puddles, and, at the end of a shady walk, is a wonderful temple with a huge golden Buddha. A photo of the Dalai Lama is placed over a covered pulpit from where he delivers sermons when he visits. The elevated situation of McLeod Ganj was impressive, but I found little of inspiration. Norbulinka radiated more of the aura I had expected.

Other interesting places close to Anuj's house in Sidhbari is a place called YOL, which stands for 'Your Own Lines' and was the place where Italian prisoners of war were transported to during the second world war. You can still see they houses build out of stone. Another special place not far from McLeod Ganj is a small English-built church called ' St John of the Wilderness.' It was built in 1853 and many famous soldiers, explorers and surveyors are buried here. James Bruce, Earl of and Elgin and Kilcardine K.T.G.C.B.G.M.S.I. VICEROY AND GOVERNOR GENERAL OF INDIA was buried here and a memorial erected by his wife.




























Throughout Himachal Pradesh, the women are usually dressed in bright colours. Photo: Bob McKerrow

A number of other young British soldiers in once bloody, now romantic battles of a past long gone, have either commemoration tablets of graves. One that I recall was Lieutenant R.D.Angelo 'who died at Wano, Wazirstan 30 November 1894 of wounds he received in action against the Mahsuds.' (I am sure many of their descendants are still rabble-rousers)

It took me back to the lines from Kipling

'A scrimmage in a border station -

A canter down some dark defile -

Two thousand pounds of education

Drops to a ten-rupee jezail -

The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,' Shot like a rabbit in a ride !


As I have worked, trekked and climbed in Pakistan, Afghanistan and India, I am fascinated by the mountain river systems. With partition, these mighty rivers had international boundaries pushed on them. Punjab - the land of five rivers were originally referred to as the Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Sutlej and Beas, but with partition, the Beas flows only in India, so to keep the name Punjab correct, Pakistan added a fifth river to replace the Beas, the Indus. I have crossed the Indus, Jhelum, Chenab and the Ravi, so it was a thrill to travel for more than an hour alongside one of the main tributaries to the Beas River, and to cross it twice to and from my trip to Sidhbari.

Wednesday 27 October 2010

Is he not the greatest living humanitarian ? Howard Harper

The last thing he would want is publicity, but former New Zealander Howard Harper, is at last getting some publicity for being one of the most committed humanitarians I have ever known. From Kabul with Love is an utterly unique book – it follows the adventures of New Zealander Howard Harper, as he embarks as a medical worker into Pakistan and Afghanistan.


The story is told through letters sent between Howard and Monika Harper, and Howard’s father, Auckland Pharmacist, Stan Harper.

Howard sets off as a young man in the 1950s first of all to Pakistan, and then to study medicine in England. In England he meets and marries a young nurse, Monika, before heading back to Pakistan – driving overland from England with a caravan in tow. Their adventures eventually take them to Afghanistan in the 1960s to work with the blind and provide relief aid.

What is remarkable about this book is the honesty of the letters. They reveal the human face of life in extremely challenging environments and of those at home in 1950s and 60s New Zealand.

Publication of this book coincides with Howard Harper being awarded the prestigious 2010 Augusta Award from Auckland Grammar School. Past winners have included many well-known New Zealanders, including Sir Ed Hillary.

For Castle Books, the other thing that has made this project unique is that it has been a truly international effort. Howard and Monika currently live in the UK. The compiler of the book, Howard and Monika’s daughter, Dr Faith Goldberg, lives in Israel. Meanwhile, the book is being published here in New Zealand and is printing in both NZ and the UK.

With an article about Howard appearing in The Listener this week, and other coverage surrounding his award, we’re looking forward to more people finding out about about this remarkable New Zealander and reading From Kabul with Love.


Parwan, an hour's drive from Kabul where Howard, Monika and children would have spent some family outings. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Here is the article which is running cover story this week (October 23 to 29 October 2010) in the New Zealand Listener. 

Why would a New Zealander want to have an Afghani passport? Clare de Lore profiles a remarkable eye surgeon who has dedicated his life to helping people


in one of the world’s most dangerous countries.

When Howard Harper filled out papers for his Afghani citizenship, the locals were astounded. Some laughed, others shook their heads. Whereas most Afghans he knew dreamed of leaving, the New Zealand eye surgeon and humanitarian was fighting to stay in the country he calls home.

The year was 2002. After decades of living and working in Afghanistan and surrounding countries, Harper had been offered a medal for his services to Afghanistan. During an audience with the Father of the Nation – previously the King – Harper pressed his case for citizenship and the passport he now proudly carries.

“I told the King, ‘I don’t want a medal, I want an Afghani passport,’” says Harper. “Because otherwise it is difficult to get in and out, and I don’t know when I might next be slung out. I did not want to be dependent on one person’s goodwill.

“After a long to-do, my name was published in the paper and finally there was an announcement in the newspaper and on the radio that Dr Harper had been given the passport and citizenship. I can vote, buy property, and I try to faithfully fulfil the obligations of a citizen.” He is one of only two foreigners granted this status.

Harper is one of New Zealand’s least-known but most impressive sons. Immaculately dressed at all times, this tall, silver-haired, modest son of Te Kuiti and Auckland displays all the grit, integrity and selflessness so admired in our better-known heroes.

During his time in central Asia, he’s seen the Russians invade and then retreat, the rise, demise and resurgence of the Taleban and the arrival of the American-led forces; he has funded and built eye hospitals, seen one of them destroyed and rebuilt it, built two schools, trained dozens of eye doctors and restored sight to many thousands of people.

Along the way, he married Monika, a Polish nurse who shares his passion for the poor. They’ve raised three daughters, in often primitive conditions. He has witnessed cruelty and kindness in equal measure and remains steadfast in his faith in God and human nature. He is loved by, and loves, the Afghan people.

Harper is currently in the UK where he has been, successfully to date, undergoing treatment for cancer. At nearly 80, he knows time is running out to complete his life’s work – his reaction is to simply work harder and faster. His sights are firmly set, health willing, on a return to Kabul.

His life has taken him a long way from Te Kuiti, where he was born in 1930 to Blyth and Esther Harper, his father a pharmacist and mother a teacher. The family moved to Auckland when Harper was a young boy, his father ­relocating his business to Karangahape Rd.

