More on the free Tibet stuff later, at the moment I've got a lot of Chinese students I can't afford to annoy...

Tags: pictures
Current Location: The D-zone

Tags: pictures
Current Location: Gangotri, Uttarranchal, India

Why are Nepali politics currently in such dire straits? There is a common goal that the whole population apart from minority royalist elements aspire to achieve; a movement towards which was started with the April people’s revolt and seems to have stalled with the introduction of the Maoists to government one year ago. Yes, undeniably Nepal is facing huge obstacles on the road to fully representative democracy. New outlooks, refreshment (not the New York fact-finding-mission-kind) and ideas are desperately needed to drag the flagging democratic process out of the doldrums it is currently foundering in. Lacking too is the simple desire for change from politicians of every party. At times the octogenarian Koirala looks like an unstoppable bundle of energy when compared with the revolutionaries who still seem to be dazed by the direct sunlight that was so lacking in the jungle.


Looking away from the stalemate in Kathmandu and outside of Nepal’s borders for fresh approaches, lessons can be learned from its southern neighbour and the struggle there for independence in the twentieth century. This will provoke angry reactions among Nepali nationalists, but while examining the history of the Indian independence movement, striking similarities with Nepal’s struggle of today are thrown up. The colonial rule of the British can easily be compared with the autocratic madness of Gyenendra – neither had any public mandate or was accountable for their actions, and both ruled through fear, subterfuge and division. Hinduism did, or will play a major part in any national movement, being the dominant religion in both countries, (India however had to deal with much higher and more intense levels of religious tension than Nepal) and despite the outlook of many Nepali nationalists, Nepal and its southern neighbour are the two most alike countries in South Asia sharing close ties linguistically, culturally socially and to an extent, geographically.

Whereas the Indian independence movement succeeded in garnering world sympathy and support, in mobilising its population (almost completely peacefully in spite of colonial oppression reaching violent levels, read Jallianwalla Bagh) towards its cause, and eventually in attaining complete independence, the Nepali attempt has been hijacked by a bunch of stale, corrupt and lethargic power grabbers, and shows no sign at all of stumbling any further along its winding road. The process, if it is still a process, for no real movement has been seen in months is led by a dithering octogenarian well past his prime, and the so-called ‘alliance’ of the interim parliament consists partly of a mass of squabbling, bickering street thugs who wear suits and ties while letting their younger counterparts do as they please in the streets.

Where are the shining leaders of the pro-democracy movement in Nepal? God knows the cause is just as noble as the one championed by Nehru, Ghandi, and Gokhale. Do we see any examples of the courage, dedication and spirit demonstrated by them and the hundreds of other figures of the movement of the twentieth century in Nepal? Do we see a common unity among the population and parties, a common goal? No. We have the leader of “the people’s war”, the captain of the class revolution attempting to withhold his party’s spending accounts for its cadres languishing in cantonments (must have overspent by buying bound copies of das Kapital for every party worker) while sending his children to America to be educated and decrying the ‘interference’ of the US and India. Nehru, Gandhi and others sacrificed most of their worldly possessions during their pushes for reform, the only example the writer can find of this in Nepal is the head of the JTTM-J faction, who ekes out a living somewhere in the jungle of Bihar, nipping across the border now and again to help his cadres torch a bus. Well done that man…

The challengers faced by the early leaders of the independence movement in India were no less daunting than what the parties of today’s Nepal are up against, if anything, more so. Activists in India were constantly conspired against, and imprisoned by the British, and India, unlike Nepal had concentrated, large and vocal religious minorities to try and bring into the framework, and although we cannot forget the disaster of Partition, strenuous attempts at preserving national unity were made right up until it. The linguistic and cultural differences that activists had to deal with were huge, by far eclipsing those we can see in Nepal. From Bengal to the Punjab, from Kashmir to Tamil Nadu, India is and was more linguistically diverse than Europe and the different areas held different customs, beliefs and views all of which had to be brought on board in the struggle for independence. The masses, belonging to different classes and castes all across the country were harmoniously brought together, and urged to action by a relatively small group of thinkers, believers and most importantly doers, willing to face prison, hardship and poverty and of whom the vast majority did.

Then why is the story so different in Nepal? Are the methods that were used in India, ones of effective civil disobedience, peaceful protest and dialogue so vastly complicated, difficult and incompatible in any other country? Nepal and India are undeniably similar, the majority of their populations practice the same religion (and the problems of caste which accompany it), speak similar languages and share close cultural and historical ties so why can we see too vastly different approaches to a common goal?

