The Plan, Part 5: Not Part of the Plan

Even though it snowed, we made it out of Bodhkharboo safely.  The guarantee was that the weather would hold and we would make it back to Leh safely.  Sure enough, the guarantee was right, and we did.

When we got back to Leh, the final matches of the CEC Cup (CEC is Chief Executive Counselor, the head of a group of Counselors representing the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Council, a semi-independent government within the state of Jammu & Kashmir…there’s a CEC for Kargil District too), an adult tournament that closed out the hockey season in 2011, were underway.

Watching the matches, I couldn’t help but get frustrated at the way the game was going.  Players were slashing each other in the calf, tripping was going uncalled…the game was lawless.  The part that frustrated me most was that the referees were two of the players that trained on the Indian Ice Hockey Team I coached in Abu Dhabi in 2009, including the captain, who I view as extremely capable of leading hockey in Ladakh in a positive direction.

Throughout the game, I’d run down from the dais (that’s a tougher word to spell than I expected) and call the referee off the ice and find out why he didn’t call a blatant penalty.  I couldn’t help myself.  His response was “I forgot”.  Unacceptable.

I went over to the President & General Secretary of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club and informed them that the following day I will run a referee training clinic for a few hours to give anybody that will be officiating ice hockey in Ladakh a crash course on rules, penalties, demeanor, and how to drop a puck properly.  Within the period, they made an announcement on the loud-speaker that the clinic would be held the following day at 11am.  I am always glad to see when things move quickly in life, but when they move quickly in Ladakh (and India in general), I am particularly pleased.

The next morning, the referee clinic began with little fanfare (I don’t like fanfare, just saying).  Two dozen people or so showed up, including the aforementioned referee/captain, and we began by going over the big issues with Ladakhi ice hockey: face-offs.

As I’ve described before, the concept of face-offs is not exactly understood or practicised, so even though there is a puck drop, it frequently includes throwing (as opposed to dropping) the puck into a loosely defined face-off circle, if at all even on the same side of the ice, and usually only has 1 center at the face-off dot, if the dot is painted and being used, and there are usually players offsides.  So yeah, this needed some work.  In order to grasp the concept, they had to line up at every face-off circle and understand that the referee controls the game in this moment.  They didn’t know they could call a penalty on the face-off, so I had to reinforce the delay-of-game penalty, and recommend that there no longer be running time.

From there, we moved on to offsides and icing, which took about half the clinic to explain every scenario that is ok (like skating backwards into the zone with control of the puck while another player straddles the blue line with their skates) and not ok (like scoring from outside the zone while your teammate is in the zone).  Since icing isn’t being called, this was an area of focus where I urged that they make changes for next year, as well as with delay-of-game as a whole, since it’s common for players to take a slapshot to the side boards in their defensive zone because the boards are only 3 inches high.

Penalties came next.  With a language barrier, a different culture, and a style of hockey that has been played vastly different from the norm for quite some time, it took a lot of effort to reiterate the minutae of what contact qualifies as a penalty, and what is legal, but I think the point was made by the end.  The part that boggles & frustrates is that most players don’t play with full equipment, and yet intentional contact seems to happen more often than incidental contact.

There were a lot of questions on fighting.  As their comprehension of the game is still in development stages, it was important to reiterate that fighting is not a part of international hockey.  Even though I believe in the concept in North America, we have an understanding of how it fits into the game.  For Ladakh, it’s important for them to continue to improve their knowledge of the international version of the game, as opposed to allow fighting to happen.  As it is, they are more violent than aggressive, which is counter to the development of the game.  Bottom line for hockey in Ladakh: don’t fight.  There’s enough verbal fighting that exists in the region as it is, if they use the ice as a forum, it’ll get out of control.  Once they learn how to work together better in general, a primary goal of The Hockey Foundation.

I left Ladakh feeling satisfied that the referees will demand better control over the game and enforce the rules more accurately, but with the understanding that there’s a long way to go until it’s on par with the rest of the world.

The Plan, Part 4: Barely in Bodhkharboo

It only took five days longer than expected, due to snow storms, but eventually we made it to Bodhkharboo.  Only problem: more snow was forecasted throughout the region, from Kargil to Leh (Bodhkharboo is in between them), so the decision to stay was long and arduous, with multiple incarnations of stay and go proposed.

Ultimately, at the request of the General Secretary/President of the Kargil Ice and Snow Sports (KISS) I agreed to stay for two days, as he guaranteed that the weather would hold to get me back to Leh in time to continue my adventure.  He is a very determined man, so it doesn’t surprise me that he would promise something he can’t control. 

