Ladakhi Life

When I go to type an entry for this blog I usually end up erasing it because of the difficulty I have conveying how different it is here. Being here has enabled me to see my society through a completely different lens. Each day I’m realizing that Ladakh is an unmined gem, one that is coming closer to the surface every day with each new television, car and passing tourist. I feel so distant from the rest of the world. It’s like a hidden place tucked safely away from the world, concealed by walls of snow capped mountains. A place so rich with history and religion. A place where time stands still. I think what sets Ladakh apart from the rest of the world in terms of being exploited by tourism is that the country is apart of Jammu and Kashmir, a region that has been undergoing extremely high political instability for years which has scared many tourists from visiting the region. I think most tourists that come to Ladakh are the kind that respect the culture, land and the temples and aren’t the kind of tourists to passively have their camera become their face. I’m lying in my bed with frozen fingers waiting to teach the English conversational class. Every day at 6pm I facilitate the conversation course for the Ladakhis and VISpas. This week I decided it would be best to have a music theme so the VISpas could learn the Ladakhi song that is sang during dinner and for the Ladakhis to learn something besides the Beatles. So I have decided that Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry” would be best. The VISpas will teach the Ladakhis the meanings of the words and analyze the meaning of the song with them. No one I’ve met so far in Ladakh has heard of Bob Marley! Tonight’s dinner is going to be absolutely amazing. There has been a camp of 40 Ladakhi students from all over Ladakh staying at SECMOL for the past two weeks and tonight is their last night. A huge feast of delicious paneer (cheese), thin crispy chick pea flour wraps and warm sweet porridge is being prepared in the kitchen. The food here has been pretty bland so far. I’ve never eaten so many carbs in my entire life. Every meal either some form of bread and some form of rice or noodles is served. For breakfast we usually eat Dal (lentils) and steamed buns. It’s been getting a little hard for me so I’ve been compensating meals with Cadburys chocolate I buy in Leh during our day off on Sundays.

This past weekend the SECMOL students, campers and VISpas went to Buddhist festival at a monastery in Likir. The two hour drive was filled with remarkable views of mud houses built onto the sides of cliffs. I sat with a camper who helped me begin knitting socks. All of the girls wear vivid colorful socks they knit. When we arrived at the monastery perched upon a cliff we could see a giant Buddha that rose above the building of the monastery. Dolma, the girl who sat next to me, and three other Ladakhi girls held my hands and brought me along to explore the monastery. I’ve found that many people will share the same names in Ladakh such as Dolma, Tsetan, Stanzin, Dorjey, Tashi. The people are identified by the name of their house which is chosen when they are brought as babies to the Rinpoche of their village. A Rinpoche is considered the highest lama and is the reincarnation of a previous Rinpoche. All names have some sort of meaning that connects with Buddhism. For example Tsering Kunzes (my closest Ladakhi friend here) means long life for everyone. And Dolma is named after some deity. Upon entering the square of the monastery we all walked around a colorful prayer wheel, spinning it as we walked. People come from all over Ladakh to see these masked people dancing. They believe it purifies the bad deeds they have committed during heir lifetime. The only two other westerners I saw at the festival was the Swedish couple I met in Leh two weeks ago who are here for photography.


It’s so interesting seeing the difference in clothing between the older and younger generations. The younger generations wear jeans and knock off North Face jackets. The older generation dress in long homespun robes, turquoise and coral jewelry, a woolen hat with two long braids that are tied together at their ends. And the older generation always is holding prayer beads or spinning a prayer wheel in their hands. They believe this act brings them and their families good karma. Women’s hair here is usually long thick and of a beautiful shiny black color. For the older woman who can’t grow their hair as long younger women, they tie yak hair into their braids. Little children chased each other while their families chatted with each other listening to the heavy sound of the ceremonial drums and horns.