A bright but restless Harper left Auckland Grammar School after just two years’ secondary education. He found work in a large joinery factory where he “learnt quite a lot about bare-knuckle fighting with the other boys working there”. A building apprenticeship followed, and to this day Harper uses the experience acquired there alongside his surgical skills. After that came a stint in retail, including at two Auckland menswear stores. All the while, the young Harper was reading voraciously.



Dad gave me a book about a man called George Hunter, a Scotsman who lived all his adult life in China. That was fascinating for me. He spent his life helping people, especially in the Xinjiang province, and that inspired me.”

Harper persuaded a friend to accompany him on what was to become the trip of a lifetime. “I felt called to go to central Asia. At this point there were few openings, as the Russians had occupied most of central Asia, and the Chinese had taken over Xinjiang. The only open part was Afghanistan and northern Pakistan.”

In 1953, the two young Kiwis left Auckland on the Wanganella for Sydney, changed to a P&O liner headed for Bombay, and eventually made it to Karachi.

They headed to a language school in Muree, a hill station near Islamabad and set about learning Urdu. (Harper and his wife were later to learn Persian, Pashto, Russian and some Mongolian.)

An old Farsi man was persuaded to part with his trusty Sunbeam motorbike, giving the Kiwis the freedom to explore. “We headed up toward Gilgit on the north-western frontier and had a wonderful time sleeping in the old dak bunga­lows, like the old British India resting places. One night we ended up in Balakot. The next day we came across an old tribesman leading his horse, both of them lame. He pleaded with me to help him and his horse. I could do nothing for either of them.

“Then, across the river, the next thing that stirred me was a large hospital. I went in and found it full of leprosy patients, many of them with terrible deformities. There was a man trying to run the place and he told me it was an old British Empire Leprosy Relief Association hospital, abandoned by the British for several years. No one had come to help them since, apart from a small amount of money from the Government for food. There was no treatment, and I determined then that I would come back and help.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At 23, Harper headed to England, where he knew he had a better chance of being able to train as a doctor than he had of making the cut for New Zealand’s only medical school at the University of Otago. He says his decision to leave Auckland Grammar early was a mistake, as he lost valuable time coming up to speed to meet admission standards.

Kabuk, in winter 1996, home to the Harper family for so many years. Photo: Bob McKerrow

In addition to his medical studies in London, he studied Urdu at the School of Oriental and African Studies, as well as Islamic law. “I was always the odd one out during my student days, slightly older, and I had something the other students did not: a clear and detailed ambition.”

It was at this time he also found Monika – the love of his life and his closest medical partner. When Monika was six and her sister four, they lost their mother during World War II. They were on the run from the advancing Russians, packed tightly into a train, when Monika’s mother suffered a panic attack and was thrown off onto a platform. The little girls never saw her again and fended for themselves for a while, with some kindness from strangers, until reunited with their father after the war. Monika determined to help children throughout her life. She was in London, improving her English so she could work among the poor, when she and Harper met. Monika had already gained specialist nursing qualifications at London’s famed Moorfields Eye Hospital and persuaded Harper to specialise in eye surgery.

The following years were to be an adventure in some of the least explored parts of the world. Harper and his bride set off from England for Afghanistan in a second-hand diesel Land-Rover towing an old caravan.

“We moved slowly through the rich European panorama until we finally ran out of roads in eastern Greece. As we entered the unmade roads of Turkey, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan, we discovered Monika was pregnant with Naomi. I thought this was too much to ask of her, to bump along dusty miles with poor food and restless sleep, but she stuck it out.” Not so the caravan, which literally fell apart on the rocky trails. It was abandoned just before Christmas 1962, last seen in the desert outside Baghdad with camels gazing curiously into it.

Naomi was born soon after in New Zealand and was just six weeks old when Harper took up a position at Taxila Hospital in Iran with Norval Christy, a Harvard Medical School graduate who had set up a clinic to treat anyone needing help.

“We would start operating at three in the morning. It was too hot in the daytime – the temperature would be well over 100°F. There would sometimes be more than a hundred people who turned up, and that dictated our day. We stopped for breakfast at nine, having done 100 operations, and then saw about 400 more before lunch and a nap. It was hard work but also a joy to see a patient who has been blind for years suddenly see loved ones again.”

Cataracts affect more than half the people 50 and over living in central Asia. Harper says no one knows why they are so prevalent, but cataract operations have always dominated his work.

“We would do the operation, and then after two or three days we would send them away with thick spectacles so they could see again. Each operation took just five minutes, but that was before lenses – we were just removing cataracts. Later, inserting a lens, it took about 15 minutes.” At the end of his first full year working with Christy, Harper had notched up more than 1000 cataract operations, as well as other types of eye surgery.

The Noor Eye Hospital at Darulaman in Kabul was one of Harper’s biggest and earliest projects. Built in 1966, it was badly damaged in the 1990s and Harper has since rebuilt it. In 1973, while working at his shiny new hospital, Harper was accused of “anti-State activities”. There were to be major repercussions, and not just for Harper.


Kuchi nomads in Afghanistan in the Central Highlands.


“Over the years they realised we would not participate in bribery and corruption – we did not live up to the ideals of the country. The King’s Government of the time had a particularly difficult Prime Minister and he ordered us to leave the country. So we did, and just as we were leaving, we looked up and there was a plane lumbering along overhead. We found out this was taking the King to see an eye doctor I knew in London, a retinal specialist. The King had been playing ball with his grandson and been hit in the eye and it had haemorrhaged. Normally he would have come to me, but I was being slung out so he had to lumber along in an old Russian plane to see the doctor in London. He never got back to Afghanistan as King. There was a rebellion by his cousin Daoud, who took over the ­country as dictator.”

Within months Harper slipped back into Afghanistan, working with some Americans at a small university in Jellalabad. Most of the people he was working among were Muslim – a relationship that worked well, despite cultural and religious differences. Women and children were seen first, a practice unheard of in Afghanistan, but it paid off. He was respected within the community.


“At the time [the 60s and 70s] people were scared stiff of going out at night, but I said I never felt more safe in any country than travelling in Afghanistan at night. People asked me how that could be, and it was that everyone knew when I was travelling and where I was going. They have an amazing bush telegraph in which people pass information to one another alone the lines of ‘this Harper, he is going here and there’, and when you got to your final destination, there would be a crowd waiting to greet you.”