The next morning, the rest of my group agreed to stay as well, which included Paul and the two girls from mainland India that were also volunteers at SECMOL and had the fortunate/unfortunate (depending on point of view) opportunity to be my stand-in translators.  Alex had made it out of Drass just before the storm hit, so he could not join us in Bodhkharboo.  His support on the ice and behind the camera was invaluable.  I look forward to sharing more experiences like this with him in the future.

From the outset, there were supposed to be seven days in Bodhkharboo.  At the conclusion of that camp, I was debating heading to Dhomkhar, but scrapped that plan when it became apparent that 1) the “Under-16” players from Dhomkhar were not actually under 16 (it has since been learned that they are reasonably open about the fact that they cheated, although I’m not sure they consider what they did cheating), and 2) they won the Under-16 tournament in Leh.  My goal in Ladakh is to help the players that need it most, but also reward the players that show integrity in their actions.  Our tour around Ladakh was decently publicized in newspapers and radio around the region, so I hope the players in Dhomkhar are aware that they were purposefully ignored in our hockey clinics this winter.  When it gets announced next year that we are returning, I hope that they request our support so we can explain why we didn’t give it this winter.

After the scheduled hockey camp in Bodhkharboo, the region quickly warms up to the point where it’s nearly impossible to skate.  Bodhkharboo is close to Chiktan, where I participated in a tournament two years prior.  I loved the scenery and the people in this town, but the ice quality was terrible two years ago (it was like walking on broken glass in ice skates), and was even worse this winter.  As a result, the camp was hosted in a town that had never played ice hockey before.

Before our arrival in Bodhkharboo the Kargil Ice & Snow Sports Club hosted a learn to skate program that was run by Stanzin Dolkar, a Ladakhi woman that was featured in a documentary Thin Ice, that focused on a particular controversy surrounding women’s hockey in Ladakh, and the girls at SECMOL.  Having spent enough time around people involved in this controversy, I will spare you any more details and depositions and let you see the documentary on your own and go from there. 

Stanzin Dolkar has had a particularly unique life for a Ladakhi. She’s well-traveled, having gone to Sweden for the documentary, Finland for an IIHF training on behalf of India, and Malaysia to participate in hockey training on behalf of India as well.  She’s got a firey personality, is quick on the sarcasm, and has a big laugh that can make anybody with half a heart smile.  She’s got a toughness that many Ladakhis, let alone Ladakhi women, lack.  As a core ideal of The Hockey Foundation, toughness is a quality that’s important on the ice and in life, and to see someone like Stanzin Dolkar have that quality is refreshing and gives me hope that we can continue to make progress with the rest of Ladakh.  The goal isn’t to tell them how to live their lives, nor is it to change their culture.  On the contrary.  The goal is to help them strengthen their culture and quality of living, on their terms.  Ladakh was closed off from the world for most of their history, and the recent modernization has started to eat away at Ladakhi culture, not just Ladakhi tradition.  Local politicians have started saying the same thing, that Ladakh is losing its tradition on its own.  The foreigners that come to Ladakh come because it has a deep tradition that has remained consistent for centuries, if not 1000 years.  They don’t come to modernize Ladakh.  It’s the ruggedness and tradition that is appealing, and although Ladakh is moderning, it is far from modern.

Stanzin Dolkar hasn’t been involved in hockey in Leh as a result of the Thin Ice controversy.  The opportunities in hockey have been given to her by the Ice Hockey Association of India and the Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club.  It’s unfortunate.  She has so much to offer the hockey players around Leh.  Hopefully things can progress to a point where bygones are bygones and everybody can get back to focusing on the improvement of hockey and the betterment of the children.

Stanzin Dolkar - I refer to her by her full name because Ladakhis don’t always go by the first name, nor do they always go by the last name.  It seems to be a random application of the names, more so than in the West.  Since there are as many Dolkar Stanzins as there are Stanzin Dolkars, I prefer to follow the other form of the acronym: “KISS”, Keep it Simple Stupid - had to hold learn-to-skate lessons for extra days due to us being stranded in Drass.  When we arrived, the first thing we did was check out the ice rink that was claimed to be to international standards.  They were not (no surprise there).  The rink was a fraction of the size that was claimed by the head of KISS, there were no boards, the ice was beyond choppy, and oh yeah, there were no goals.  You know…minor details.

