Posts
- the way Kashmiris keep themselves warm in winter.One of the team
who makes our bread every morning is blind, and his helpers do the other work. The bread is thrown against the side of the sunken oven wall
where it bakes quickly. We buy 6 or 10 of these every morning.After breakfast, Sami and I took Parmeena - the girl
from the night before - and her mother -with us to the public hospital in Srinigar for surgery on her other leg.
While at the hospital, we also saw Naza, the girl from up in the mountains. She was in the hospital to have her cast removed. She was smiling now! I showed her the photos and movies I had taken of her during our visit, as we sat together in the waiting room. She was being carried by her uncle, as she was unable to put any weight on the leg without the cast – not yet. She and her aunt and uncle rode back to Wayil with us in the van, and caught a bus to go the rest of the way up into the mountains from there.
Wednesday there was a strike called by the religious leaders of Kashmir, to protest the Indian government’s rule of Kashmir and to prevent people from voting. This was the first time I saw angry Kashmiris. When Imtiyaz and I went to buy our morning bread and milk, there was a jeep full of very angry looking men, and they did not seem to pleased to see me, or anyone else out on the street, for that matter. During a strike, all the stores are to be closed, all the government offices, etc. Sami said I should stay in the Centre. No walking. Because there was a 72 hour strike, all the schools were closed, so students showed up early for computer training. Between training and re-doing all the photos in Sami’s computer from the past 5 years, it was a busy computer day for me. In the evening, Sami and I went to his parent’s place, and I began my lessons in Kashmiri from his father, and then played volleyball with the kids. I was much improved, and I am sure it amused some of the older guys, who were sitting around chatting after their game, that I could actually play.
So here are some of my first impressions of Kashmir, after a week:
The people in the villages are very friendly and kind, and they love freedom and peace. This is borne out by how they treat their animals. There are no factory farms in Kashmir, that I am aware of. All the chickens are free range organic, and the cocks are not killed as chicks, either. Everywhere I saw animals living their lives freely with the humans. Sheep do not have their tails docked, nor do dogs. I have seen sheep in the city, grazing untended in the narrow grass strip between lanes of cars, cows and calves on the streets, dogs never caged nor on leashes, and much better fed than most farm dogs I have seen. In fact, when I put out the compost from the kitchen, and was covering it with soil, Sami asked me not to next time, so the dogs could eat what they wished from it. Even horses wander at will through villages. But the most amazing animal I saw was the 3 legged horse on my first day in Kashmir. I still want to have a chat with the owner.
The food is healthy and locally grown and organic. And vegetarianism is common. Even people who do eat meat eat it sparingly.
Children are loved by both parents, and get lots of attention since everyone eats on the floor. I often see fathers walking with their little boys, and their girls. And feeding their children. Caring for children is clearly shared, because they are loved. And there is time for them.
Drunk drivers do not exist here. Alcohol is not sold anywhere. So there is no alcohol-related violence, no party culture. No drunken hooning on the roads at night, no drunks stumbling along the streets, or passed out in the gutter, or making lewd comments to the girls. No bars to go to. No alcoholic fathers making life miserable for their families. No hidden alcoholic mothers. None. So what do people do without alcohol?
People talk to each other. They hang out together, and just spend time together, rather than sit at home and watch TV, or go out to the bars. In the evenings, when so many New Zealanders and Americans are in front of their TV watching the news and getting a big dose of negativity and violence, here they talk to their neighbours and watch the light fade.
People walk from place to place, and they don’t have to go far because there are many little shops in the villages, which sell pretty much anything you might need. And the shops are open early and stay open late – until after 9pm many of them. And why not? Family and neighbours are there to chat with them.
Children and teens are respectful and happy. Not sullen and angry and demanding. It is a pleasure to work with the teens who come for computer training. We all get along really well.
Like New Zealand and the US where not every Christian goes to church, not everyone who is a Muslim drops what they are doing and prays 5 times a day. And only one person here, in all the people I have met, have asked my about my own beliefs. And that was at a church.
