Pink Politics

In the Pink. Hakeem is in chatty mood at breakfast and asks to see my Footprint guide, pleased to find his other hotel in Kashmir listed. There are two young Chinese girls at the next table, one with acne. Ever direct, Hakeem asks "What is the problem with your face?" She hestitates, looking flustered, so he supplies the answer, "You have big pimples!" Today China has a new leader and is much in the news. The Times of India complains that the Chinese have been cashing in on Diwali festivities by flooding the Indian market not just with fireworks but with plastic Lakshmi and Ganesh idols. It suggests that Indian industry should retaliate by sending container loads of plastic Chairman Maos to China. We have been wondering what is the significance of the different shapes and colours of turbans. The Times supplies an answer. Think pink. There's politics in pagris (turbans), it says. Politicians are wearing coloured pagris to demonstrate their priorities - green to support farmers, yellow to canvas the religious vote, and pink pagris for prosperity. Would lend colour to our House of Commons, I think.

The way through the woods

Sara decides to stay put and stretches out with her book on the balcony, soaking up the sun. I head off on foot to the village of Dharamkhot. It's uphill through scented pine forests, a long slog alleviated by the grandeur of the surrounding peaks. Part way up I scrabble up to a rocky pinnacle where the trees are festooned with fluttering prayer flags. It is silent but for bird calls and I think I am alone until I spot pairs of pink-arsed monkeys picking nits. They glower at me, and I glower back, but keep my distance. Dharamkot is quiet after MG, but not entirely tourist free. Indeed it offers everything the weary walker needs - wi-fi, ayurvedic massage and Manchurian Munchies. But rural life is is full swing and is indeed no idyll. I watch a family hacking the ground to level a terrace, men wielding pick axes, women carrying away soil in broad bowls on their heads.

"Fluttering and dancing in the breeze"

On the way back down I stop at the Paradise Cafe for a chai. The terrace hangs over the valley and has a cushioned floor and low tables. I meet Sebastian, from the Black Forest, who sits lotus-style and lights a bidi (the poorer Indian's hand-rolled fag). He has been here for about a week (he can't really remember and admits he's a bit spaced out) and is going on from here to a 10-day silent meditation course in Uttarakhand, then on to Assam, then...... And return to Germany next February.... or thereabouts.

After a rest and a bowl of soup with Sara, I head out of town again, downhill through the forest to find the 1860 Anglican Church of St.John in the Wilderness. It's a little piece of the home counties in India, built in rather severe Early English style with a squat tower and stained glass windows. An attendant lets me in. The interior well kept, with Bibles in Hindi and English but no hymn or service books (or any notices indicating service times or contacts). Freshly polished plaques commemorate, amongst others, Thomas Knowles "who met with his death at Dharmsalla (note spelling) by an attack from a bear on 25 October 1883." Outside stands a tall pillared monument to Lord Elgin, Viceroy and Governor General of India, who died at Dhurmsala (yet another spelling) "in the discharge of his duties", 1863. He was buried here, at his own request, because it reminded him of his native Scotland. 

The way through the woods, 2

I walk back uphill, keeping a eye out for bears, and find the main square is playing host to a different sort of fireworks. The Tibetan Youth Congress is holding an anti-China demonstration. Actors in dark suits wearing Xi Jinping face masks are "taunted" by demonstrators, who then march off waving flags and chanting "No more China - Free Tibet now." The Chinese may have other priorities just now (e.g. potential invasion by plastic Indian Maos).

Tibetan Youth Congress issues a stern warning to China's new leadership