If only the process was a ship with sails, and hot air could be utilized as a force with which to move it, Nepal’s politicians would at last be able to justify their existences…

Tags: nepal
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

“A country under foreign domination seeks escape from the present in dreams of a vanished age, and finds consolation in visions of past greatness. This is a foolish and dangerous pastime, in which many of us indulge”


This statement cannot properly be applied to Scotland, as it is not a subject under a ruling country although judging by the constant chip on its shoulder, one might wonder, but, if we replace the issue of foreign domination with today’s pressing problems however, then this quote from Jawaharlal Nehru’s ‘Discovery of India’ could easily be applied to modern Scotland. The north east is no exception, and its people some of the worst offenders in disappearing into the fuzzy warm past, one seemingly of cocoa, corporal punishment and endless long walks, and forgetting issues facing the area today, of which there happen to be not a few.

True, to the majority of the readers of local press in the northeast, these memories and recollections provide a welcome relapse into days gone by, ones of sunshine, youth and possibilities; when Buckfast, knife crime and rampant teenage pregnancy were almost unheard of. Burying ones head in the sand though, no matter how inviting and pleasant that sand is cannot and will not make the problems of today disappear, but still every week in the local Moray, Highland, or Aberdeenshire press, these fond reminiscences of the past manage to make an appearance, whether through columnists making comparisons with the hard working, polite, and dashing young manhood of yesteryear with the wretched, alcohol-ridden juveniles of today, a recount of a gorgeous summer walk taken over the Dava in 1959, or the photographic sections that convey how little Elgin High Street has actually changed over the past seventy years.

Press coverage of what the youth are up to extends to the latest junior football results, and roughly the second year of secondary education, when we’re still well-mannered enough to allow someone to take a photo of our gymnastics display. Aside from the odd volunteer overseas making a report, the old are informed of what the young are doing through police reports and exasperated letters from concerned residents. When was the last time you read something positive about, or written by, anyone between fifteen and twenty?

With the provincial press dominated by the middle aged or elder generations it’s no wonder that young people generally don’t read its publications, which is a shame as especially in the northeast, ways for young folk to communicate and share ideas and opinions outside of the all-conquering Facebook and Myspace are scarce. Obviously not every spotty fifteen year old is a budding Charles Dickens, but the whole age group cannot be written off as a bunch of illiterate ne’er do wells, and with the wide ranges of issues affecting Moray today (uncertainty over the future of the RAF bases, North Sea oil, and the brain drain down to England or the Central Belt) or threatening to in the near future, the community needs to hear the voice of the young. More so than before, as it is ultimately us who will reap the results of any decisions taken now by our elders.

Both age groups need to give ground; the elders need to realise the potential that we have, and make some sort of attempt to encourage us to use it. Fair enough, difficulties present themselves here; it’s not cool at all to be seen taking an interest in anything outside drinkin’ fightin’ an shaggin’, during your secondary school years and how many people under twenty, or thirty for that matter, are seen at any kind of public forum or meeting in the area? For our part, we need to realise that the northeast belongs to us too; once the current generation reaches sixty five and starts spending more and more time out of the country and the drizzle, we’re going have to work something out-it will be up to us to keep the hospitals running and the shops selling, no more six week holidays over the summer or fry-ups cooked for us on a Sunday morning when we’ve drunk too much on a Saturday night.

Keep The Peoples’ Friend and Scottish Country Life for reminiscing of better days, and we’ll keep that top shelf filth we read on booze, gadgets, birds and fashion to ourselves. When it comes to mainstream media however, let’s try and come to some sort of balance.

Tags: uk
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

Hanging out of a microbus door has got to be one of the best (of a bad bunch) workouts here for the upper arms and shoulders. Yes, the physical fitness scene here is shite, loping around a cricket field is never going to get rid of that curry and rice pot belly everyone seems to have.

I’m cutting a terribly dashing figure, it’s as if I’m piloting a laser in a terribly prestigious sailing cup, squatting precariously out over a raging sea, face rugged and determined, licking salt spray from my lips and doing my utmost to beat those damn Yanks and bring glory and honour home to dear old England,

Not really. Yet again cheap public transport calls, and it’s a busy day…

Tea and toast await me at the end of this journey, but the aromas of street stalls and rainbows of fresh fruit at the street side (coated in fumes, but still preferable to cling film, Tesco) send tropical shaped doubts in to my mind, and I’m confused- the exhaust must be getting to my head- should I alight, ditch the pencilled-in chat about politics and gorge myself on papaya? Too late! (famous figure who never could decide), the express is off, and with a jet-like roar the engines fire up and we head north east ish.