He thought he’d escaped Daoud’s attention but after about a year was discovered and thrown out again. He and his family went to Iran, where he worked as professor of ophthalmology at the Mashhad University medical school before moving to the UK in 1977. They spent 15 or so years there so their three daughters (Naomi, Joy and Faith) could attend secondary schools and experience Western culture.

Monika Harper has nothing but praise for the New Zealand Correspondence School, which saw the girls through their early schooling in central Asia. They would sometimes be set tasks, such as an essay about a day at the beach – none of the girls had seen a beach, so they would write instead about a night in the desert.

Monika says her husband always saw the UK move as temporary and continued his work in central Asia. “We would go to various regions of Pakistan during those years in England. Howard built a clinic in Gilgit, which is still operating today. He had six weeks’ annual holiday – we worked for four weeks and took a break in the other two.”

Harper took up a post as consultant ophthalmologist at the Kent and Sussex Hospital in Tunbridge Wells, established the first cataract day-surgery clinic there, and wrote texts in English and Urdu on ophthalmology still in use today.

Harper’s big break – the chance of a permanent return to central Asia – came when he saw, on television, Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceauşescu and his wife being shot. It was Christmas Day 1989.

“After that, I knew it was all over for the communists in central Asia. I knew if you could shoot a dictator like that and get away with it, the whole system would come down. I immediately formed what is Vision International [his registered charity]. I knew medical services would drop once they pushed the Russians out, and in many places there were none.”

He negotiated agreements – effectively permission to stay and work – in Pakistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. More were to follow covering Mongolia and Tashkent. Each agreement was worth about $1 million to the country concerned if Harper was allowed to get on with his fund-­raising, building and training.

After leaving the UK’s National Health Service in 1995, Harper was given surplus NHS equipment, which he transported to Mongolia through Russia. In the end, it was more trouble than it was worth, he says, laughing.

“Going via Russia was like being in a den of thieves. The truck, with all this wonderful equipment, would be stopped and effectively arrested. They would claim it was overloaded, and then unload things and just steal what they wanted. By the time this happened three or four times, the load was certainly lighter. I made a big fuss, wrote letters about this and so they had a record of who I was. Next time I arrived at the border, they took me away and I ended up in prison for the night. Eventually, I gave up going through Russia.”

In more recent times, Harper says, there have always been ways of getting in and out of Afghanistan and getting around the country, and he has come to accept the risks of doing so.


Abdul is an Afghani friend of the Harpers. He agreed to comment on their work but his name has been changed to protect his identity.
“Howard’s deep love and passion for the Afghan people has led him to fluency in the language, and a deep understanding of the mindset and culture. He is trusted and Afghans have opened their lives to him. Despite his Western appearance, his attitude was always different from other foreigners in that he felt at home with Afghans and shared freely with us.”

Abdul says the Harpers took on a mammoth task in providing services to the sight-impaired.

“Their work has affected thousands of people over the decades. Howard’s name and face are familiar to many Afghans living in even the rural areas of the country as he has serviced them with his mobile eye clinics despite great hardship and danger.”


All the while, Howard and Monika lived in circumstances most New Zealanders would find intolerable. This is Harper’s own description of their house in Kabul: “A simple two-storey brick and mortar house, in one of the better districts of Kabul, close to the Parliament. We have no running water, but a pump and a polluted shallow well for water. We have to boil and filter our drinking water, as attacks of dysentery are common.


“There are scorpions of all shapes and sizes, and it is important not to run outside in bare feet! We have electricity sometimes every third day, so we don’t have a refrigerator but a small electric generator for light in the evening. Apart from a few drawbacks, we find it a good place to live.”

The couple have been sensible about personal security but argue that having security guards attracts more attention than it’s worth. Besides, they just didn’t have the money. Harper usually moves around Kabul in a car with two Afghan friends but sometimes ventures out alone.

There have been close calls. In 2009, he was alone, driving the car, after dropping a friend at Kabul Airport. “It was at the time that they changed the guard protecting the airport. I noticed an old guy going along in a shaky way in a car and I knew there would shortly be a busload of troops leaving.

“I thought, ‘I bet he is going to blow that up’, and I knew I should just keep going. I’ve learnt to think and act like an Afghan. Sure enough, there was a huge explosion and people were killed.

“If we were people trying to make money or connected to the military, the Afghans would attack us. But if they feel you are on their side and not political or military, they will be friendly in many ways you would not get in New Zealand.

“I have a friend, for example, a Pathan with a long woolly beard, and he knows every Taleban leader there is. He and I have worked together for a number of years. When I ran short of money on one of my projects, he said, ‘Don’t worry, I will borrow it for you.’ He went around his relatives, some of them high up in the Government and got 5000 here, 5000 there, and ‘here it is, use it’.

“They did want it back again – they could not afford to give it outright. This is the astonishing thing about Afghans – they will kill you if they mistrust you or think you are their enemy, but in other ways they will support you in ways you would not easily find in New Zealand or in England.”

The Harpers live on an NHS pension. Harper sold a house he owned in Algies Bay, north of Auckland, to fund one of his hospitals, his family help when they can, and he has a network of committed supporters in New Zealand and abroad who contribute from time to time. He has received large one-off donations from funding organisations in the US, Japan, Germany and the UK, but says he really relies on private donations of sums as little as $20.

Harper’s legacy includes the Noor Eye Hospital, a newly completed day eye clinic alongside it and at least a dozen self-sustaining eye clinics throughout central Asia, many of them now operating for 30 or more years, and two schools. He says there is much more to be done.

“The eye clinic we recently completed cost us about US$200,000. Our aim is to build up a team of Afghan nurses and doctors, as well as foreigners, and gradually get it self-sustaining. That means literally getting a very small fee from each patient, perhaps $50, with free treatment for the very poorest, about a quarter of them. We will take them on our own shoulders.”


Hamish McMaster heads New Zealand’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade’s Middle East and Africa Division. In early 2009, while he was our man in Iran and accredited to Kabul, he heard of Harper’s work and visited his clinic as it was being built. A long-time diplomat, McMaster describes his arrival at the dusty building site in one of the most dangerous cities in the world.

“Imagine cement bags lying on the ground, piles of bricks and Afghan workers doing their thing. In the middle of this a beautifully laid table, vinyl cloth, with china teacups and saucers, and some bread to eat. I recall Dr Harper was wearing a bow tie. And my abiding memory is of a little New Zealand flag sitting right in the middle of the table.”

