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Tag Archives: gangtok
“Should be fantastic as long as we survive the journey”
Yeah boy, straight up reportage. Work it.
GANGTOK, 13 Sept: The Autumn 2010 Rickshaw Run kicked off in Gangtok on Sunday, with 71 teams from around the world gathering to begin a 3500 km journey to Jaisalmer, Rajasthan armed with little but their wits and what they can carry in a three-wheeled auto-rickshaw.
The Rickshaw Run is a charity event organised by the League of Adventurists International, a British company headquartered in Bristol which runs four other similar events throughout the developing world. The Rickshaw Run was first held this past April and is going to be held three times a year, in the spring, autumn and winter. The first run ended here in Gangtok, and now those same auto-rickshaws are to used by new teams setting out in the opposite direction.
Taking a variety of routes through northern India and Nepal, the teams have two weeks to reach Jaisalmer. The Rickshaw Run is not a race, however, and there is no winner except the group who managed to raise the most for charity, currently a group called Arm Chair Loaf.
Each of the teams must raise at least 1000 British pounds (about Rs. 70,000) for one of two sponsored charities: FRANK Water Projects, which funds clean water facilities, and Maiti Nepal, which works for to project Nepali women and girls from trafficking and domestic abuse. Those teams that raise more can also donate to an additional charity of their choice.
A team from the United States, whose rickshaw was named “Raiders of the Lost Tuk” after the classic Indiana Jones film and the colloquial name for auto-rickshaws in Southeast Asia, raised around US$10,000 for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. One of the team members, Jim Matheson of San Francisco, has type 1 diabetes.
“I’m more excited for this than I would be for my wedding day,” said Brianna Limebrook from Boston, the leader of the “Raiders” team.
The 175 participants met with their vehicles Sunday morning in front of the Tourism Department office at MG Marg, where the Sikkim Police Band performed and tourism officials spoke to a crowd of gathered onlookers.
Many of the teams wore colourful costumes or outrageous uniforms with themes to match their artfully decorated rickshaws. One team of three stood out in the crowd with a set of neon coloured suits: one green, one orange, one pink. Another was making the journey dressed in black-tie tuxedos and sneakers covered in shiny black tape. Despite their bombastic outfits, however, the racers expressed a very down to earth mixture of excitement and nervousness.
“Should be fantastic as long as we survive the journey,” said Sweyn Alsop from England, a member of the tuxedo team. Mr. Alsop added that he wished his tux was a rental.
“Probably the silliest idea we’ve ever had,” said Mark Burton of London.
Even as the event organisers made their final speeches, some of the teams were still scrambling with preparations, like packing last minute snacks and filling their vehicles with petrol.
When the mass of rickshaws finally set off, however, the scene was a bit anticlimactic. The teams were allowed to head down the hill only a few at a time, so as not to disrupt the busy Sunday traffic. As the crowd dispersed, a few stragglers remained, stymied by engine trouble and key mixups.
The Rickshaw Riders
So this weekend Gangtok was flooded with over 175 white people here for the start of the Rickshaw Run, a ‘charity adventure’ of sorts that has them traveling in three-wheeled auto-rickshaws from Gangtok all the way (3500 km) to Jaisalmer in Rajasthan. I had a great time covering the event, with all these interesting characters to talk to. I’ll post my coverage later this week, but I was so excited at some of the people shots I took in the crowd that I wanted to get them up first.
Posted in photography
Tagged color, gangtok, india, people, photography, Sikkim, travel
The Game is Flat
I’m not sure if Bosing is Sikkim’s first rapper, but I’ve heard over and over again that his self-titled album is “Sikkim’s first full-length hip-hop album.” Bosing is a 24-year-old from the village of Lingmoo in South Sikkim. His album was recorded and produced in a studio in Tadong. The album was being put out as the first such project by Gangtok nightspot Café Live & Loud. By every account, it should be a very Sikkimese piece of music. Except it isn’t.