Into the Abyss…

We race with other, rusty, clanking vehicles, horns for once welcome as they mask the spluttering and groaning our engine is emitting. I fear I must shoulder some of the responsibility for this, and I also feel that the blame for the craft being side-heavy and making no progress towards pole position in this race up the hill could, somehow, be laid at my feet. Not that there is much room at my feet of course, they’re being scowled at by at least four other sandaled pairs who are of the opinion that the ledge of the van was far too crowded even before my clumsy appearance, and that an accidental trip would do a favour to everyone.

Yes, space is tight, there’s no denying it. The bridge, only built for a single, slight Nepali navigator now has to accommodate a European, who’s shortcut-spotting and insult exchanging skills are definitely in the spring of life. My lack of combat experience is brought painfully to light as we approach the roundabout and the road widens out threefold and we are engulfed in shell fire from a rival dreadnought. I am almost thrown from the deck, saved only by a scrawny, sunburnt arm. Our driver doesn’t fail us though, and we emerge from the putrid smoke, weaving, ducking and diving through the melee of burning rubber. God! Was that a red flag with a hammer and sickle? Drive man, drive! We are a particular target for these ruffians, the pilot is wearing a Stars and Stripes bandana, some idiot is displaying his bottle of Pepsi for every Tom, Dick and Harry to see, and Britney Spears adorns the rear of the ship. So, the pedal is hit, we make haste, choking a couple of goats who were stupidly standing in our wake.

Many moons later…..

Trafalgar is left behind as we sail past lush rice paddies, dotted with large homes, the engine running smoothly, grandmothers back to berating anyone within reach and we have left the city and can look up in awe at the foothills of the Himalaya. Stupas and temples poke up from a lush green carpet and small waterfalls can be seen. Even the dogs seem to appreciate the clean air and there is a collective sigh of relief from everyone except the driver who continues to scowl from behind his battered cap and worries about how much longer the suspension will last.

It’s my stop. I bang on the terribly fragile roof, yell pompously at the minute conductor, hand over a sweaty ten rupee note, and step down and walk away, bag slung over my shoulder with all the swagger I can muster. When I’m out of sight I can thank my lucky stars, collapse for five minutes in a relieved heap, and go and talk about the Maoists over a strong cup of Earl Grey.

Tags: nepal
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

‘YCL cadres demolish a house in Surkhet’, I read in the Kathmandu Post. Thuggery? Drunken vandalism? Nope, it was destroyed “as per wish of the people” according to the district leader “since they complained that it made the road congested” What obliging chaps. In the UK, the process is not quite so simple as a few whispers through the grapevine- council applications, endless surveys, counter applications and court hearings really do stifle the demolition industry. The youth wing of the Maoist Party of Nepal might not be so bad after all, we could all do with a bit of that over here and I wonder if they’d have time to deal with that monstrosity of a conservatory your next door neighbour obviously can’t afford but has put up anyway…. ?

The YCL (Youth/Young Communist League) is aligned with the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist), and now often does the rough work for the party, especially now that the latter is officially prohibited from doing so, being (technically at least) involved with the Eight Party Alliance and the peace process.

The organisation truly is a two headed beast though. We see youths muffled up with gloves and face masks taking part in city wide clean ups, we read of YCL cadres working to repair and maintain remote roads connecting distant villages and communities, something the current administration seems too busy, or unable to do. The recent Rayamajhi Commission, partly organised by the YCL has seen success in naming and shaming many royalist ministers still part of the interim government, who held posts and profited during the king’s autocratic rule, and so by default have no place in the ‘new Nepal’.

In the same article (Friday October the 5th) however, the YCL in Ghumti Kalikasthan threatened “physical action” if locals didn’t manage to cough up Rs 500,000 (about £3800) within a week, as compensation for an office vandalised one month ago. Further up the page, we read of YCL cadres exacting ‘tourism taxes’ from members of expeditions to Dhaulagiri, (a peak in the east of the country). Fair enough you might say, a permit to climb a mountain is expected. But this permit will be paid for at a government office in Kathmandu or Pokhara, any money taken by the Maoists will likely end up funding further ‘agitations’, aimed at derailing any future attempts at holding Constituent Assembly Elections. The elections have recently been postponed anyway, because of a Maoist walkout due to the failure of the other (7) parties to agree to declare the country a republic immediately.