Another problem facing the players in Bodhkharboo: poor skates.  This has been a problem throughout Ladakh.  We thought it was bad in Drass.  It was much worse in Bodhkharboo.  Children were wearing enormous skates with dull edges on poor ice.  We weren’t able to coach more than 20-25 people at a time, and even though that’s ideal in North America, we can usually accommodate a few more in Asia.  Overnight they built some hockey goals for us to run a learn-to-play program, as intended.  Unfortunately, since nobody in Bodhkharboo had ice skated previously, this was just a continuation of the learn-to-skate program that Stanzin Dolkar ran before our arrival.

We did end up running some passing drills to at least make it appear that it was a hockey clinic, but these drills were performed with incredible difficulty in comprehension and execution.  The concept: pass to the player across from you, then skate to where they were standing.  They will do the same to the next person in line, and so on.  Got it?  We had to do this drill for two days, and it still wasn’t close to done well.  

Separate from the educational limits, there was only 1 player on the ice other than myself and Paul that had a hockey stick that would be considered adequate.  Some players had sticks that were 2 feet shorter than they were.  Other players had sticks that were heavily taped together to keep it in one piece.  Some players had hockey sticks constructed with local wood.  They were not tempered, so had lots of flex and minimal support, and the blade was rarely curved more than 1 cm, and to make matters worse, was a separate piece of wood that was usually nailed and wrapped with twine.  This is arguably the most important part of the whole stick, the base of the shaft near the heal of the blade, as most sticks break here due to the shock and vibration when passing and shooting (or slashing in some cases).  These days, wood sticks are usually fused together by blending with plastics and composite materials and are tempered to the point where it becomes one piece.  If the shaft and blade are in two pieces, all the vibration in the blade will stop at the nails and twine, limiting the stress the hockey stick can handle.  I tried to explain this to the guy making these sticks.  He responded with a blank stare.

The biggest problem during the passing & skating drill was that most of the passes were significantly off.  Usually the passes were 10 feet wide, which is where another player in line was standing.  I would not accept that their shotty sticks were the culprit, so I traded sticks with a player and showed them that even a local stick can give and receive accurately, and that their local sticks are sufficient to execute a drill properly.  They still couldn’t control their passing, so I gave each group an ultimatum: 3 large mistakes as a group and the next one goes.  Keep doing it right, keep practicing.  This was a pretty effective shift, instead of just letting each group go for a set time.  It motivated them to pay better attention, try harder and assist the players that were struggling.

Since our time was limited, I ran a classroom session after the 1st practice.  I spent an hour, translating through Stanzin Dolkar, explaining the rules, penalties and basic concepts of the game.  Some of the kids were great, asking detailed questions about scenarios, while others laughed and dozed off.  They got one warning, then they were kicked out.  30 minutes in, I gave them an opportunity to leave as a group, so the youngest took that opportunity, which is sad in one aspect, but considering it’s the older ones that will teach the younger ones, it’s fine by me.

Ultimately, it’s unfortunate that we weren’t able so spend more time in Bodhkharboo, but there’s also a frustration, considering we were promised a particular scenario about the condition of hockey in the area that was not true at all.  The clinic was not for beginners, it was for children that never set foot on the ice.  It’s the beginning of being beginners.  Hopefully though, this was enough for them to take notice and start playing every Winter.  Considering the fact that Bodhkharboo is pretty remote from the major cities of Ladakh (Leh is 5 hours, Kargil is 2), it’s definitely something for them to do in the harsh Ladakhi Winter.  This was also an incredibly beautiful area, with mountains practically on top of the rink, which was a 3 minute walk from some pretty steep cliffs.  It was also one of the last Buddhist towns heading towards Kargil, even though it’s in Kargil district, which is predominantly Muslim, which makes it quite unique for the region.  There’s a feeling of being at the crossroads of Ladakh.

I look forward to spending a proper amount of time there next Winter.

The Plan, Part 3: Stranded in Drass

If you read the post about Leh vs Kargil, you’d know that my plans for Drass were complicated.  It wasn’t until the day before departure that I knew my transportation situation, or so I thought.
NOTE: Have you detected a theme yet?  When I think I understand a situation in Ladakh/India, I am frequently wrong, and yet it all works out as I more or less intended.  That’s life here.  If you plan for nothing to go as planned, your plan will come true.  Think about life that way, it’s refreshing.

Drass is in Kargil district, as opposed to Leh district.  Leh is predominantly Buddhist, with a significant Muslim population.  Kargil is significantly Muslim, with Drass being 70% Shi’a and 30% Sunni.  In Ladakh, the Shi’a are less strict with their practice of Islam.  There are significant differences between the sects of Islam, but that’s not the issue here, outside of the demographics, so let’s move on.
Being on the border between India & Pakistan, Kargil district was the main theatre of the 1999 Kargil War (I bet you could’ve figured that out) between the two countries.   On our drive from Kargil town to Drass, the highway hugged the river that separated what used to be Pakistan, until a 1971 skirmish allowed India to take control of that area.  Towering over Drass town is Tiger Hill, a major campaign for the war, and which foreigners are almost exclusively restricted from (although I made enough verbal attempts to get permission from the military to go to Tiger Hill).