I met Bosing, whose given name is Tashi Wangchuk Rapgyal, this week to talk about his music. He is quick to tell me about his primary musical influence and artistic role-model: Tupac Shakur (sometimes “2Pac”), the famous and genre-defining West Coast gangster rapper, tragically killed in his prime in 1996. Bosing pulls up his sleeve and shows me the somewhat incomplete but still undeniably clear sketch of Tupac he has tattooed on his right shoulder.
“Tupac was the first to come out with real gangster rap,” Bosing tells me excitedly. Bosing’s album is filled with talks of gangsters and “gees” and of famous American street gangs like the Bloods and the Crips, as well as direct allusions to Tupac’s lyrics. Plentiful too are references to the classic East Coast/West Coast rivalry that defined hip-hop through the nineties and into the aughties — a battle in which Bosing unwaveringly aligns himself with the West, both stylistically and ideologically.
As we talk, we are sitting in the second floor of a Cacao, my favourite café in MG Marg, and I lean over the railing to watch the shoppers placidly wandering the pleasant street. I’m not the best judge in the world, but it just might be one of the least gangster places in the world. It is hard to imagine anyone getting shot coming out of Café Live & Loud. It is a low blow, but I ask Bosing if he feels like a gangster and if he thinks he might one day get gunned down by a rival like his idol.
“I’m not a gangster, not a deadly thug, but thuggish in my own way,” he replied.
That seems as fine an answer as any, and as a white, nerdy, suburban kid from the American Midwest, I’ll be the first to admit that hip-hop’s ideas and aesthetics (even the “gangster” ones) can be appealing and meaningful to many outside rap’s original demographic of poor African-Americans from the urban ghettos. Still, one has to wonder what terms like “gangster,” “bloods and crips,” “East Coast, West Coast,” “thugged out,” “ghetto gospal,” et al mean here in Sikkim, so far removed from their original context. It seems to me that “keeping it real” and “holding it down for the red ones” may be fundamentally different acts in Gangtok than in Brooklyn or Compton.
For me, as a reviewer of this sort of thing, that is the crux of my difficulty processing this album. Divorced from all context and history, Bosing is an earnest and talented rapper whose first album strikes me as pleasantly unremarkable. Bosing’s lyrics at times feel like strung-together catch phrases that could be inserted into nearly any poppy hip-hop song today without raising comment. This is not entirely a bad thing. His beats are catchy and his tracks well put together. His flow is adequate and his rhymes usually rhyme. All this makes Bosing’s first album quite entertaining.
A couple songs do stand out to me. “Love You Mom” is a heartfelt ode to Bosing’s mother, and all single mothers. “Holding It Down” recalls the violent history of hip-hop rivalries and pleads for an end to it all because “we can’t live like this forever.” “Lost Loved Ones” remembers, well, lost loved ones. Sentiments like these are actually fairly common throughout hip-hop, but these sorts of songs rarely become chart toppers or club bangers and are thus less remembered. That Bosing chose to include his own versions on his album is to me a clear testament to his nuanced understanding of the genre.
Despite all these fine qualities, I can’t quite get over the fact that this album, billed as “Sikkim’s first hip-hop album,” lacks anything that feels even remotely Sikkimese, or even Indian. But for a couple passing references to Delhi and Lingmoo, an uninformed listener would have absolutely no clue even what continent this music comes from. It is almost uncannily generic. In fact, between all the references to American street gangs and such and the fact that Bosing raps and sings entirely in English — the language he tells me he finds most “convenient” — and has a very indistinct accent, one would probably assume it came from somewhere in the USA. (Not that I’m complaining about the lyrics being in English, mind, as it certainly makes my job reviewing it easier.)
This album feels a bit anonymous in time as well as space. Bosing raps a bit about his haters and say he is “coming around with another hit, man, another hit, man.” But this is Bosing’s first album, his breakout debut. Does he already have haters worth taking down in song? When has he produced hits before this? All of these are phrases that get used a lot in hip-hop, in one form or another, but knowing Sikkim and having briefly met Bosing, it all seems a bit off to me.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I didn’t exactly think Bosing’s album would be all talk of pujas or Himalayan majesty or…or whatever. But I did expect a certain amount of inherent Indian-ness.