McMaster says he has met other New Zealanders working in Afghanistan, but Harper stands out. And he says there’s a very good reason Harper has kept a low profile both in Afghanistan and in New Zealand.

“I would say it has been essential for him to keep under the radar in order to stay and survive so long. It is uncommon for someone to live there for that length of time, and he has survived the vagaries of Afghanistan through his humility and determination.”


McMaster rates Harper’s work in improving the lot of Afghanis on a par with efforts to improve security via construction of schools and repairing roads and other infrastructure. A New Zealand Government grant of $50,000 was personally authorised by Foreign Minister Murray McCully after he visited Afghanistan and met Harper.


“When Dr Harper’s work was brought to my attention, I took the chance, during a visit to Afghanistan last year, to include him in an official dinner. I was struck by his remarkable determination. He’s made a huge humanitarian contribution in very difficult circumstances. It’s a tough place to visit, let alone live,” says McCully.

Abdul, the Harpers’ Kabul-based friend, vouches for Harper’s standing in the community.


“He is highly respected by all Afghan people regardless of ethnic persuasion. He is honourable, someone to be trusted at all times. On one occasion the King was reported to have said we need more foreigners of his calibre to serve Afghanistan.”

While he and Monika were living in unaccustomed comfort in the UK, the Taleban gained control in Afghanistan. Harper made a week-long visit in 1997, and says he was sad to see how miserable life had become. The Noor Eye Hospital had been severely damaged, and human rights were under daily attack.

“You would talk to respectable young girls and women who were whipped for even showing a tiny bit of skin on their foot.


“I went to visit the then Minister of Health to talk about resuming work there. When I met him, I was surprised – he was an uneducated man, which was very odd for the Afghans. He looked like a cross between a mullah and a butcher. He got down on his knees, though, and begged me to start work again. I said I would only do so once things settled down a bit and he accepted that.”

In 2002, the Harpers returned “home” to Kabul.

“It was vital to get back into Afghanistan after the Taleban were defeated. They had been particularly destructive. I had never seen a country brought down to such a level. They had destroyed the infrastructure, education, the freedom of women, and there was a very narrow version of Islam that even banned music.”

Harper says the arrival of the US-led forces brought about some improvements, but they are unlikely to last. “I am always optimistic as far as the people are concerned, but once the Americans and Brits pull out, who knows what will happen? The Afghans are wonderful, but once they start fighting they are quite ruthless.

“Elections have never worked for them. They need strong leadership, almost autocratic. There is little love lost between the various tribal elements. My impression is that Afghanistan is naturally two countries, one Persian-speaking, including Kabul, and the other a Pashto-speaking country – the south-east including the north-western frontier of Pakistan, ­centred on Peshawar.

“Corruption is endemic in Afghanistan. Most people think if they are given a position of power, it is for them and their family’s benefit. That will never change. There are, however, some people, like the late King, who besides looking after themselves, will also consider the good of their people and look after them. That’s the best we can hope for – find these good but usually flawed men and work with them.”

Despite the poverty, corruption and danger, Harper says there is a very simple explanation for spending a lifetime in the service of strangers in some of the most hostile places on earth.

“I spent a lot of time getting a very sophisticated education in New Zealand and England. I somehow owe something back, so therefore while other people may want to stop at age 60 or 65, I feel as long as you’re in good nick and your mind is working, your hands are able and you can think straight, there is no reason not to go on longer. I take this a year at a time.

“I might not have much money, but I’ve had a very rich life.”

Howard Harper will be honoured by his alma mater, Auckland Grammar School, at a dinner in Auckland in November.

Thanks to the New Zealand Listener for permission to run this article and congratulations to Clare de Lore/ David Lomas for such an outstanding piece of writing and editing.





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Monday 25 October 2010

Search ended for Chhewang Nima Sherpa

A month ago I wrote an article about Angtharkay, Father of the modern Sherpa,. Here is the link. http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/2010/09/ang-tharkay-father-of-modern-sherpa.html   When researching this article I came across frequent references to Chhewang Nima Sherpa (photo left) who had climbed Mount Everest 19 times.

I was sad to read yesterday that rescuers called off their search for Chhewang Nima Sherpa, accepting he had died after being swept away by an avalanche in the Himalayas two days ago.  43, was fixing ropes for a climbing group high on the 7,129 metre (23,400 foot) Mount Baruntse on Saturday 23 October, 2010 when the avalanche hit as one of his colleagues looked on.

“We have decided to abort the rescue operation. There is no way we can find him. We have concluded that he is dead,” Jeeban Ghimire, managing director of Sherpa Shangri-La Treks, which organised the expedition, told AFP. “It’s impossible to get to him. The area where we believe he was swept into is a rough icy slope that is inaccessible. It’s a sad decision and a sad day for us.” Ghimire said that a second sherpa, who was working with Chhewang when the avalanche hit at a height of about 7,045 metres, had reported to base camp that Chhewang was missing.

Chhewang, a father of two daughters, climbed Everest twice earlier this year and had also climbed many of the Himalayas’ other highest peaks. Baruntse, in eastern Nepal, was first climbed by a New Zealand expedition in 1954, one year after the 8,848-metre Everest peak was first conquered.

What an amazing man to have climbed the might Mount Everest 19 times.

Baruntse from Hongu Valley Photo: Wikipedia

Baruntse Peak lies in the heart of the Khumbu massif to the west of Makalu. This captivating ridge is surrounded by some of the most famous peaks of the world: Everest, Lhotse, Ama Dablam and the list continues.

Baruntse is a mountain in eastern Nepal, crowned by four peaks and bounded on the south by the Hunku Glacier, on the east by the Barun Glacier, and on the northwest by the Imja Glacier. The mountain was first climbed May 30, 1954 via the south ridge by Colin Todd and Geoff Harrow of a New Zealand expedition.