Our drive from Leh to Drass was long.  We departed around 10am, and didn’t arrive in Drass until around 8pm.  Instead of staying at the VIP Guest House (aka “Dag Banglow”), as Alex and I did in Leh, the group of us, now 5 strong (3 for hockey, 2 for something different than SECMOL) were put up with a host family, one of the organizers of hockey in Drass, coincidentally also the President of the Drass horse polo organization, as that’s the sport of choice in the area.

Two years ago, I participated in a hockey tournament in Chiktan, also in Kargil district, which included a team from Drass.  The head of the local ice hockey organization, including many of the players in the area, were among my competition in that tournament.  It was one of the most beautiful places I had seen in Ladakh, and an area I was looking forward to returning to.

Hockey coaching began in Drass the next morning. The rink in Drass is artificial, in the sense that it’s ice on top of cement.  It’s nowhere close to regulation ice, being closer to a sharp square shape than a rounded rectangle.  The rink is near a small cliff towards the river.  On the other side of the valley are not just snow-peaked, but snow-covered mountains.  The whole region is surrounded by mountains just like that.  It is truly a Winter Wonderland.  Set your cameras on panorama if you ever make it here.  
On day one, much of the ice was available, although with no ice resurfacers in J&K, there was significant snow buildup on half the rink, so we used the cleaner side.  Hockey in Drass is well behind the rest of the Ladakh.  When Drass reached out to the Ladakh Winter Sports Club for support, apparently they received some equipment from the organization.  I don’t know how much, how good, and if it cost anything, but players are still lacking equipment.  Sticks are skates are fewer are farther than in the rest of Ladakh, which means that bad just morphed into impossible.  They’ve also received little to no support from coaches.

Now that’s changing.  The Hockey Foundation is proud to provide one of the first, if not the very first international hockey coaches to this remote, yet important, town in Kargil, Ladakh.  Not only did we set aside 5 days to coach hockey in the area, but we were delighted to be able to donate nearly all of the equipment we brought to Ladakh to the local ice hockey organization for use by kids and adults in Drass.  It’s not a solution to the problem, but it’s a band-aid until we can help locals establish a more reasonable hockey pro-shop for themselves.  This is how we can help improve life in the community, as it will keep costs down and allow more people to afford adequate equipment.  They need to be accountable for their own business, but we can help them understand what is reasonable and what isn’t.

Locals love to tell you that “Drass is the second coldest place on Earth.”  In actuality, Drass once had a record low temperature that was considered the second coldest of any inhabited region on Earth at the time.  It wasn’t unreasonably cold when we arrived, and being at a lower altitude than Leh, it was easier to breathe.  Just like everything else, that was about to change.

On ice instruction in Drass, as mentioned, was well behind Leh.  Since most players didn’t have sticks, all of our sticks were provided to the advanced players so that they had something to represent a balance more realistic for hockey.  We barely did any drills with the sticks.  A few times we squeezed in some passing drills and once we did a couple of shooting drills.  Most of the time, all we did was go over basic hockey skating fundamentals: forward, backwards, cross-overs, etc.  That’s how far behind they are.
Due to the lack of skates, what was originally planned as two 1-hour sessions turned into three sessions of uneven time.  At the end of each session, players would hand their skates over to someone else, even though they frequently wore different size skates.  As in Leh, when players wear skates that are way too big, improperly sharpened, and dulled down to the point that there’s barely steel left, it’s almost impossible to skate at a basic level.  This is something we hope to resolve in the coming years, but it will take a lot of time, money, effort and support.  That’s a challenge we accept.

There’s not much to say about the hockey that hasn’t been said.  Drass is sorely lacking equipment and instruction.  Our camp was solely dedicated to improving the skating level, with very little more.  All we could do was go with it and make the most of the situation.  That philosophy would become important in only a couple of days.

Snow started by day two.  They were hesitant to hold the hockey camp, but my argument was that it’s just snow.  It’s a natural component of hockey outside.  So they got to work shoveling with small blade shovels and an ingenious two-person manual plow, made of a plank propelled by two big handles.  An hour later, we had a small sheet of ice to work with.

