Walk Down the Death Hill

05 July 2013: As we left our hotel a little later than usual : at 8.30 am, and we went to the local administrative office. One or two officials were beginning to come at about 9.00 am. We took some information from them about a relief camp in Dhapa and in Jimighat which functions as a transit relief camp. We decided to go to these places as they were next to each other: Dhapa camp along the road side, after which there is no road connection (as it has been cut off) and Jimighat down below the hill. We crossed Dhapa after about 50 minutes of drive on a bad damaged road, and went further for about a kilometer, beyond which we could not proceed. We decided to walk. Initially, the road wasn’t bad. As we began to walk down, we met two village travelers walking up. I stopped them and ask where they were heading to, where are they coming from and how long is the distance. One of them stopped to answer: We have been walking well beyond Martoli (closer to Indo-China border) for the last five days, and we shall reach Munsiyari today. There is no food in the hills, and so we have been walking, going past one transit camp after another so that we can get some work, live in a relative’s home, and have some food. They said that their families are in the ITBP camps and may be shifted by the army once the weather gets better. I told these men to wait for us at Dhapa camp so that we can give them a lift to Munsiyari when we return.

We then walked down towards Jimighat. It was a steep, almost 80 deg slope down hill. We were holding on to few roots and rocks in several places as the path was wet and slippery. It was like learning to walk like a little kid in all fours! The walk down the hill alone took full 40 minutes. It was a very tall mountain indeed! When we reached there we saw a kind of a little tent which the men there (who were going around smoking and looked drunk) said, “This is the relief camp!” When we introduced ourselves they brought a banner and hanged on it, and they were happy to get photographed. I walked and saw that it is just a single room structure with lots of holes, filthy, and dark. They were cooking food for lunch. I realized soon that these men were smoking hash, and were blowing it upon your nose! We also found a large notice on one side of it : “Hotel School mein hai” (which means, “The hotel has been shifted to the school !” So, where is the school? The school does not function for want of students. Due to repeated disasters and social issues most children are staying in Munsiyari town for studies. (This is an information that we could empirically verify, although people said that it is true that many families in upper hills keep their children in smaller towns.) There was a little bridge that connects the Milam sector with the main area next to this camp. People coming from the Milam sector can sit here, eat, relax and then walk ahead.  The bridge was in a very dilapidated condition and can break any moment. We visited few families in the neighborhood, spoke to them. I hardly saw women, and just a few children, in comparison to the number of men. I kept wondering where have they all gone? This place is a clear threat to children and women. (I heard on next day in Munsiyari that in the Jimighat camp, on 5^th evening, after we had left, a woman was molested.)

The walk up was still more tiresome. We had to stop several times as our heartbeat went up and perspiring too much. On our way up, picked those two travelers at Dhapa camp, and traveled back to Munsiyari. 

Flying Through the Sleepy Mountains

On 2 July we had a meeting at SIDCUL, within the IT park, Dehradun with Additional Secretary, Disaster Management Department and other UN officials. We were briefed about the districts, given contact numbers in those districts, and divided into smaller teams to assess the situation in five different districts. In our team we were five members: Rahul Pandit, Dr. Abhijit B, Ms. Bharati S, and Mr. Subrat Dash, and me. I am to function as the team leader and we were scheduled to visit Pithoragarh district. I was informed by my friends that Pithoragarh is a very far off district, and might take about 15 – 17 hours of journey on road. Late night we were told that we would be taken by a helicopter, and I was given a number to contact at the airport.

An aerial view from the helicopter

On 3 July, at 9.00 am we left for Jolly Grant Airport. I was enquiring from the driver why this airport is named after a person called “Jolly Grant”, but he was not able to explain it. When we reached there, we were received by a messenger who took us through the security system in the airport. It was tough to get in because we had lot of materials that cannot normally be taken on a plane. The security personnel were strict. Once we proved our genuineness we were sent by a car to the helipad within the airport area. I met a gentleman called Mr. Sathya who is the Civil Aviation Manager at the airport. He is from Andhrapradesh, a southern state of India. I spent lot of time in his chamber to understand the hardships these gentlemen faced during the rescue operations after the flashfloods since 16 June and how they coped with it. He was narrating how it was tough on them as they spent hardly two to three hours of sleep, at times in the airport itself. Helicopter and aero plane maintenance, weather forecast follow up, VIP movement, extra number of planes carrying rescued people etc. kept the personnel at the normally sleepy Jolly Grant airport on tenderhooks. Our chopper took off around 12.20, more than an hour after hour scheduled time as the first flight of the chopper had delayed, and so had returned late, and then the captain had to take a break.

While all of us were fit with ear pads to reduce exposure to the chopper’s howling roar, I was fit with a pair of earphones and a microphone through which I can speak to the captain, in case of an emergency, and the captain can speak to me as well, if required. We were amused that the captain and the first officer were using manual maps to navigate through the forests and high mountains to fly to Pithoragarh. There are no ATCs in the area. So, on the alto meter I could see that the reading could be over 10,000 ft at a point, and suddenly it would show it is between 2000 – 4000 ft, and then it would rise to 8,000 and above in few seconds. The reasons are simple : we were flying over some very steep mountains, so when we were flying on a valley the alto meter showed that we were flying high, and suddenly, as we flew over a cliff, it was within a threatening distance. (No wonder, planes and helicopters crash on a bad weather day as they follow the manual maps which leaves lots of scope for human error.

As we landed in Pithoragarh airport, a  makeshift one, that is being repaired to make it into an all weather one, we were received by the District Collector and a very able leader: Mr. Neeraj Kherwal- which is another story.

Web Based Emergency Needs Assessment

I had been planning to write earlier than this....but too many travels and field visits kept me under wraps. Meanwhile, we have started test running a Web Based Emergency Needs Assessment (ENA) format that can help organizations to file their reports within 72 hours after a disaster strikes. The format is simple and is made user friendly for organizations to fill in the formats in quickest time. All filled in formats can be viewed by any user, but can only be edited or new forms can be uploaded only by authorized users. The idea is to allow only genuine non-profit organizations to participate in this. So, any organization within India (international, national and community based non-profits) can freely register and use this service.

We plan to upgrade the service over a period of time and seeing the utility, suggestions and feedback. All are welcome to visit:  ena.cks.org.in  For testing you may use the username : approved and for password: redchair123


We will be happy to receive feedback from each and everyone of you. Our thanks goes to Mr. Edward U, a student of Seattle University, who volunteered to prepare the site for the benefit of Indian people.