Charles Evans wrote an excellent article in the The Geographical Journal Vol. 121, No. 2 (Jun., 1955) on this expedition, and here is the link: http://www.jstor.org/pss/1791696, Here is a photo of the article below.
So while we read about the first expedition to climb Baruntse, let's spare a thought for the late Chhewang Sherpa, his wife and two daughters. The Sherpa's have given so much to mountaineering in the Himalaya and it is good to read  about the father of them all, Ang Tharkay. http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/2010/09/ang-tharkay-father-of-modern-sherpa.html

Sunday 24 October 2010

My favourite village in the Himalaya - Sidhbari


Sidhbari, Himachal Pradesh looking at the Dhaula Dhar mountains

Over the years I have visited Sidhbari at many times and I am planning to go back in mid-November.

 I describe my first visit in July 2003 that left a huge imprssion on me, so much that IU have been back eight times.

I got back Tuesday night from Sidhbari in Himachal Pradesh where one of my friends, Anuj Bahri, (bookseller and publisher) has a house overlooking the Dhaula Dhar mountains, Norbulinka Tibetan Institute, Gyuto Monastery and only 30 minutes from Dharamsala and 50 minutes from McLeod Ganj. A very famous Hindu temple is nearby on a river bank and not far away is the Chinmaya Mission Trust where Swami Chinmayananda, a very enlightened Swami, lived until his death.

Anuj's house also overlooks a spread-eagled slate-roofed village surrounded by beautifully sculptured rice fields on sickle-shaped terraces. Women in bright coloured clothing often or not yellow and red, work in the fields.


Anuj's house in Sidhbari. Fresh snow has just fallen on the Dhaula Dar mountains. Photo: Bob McKerrow
It was fun to travel and live with Anuj for a few days in an Indian village where you have the 'real local village people' living side by side with 'the pretenders' - artists, writers and other interesting people who have left big city life behind to come to the tranquillity of this green, fertile mountain region to write, paint and find the 'truth,' or to get screwed up in thought and mind by not finding it.

But like every house in India, you need a Bamri: cook, watchman and bottle washer, who brings a character of Baldrick proportions into the household. A Sad Sack figure with sallow cheeks and missing teeth, looking as if he is in the advanced stages of TB. However Anuj assures me he is not ill, but has made a skeleton of himself through his regular encounters with local village women who cheat him of his hard-earned money, with the promise of marriage. His first wife deserted him and the proposed second, ran away with his money. Now he is on the prowl for a third.

Bamri; bumbling, clumsy and likeable, brought a sense of humour that only a hill village man can do.

The day after I arrived I met Rikhy Ram who worked 26 years in the Indian army intelligence service as a photographer on border patrols and spent most of his time in the mountain region of Bhutan, Sikkim, North Eastern Indian border areas and these local mountains.


 Rikhy Ram right, me on the left, studying maps of the region Photo: Anuj Bahri

On 8 and 9 March 1959 Rikhy was in Tawang Gompa when the 14th Dalai Lama crossed from Tibet into Arunchal Pradesh via Bhimla. He was part of the group that ensured the team crossed safely. I later found out that the 6th Dalai Lama was born in Tawang Gompa which is now inside India and not far from the border of Bhutan.

He later spent 3 years on the Tibetan border between 1973 and 75. He climbed 3 peaks in Bhutan, Chomolasari, 23,997 feet, not far from Phari Dzong, which is across the border in Tibet, He also did the first ascent of two other smaller peaks, Kungphu 22,300 ft, Chachiphula 20,702 ft(formerly called Yala) and Wagyala (20, 163 ft).

It seems his work was intelligence of a sort, or as I would say in my parlance the 'modern great gamer'; checking the borders between the Tibet/China and Bhutan and India, getting good photographic information. In later life he worked in Himachal Pradesh in the Pir Panjal and Dhuala Dhar, mapping mountains on foot and through aerial surveys. Interestingly enough, he was in the Congo from 61 to 63 and was a member of the search and rescue mission which helped bring the body of Dag Hammarskjöld, the then Secretary of the UN, from Angola back to Leopoldville. He also spent four month in New York and I am sure he wasn't working for McDonald's although Kohli in his book 'Spies in the Himalayas' would believe this suggestion.

Anuj and I had lunch with Rikhy in his home where he lovingly brought out old and worn maps of all the areas he had worked in and the maps were neatly, and lovingly, made into a book, and all carefully arranged and numbered. The maps on Bhutan were particularly interesting with all the places he stayed and visited, the peaks he climbed and the routes he took, all neatly marked in red dotted lines.

As he unfolded the maps, he unfolded his past locked in his heart and mind for years. Sharing journey's with a fellow mountain wayfarer over a map doesn't need a common verbal language because maps and markings tell a story visually. Remnants of curries and dahl had in mountain camps were evident by the stains on the map which only added to the inuendo behind the intrigue. I am sure no one will ever know precisely what Riky did. Maybe he didn't know exactly the nature of his missions, planned in Lurgan Sahib's house in Shimla.



The Dhaula Dhar mountains dominate

Not far from Anuj's house lives Khosa and his wife Lakshmi, a famous Indian artist, A Kashmiri pandit, whose painting represent the journey and transition from this life to the metaphysical and he gets a lot of his inspiration from the Upanishards,(sp) early Hindu literature and Rumi the famous Islamic Sufi poet. Anuj's immediate neighbour is a Gorkha, Onkar, whose grandparents moved from Nepal to Himachal Pradesh. On the first night we arrived an impromptu party started as Onkar arrived, then Khosa. At first Onkar turned up at his nose at the wine I had brought, saying "that's a woman's drink, we drink whiskey or rum here."

But as the night wore on, there were lots of empty bottles of the "women's drink" I had brought from my local wine shop in Delhi as Khosa drifted into a spirit-inspired trance where in front of our eyes, he made a transition journey to the metavinacal, a journey even Bachhus would have envied. In his trance, we couldn't communicate with him and Anuj had to escort him home to ensure night-flying Nun's from the nearby Tibetan Monastery, didn't capture his Hindu spirit.

We spent one day going to Dharamsala and onto McLeod Ganj where the Dalai Lama lives. Dharamsala is a typical dirty hill town but once you leave the town, and climb up towards McLeod Ganj, the landscape becomes quite spectacular when looking down to the lowland rice fields shrouded in morning mists, and then upwards, nestled on a tree-clad ridge at over 7,000 feet, is McLeod Ganj, the residence of the 14 th Dali Lama. We spent time at the Tsuglagkhung complex where the Dalai lama lives, visited the temple, watched the monks in their daily debating contests and generally imbibed the ambiance. For a head of state, a people who are exiled in a foreign country, the Tibetan's have established a powerful cultural and economic presence in this area.