I am actually a bit ashamed of this rather orientalist line of thinking, but there is a second (preferable) explanation besides that I’m easily sucked in by stereotypes. It could be that hip-hop is now global, flat, accessible to all and no longer tied to any particular demographic or culture — so much so that it doesn’t matter where you are from anymore, and that the East Coast and West Coast are no longer places but ideals.
Discussing some of our favourite artists working today, Bosing mentions The Game, a fantastic rapper coming out of retirement in the next few months. “A month back I got into trouble, and I kept wondering ‘why did it happen to me?’ When I listened to Game, it helped me figure out what I’d been through,” Bosing says.
Maybe it is all universal, and the attitudes of gangster rap, with its aggressive and darkly confident stance towards life, can find purchase in any life, anywhere. And maybe in this moment some of the social critiques of gangster rap can apply just as well to India, even Sikkim. Bosing points me to a line in his album alluding to a Tupac lyric about “a black panther born in the ghetto every twenty minutes.” Replace ‘ghetto’ with ‘slum’ and ‘black panther’ with a more generic rebel, anyone oppressed and fighting those in power — well, it does apply to India, doesn’t it?
I don’t think there is an answer to the question this implies: whether it is better to rep your origins and your past as uniquely as possible or to fully integrate with a global movement and help determine its destination and its future. For now, I’m content to just keep an eye on Bosing to see where he goes next. He tells me he is planning to release a music video for “Holding It Down” in the next couple weeks. He hopes to soon be travelling to Hyderabad and Delhi to perform at clubs and concerts. He is already working on his second album.
Bosing’s self-titled album is available at Café Live & Loud on Tibet Road in Gangtok.
Above the Tarp
They had all these tarps up over MG Marg a couple weeks back, as part of the Pang Lhabsol festival. Most were more colorful than this, thankfully. Watching the tarps get taken down later was a delightful little scene.
I have been told I tie my shoes like a child
Pictured above is, according to Anupa, the correct and adult way to tie one’s shoes, and more comfortable besides. Okay.
Posted in photography
Tagged color, fashion, gangtok, india, NOW, photography, Sikkim
Notes on a Monsoon
It is thick into the monsoon season here in Sikkim, a time of great beauty and great inconvenience. Today I mean to go down to Sikkim University to speak to some visiting academics, but I was already soaked by the time I got to the main road. I waited futilely for a taxi to 6th Mile, but the few that bothered to stop for me were unwilling to go that far. And the rain was picking up, so I pulled my coat tight and shuffled back into the office.
I don’t mind the rains, usually. Even the monsoon has its patterns, and most days you can count on it raining in the late afternoon, leaving my mornings clear to go to the bazaar and my evening walk home muddy but tolerable. Even walks in the rain don’t bother me much. I have a vintage 1970s trench coat that had once been my dad’s, and I fancy myself quite the journalist in it, striding through the storm. For no particular reason I refuse to buy an umbrella.
And the season has its perks: the clouds. They layer the valley in the morning in ways that a prairie boy like myself could scarcely imagine. They roll up through town a clean white mist, obscuring past too many meters like the fog of war. Last night I opened my window and was shocked to see my own silhouette projected by lamplight deep into the thick cloud outside my room.
This year we are getting a proper monsoon, which is often especially crazy in Sikkim. A couple days of wet can quickly penetrate the soft Himalayas, loose the soil and cause landslides all over the state. But proper monsoons are good, since the glacier-fed rain here slides down the hills to water a huge swath of northern India. The storms, though they wash out roads and tumble power lines and leave the whole city a muddy mess, are necessary to rice agriculture in Asia. Even in Bangladesh, a country half-destroyed by floods several times a year, rural people perform weird little rituals, like frog marriages, to encourage the monsoons to come.
But then, it is hard to know what “proper” weather is anymore. With Pakistan underwater and Russia on fire, the sky has a certain sinister sheen to it these days. Sikkim feels it keenly, as our precious glaciers get smaller every year. Water in the subcontinent is on a terrifying time limit, and Sikkim will be the first to know when it runs out.