This pattern continued every day.  The day before our last, Alex and the two Indian ladies joining us planned to return back to Leh so that Alex and one of them could catch their flights back to Delhi.  Their morning departure was a failure, and they turned back.  A few hours later, Alex left, with the ladies staying with myself and Paul, who was helping me with coaching for the final portion of the itinerary.
On the final day we planned to hold a classroom session & give out participation certificates.  So much snow fell the evening before that even finding a place for locals to gather was impossible.  There were multiple feet of snow on the ground, with more on the horizon.

I love snow.  I become a child in snow.  We built a snowman at the ice rink and put an Indian ice hockey jersey on it and fired shots at it because I wanted to play in the snow.  The problem with snow in remote parts of the world is the removal.  The plan after the final day in Drass was to head immediately out to Kargil to continue coaching in Budhkharboo for the Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club.  This was to be my 7-day camp to help ease the tension in the region, as there’s a significant amount of conflict between this club, Drass, and the Ladakh Winter Sports Club.

Unfortunately, the snow blocked off the highway, and after multiple avalanche deaths in the region, the state government ordered no movement until roads were completely cleared and deemed safe.  As I write this post, I should be in my third day of coaching in Budhkharboo.  We’re still not sure when we’re moving, although it may be by tomorrow, the day this gets posted.  

Our hosts have been wonderful, allowing us to cook for ourselves a few times.  We’ve now successfully made homemade potato chips twice; the second attempt being far more delicious and bountiful than the first.  Most recently, I attempted French toast with some local bread that flaked apart easily.  It required grinding cinnamon bark manually with a makeshift pestle, and cooking it on a cast iron frying pan that made it quite difficult to flip the bread.  That being said, the French toast was a comforting reminder of home, and the caramel sauce we miraculously pulled off after a first attempt tragedy was a pleasant distraction from the fact that my itinerary is severely compromised.

In regards to Budhkharboo, a lot depends on my pending flight out of Ladakh.  The intent after Budhkharboo was to scrap the camp in Dhomkhar based on the grounds that 1) they’ve received a lot of support in the past, 2) they won Ladakh under-16 tournament, 3) they may have faked the age of players to appear under 16.  After returning to Leh, my intent is to spend a couple of days in Delhi before heading to Dehra Dun to hold a hockey camp for players in the states surrounding India’s only indoor ice arena, including from Shimla, the first town in India to play ice hockey.

If that plan is still underway, my days in Budhkharboo are limited.  At the same time, I promised 7 days of hockey instruction to the players in this area, and if possible, I will hold two sessions of two hours each for the days available, to try to provide as much instruction as possible in the time available.  My body usually doesn’t love me for that, or rather my feet don’t, and it’s not my fault the weather prevented our departure, but I’m here to help and uphold the promises made, and I will do everything in my power to make that a reality.  Until then, I’ll just sit and wait, listening to The Beatles, Jukebox the Ghost (check them out!) and Sara Bareilles on my iPod (as well as countless comedy podcasts),  watching the TV shows & movies I brought with me for moments just like this (legally, of course!), and reading books that were intended for the vacation portion of my time in India, which seems to be less and less.

Leh vs. Kargil

Ladakh is not one homogenous region.  Leh, being the capital, gets most of the attention, and therefore what happens in Leh is considered what’s happening in Ladakh.  The problem is that there are other regions, such as Zanskar and Kargil that are quite unique from Leh district.  This difference was heightened in a debate over ice hockey that unfortunately included me being in the middle.

Before I returned to Ladakh, I set an itinerary.  That being said, nothing in India goes as planned, so I always keep my options open.  Once I determined the state of hockey in Leh and in Changtang region (Tangste), and how it has grown, I started to make the itinerary permanent.  I looked towards the Ladakh Winter Sports Club for support, as they have been supportive through all of my endeavors to help improve hockey in Leh, and by extension, Ladakh.  

My plan from the beginning, was to go to Drass, a fairly remote town in Kargil district.  After that, I set out to return to Chiktan, where I had participated in a tournament two years ago, and then possibly go to Dhomkhar, where Health Inc, a non-profit run by a Canadian woman Cynthia, operates.  Part of her program includes providing hockey resources to some of the locals, so this was something that piqued my interest.  

A few days before departing for Drass, the head of the Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club (KISS) got a hold of me so that we could discuss the plan for teaching hockey in his region.  To give some background info, that day was long and tiring.  We played two games with the Canadians, then went to another rink to film some scenes for an upcoming Bollywood (not in the traditional sense) movie about hockey in Ladakh (pretty cool, eh?!), and then went for a tour of a palace and monastery an hour outside of Leh.  By the time we returned to the hotel with the Canadians, I was exhausted and desperately wanting of a shower, as we had a banquet to attend that evening hosted by the local government.  At the same time, I wanted to meet with this gentleman, whom I had met years earlier, and whom I’ve got a fair amount of opinions regarding.