However, I made the mistake of visiting the Norbulinka Monastry the day before which is a superb piece of Tibetan architecture, with a Japanese Buddhist influence which gives an air of tranquillity stemming from a combination of elements, the gardens and its trees, waterfalls, streams and the sky and recent rain puddles, and, at the end of a shady walk, is a wonderful temple with a huge golden Buddha. A photo of the Dalai Lama is placed over a covered pulpit from where he delivers sermons when he visits. The elevated situation of McLeod Ganj was impressive, but I found little of inspiration. Norbulinka radiated more of the aura I had expected.

Other interesting places close to Anuj's house in Sidhbari is a place called YOL, which stands for 'Your Own Lines' and was the place where Italian prisoners of war were transported to during the second world war. You can still see they houses build out of stone. Another special place not far from McLeod Ganj is a small English-built church called ' St John of the Wilderness.' It was built in 1853 and many famous soldiers, explorers and surveyors are buried here. James Bruce, Earl of and Elgin and Kilcardine K.T.G.C.B.G.M.S.I. VICEROY AND GOVERNOR GENERAL OF INDIA was buried here and a memorial erected by his wife.







Throughout Himachal Pradesh, the women are usually dressed in bright colours. Photo: Bob McKerrow


A number of other young British soldiers in once bloody, now romantic battles of a past long gone, have either commemoration tablets of graves. One that I recall was Lieutenant R.D.Angelo 'who died at Wano, Wazirstan 30 November 1894 of wounds he received in action against the Mahsuds.' (I am sure many of their descendants are still rabble-rousers)

It took me back to the lines from Kipling

'A scrimmage in a border station -
A canter down some dark defile -
Two thousand pounds of education
Drops to a ten-rupee jezail -
The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,' Shot like a rabbit in a ride !


As I have worked, trekked and climbed in Pakistan, Afghanistan and India, I am fascinated by the mountain river systems. With partition, these mighty rivers had international boundaries pushed on them. Punjab - the land of five rivers were originally referred to as the Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Sutlej and Beas, but with partition, the Beas flows only in India, so to keep the name Punjab correct, Pakistan added a fifth river to replace the Beas, the Indus. I have crossed the Indus, Jhelum, Chenab and the Ravi, so it was a thrill to travel for more than an hour alongside one of the main tributaries to the Beas River, and to cross it twice to and from my trip to Sidhbari.

This is definitely my favourite spot in the whole Himalaya.

Saturday 23 October 2010

A teak book case

Books have been the only constant thing in my life over the past thirty years as I have travelled and worked in most remote corners of Asia. from the Pamir mountains of Tajikistan, to the deserts of Turkmenistan, from the islands  of Sulawesi to Laamu Island in the Maldives .........

Usually at the end of a three to six year assignment, I pack my books into a container, and ship them on to the next assisgnment. Normally I find some hand-me-down book shelves to display my books on or buy some cheap ones. This time I promised my well worn and well travelled books, " you are going to have the best book shelf I can get made in Colombo." And they got it.


So now my 600 plus books proudly stand on a new teak wood, made  by a master craftsman who took two months to locate trhe best timber, to season it, assemble it, and to give it many layers of a matt finish
A look at one corner of the bookshelf which contains a hotchpotch of titles.

The top left hand corner contains four thousand years of history covering Persia, Russia, Central Asia, northern Pakistan and India. There are personal accounts from Persians, Alexander the Great, the Chinese Pilgrims, Turkish Admirals in the 16th century, Chenghis, Timur,  Marco Polo, the Moguls, the British and many more.

The most well worn book is my favourite, " When Men and Mountains Meet - the Exploration of the Western Himalayas which I purchased in a small bookshop in Madras in 1980. I could either entertain you for hours, or possibly bore you for hours, as to where many of these books were found, purchased or bartered. Bazaars and booksellers in Peshawar, Kabul, Herat, Kathmandu, Meshad, Samarkand, Kashgar, Kangra, Ashgabad, Simla,  Dushanbe, Merv, Bukhara, Turkistan, Almaty. Bishkek, Khorog, Kandahar, Lahore, Osh, Pokhara, Manali, Kaza,  Dharamsala, Chamba, Dalhousie,Darjeeling, Balkh, Dhaka, Delhi, Jakarta, Male, Calcutta, Bombay, Saigon, Pleiku, Manila - have all yeilded to this collection.

Any rare or priceless books I have put into instutions or safe private collections for safe keeping and wider accessability, for example:  http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/2010/07/home-for-very-rare-book-herman-buhl.html  a place where I deposited one of the many rare books I have parted with.

And which is the most well worn, the most refered to book in the collection  ?

WHERE MEN AND MOUNTAIN MEET BY JOHN KEAY.  I have three copies of it, two dog-eared copies that have been up more valleys, more mountains, more passes than many mountaineers. It has been my constant guide since I discovered it in a small bookshop in Madras in 1980. Since then I have tried to visit ever river, every valley, every pass listed on   the maps in the book. See article I wrote on this: http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/2008/06/having-now-visited-all-places-mentioned.html


John Keay's book is concerned with the Western end of  the Himalya  so well illustratet in this NASA satellite picture.


Keay's book  is the tale of the exploration and opening up of the Himalayas. Woven though it is the ebb and flow of The Great Game in which Britain and Russia competed for control of the northern passes into India. John Keay brings out the personalities of the explorers, from the immensely tough and intelligent William Moorcroft to the wilful Francis Younghusband who ran a war with Tibet more or less on his own initiative. What one constantly admires is the determination and resilience of these characters. They battle against difficult terrain, terrible weather and often hostile locals.


So now I have my book collection housed in a natural home, and I think of all the year's of reading ahead.

Wednesday 20 October 2010

Bunkers to Ice Cream : See the Trailer






Bunkers to Ice Cream is a documentary that looks at the lives of the people in the northern part of Sri Lanka who are recovering from an over 25 year old civil war. “Bunkers to Ice Cream” was released by the Sri Lanka Red Cross Society to the public at the 8th Asia Pacific Conference of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies  in Amman, Jordan.on Tuesday 19 October, 2010. If you want to see more, try this link:
bunkers to ice cream

I have been getting so frustrated over the past two and a half months since I arrived in Sri Lanka with the lack of funding we are getting for 200,000 families without housing in the north of Sri Lanka so I got together with Tissa, the Director General of the  Sri Lanka Red Cross and my good colleague Mahieash, who  directed this movie in Kilinochchi. It follows the lives of Arunachalam (left) who is a potter in profession and Ramaiya (on the right of the photo), an ice cream maker who are struggling to keep their lives and livelihood afloat.

