Most people don’t know this about me, but I graduated from high school in India. It’s true… I spent my senior year at a boarding school in northern India. Although some people have a hard time understanding how I could go somewhere else for the all-important “senior year”, I never had any regrets. It turned out to be one of the most amazing and wonderful years of my life.
California to India
Being a teenager in California in the 1960′s meant that the important things in my life were cars, girls, and surfing… although I could never figure out which mattered most. Fortunately, I was given occasional glimpses of a world beyond 426 hemi’s, short skirts, and that next big set of waves. At the rare family gathering where they were all together, my father, grandfather, and uncle would sit and tell stories about their life and times in India (see Mumbys in India). Although the stories were not easy to follow, they were recounted in a mixture of English and Urdu and interrupted by bouts of uncontrollable laughter, I began to suspect that India was a great and magical place.
Primed with this familial background, and (I guess) a somewhat adventuresome spirit, I broached the subject of tagging along on a trip my parents were taking to visit India and Pakistan in the summer of 1968. This discussion eventually evolved into a plan that had me attending Woodstock School (where my father had gone) for grade 12, with my Aunt and Uncle, who were living in Lahore, Pakistan, agreeing to serve as my surrogate family for the year. I loved this idea from the beginning. Not only was it a chance for freedom and new experience, but by the summer of ’68, India had taken on even greater coolness. The Beatles had gone to India!
The three-week trip to Asia (by ship) would have provided a lifetime of memories by itself. Vivid recollections include cruising shops (and an occasional bar) in Japan and Taiwan with the the first mate of the ship, acting as bodyguard for four 20-year old, single school teachers when they went clubbing, and falling for a gorgeous, long-haired girl on the boat… things move fast when you’re 16. After the boat, we traveled from Hong Kong to New Delhi (by plane) and then on to Woodstock, which involved an overnight train trip from Delhi to Dehra Dun (they still used steam locomotives in India then… picture 35 mph max speed), followed by 20+ miles of switch-backs in a taxi up the mountain to Mussoorie. Mom and Dad got me settled into the high school boys dorm, which was (and still is) called “the Hostel” in time for the start of the Fall term in June and continued on their trip.
Woodstock School
Woodstock School is on the outskirts of the town of Mussoorie, which sits at an altitude of 6,500 feet in the “foothills” of the southern edge of the Garhwal Range of the Himalayas. It is 180 miles north of New Delhi in the state of Uttarakhand (which was called Uttar Pradesh when I was there). The Garhwal Himalayas run from the Everest Range in Nepal in a northwesterly direction to the Kharakorum range in Pakistan and lie along the border between India and Tibet. The highest peak in the range is Nanda Devi (25,645 ft) which is 100 km, or so, east of Mussoorie. The highest peak you can see from the top of the hill behind Woodstock is Bandarpunch at 20,722 ft. On a clear day, Bandarpunch (Monkey’s Tail) sits in the middle of an incredible line of 18-20,000 ft peaks that runs as far as the eye can see. We called these the “Snows.” The Garwahls are the headwaters of two of India’s mightiest, and most holy, rivers; the Ganges (to the east of Mussoorie) and the Yamuna (to the west). More information on the Garhwal Himalayas.
The view north from the top of the hill above Woodstock
Woodstock School was founded in 1859, originally as a christian girls school that became an interdenominational, coeducational, and multinational boarding school in 1922 (more Woodstock history). Our graduating class (1969) was mostly American missionary kids, with a few Indians and Europeans. Here we are at graduation (I’m third from right in top row).
Woodstock School class of 1969 graduation ceremony
As you can imagine, I could fill up pages and pages recounting the friends, events, and adventures I had during that year. But that would put even me to sleep. What I will say is that my classmates were an amazingly tolerant and accepting group. I quickly made friendships, many of which still exist today. Because of my family history at Woodstock (at least half a dozen of my classmate’s parents were classmates of my father or uncle), the fact that Woodstock kids were used to people coming and going (furloughs, transfers, etc), and their general acceptance of new people and ideas, I slid rather easily into the world of Woodstock. Although some kids who were there transiently had a hard time at Woodstock, I was not one of them. I will always cherish my memories of that place and time.
This last summer I attended our class’ 40th reunion. I was struck by the way that reconnecting with old friends made me remember why I liked them in the first place. I guess people do sort of stay the same. The reunion was also a time of sharing and closeness that was unlike any I had experienced before. Many of these people attended Woodstock from kindergarten through 12th grade. They grew up together, away from their families for much of the year, and have a bond that runs deep. Here is a picture of us from the reunion. (This time I’m fourth from right in top row)
Woodstock Class of 1969 40th reunion - July 2009, Eugene, OR
