Number 2

Introduction

We moved to New Delhi in June 1972, at the height of the dry monsoon, and suffered mightily until the wet monsoon broke in July, reducing temperatures. That helped immensely, and we recovered from our shock quickly as the weather became more hospitable. The fall and early winter in north India is a nice time of the year, and we reveled in the sudden appearance of fresh flowers, lots of green vegetable in the market, and meat and fish that were approachable.

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Winter 1972

We were anxious to get out of New Delhi, to see something of the rest of India. What more intriguing place than Kashmir? We were really ignorant about India, and Kashmir. So we went there not having the least idea of what to expect. We booked reservations in a house boat on Dahl Lake, and flew there on Indian Airlines. We left the two kids in New Delhi with the servants. It was October, and when we landed in Srinagar, it was snowing lightly. Wow! Snow! Imagine. I am pretty sure that that was the first time my Vietnamese wife had seen snow.

The house boat was a single bedroom affair, built of cedar wood, consisting of a bedroom in the stern, a small bath room, a small area sort of like an abbreviated kitchen, a dining room and sitting room forward. The bow of the boat was a covered porch for sitting to look at the lake.

The houseboat was furnished with surprisingly wonderful elegance that only India can provide. Fine upholstered furniture, hand tied carpets on the floor, paintings on the walls, and other small things to make a very pleasant and comfortable venue. All in aromatic cedar. We were tied up to the bank of the lake, and a family came with the boat, to prepare the meals, take care of the boat, and us, and in general be responsible for our comfort.

Not a telephone in sight, no TV, no radio. Just blessed silence on the still waters of Dahl lake.

After unpacking our bags, and settling into the cabin, we went to town in a water taxi. A shakara, poled by a boatman. The perfectly calm waters of Dahl lake, the mountains ringing the area, and the cool weather was soothing to us; we were still reeling from the heat of the dry monsoon in the lowlands.

Downtown Srinagar was a typically crowded urban scene. Not many motor vehicles; lots of pedaled cyclos, and 3-wheeled motors scooter taxis to get around in. People everywhere, all talking and shouting to each other. It quickly became apparent to us that no 5-day visit would allow us to do justice to getting acquainted with Srinagar, so we agreed that we would have to come back for another visit.

Kashmir is famous for its paper mache lacquer ware. Bowls, boxes with lids, trays, vases, etc. Fashioned from paper mache, then lacquered to a fine finish, and hand painted in intricate designs as only the Indians can do. Fantastically beautiful patterns, colors. We bought a beautiful lamp base, about 20” tall, that was a prize of artistry. We still have it, and treasure it as a priceless memento of India.

Wood carvings, usually employing the maple leaf motif, are also a hallmark of Kashmir. We bought a 4-panel screen of wood, carved intricately in the maple leaf motif. We were quickly accumulating a pile of things that we would have to take special measures to ship home to New Delhi.

Perhaps the most famous item from Kashmir are its carpets. Hand tied by children and young women, employing 400 knots per square inch into a incredibly complex design. Silk is the best, since it will allow up toe 600 knots per square inch, and therefore produce an extremely high quality carpet. Children are the best for this work, since they have small fingers needed to tie the tiny knots. We visited the ‘factory’ where these carpets were being tied. It is a long process, requiring months to finish one 4 x 6’ carpet. I don’t remember the prices, but we bought 2 or 3, and added them to our store of treasures from Kashmir. The prices seemed high at the time, but I can tell you, judging from later visits to India in 2003, they were dirt cheap.

One day there, we took a day trip in a car outside Srinagar to see the rural areas, and get an idea of what the country was like. We drove along narrow dirt roads in the Kashmir valley, between fields of saffron lilies, their light blue flowers on short stems, stretching out in the distance. Saffron is an extremely valuable product, worth more than gold on a weight basis. What impressed me about the saffron fields was the lack of foliage…just the blue flowers.

Streams of water cascaded down the hills, full of trout. Fishermen come here from all over to catch the native trout in the streams.

When we returned to Srinagar, and to our boat house, we were starving. But it was not yet sundown, and there was no food on the table. As soon as the sun set, the food magically appeared, and we ate. Fine china, and sterling silver cutlery. [During the British Raj, the currency was the silver Indian rupee, a handsome coin about the size of a U.S. 50 cent piece. When independence came after WW2, silver was demonetized, and there was an abundance of silver coins for using in fabricated silver items and for saving as bullion. Silver in New Delhi was consistently trading below London bullion prices.] That was when we learned that it was Ramadan, the Muslim season of fasting during daylight hours. It was something new to us.

The food was Indian. I do not recall what we were served, but it was probably a dish of chicken curry, some sort of goat kebabs (chunks of meat marinated in seasoned yoghurt, and broiled on a stick), curried dahls, chapattis or paratha, and steamed basmati rice, all served with several kinds of chutney. I recall it as being an elaborate and delicious meal.

After the dinner, the temperature was dropping fast. We were tired from the day’s activities. We retired to the bedroom to find that the bed had been warmed with a charcoal-fired ‘iron’ to take the chill off the sheets. What a considerate touch that was! We slipped between the warm sheets, and drifted off to sleep.

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