Rain is the kind of thing that I can always write about. Rain is primordial and perennial, but still constantly contemporary. It is beyond our control and yet, these days, its excesses feel like our own fault. And, yes, it makes my nose run and ruins my white canvas shoes. But a wet world feels infinitely more alive than a dry one.
I expect I’ll keep writing about rain, occasionally, when I feel compelled to write but have no topic at hand. I have to. It’s in me, somehow: the sky and the clouds and everything they do and everything beyond them. I am an up sort of person, even when it is pouring down.
A Sample of My Reporting
I don’t do that much straight up reporting for the daily edition of NOW, and when I do I don’t usually post it here, since it doesn’t have much interest outside of Sikkim. But today I thought I’d put up a little sample of the kind of stuff I occasionally cover and what my straighter news writing looks like.
Storytelling project to create 100+ meter digital art banner
GANGTOK, 10 Aug: A creative collective called the Indigenous Storytellers Network kicked off a new project in Gangtok today that plans to create a 120 meter long digital art banner — the longest of its kind in the world. The Great Sotry-Wall Project banner will be stitched together from several pieces of cloth and will feature 120 separate tribal stories told with a combination of photography, art and text. The group hopes to display the banner for several days at MG Marg starting 25 September before taking it on a six month tour around Sikkim and the rest of India.
After their kick-off event at MG Marg this morning, the group moved to Rachna Books in Development Area, which will serve as the team’s headquarters as it designs the banner over the next several weeks. The team will be assisted by students from Greendale Secondary School in Tadong, who will contribute photos, artwork and stories. The project is also open to any members of the public that wish to contribute, assist or simply observe the group’s progress. Next week the Network will set up a multimedia exhibition at Rachna Books, including a film festival.
By using new forms of media and attracting attention through the banner’s extraordinary length, the Indigenous Storytellers Network hopes the project will introduce a new generation to a variety of traditional tales and folklore — especially from tribes in Sikkim, whose stories are expected to make up 70% of the banner.
“Folklore is at the heart of any indigenous society. Each story contains a vital message, some moral, some scientific, some spiritual,” said Salil Mukhia, one of the project leaders, this morning. “Losing a story isn’t just losing culture. You lose a great deal of traditional knowledge.”
The project is expected to cost seven to ten lakhs rupees. The Network hopes to find most of this funding by offering space at one end of the banner for sponsors to print photos or logos. Individual sponsors can reserve a spot for Rs. 300, organisations for Rs. 1000.
“We want to do the fund raising in such a way that people feel involved in the creative process,” said Karma Choden Bhutia, the group’s spokesperson.
The Network has received confirmation from the Limca Book of Records that the banner will likely be included in the 2012 edition as the world’s longest piece of digital art. ‘Digital art’ usually refers to images created or manipulated by software such as Adobe Photoshop.
Most of the stories on the banner will be creation myths, many of which were collected at the Confluence 2010 ‘collective-sharing’ event held here in Gangtok last month.
“It is about remembering who we are and where we come from,” said Prakash Chettri, a chief prefect at Greendale Secondary School and part of the student group contributing to the project. “In other words, our origins.”
What I Did When I Couldn’t Find A Job
Check it out, everybody! I have a piece in this week’s Chronicle of Higher Education about “going global” in a bad job market.
As you know, I had a rather unusual solution to my post-graduatino unemployment. I moved to India. It was the right move for me at the time, but I also think moving to the developing world to wait out the depression can work for many Millennials. It is a pretty favela chic way to handle things, but thems the times we live in. And no matter what age you live in, having a broad global perspective makes you a better worker and a better person.
So check it out, and tell your friends.
http://chronicle.com/article/What-I-Did-When-I-Couldnt/66281/
Tagged chronicle, chronicle of higher education, cohe, D2, economy, favela chic, gangtok, india, travel



