So, the question of everyone’s lips is; Can our home grown neds learn from these Ghurkha hooligans?. Probably not I’m afraid, (on paper at least) the YCL is part of a political party, with its cadres fighting for the oppressed classes of the country (of which there are many) and striking against corruption and anyone who held power during the King’s recent stint at absolute rule, while the fine young men that roam our streets and parks seem to have no awareness of…..anything, even of who our Prime Minister is. ‘Battles’ in the northeast are fought over football shirt colours, easy and stupid young girls, and which part of our tiny county you’re from, not over political ideology or real grievances-it’s understandably difficult to bother to pay any attention towards the young warriors of Moray and the ‘problems’ they face. Alcohol too could be a problem. Of all of the misdemeanours of the YCL catalogued by the press here, rarely, if ever is alcohol a cause of the problem. Compare this to the shenanigans of the young scallywags in Forres….and well, I don’t even need to search for statistics. I just can’t see our boys giving up the Buckfast for the annual young hooligan conference in Geneva…

Of the course the YCL are not some kind of Secret Seven do-gooder bunch of happy young things. More often than not they are simply thugs, hiding behind a revolutionary mask in order to extort, rob and kidnap in the name of class war. Having suffered under the antics of the YCL for some time now, the public’s patience with the group is wearing extremely thin, (especially with the recent obstruction of publishing of The Kathmandu Post, and Kantipur newspapers by Maoist cadres) but with every looting, kidnap and strike, justification is always given, whether it be a corrupt minister’s naming and shaming, or a demolition as mentioned above. Often victims of scuffles with the group are compensated soon after. Can you see a young team of Scotland doing the same?

The YCL is undeniably a thorn in the side of Nepal’s extremely slow political process, merely doing the bidding of the Maoists who wish to disrupt any progress towards a functioning democracy. As the name suggests, the League is made up of youths, youths who are politically aware and active at least to a certain degree. The end, a socialist paradise free from the corruption, inequality and stagnation the country has suffered under for so long must look an attractive goal, attractive enough to justify violence being used attempting to attain it. The Maoists have cleverly sold themselves and their ideas to much of the youth- the people who one day may play huge parts in the future of the country, and whose participation is desperately needed (the current Prime Minister is an octogenarian, and the most active of a sluggish bunch of politicians). Hark back to Britain, where too large a proportion of the youth is staggeringly unaware of all current events, ones that are shaping their futures, and seems perfectly content to float along, drinkin’, fightin’ an’ shaggin’ every weekend away, and I’d much rather see a bunch of angry, vocal youths fighting for some sort of change in their country than a group of indifferent and pampered boys and girls involved in violence simply because they cannot think of anything better to do.

The YCL would always clean up your garden after taking it over for a rally, and if you received a beating at their hands, you’d more than likely receive a reason and possibly a receipt. Would you expect the same from the Forres Young Team?

Tags: nepal
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

Tihar is here! The best non-sacrificial festival of the year is now upon us.

Now I know my legions of fans will be wondering where I have been for the past while, and hoping upon hope that I've come back from my latest yeti-wrestling bout in one peice. Have no fear friends, I was merely down south, making an extremely risky and perilous border run. Safely installed in my Himalayan seat again though, I will now tell the tale...


I'd forgotten how beautiful the Terai (the flat part of Nepal which borders India) is until then, having succumbed to the typical Kathmandu attitute that the plains are hot, sweaty, malaria infested and inhabited by Indians. Sitting on the roof of the bus perched between the bus boy and his friend ,speaking absolutley atrocious Nepali, and whistling at ramro keties, (beautiful girls) was quite a laugh, and a wonderfull tonic for the smog and hustle of the capital. The Terai is like India; hazy and lazy; rice fields everywhere which surround pastel coloured homes, sometimes with people working in them. Nothing really moves, no wind, and only the occasional horn of a truck on the way up from the real Indian plains below disturbs the silence, which is looked upon by the first real foothills of the Himalaya.

A surprisingly good road turned into not such a good road upon entering the hills, however the sharp twists and turns completely failed to make any impression on the driver, and he steamed on regardless of who was clinging on to his roof rack. After several cold hours on the roof (I lent my jacket to the bus boy, and graciously let him keep it as he had nothing else to keep him warm but a T-shirt. Idiot. It was only this morning that I realised that the 400 rupees I had lost were in the pocket of that very jacket. Karma now topped up, I don't have to give to beggars for at least another week), kept only from death's door by hot milky tea, we made the familiar turn into the Kathmandu Valley and saw the metropolis stretch out before us. Even in it's smoggy glory, the lights that adorn every building due to Tihar (the Nepali Diwali) still manage to shine through. It's isolation and complete lack of regard for anything living in it make me love it more, and it was with a smile that I walked up the steps to my appartment. Wiped off when I had to take a cold shower. Landlord hasn't got round to turning on the hot switch yet...

