Catch me in Kathmandu: My Excursion to Ladakh, India

The program I am participating in is fortunate enough that we go on both a major and minor excursion. For our major excursion we went to Ladakh, a part of the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir in northern India, which borders Chinese-occupied Tibet. We went to Ladakh because it is known for being as close culturally to Tibet as one can get without actually going to Tibet, and is also geographically is also very similar to Tibet, with its vast Himalayan landscape. Ladakh is situated in the Himalayas. The altitude of its capital city, Leh, is around 11,000 feet. There is a joke that it is one of the only places in the world where you can lay with half your body in the sun and the other half in the shade and get both a sunburn and hypothermia (though luckily this was not true). It took two days to adjust to both the high altitude and the dryness—it is like a high, cold, desert.

When the plane landed I immediately had goose bumps looking out the window and seeing that I was surrounded by the Himalayan mountains. My group went straight to SECMOL (Students Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh), which is an alternative school for Ladakhis who have failed high school—often because of difficulty with language, as the schooling is often in Urdu, the official language of the state, Hindi, or English, instead of their local language. At SECMOL the students participate in a foundation year, where they study and learn English. This is a very important skill to have in order to get a job in India. One of the main goals of the year is for the students to improve their confidence, and ultimately pass whatever exams they failed, so that they can move on to college. SECMOL is also a sustainable campus—something which is necessary because of the fragile environment of the Himalayas. This means that they get their energy from solar cells during the day and have Ladakhi compost toilets (i.e. a hole in the ground that leads to a chamber where all the future fertilizer is stored). They also get their irrigation and water from the little rain they get, and from the Indus River which flows only a couple hundred feet from their campus. One of the special features of Ladakh is that because it is so rural the night sky is simply unmatched—you can see all the stars that are usually hidden and even get a glimpse at the Milky Way. In addition, seeing the mighty Indus River (and stepping foot in it!) is an incredible sight, knowing how the river supports and has supported so many lives over time, which is evidenced by the fact that only green areas in sight are all within a hundred yards of the river.

While at SECMOL, we participated in daily life there as volunteer English conversation partners. Though we were the ones supposed to be helping the students, I felt as though they were teaching me so much—about their way of life, culture, and traditions. While we were at SECMOL we took a day trip to Alchi, an old town that boasts one of the oldest monasteries in the world, dating back to the 11^th century. The monasteries and the art within them are incredibly well preserved owing to the cold, dry climate of the area. The art there is also quite unique. It is a blend of the Kashmiri, Tibetan, and Central Asian styles, because all three cultures traded amongst each other within this area. On the way back we stopped to look at the Saspol caves. These are caves with beautiful monastic art, where people would go in the 16^th century to meditate. You have to climb and hike a decent way up to get to the actual caves. Once there, however the view of the Himalayas, Indus River, and small surrounding villages is simply breathtaking.

After staying at SECMOL for three days, we went to the capital of Ladakh, Leh, a small town that is the hub of tourism and commerce in the area. From Leh we took an excursion to Matho monastery. This is another old monastery that contains a treasure trove of ancient artifacts. We found out that there is a team there that is working to restore some of the old artifacts with the help of local artisans, and are even working on opening up a museum adjacent to the monastery to house its old artifacts. Like many of the places we visited, the monastery was on a hill, and so it had a stunning view of all the natural beauty surrounding it. While in Leh we took a tour of Old Town Leh, the oldest part of the city that is undergoing a battle for preservation—mainly by the Tibetan Heritage Foundation (there have been many attempts by the Indian government to bulldoze and rebuild with modern buildings). This part of the city is located on its main hill leading all the way up to the old Royal Palace, where the king of Ladakh traditionally lived. All along the hill there are many old Himalayan style houses, featuring large kitchens for warmth in the winter, and small windows to keep the house as warm as possible. Many people have since abandoned these houses and the government of India is trying to demolish and replace these buildings with more modern ones—even though the new modern houses won’t be as big, or suit the traditional lifestyle of the people. The Tibetan Heritage Foundation is collaboration with the community to try and bring back life to this part of town, seeing how they can make the buildings and houses useful again.