Our discussion was cordial, albeit difficult, as his English is substandard for the region.  I mentioned how I was planning to go to Drass for 5 days, and then could come to Chiktan to do 5 days, before heading to Dhomkhar.  He responded by saying he is responsible for Drass, and that the Ladakh Winter Sports Club (LWSC) should not be interfering in his territory.  His point is valid in that Drass is within Kargil district, and the Ice Hockey Association of India (IHAI) recognizes that fact, but life is full of gray areas, and this is one of them.  

The conversation continued that I shouldn’t spend so many days in Drass, as I won’t get many players, so maybe I can spend some time in Kargil and in Budhkharboo, a town about 25km (15 miles) from Chiktan, as their rink is not in good conditions.  I had already said I wanted to go to Drass, so I offered a compromise: 2 days in Drass with extended hours, 6 days in Kargil, open to both sides, as it’s in between , and then 2 days in Chiktan/Budhkharboo with extended hours.  In total, I would spend 10 days in Kargil district, and provide each organization with 8 days.  Win-win, right?

Not so fast.

At the banquet that evening, I noticed some glares from members of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club.  It didn’t register at first, but it was due to the fact that some of them saw me meet with the Kargil rep, and felt I was having a meeting behind their back.  I wasn’t.  Kargil is none of their concern.  What is their concern is Drass.

First I told the President of the LWSC of my meeting, and told him my plan to divide my time.  He didn’t have an issue, but he’s also been less involved in the work I’ve been doing in Ladakh, so I proceeded to tell the General Secretary, who’s been incredibly helpful and supportive.  He made the situation very clear by reminding me that I had already promised Drass 5 days at the outset, and that it’s been communicated to their organization, that’s in turn announced the program on the radio.  He also communicated that Drass is affiliated with the LWSC due to lack of support from Kargil and a request for support from LWSC, of which the members were happy to say yes and help.

I can attest to the fact that prior to all of this, there’s been tension between the organizations, and complaints have been filed at multiple levels.  Accusations have been common between the groups, with some points being fair, and others not so much.

There was only one thing I could do though: call a meeting of both sides and clear the confusion I created, as I had promised 5 days in Drass, but had then told the head of Kargil I’d do 2 days in Drass.  This was my mistake, and everybody needed to be present so that there was no confusion on what the plan was (sticking with original plan), why it would be that way (because I made a commitment), and who is responsible for this (me, as it is my plan).

The meeting started late.  Prior to the arrival of the Kargil rep, there was a bit of a shouting match between a LWSC member and gentleman that used to be a coach of hockey in Ladakh, but now is a bit less involved directly (maybe I’ll explain this at a later date…but I want to protect the identities of people where I can), which was uncomfortable but a long time coming.  

Once he arrived, the meeting started fairly well, in my humble opinion.  I explained that I made a mistake, and was going to keep my original promise.  As retribution for my mistake, I offered to teach hockey in Chiktan/Budhkharboo for 7 days instead of the original 5.  His response was that Drass is in Kargil district and that LWSC should not be interfering.  I don’t particularly care who is responsible for supporting Drass, as my only goal is to help teach hockey in the region.  He continued to complain that LWSC should not have organized my trip, and that they have influenced my decision making process.  They didn’t.  All I could do was reiterate that point.  From day 1, the Ice Hockey Association of India and the Ladakh Winter Sports Club have understood that all programming I run in India is specifically because I have either planned it, or agreed to it.  I have never been forced or coerced into any situation, and that includes correcting the Drass misunderstanding.  Since The Hockey Foundation promotes honesty and accountability, the only thing to do was set the example and be accountable for my words and actions.  I made a promise, then I made a mistake, and I planned to uphold my original promise for the betterment of the game and the quality of life in the community.

The argument continued in Ladakhi (I think) and touched on the fact that Kargil is always complaining to high ranking authorities and creating problems for LWSC and hockey in Ladakh, and that Drass never received support from KISS and that they were only helping an organization in need for the betterment of the game.  From there, it took a lot of begging on my part to get the KISS rep to sit down and remain in the room, and I tried to make it clear that both organizations had valid points, and that ultimately Drass would have to be officially ruled upon by the IHAI and/or Winter Games Federation of India.  I tried to make it clear that there are many levels of jurisdiction in organizations like USA Hockey and Hockey Canada, but the situation quickly got out of control again when a member of the LWSC threatened the KISS rep.  

