O Phaltoo! |
Posted By Phaltoo,
September-08-08
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"O Phaltoo!" You could hear the memsahib’s cry echoing through monsoon mist, like a barking deer with a sore throat. Soon enough there came a response from somewhere down the hill. "Phaltoo!" One of the men who carried loads and messages up and down the trails signaled that he was free. Within a few minutes the courier arrived at the memsahib’s door, ready to bear a note or "chitti" from one house to another. This was before telephones, SMS, email, or even blogs but residents of Landour stayed in touch through an efficient messenger service. "Phaltoo" doesn’t translate very well into English – free, available, unemployed – none of these words offer the right connotations. The only other expression that matches it is "loafer," but that’s another story altogether… Most of us from Woodstock, at least from the eighties backwards, like to think of ourselves as phaltoos – hanging out on the Eyebrow path or at Sister’s Bazaar, maybe smoking a beedi. Even today, if we heard that cry we’d probably answer it. But after all these years, what messages would we carry? O Phaltoo!
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More memories from 1969 graduate |
Posted By Kathryn S. Lindquist (Getter),
August-18-08
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OK, I need help to remember which "boy" in our class of 1969 swallowed a LIVE skink for one lousey Rs??? Forget the mildew in the closets -- my shoes left overnite never ceased to amaze me -- they filled with mold the next AM! As fog rushed up from the valley there was the frizzy hair that refused to be tamed...sandfly bites that oozed and itched for days...stepping on toads in the dark with only a rubber chappel to absorb the squish -- gives me shivers to this day! There was the running (AKA slipping/sliding) down (or stumbing UP) the shortcut from Bothwell bank in a rushing torent of water, again in rubber chappels...I loved the Stag/Rhino/Swear/Bamboo betels (sp?) that crashed into our Oaklands windows and were given temporary residence in the screened in window of my bedroom. They seemedcontent to feed on bananas and mango skins until freed again...ah, me...yes, and who could forget trying to start a wet wood fire while hiking in such a season??? Those were the days, my friend, I'd thought they'ed never end....
Awaiting memories from the rest of you, Kathy Getter Lindquist 1969 aka "Papa raaaaaat" ;o)
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Monsoon Musings |
Posted By Alumni Coordinator,
August-08-08
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For many Woodstock alumni, the monsoon brings back nostalgic memories of rain drumming on a dormitory roof, a verdant fringe of ferns draped along an oak branch, or beetle hunting in the twilit mist. Of course, what often gets forgotten is mildew in a cupboard, soggy biscuits at tea time, or the presence of various venomous and blood-sucking creatures that we encounter in Mussoorie. Only a few weeks ago, a Woodstock staff member discovered that a scorpion had climbed from her umbrella onto her hand. Fortunately, a quick flick of the wrist shook it off. How many of us still have nightmares about giant spiders on bathroom walls or the leeches that gave us love-bites on our ankles? (Most of us recoiled in horror but others – usually Ridgewood boys – collected these bugs and delighted in displaying them during “show and tell.’’) Whether we are arachnaphobes or arachnaphiles, most of us carry with us stories of monsoon wildlife. This week, why not share an anecdote about scorpions, spiders, leeches or something else that makes your skin crawl?
Tags:
blood-sucking
Monsoon
skin crawling and horror.....
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