The documentary based on the Sri Lanka Red Cross Society’s Post Conflict Recovery Programme looks at the hardships and struggle by both the main characters and their families.

The Sri Lanka Red Cross Post Conflict Recovery programme aimed at re-strengthening the lives of the people in the north of Sri Lanka victimize by a 25 year old civil war and to give them a push towards a better life.

The documentary produced by the International Federation of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies was also translated into Sinhala and Tamil.

Here is some of the script to give you a sense of who the two main characters are:

ARUNACHALAM THE POTTER

Just few meters from the famous A9 road in a village called Vivakanandanagar you meet Arunachlam. Arunachalam is 51 years old. He is a potter in profession. Today he is spinning a pottery wheel, or more like his version of a pottery wheel to make some pots from the clay he brought from a nearby village after walking over 10 miles. By the day’s end he intends to finish at least closer to 50 pots so that his wife can sell it at the village market.


While spinning the wheel and making his pots, the grim situation that he experienced through comes to his mind.

Arunachalam is the father of 4. Three sons and a daughter, but today he’s just a father to two of them. A bitter past keeps him awake at nights.

In 2006 Arunachalam and his family lost his son while trying to take cover from a rain of bullets during the conflict. Since that time he has done his utmost to find his son, but to no avail.

Now Arunachalam and his family want to look ahead and work for the future. Building a new life has become priority for all of his family.

Currently he lives in a small shed covered with tarpaulins which is right behind his pottery wheel, where all his family squeeze in at nights for a cramped sleep.cramped up in the nights to sleep.


RAMAIYA CHANDRASEKARAN - THE ICE CREAM SELLER

This is Ramaiya Chandrasekaran. He also lives in Vivakanandanagar. He used to be a baker for over 30 years. He has exceptional skills in icing cakes and making sweets for the people of Kilinochchi. He is a son of a Policeman who served the Kilinochchi Police in the late 70’s.


Ramaiya’s story is quite similar to Arunachalam’s story, in fact most of them has a similar story to tell.


His son Subakar was captured by the LTTE and he managed to escape. However the terrorist recaptured him and tortured him for making a getaway and up until today he is incapable of doing any heavy work due to the injuries sustained.

Irrespective of their hardships Ramaiya and his son are determined to work their way through in order to find a living. Today they make ice cream together in orderto find a living by selling them for 20 rupees at the Kilinochchi town.

In his house Ramaiya does not have electricity, no refrigeration facilities and no high tech equipment to make ice cream. Daily he makes the amount he can sellas whatever is left will go to waste during the end of the day.

Few months back Ramaiya had to travel to Vavuniya which is 90 kms south of Kilinochchi in order to bring ice cubes as there were no refregiration facilities in Kilinochchi. However today due to the development that keeps slowly creeping in; Ramaiya manages to get ice cubes from the Kilinochchi town.


After the entire box of ice cream set in place, Ramaiya makes his way to the nearest town to sell the ice cream for 20 rupees, merely 17 cents in US dollars.

Today is a good day, Ramaiya manages to sell a quite a number of cones, maybe to the fact that a camera crew is following him and appears to be a star in this city rising from ruin..


The Red Cross Post Conflict Recovery Programme continues to help thousands and thousands of people just like Ramaiya and Arunasalam to regain their lives and livelihoods and live in dignity just like everyone else in the island.

The owner driven concept has proven fruitful in these post conflict situations to rebuild communities as it gives the beneficiary the soul authority to decide on how their house or their livelihood may come up.

Giving a second chance to the most vulnerable people who were battered by an unforgiving war has been no easy task. Currently the SLRCS and Red Cross partners in Sri Lanka are pushing the boundaries here at home and abroad to bring in more support and aid to the people like Ramaiya and Arunasalam and many, many others who were victims of this ruthless war.

However in the positive light, these people too are determined to get up, and stay up and make sure that they do their duties as parents in order to give a better life for their children.

It is true that the past was gruesome to all of them. It is true that their souls are broken and the light in their eyes are fading away, but their duties as fathers, mothers and elders is not to find a better life for themselves, but to create a better tomorrow for their children so that they will carry the torch of courage and determination to become part of a peaceful Sri Lanka

Bunkers to Ice Cream

bunkers to ice cream
A documentary that looks at the lives of the people in the northern part of Sri Lanka who are recovering from an over 25 year old civil war titled “Bunkers to Ice Cream” was released by the Sri Lanka Red Cross Society to the public at the 8th Asia Pacific Conference Red Cross  in Amman, Jordan.on Tuesday 19 October, 2010.

To view, try this link:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0Sexg_iIsI

I have been getting so frustrated over the past two months with the lack of funding we are getting for 200,000 families without housing in the north of Sri Lanka so we got together with the Sri Lanka Red Cross

 and my good colleague Mahieash  directed this movie in Kilinochchi, Sri Lanka. It follows the lives of Arunachalam (left) who is a potter in profession and Ramaiya (on the right of the photo), an ice cream maker who are struggling to keep their lives and livelihood afloat.

The documentary based on the Sri Lanka Red Cross Society’s Post Conflict Recovery Programme looks at the hardships and struggle by both the main characters and their families.

The Sri Lanka Red Cross Post Conflict Recovery programme aimed at re-strengthening the lives of the people in the north of Sri Lanka victimize by a 25 year old civil war and to give them a push towards a better life.

The documentary produced by the International Federation of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies was also translated into Sinhala and Tamil.

CLICK BELOW TO SEE THE DOCUMENTARY


From bunkers to ice cream

Here is some of the script to give you a sense of who the two main characters are:

ARUNACHALAM THE POTTER

Just few meters from the famous A9 road in a village called Vivakanandanagar you meet Arunachlam. Arunachalam is 51 years old. He is a potter in profession. Today he is spinning a pottery wheel, or more like his version of a pottery wheel to make some pots from the clay he brought from a nearby village after walking over 10 miles. By the day’s end he intends to finish at least closer to 50 pots so that his wife can sell it at the village market.