After three days in Leh, my program split our group in half and we went to two different villages, Sarchukul, and Maan. My group went to Maan, which is a small village of 156 people situated next the beautiful Pangong Lake. On our way to Maan we went through the third highest motorable pass, reaching over 17,000 feet in altitude. When we finally arrived at the village we were astounded by its natural beauty: on one side is the majestic Pangong Lake, with its famous nine shades of blue, and on the other side the mighty Himalayas. Most of our time in the village was spent doing field work. My project and field work revolved around how the village has been impacted by tourism. It was incredible to work with translators and hear from the people of this village (in a village of only 156 it’s easy to get a good sample size!) about how their lives have changed so quickly. Since the village is so close to a military area—China is right across the lake—tourism has only been permitted in the last five years. The changes to this rural village are dramatic. There are signs all over advertising guest houses and homestays. There is now a huge field of tent houses for rent to tourists and trekkers, complete with a new café where there had been only a field for crops. A few vehicles can now be seen in the village, something I was told was nonexistent only a few years prior. Moreover, there was a significant amount of construction going on, creating new buildings for guesthouses. These buildings were also being constructed with concrete instead of the traditional technique of using mud—which I can attest to is warmer at night than concrete. Though tourism has led to an influx of money in the village—which its people spend on religion (using it to go on pilgrimages) and education (sending away their children to pursue further studies—their school only goes to the equivalent of 5^th grade)—it has also caused many problems. For example, the tourist industry furthers economic inequality—those with bigger houses can rent out more rooms, making them richer. Furthermore, the large field of tent houses for tourists was owned by a wealthy man from Leh, who bought the land and now employs seasonal workers from other parts of India in his hospitality services.

The lifestyle and culture of the village has also changed immensely. Many of the older people told me about some of these changes. The village’s dependence on an agrarian lifestyle has changed to a dependence on tourism. The youth in the village no longer learn how to maintain crops and tend to animals (mainly yaks, sheep, and goats—we had the opportunity to milk some of the yaks) because they are too busy helping their family host tourists. There is simply no longer the time nor labor force to continue this traditional backbone of the Maan economy.

This influence of outsiders on a place where none had previously come has led to Maan’s younger generation developing a cultural style from these outsiders those who visit—that is if they even stay in the village. This can be seen in the way they dress—wearing hoodies and flat brim caps with designs, in contrast to their parents who wear knit sweaters and caps. I was told by many people that even the music they listen to is changing, from classic Ladakhi songs to more modern Hindi and English music. Much of the next generation is also leaving the village, whether it be for education, jobs, or the draw of urban life, escaping the traditional lifestyle of the village. Many villagers repeatedly told me how many of their children had left the village in search of some seemingly greater opportunity—though their family had lived there for generations. The teacher of the main primary school, who had been teaching there since 1987 told me that even the schooling the children undergo is changing. There is a greater focus on English so that the students can participate in the hospitality industry and less on learning the traditional skills needed in an agrarian lifestyle. This change in direction is part of a much larger trend toward globalization, and is also heavily influenced by government laws.

Sadly, the general culture of helping one another has changed as the economy has shifted. In their previous farming lifestyle, everyone was ready and willing to help each other— a community is simply needed to help maintain large farms, and so everyone helps out because they know they will also need the help. Now however, villagers have more money and so can afford to use a machine for threshing the field. It is very competitive to use the machine though, and everyone wants to use it first because they are worried it may break down. I was told that it got so fierce that they now use a lottery system to determine the order of use.

Yet another change that almost everyone I interviewed pointed out is that the first thing that changed was the “freshness,” “hygiene,” or “cleanliness” of the village. This has meant the construction of outhouses with Ladakhi compost toilets (read hole in the ground with a chamber to store the waste), and even advertisements for homestays with “flush toilets.” While this may seem like a good thing at first glance, it can have unintended consequences. Having flush toilets in a region where water is scarce is wasting precious resources in an area with a cold and dry climate. Due to the climate though, compost toilets are safe from the risk of spreading diseases.

With the tourists has come a greater connection with the outside world. For example, my homestay family had a television set (where I was somehow able to watch the first presidential debate). The sheer influx of people has created a greater awareness of the world outside the village, and a stronger connection to it. Although tourism is only one factor within the larger wave of globalization that is impacting the village, it nonetheless has had a significant impact.