The meeting went exactly as I expected and dreaded.  It seemed like everything was doomed in Kargil.
Immediately I got on the phone with Akshay Kumar, General Secretary of the IHAI, and informed him about the conflict.  I asked him to contact the KISS rep and let him know that I am still committed to teaching hockey in his area.  I made that clear by email as well.  He had already sent an email out regarding the difference between Leh and Kargil districts, and that we planned on hockey in his area at a day/time different than agreed upon.  Within two days, the plan he and I agreed upon, that he wrote down, and that I had to cancel, was already different than discussed.  I clarified the dates in the email, and made it clear the only goal is to support hockey in Ladakh & Kargil, with the IHAI.  That evening, I received a phone call from the Kargil rep, apologizing to me.  It sounded like we were back in business, but having a tough time understanding him, I wasn’t entirely sure.

The next day, we met up and confirmed that the plan was underway as originally intended, with 7 days in Budhkharboo.

Both sides made some convincing points in their arguments (assuming all opinions are true):

Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club:

• Drass is in Kargil district
• Ice Hockey Association of India recognizes Drass as a part of Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club

Ladakh Winter Sports Club:

• Kargil hasn’t supported Drass; Drass doesn’t want their support
• LWSC only agreed to support when a request came to them in response to lack of support
• Their goal is to help improve the quality of the game in Ladakh, whether it be Leh or Kargil

Ultimately, there will need to be mediation on this conflict, in my opinion.  I appreciate the desire to help grow the game wherever the game needs help, but interfering in other regions can create tension.  That being said, organizations like USA Hockey and Hockey Canada have helped other nations with their hockey development.  Is that interference?

The problem with gray areas is that there truly is no right or wrong, just opinions and decisions that a large number of people will have a problem with.  I only see this as a headache for IHAI, and wish it can resolve amicably.  Where I can help, I will, offering the knowledge of international ice hockey organizations where I can, but this is India after all.  Politicking is the norm.

Ladakh Winter Tourism Cup

aka “The Canadians (and two Americans) take on the best of Ladakh”

About a month before coming to Ladakh, I got a message from Tony Kretschmar, the organizer of the hockey team (mostly) from the Canadian High Commission (Embassy) in New Delhi, called the New Delhi Sacred Bulls (cows are sacred in India… get it?).  He wanted to know whether I’d be returning to Ladakh for hockey, as we had met the previous time I was in town.  A couple of weeks later, I gave Tony a definitive “yes”.

The Canadian High Commission has been participating in the Ladakh Winter Tourism Cup (formerly known as the Indo-Canadian Friendship Cup) for 11 years.  Tony has been on the team for 10, when he got a job working for an engineering firm in New Delhi.  These days he’s working for the same firm in Shanghai, close enough to still participate in the tournament every year.

The team was smaller this year, arriving with only 7 players and no goalie.  Alex and I joined the team as well, as did Paul, the aforementioned Canadian doing a world-tour, bringing the total to 10, plus a goalie borrowed from local teams.  The three of us, having been in the region longer and been on the ice more, were in better general shape for the tournament, between acclimation and practice, but that didn’t make the experience any better.

Once you get over the symptoms of altitude sickness it doesn’t mean you are back to normal.  Oxygen is still at minimal levels.  At an average pace, your body just gets by, but your heart is working harder to keep you at status quo.  Just a small exertion is difficult on the body, forcing the heart and lungs to work harder than they are accustomed to.  Our team had just enough players to allow us all to skate hard during our shifts.  Typically, if you have 10 players, you have two full lines that rotate back and forth at a consistent tempo.  This allows both lines to skate hard and rest up at adequate intervals.  Any less, and players are forced to take uneven shifts, which usually results in less rest and/or shifts on the ice of half speed.  That’s at normal altitude.

At high altitude, each shift is more difficult.  Going 100% is now a venture that results in less time, more exertion, and a longer recovery.  Even having acclimated and skated nearly every day after my altitude sickness, these shifts were difficult.

On a 1-on-1 level, most of our team was better than our competition in an understanding of hockey and an ability to follow through on that understanding.  That’s not the issue.  Hockey is a team game, and Ladakh hockey has yet to develop the team game.  Players don’t know positioning when they don’t have the puck, which is far more important than where you go with the puck.  Our goal was to make sure we stay in our positions and pass the puck to the open player.  I made it clear I’d rush the puck a few times when the motivation struck (I volunteered to play defense  - aka defence for the Canadian readers), but other than that, I’d just stay in my position and play the part (stop the offense, pass to my teammates, get the puck on net when I had it at the point).