The girls laughed and giggled every time I took a photograph of them. They showed me the different rooms you could worship in. In each was a young boy monk there to watch over the offerings that were given by the people to the deities and to burn incense. Everything is done in a clockwise manner in the monastery. Stupas are to be walked around in a clockwise circle and I noticed that as we moved around the monastery we did so in a clockwise way. Even when we visited the Buddha statue, after we kneeled down three times and bowed towards this magnificent statue, we could not exit in the manner we entered-we HAD to walk to the left of the Buddha. It was freezing and I asked Tsetan if there was anywhere we could go to warm up. It so happened that Dolma’s uncle lived directly next to the monastery so she led us to his home. There was a huge black dzo standing next to the door with horns like you see on a bull. A dzo is a hybrid between a yak and a cow whose strength is used for ploughing the fields and heavy labor. Her uncle’s home had a gorgeous view overlooking the Buddha and monastery, set just beyond their field.

Spending time in Dolma’s uncle’s home I saw something about the way people live. Everyone sits on the floor surrounding the stove where a plate of biscuits were being warmed up along with cups of tea. As I spoke to her Uncle, Dolma translated for me. I learned that landholdings like his are kept intact regardless of what happens in their children’s marriage. Dolma’s house in her village holds 18 members because she has three older brothers. Although land is formally given to the eldest son, many Ladakhis will live in big families building additions to their homes. Homes and land are never divided When a man and woman marry, the woman gives up her family and moves into her husband’s home. I asked her uncle what would happen to this beautiful piece of land since he only has three daughters and he said one of them would inherit it. He smiled and passed around more tea and more biscuits. I had to take off my shoes because I could no longer feel my toes! As we sat in a circle and warmed ourselves by the fire I looked outside in utter amazement at the yak staring in through the window. It was almost 1pm and lunch was being eaten down by the bus. The girls ran in front of me and I was able to capture beautiful photograph of the view of the monastery from the house. The SECMOL students made paranthas (flat bread) and apricot jam for us to make sweet tasting sandwiches. After we were finished we headed back to SECMOL and on our way stopped to visit the Maitraya temple which from distance blends into the cliffs. As we walked towards this temple, it’s features became more apparent. Before walking around I read the sign nailed to a rock. It’s considered one of the top 100 world’s most endangered heritage sites. The temple was considered one of the most prominent sites in Ladakh in 1445. It was originally built in the shape of a mosque to worship Islam but later the King embraced Buddhism and it was then converted into a temple. I was very surprised at how we could just walk around wherever we pleased. There was no one watching over the site. And with each step I imagined the damage we must be doing. It was built out of some kind of mud material and is literally on the verge of collapsing from the amount of corrosion. There was one point where you could overlook an entire mini village where you could see the straw thatched roofs and small pens alongside each house for their cows and sheep. We made our way down and walked through tiny village. When we came to the road where our bus awaited for us, women with prayer wheels smiled as they walked by and said “Jullay!”

As I write music blasts downstairs. Every Tuesday night is dance night where Ladakhis dance. And when I say dance I mean singing full heartedly and dancing in laughter. It is so fun to watch and even more fun to join! The first night I witnessed I literally fell onto my knees laughing at how INTO it they can get! They shout back and forth and the boys dance just as much as the girls. There is no sense of self consciousness here when it comes to dancing and singing. I love it. And they dance mostly with their hands and upper body where as we dance mostly with our hips. There’s not flirtatious gestures or movements between the girls and boys here. They are very comfortable with each other and I still can’t tell if there is even such a thing as having a crush. They have continual physical contact with each other which I think is stems from learning this during their development at home. Boys seem so much more self-secure than back home in that they will hold hands with each other all the time. The people here don’t talk about being homosexual. The concept just doesn’t exist in conversation. It leads me to wonder how difficult people who are gay must find it living here if it’s never talked about. I think this could be the reason boys are so comfortable being happily touchy with each other; there is no need to prove their masculinity like there is in the US. It’s funny, whenever anyone talks to me they either hold my hand or hug me. It’s a very touchy feely culture and I like it because there is no sense of taking it to the next level – it’s simply genuine affection. During dance nights they play mostly Hindi and Ladakhi songs with one or two American songs including Barbie Girl are mixed in. It’s hilarious watching these 19 20 year old boys going nuts to Barbie Girl. It’s an innocent society not yet invaded by the concepts of self esteem issues and the pressure to accumulate things to show off. It’s really wonderful.