The entire region around the Pangong Lake has been affected by the influx of tourists. Many people who live within a few miles of the lake have moved closer to the lake so that they can make money in the hospitality and trekking businesses. They have abandoned their tradition of animal rearing, and year after year more people are relocating. This includes many semi-nomadic peoples, who have previously played an integral role in maintaining the environment. Often times these people only work during the three to four-month tourist season—which is physically much easier. A common concern expressed by some villagers was that the hospitality business may become very competitive, with not enough jobs for everyone that now wants to work in the industry; since the younger generation is not trained to go back to the traditional lifestyle of their villages they would be out of luck—that is if they even wanted to move back to their villages. A further concern is that the tourism industry may be affected by factors beyond their control, such as any negative attention about the area, or any natural disasters that might scare tourists away. Now that so many villages around the lake are dependent on tourism for their economy, it could lead to devastating circumstance.

After three days in the villages we went back to SECMOL to present our findings. We all had a SECMOL student paired up with us to help us as translators, and for the students to do an oral history project and learn more about other areas of the region. From there we went back to Leh, where I had to do some investigative reporting on the Ladakh Buddhist Association (LBA). I found out that the Ladakh Buddhist Association is one of the most powerful groups in Ladakh. When first asking about them on the streets it is common to only get vague answers, with no clear history on the organization, only to be told they are very powerful group and to get more details you should go to them. When talking about the LBA, it is not unusual for people to speak in hushed tones, with constant glances over their shoulders. In order to get better information on the group I ventured to their headquarters in the Leh main Bazaar. I originally suspected they would be more than happy to give a couple of students (I went with another student who was also assigned to investigate the LBA) information on their history, however, our first two attempts were fruitless—no one was willing to tell us anything or share with us any literature or brochures. After speaking with a few more people on the street about the LBA, we heard words like “goons” and “mafia” to describe them, one shop keeper even compared them to the KKK. It was as if I was in Brooklyn, inquiring about the Gambino crime family!

My perception ultimately turned out to be wrong. The third time we went to their headquarters we were able to meet with and interview Sonam Norbu Shey, a program coordinator at the LBA. He was able to give us pamphlets about the organization and provide a context for their activities. According to their pamphlets, the LBA originally started in 1836 as an organization in the Kingdom of Jammu. Later, in 1934 they reformed as the Young Men’s Buddhist Association as an official association in British-ruled India. Mr. Shey informed us that the British encouraged them to form this association officially in order to give a voice and platform to the Buddhists in Ladakh—a small minority within the larger Jammu and Kashmir region, and an even smaller minority within colonial India. This was formative in their psyche and influenced the role they play today. Buddhists are still a minority in the J&K state and in India, and as Mr. Shey told us Ladakhi Buddhists see themselves as very different and apart from the rest of the governments that control them—they have a different culture, language, religion, dress, and even look physically different.

Add this information to the current geopolitical context in which they exist, and you can understand the fierce competition over political resources, a battle that they are determined to win. Mr. Shey explained that there is only one seat in the Indian parliament from Ladakh, so the LBA is determined to make sure a Buddhist holds that seat. Furthermore, they are governed by the J&K state based in Kashmir and Mr. Shey believes that the Muslims in that government are intent on suppressing them, and deny them adequate funding. This has led them to become a very important political group, unifying and empowering Buddhists, and making sure that they have a voice.

Unfortunately, this dynamic has resulted in a significant conflict with the Muslim community that also inhabits much of Ladakh. The major point of strife according to Mr. Shey was 1989. He told us that there was a small fight between a Muslim boy and a Buddhist boy which escalated into a much larger community dispute, eventually leading to the death of five Buddhists. In response, the LBA decided to enforce a social boycott on Muslims, which lasted from 1989-1993 before a deal with the government was reached creating the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Development Council. Mr. Shey informed us that though this boycott ended in 1993 the feelings of ill will from the 1990s still exist today, as many Buddhist still try and avoid Muslim shops and still harbor feelings of animosity. All of this has led to the current state of affairs in Ladakh, and resulted in the LBA becoming a powerful player in the Ladakh community.

I am now off to Dharamsalah, the headquarters of the Central Tibetan Administration (CTA, or the government in exile), home to significant numbers of the refugee community, and also the home to his holiness the Dalai Lama. We will be staying there for a week and a half with homestay families. I’m quite excited!