Every game, while difficult, was still easy.  When you play hockey the right way, it’s easy to win.  It doesn’t matter what level you play at, assuming general parity, if you play against a team that doesn’t play together, you will win.  It’s the whole reason why I argue that hockey is the best game to communicate ideals that improve the community.

The best players in NHL history and present could never be successful, in personal and team accomplishments, if they didn’t work together with their teammates, and vice versa.  Wayne Gretzky has scored more goals than any player in NHL history.  He has double the assists.  His Stanley Cups with the Edmonton Oilers would never have been possible if he didn’t have teammates like Mark Messier and Kevin Lowe (among many others), that could score off of his passes and stick up for him physically on the ice, as he is an obvious target as the best player on the ice.  If players went after Gretzky, they’d be dealt with swiftly.  The Islanders dynasty before them operated in the same way.  Mario Lemieux and Sidney Crosby won Stanley Cups with the Penguins because they had teammates that could score goals as much as their captains could (Jagr & Malkin, respectively), and had role players that played tough defense, got into the scraps necessary, and dished the puck to the stars or scored the goals when the stars were being covered.  If it was just a team of fighters, passers, or goal-scorers, the concept of a team game is gone, and the success of that team is greatly hindered.

Now, we’re not NHL-ers, contrary to what the Hindustan Times said of me two years ago (twice!), but we do understand that we’ll win if we work together.  That’s all we did.  It was rare that the opposing team even made it into our defensive zone, and when they did, we shut them down quickly.  Every game was a victory.  In total, our local goalies only let in a handful of goals.

We played against many players I trained on the Indian National Team, between one team that included the captain from the national team, and ITBP, which had about half the team.  ITBP was by far our toughest competition.  They skated harder than we did, were in far better shape (being a “police force”), and has the highest concentration of good players in Ladakh.  What they didn’t have was a concept of where to be on the ice when they controlled the puck and where to be on the ice when we controlled the puck in their zone.  They had the one of the best goalies, but once we realized we had to play harder, we relentlessly peppered him with shots.  There was no way he would be able to stay on top of them all.

Overall, the tournament was a ton of fun.  I was overall pleased with my play, when I could focus on anything other than breathing.  I scored when I needed/wanted to, for the most part, although I nearly took out Bashir’s son on a shot I missed, and got physical in the ITBP to send a message to the players that they need to toughen up.  The team played well together and got along very well off the ice.

The tournament itself was organized a bit strangely, as the team only participated in the exhibition round.  The tournament continued through to a playoff round and finals, without the winning-est team making it trough.  Granted, other than Tony and his son, nobody from the team remained in Ladakh for the rest of the matches, as they were only in town for a few days.  Next year, the intent is for the tournament to be better organized around the team’s duration of stay.  At the same time, it will even more so be a Winter Tourism Cup.

I want to use this moment to let you know there are tentative plans for more teams to participate in the Winter Tourism Cup next year, which will most likely take place in both Leh, Ladakh and in Dehra Dun, 5 hours outside of Delhi, where India’s only indoor ice arena is located.  This trip would be about two weeks, and are open to select people.

If you are interested in coming to Ladakh/India (as stated previously, they are different in so many way) for two weeks to experience ice hockey and the culture of Ladakh & mainland India, please fill out the contact form and select the “Hockey Exchange Excursions” from the drop-down menu.  I’ll provide more information as it becomes available.

Applications will be accepted through August 31, 2011.  Costs have yet to be finalized.  Stay tuned for more details.

Lastly, it’s important to understand the impact that the Canadian High Commission team has had on hockey in Ladakh.  While the team only comes once a year for rarely more than a week, their participation in an annual tournament at the highest altitude ice rink in the world garnered the attention of documentarists (spell-check is not allowing that word.  I’m sticking with it.), newspapers, and ultimately one of the coaches from the LA Kings.  That support led to a Ladakhi hockey contingent going to the USA & Finland for training, of which some drama in the region still exists (maybe those are details I will share again one day, as I am still trying to understand all sides of the story).  Their continued support has greatly helped improve the quality of the game in the sense that it has shown the locals that even older, out of shape, oxygen-starved hockey players that play together are still better at the game when they play together than locals that play every day the wrong way.
 
The Hockey Foundation is creating a more consistent training program for Ladakh so that they can share their unique culture with the rest of the world in international friendship tournaments like the one they’ve been hosting for over a decade.  Until then, you’ll have to come to Ladakh to see and feel the magic yourself!