Word: himalayan
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...anything British--schools, courts, goods, even the English language. He believed mass noncooperation would achieve independence within a year. Instead, it degenerated into bloody rioting, and British soldiers turned their guns on a crowd in Amritsar, massacring 400. Gandhi called his underestimating of the violence inside Indian society his "Himalayan blunder." Still, villagers mobbed him wherever he went, calling him Mahatma. By 1922, 30,000 followers had been jailed, and Gandhi ordered civil disobedience. The British slowed the momentum by jailing him for 22 months...
...sound of a Turkish flute filled the dark lecture hall in Maxwell Dworkin, and images of the jagged Himalayan Mountains flashed onto the screen in front...
Ecotourism does not always produce such benign results. In Ladakh, a remote Himalayan region in northern India, rural communities are overrun each summer by trekkers and their hungry ponies, which are destroying the limited vegetation. In Kenya's famed Masai Mara Reserve, overcrowding has become "a nightmare," says Simeon Kanani of Nairobi's Technical and Study Tours. In the mid-1990s the local county council earned $1 million a month for schools and hospitals from gate receipts, but at a price. "If you have 20 to 30 four-wheel drives in the park, is that ecotourism?" asks Kanani...
...Hillary was tall, lanky, big-boned and long-faced, and he moved with an incongruous grace, rather like a giraffe. He habitually wore on his head a homemade cap with a cotton flap behind, as seen in old movies of the French Foreign Legion. Tenzing was by comparison a Himalayan fashion model: small, neat, rather delicate, brown as a berry, with the confident movements of a cat. Hillary grinned; Tenzing smiled. Hillary guffawed; Tenzing chuckled. Neither of them seemed particularly perturbed by anything; on the other hand, neither went in for unnecessary bravado...
Emerging into the neon lights and raucous zinging of a pint-sized "Himalayan" roller coaster, I suddenly regretted wearing my pea-coat and wool slacks, an appropriate ensemble for my earlier Lit and Arts section, but out of place among the Harley Davidson insignia. My ears absorbed a multitude of noises and frequencies as I scanned the warehouse-sized Emporium: the smack of a baseball in the adjacent batting cage, electronic screams from a blood-and-guts video game, and the monotonous voice of a televised sports commentator. The hubub was mesmerizing and dizzying...