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Published: November 6th 2015
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1983/4 - My Mum with a group of children from Sharp Memorial School for the Blind visiting Mussoorie Just over thirty years ago when my Mum was 18 years old she took an incredibly brave trip to India on her own. Mum had changed her mind about what course she wanted to do at University and decided that she wanted to do nursing instead, but it was too late to apply for that year so she was forced to take a gap year. Deciding that she didn’t want to stay at home but wanted to do something helpful in another country she applied through a Christian missionary society to volunteer for 10 months at Sharp Memorial School for the Blind in Uttarakhand, North India. In the early 80s gap years were not so common and hardly any young foreigners would travel, especially on their own, to places like India. There was no internet and no mobile phones, Mum would write letters weekly back home to tell her family she was safe. There were also no banking cards or ATMs and she would have to get out travellers cheques from the bank. The stories that my Mum has told me about her trip to India have always captivated me and she is the person who inspired me to take my
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Sharp Memorial School for the Blind now trip to India this year.
So my one month solo adventures began, quite appropriately, in the place where it all started, visiting my Mum’s school. On Sunday evening I took an overnight bus from Mcleod Ganj to Dehradun arriving at 6am when it was still dark. There was a bit of confusion as I was not dropped off at the bus station and so decided to take a tuktuk to the bus station, not realising that this was quite far away from where I needed to be going. Arriving at the bus station it was still dark so I had a chai and waited until it got light so I could see better what I needed to do next. Once light I asked several people the best way to get to Rajpur, which is the town that the school is in, slightly out of Dehradun city. I was told the cheapest way was by local bus and so I clambered onto a rickety old bus with all my bags for an hour and half ride around the hills to Rajpur.
When I arrived at the school I was warmly welcomed by the superintendent of the school and his
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A blind teacher teaches blind children how to count wife who were hosting me. I was so shattered from my long journey so I took rest and when I awoke Sumana, the superintendent’s wife gave me a tour around the campus. Just after my Mum left the school P.M and Sumana Samuel took over the running of the school and have absolutely transformed it, it’s amazing how much work they have done in thirty years. The school itself has probably tripled in size. They have rebuilt the main house and also have new guest houses and cottages for visitors to stay. There is a stable for cows where they make, sell and eat fresh milk and curd every day. They have also extended the chapel and the girl’s hostel. When my Mum was at the school there were just sixteen children and there were always more girls than boys. There were also a lot of old ladies, known as Buas living on the campus. Now they have well over a hundred students at the school; a mix of sighted, low vision and blind children. They don’t have as many Buas because sadly they passed away. But in the girl’s hostel they now have 75 girls living there and in
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Me and a group of low vision and blind children at the school the boys hostel there are 19.
Sumana introduced me to the Buas and it was absolutely incredible that they remembered my Mum. One of them asked me in Hindi ‘How’s your Mumma, is she here?’ to which I just broke down and cried. There was one woman who was around 10/11 when my Mum was at the school and she teaches music and brail and lives on the campus with her daughter who is about 10/11 now. She had low vision when my Mum was there but is now completely blind but she has the most amazing memory of my Mother. She told me so many stories; my Mum bringing the children sweets, taking them for evening walks and teaching her piano. I think Mum must have inspired her to learn and teach music. She also remembers my Mum teaching her Christmas carols and a song which my Mum wrote herself, she sang some of the carols to me and she has a beautiful voice. It was great to meet her, she has such a loving heart and beautiful soul and she told me that she desperately wants to see my Mum again.
On Tuesday I went to
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Beautiful Mussoorie at sunset the school for morning assembly and they presented me with flowers and sang the welcome song to me which was very sweet. I then got a tour around the school; the school has been so well thought out and had a lot of hard work and care put into it. I even got a chance to write the alphabet and my name in brail but it’s not easy, I kept making mistakes! I then spent the afternoon chatting with the ladies who knew my Mum and taking photos and playing with some of the children.
That evening I tuned up and took P.M’s guitar into the girl’s hostel. I started playing some Christian hymns that the girls knew and they sang with me. One blind girl from 12
th class was curious and then when I took her hand and said hello she just lit up and got so excited. I invited her to sit next to me and try playing the guitar. It was so incredible to watch a blind person touching and playing a guitar for the first time. Then the girl started to teach me two hymns but in Hindi. She took it very seriously and got
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Enjoying a great solo trek up the mountain in Mussoorie so excited when I sang the songs back to her correctly. I let her know that she was a good teacher and she gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. As I was leaving the girl’s hostel she held my hand and hugged me all the way to the door. I can only just begin to imagine how affected Mum was by living and volunteering there for ten months. I know how working at DCS has been a huge part of my life and now I understand how Sharp Memorial School for the Blind changed my Mum’s life.
On Wednesday I left Rajpur and went up into the hills to a pretty town called Mussoorie, where my Mum enjoyed spending time off. I’ve spent two days here mainly walking around and enjoying the peace of the hills. On Thursday after having a cheap and simple, but very filling breakfast at ‘the lovely omelette shop’ in the main market, I took a trek up the mountains and had such a great walk, it was so good to have some time to clear my head and walk for hours on my own. Mussoorie is where a lot of the British escaped to on their holidays in the Summer during the British Raj and it is clear that this little hill town has been influenced by the British. It also has some Tibetan influence but mainly feels very European to me; walking around the market I feel like I could be in a quaint French town rather than India. In the mountains I feel like I am in Germany with the tall thin pine tree forests and rolling mountain views. I’ve really enjoyed some time to myself in peaceful Mussoorie before my next adventure in Rishikesh which is where I will be heading today.
K xx
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Grand dad
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I wept
Bless you Kathrine