Gorkhaland for Gorkha's

I woke up to a cold silence. It was bliss. After the humidity of Kolkata, and over two years living in Asia this was the first morning since living in Oxford that I had woken up piled underneath blankets and with fresh air around my face. I stood under the shower and let hot water pour over my head and warm my body. I later read a sign requesting guests to limit their water consumption as it was in short supply. I was guiltily glad to have read the sign after my shower. The guest house was deserted but the streets were still full of casual activity. The sounds of shouting became louder, and gradually the first signs of yesterdays 'unrest' came into view. A large procession – headed by women – shouted their way up the hill. We stood and watched. The camaraderie made me miss marching: I thought about the London based Rhythms of Resistance, a pink drum band which never fails to raise morale and to attract the attention of the passive at London demonstrations. I tried to imagine their drums and pink feathers winding their way through Darjeeling. Perhaps the streets would be too narrow.

Now if anything I was curious rather than concerned. The area between Sikkim and Siliguri has officially been demanding separation from the state of Bengal since 1907. The demonstrations are being led by the Gorkha National Liberation Front (GNLF) who have set themselves the aim of achieving an independent state within India by 2010: “Gorkhaland for Gorkha’s.” Gorkhas are ethnic Nepalis who invaded what is now the Darjeeling district in 1780. Until then, the area had been ruled by the kings of Sikkim. After Indian independence, the Gorkhas remained under the rule of the West Bengal state and were left feeling severely under represented. Tension has continued to build and calls for a separate state of Gorkhaland increased. In 1988 their demands were briefly appeased by the formation of the Darjeeling Gorkha Hill Council, but still feeling neglected by both the national government and the West Bengal state (who still refuses to accept Nepali as one of the state's official languages) tension has continued to grow. The Darjeeling Gorkha Hill council argues that it has limited administrative and financial control. Their council members (some of whom we met during their revolving 24 hours hunger strike in Darjeeling) complain that they receive the same standard salary (2,500 rupees per month) although the district is much more expensive to live. Predictably, the Gorkha population feel inadequately represented.

On the streets this was vocalised by people with who argued that they work on the tea plantations which cover the hills and their hotels and restaurants feed and accommodate thousands of tourists per year but in return to the large revenue this provides to the ruling state they receive very little in way of infrastructure and basic services. Like the rest of West Bengal the 'Communist' government continues to marginalise state health care and education by diverting public funds into private alternatives. More specifically to Darjeeling, the area suffers from inadequate mountain roads and as the sign on my guest house door warned me – a water shortage. This is despite having one of the highest annual levels of rainfall in the country. The town's water system has not been renovated since the British era, despite having a massive increase in its population as well as seasonal surges of tourists bringing approximately 8000 each day. Unfortunately ethnic tensions are being manipulated as Bengali opposition groups (rumoured to be supported by the ruling CPI-M party) argue that the Gorkha's are trying to steal 'their' land and are actually not 'Indian' but 'foreigners' from Nepal.

Despite the absence of a samba beats the procession was still rhythmic, with speaker systems shouting out slogans and voices echoing them. Flags depicting the umbrellas of the Gorkha Hill Council walked by followed by the crossed Kurkuri's on the green flags of the GNLF. We waited for the slogans, flags and feet to march by and then searched for the only restaurant still selling food. We found it and immediately found ourselves being hurried through the door . We piled into a pile of rucksacks from yet more tourists still trying to make an 'escape'. Breakfast was available we were told, on the condition that we ordered pancakes. We ordered pancakes and I squeezed back out of the door and went in search of a newspaper. I found a small man, holding a wooden staff and loaded down with a stack of national and regional publications. He handed me copies of The Statesman and The Times of India. Darjeeling was on the front page of both, with one showing two wandering tourists looking extremely lost in the crowded bus depot we had arrived at only yesterday. I was disappointed that one of the tourists was not me. I made a mental note to look for random photographers during the day ahead. The front page also informed me that the bandh had now been announced as ‘indefinite.’

Personally, I was feeling pretty privileged to still be in Darjeeling and have the opportunity to see the town without tourists and to talk to people about the political situation. My luck was also about to increase as I randomly asked a passing jean wearing, trainer clad, clearly foreign foreigner if he was also leaving – his reply “I live here”. We returned to the now empty restaurant and ate jam pancakes.