So, another round of Tihar tonight, can't remember what animal gets the special treatment today, think it's buff. Yesterday was cows, and the day before was dogs. Who really deserve the break, getting kicked, punched and having stones thrown at them every other day of the year. And taunted by the monkeys.

Right, it's been about a week without the shisha, mother, so I'm off to rouse some friends and poison my lungs...

Tags: nepal
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

The monsoon has decided to return with a vengeance after tempting us with a few days of hot sunshine and clear skies, and did so on Tuesday with a rather fierce thunder storm that managed to knock out the power. Out came the candles, and quicker than a lightning flash the room of knowledge, inspiration and discipline was transformed into a romantic chamber, with soft shadows dancing across everyone’s faces…all of which was completely lost on the middle-aged class of students I was teaching. I, however, enjoyed it immensely and am hoping for a repeat.

After, it was a short trip out to Swayambhu stupa (kind of a wee temple, Buddhist) in the west of the city, to meet the principal of a private school. Quite an interesting walk, once round the back of the temple (where you sneak in using one of the paths that lead up the hill) the road becomes a kind of no man’s land between the territory held by the monkeys of the temple, and the street dogs of the other side. On the left was a caravan of monkeys, obviously on the warpath somewhere, while the other side of the road was host to an equally rabid party of dogs, probably on a scouting mission prior to Wednesday’s alcohol and testosterone fuelled brawl between the two species up the park, like. Can’t say I’m particularly bothered by the outcome, both carry rabies. And fleas.

I’m missing the autumn of back home-the crisp skies, crunchy leaves, Rugby (’mon the ENG-GER-LUND!)etc etc etc. Out here I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact that it feels like summer (and a good one) in October. So, you in the woollen socks and with wood fire going, appreciate the autumn, at least you’re not sweating by 8am. Soon December will be here, you’ll drink too much, wake up, make up new resolutions and be back to gurning by the time February’s put its head around the door. Yes.

Oh, met the BBC correspondent for Nepal the other day. Didn’t offer me a job.

Deshain is currently in full swing, and goats, chickens and buffalo are being sacrificed at temples across the city. How a dead chicken manages to appease the gods (numerous) still puzzles me, but we’ll leave that for another day when someone religious does something stupid and I’m feeling mean. Dead non-bovines aside, it brings a welcome holiday from the school, which will hopefully be spent somewhere out of the haze and smog practicing Nepali.

Still no news on the promised coup, does anyone know any ex-public schoolboys kicking about with time on their hands? Maybe the son of an ex-PM? Should get things off the ground…

Current Location: Ktm,Nepal

Like clean water from a tap and civil servants, the coup has failed to appear. Never fear, there's still hope, nothing has really been sorted out today at all, apart from some of the parties agreeing to condemn the abduction of journalist Birendra Sah. He's strongly suspected to have been spirited away by a group affiliated to the Maoists, or Maoists themselves for exposing illegal activities involving their cadres and the timber trade. So that's that then. We can all enjoy the weekend (only one day here, something else needing to be urgently addressed) and the start of Dashain knowing that 'they' have done all they can to sort out the current fiasco.

So don't loose heart just yet. Nepal still might be in with a chance to join the military government club (current South Asian members; Burma, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Sri Lanka ).

'Tim'

Tags: nepal
Current Location: Behind a cloud of shisha smoke...

Recently recieved a question regarding who the Famous Five were. Obvously from an unlettered oaf living in a a cave somewhere, but I'll be nice and provide an explaination...
Back in the 50's and 60's, a woman called Enid Blyton (adored by schoolkids then, but now not so well looked upon today as everyone's discovered she was actually a bit of a racist) wrote a series of books detailing the capers and adventures of 4 school kids and their dog, Timothy. It was all 'jolly good', ginger beer, homemade sandwiches and catching jewel thieves, kidnappers and the like.....could have taught the layabouts of today a thing or two is the point I'm trying to make, while sounding very much like a octenagarian, tea sipping, country house owning, white haired collumist for The Daily Telegraph. I'm not. I'm 20.

Current Location: Ktm, Nepal