While spinning the wheel and making his pots, the grim situation that he experienced through comes to his mind.

Arunachalam is the father of 4. Three sons and a daughter, but today he’s just a father to two of them. A bitter past keeps him awake at nights.

In 2006 Arunachalam and his family lost his son while trying to take cover from a rain of bullets during the conflict. Since that time he has done his utmost to find his son, but to no avail.

Now Arunachalam and his family want to look ahead and work for the future. Building a new life has become priority for all of his family.

Currently he lives in a small shed covered with tarpaulins which is right behind his pottery wheel, where all his family squeeze in at nights for a cramped sleep.cramped up in the nights to sleep.


RAMAIYA CHANDRASEKARAN - THE ICE CREAM SELLER

This is Ramaiya Chandrasekaran. He also lives in Vivakanandanagar. He used to be a baker for over 30 years. He has exceptional skills in icing cakes and making sweets for the people of Kilinochchi. He is a son of a Policeman who served the Kilinochchi Police in the late 70’s.


Ramaiya’s story is quite similar to Arunachalam’s story, in fact most of them has a similar story to tell.


His son Subakar was captured by the LTTE and he managed to escape. However the terrorist recaptured him and tortured him for making a getaway and up until today he is incapable of doing any heavy work due to the injuries sustained.

Irrespective of their hardships Ramaiya and his son are determined to work their way through in order to find a living. Today they make ice cream together in orderto find a living by selling them for 20 rupees at the Kilinochchi town.

In his house Ramaiya does not have electricity, no refrigeration facilities and no high tech equipment to make ice cream. Daily he makes the amount he can sellas whatever is left will go to waste during the end of the day.

Few months back Ramaiya had to travel to Vavuniya which is 90 kms south of Kilinochchi in order to bring ice cubes as there were no refregiration facilities in Kilinochchi. However today due to the development that keeps slowly creeping in; Ramaiya manages to get ice cubes from the Kilinochchi town.


After the entire box of ice cream set in place, Ramaiya makes his way to the nearest town to sell the ice cream for 20 rupees, merely 17 cents in US dollars.

Today is a good day, Ramaiya manages to sell a quite a number of cones, maybe to the fact that a camera crew is following him and appears to be a star in this city rising from ruin..


The Red Cross Post Conflict Recovery Programme continues to help thousands and thousands of people just like Ramaiya and Arunasalam to regain their lives and livelihoods and live in dignity just like everyone else in the island.

The owner driven concept has proven fruitful in these post conflict situations to rebuild communities as it gives the beneficiary the soul authority to decide on how their house or their livelihood may come up.

Giving a second chance to the most vulnerable people who were battered by an unforgiving war has been no easy task. Currently the SLRCS and Red Cross partners in Sri Lanka are pushing the boundaries here at home and abroad to bring in more support and aid to the people like Ramaiya and Arunasalam and many, many others who were victims of this ruthless war.

However in the positive light, these people too are determined to get up, and stay up and make sure that they do their duties as parents in order to give a better life for their children.

It is true that the past was gruesome to all of them. It is true that their souls are broken and the light in their eyes are fading away, but their duties as fathers, mothers and elders is not to find a better life for themselves, but to create a better tomorrow for their children so that they will carry the torch of courage and determination to become part of a peaceful Sri Lanka

Monday 18 October 2010

Ranikhet, A jewel in the Himalayan crown

I plan to spend some days in the Western Himalayas in mid November, so I thought I would do a few postings of my favourite spots there. First is Ranikhet, my jewel in the crown.

Ranikhet is one on my favourite destination in the Indian Himalaya which stands at 1824 m above sea level. Ranikhet is located in the northern Indian state of Uttaranchal. in the Kumaon Hills, From here you get some of the best views of the Western Himalaya. 

My good friend from Christchurch, Ed Cotter, agreed with me that Ranikhet was one of his favourites too, and he first visited there in !951 with Sir Edmund Hillary

The 1951 New Zealand Garhwhal Expedition sailed to Colombo and travelled by train through India and on the way to Garhwal, Hillary wrote to Eric Shipton asking if he might join the Everest Reconnaissance Expedition of 1951.

When the four-man party had done with their peak they arrived in Ranikhet to be greeted by a telegram inviting two of them to join Shipton's party. Hillary, as the fittest and best-acclimatised of the four, was obvious first choice, and set out immediately for Nepal. It was the start of a lifelong love affair. With Shipton, too, there was an immediate rapport: "I felt a sense of relief at his unshaven face and scruffy clothes.".


George Lowe and Ed Cotter, members of the first New Zealand expedition to the Himalayas, study photos from the journey, which includes photos of Ranikhet. Photo / Simon Baker

The views from Ranikhet and small villages nearby are superb. You can see the Western Himalaya stunning and the view of the Nanda Devi is superb . There are a number of attractions in Ranikhet that  arew orth visiting such as the Chaubatia Gardens which  is large orchard that is spread over an area of 265 acres. Ranikhet is popular for two of its temples. Jhoola Devi Ka Mandir was constructed some 400 years ago in honor of the local Goddess, who protected the people from man-eating tigers. The other important temple is Kali Devi ka Mandir, which has a large number of bells. The site of the temple is believed to be 5000 years old.

The other places that one can visit include Bhaludham, which is an artificial lake. Upat Kalika some four kilometres from Ranikhet on the main road to Almora is an ideal spot to admire snow capped Himalayan peaks.

In 1975 when I lived in Nepal and again from 2000 to 2006 when I lived in India, I visited the many places in view of the might Nanda Devi. Straddling the regions of Garhwal and Kumaon, close to the Tibetan border, Nanda Devi (7816 m), is the geographical and spiritual high point of India. Surrounding the peak is an incredible expanse of mighty 6000 and 7000 metre peaks. Nanda Devis's inner sanctuary is currently off limits to climbers and trekkers. However at one time it was the coveted destination of several early 20th century expeditions all of which failed to reach the sancturay until Eric Shipton and Bill Tilman reached it via the Rishi Ganga gorge in 1932. Tilman eventually climbed the main peak for the first time in 1936.

The three photos below show views of Ranikhet, starting with a painting by an unknown British artist


Nanda Devi Base Camp below




Kumaon Himalaya




The valley of flowers


Pindari Glacier

Panchu glacier near Nanda Devi Base camp