To Ladakh by air

It was mid-May when we visited Ladakh and the road from Manali to Leh was not yet open. It is considered one of the best road trips ever, and I hope to do it some day. But for then, we had to fly in to Leh from Delhi. Bleary-eyed, I sat looking out of the window for the promised glimpses of the mountains below. Dry brown slowly gave way to dark mountains with peaks capped by snow and clouds and then suddenly there was only pure white – and the sight took my breath away.

A view from the top

On the way in, the sunlight was harsh and direct, making photography difficult – and luckily, on the other side when we flew out. And so, we were blessed with the best possible views.

From the skies

Today’s Yummies

Spotted on the streets of Leh:

I spent hours and hours walking in Leh, up and down the narrow market roads, chatting with the street vendors, stopping for coffee and snacks at the German Bakery, watching people and generally having (my idea of) a perfect holiday. After those alluring road signs all over Ladakh, what I loved most were these signboards in front of restaurants in Leh. Most restaurants were still shut for the off-season months when we were in Ladakh (this May) but the ones that were open called out to tourists with these inviting boards.

I mean, how, just how, can anyone resist those sexy Thai soups and Lazy Italian pastas? But here is the thing, what exactly makes a soup sexy? Why then can’t they add that to their noodles and curries too?

In another context, I had blogged cribbed about the Lonely Planetization of travel (food, specifically) – but signboard-spotting can still be great fun.

Some of them, though, like this one, start with great promise (Banana fat?!) but get all sober and correct by the time they end…

Ladakh

Ladakh on my mind

My thoughts are with the warm and friendly people of Ladakh and the devastation caused by the recent cloudburst over Leh. I take a break from my enforced rest for a bad back to quickly post this piece I had written on Ladakh for The Women’s International Perspective recently – Buddhism in Ladakh: Everyday, Everywhere.

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Maitreya Buddha

High in the north Indian state of Kashmir sits Ladakh, held by many as the last bastion of Himalayan Buddhism. Since Tibet is out of bounds for most tourists, Ladakh now attracts travelers and spiritual seekers who come for glimpses of a traditional Buddhist way of life; even seasoned travelers go so far as to describe it as the last Shangri La.

It is true that Kashmir is a war-torn region, however, the turmoil does not touch Ladakh, a good 280 miles from the capital city of Srinagar. Nor are there any foreign invaders intent upon destroying Buddhism to establish their own faith.

Today, the (perceived) threat to Ladakhi Buddhism is from a different kind of invasion – globalization – brought by travelers and their notions of modernity that invariably spread along with them. And with this comes concerns about the erosion of a faith and way of life that is centuries old.

Spinning a little prayer

Devotion

Ladakh derives its meaning from La-Dags or “land of high passes”. As early as 1 A.D. Ladkah was an important trading post on the ancient silk route, hosting traders from both the West and East. Buddhism is said to have come into Western Ladakh via Kashmir in the 2nd century A.D. during the reign of the Kushan dynasty and spread later in the 8th century A.D. from Tibet. Soon, there was a well-established Buddhist kingdom in Leh, Ladakh, extending all the way to Lhasa, Tibet, some 850 miles away.

The first monastery in Ladakh was set up by Indian pilgrim Mahasiddha Naropa in the 10th century at Lamayuru, where it still sits unperturbed in the desolate moonscape scenery surrounding it.

Soopah stupa

Today, over 50% of Ladakh is Buddhist; only the small, self-contained Brokpa tribe in Ladakh practice Bonism (a faith pre-dating Buddhism in Ladakh) while Islam is followed by most in Western Ladakh.

Prayer

Different sects flourished under the Buddhist kings until the Gelugkpa (Yellow Hat) order, introduced by the Tibetan philosopher Tsongkhapa in the 14th century, became the dominant path. Towards the 16th century, Ladakh fell to the Muslim invaders from the West but Buddhism nonetheless managed to survive and eventually thrive through these battles. It further flourished under the Namgyal dynasty established by Singge Namgyal in the late 16th century. And although the Drukpa (Red Hat) order gained prominence under the Namgyal kings, Ladhaki Buddhists still venerate the Dalai Lama of Tibet (of the Gelugkpa order) as their spiritual leader.

However, in my travels in Ladakh, I see no signs that validate concerns of a disappearing way of life; traditional Buddhist customs are very much an integral part of daily life. Though the trappings of modernity are visible everywhere, especially in Leh – mobile phones, internet cafes and young men in jeans – all across Ladakh, in the markets, villages and remote areas, people walk about in traditional costumes with prayer wheels in hand and smiles on their faces.

Up here, the high altitude lakes blow biting cold winds throughout the year. Monasteries and stupas serve as living museums of the faith, with their rich collection of frescoes and murals, prayer artifacts, texts and idols.

Making a mandala

Up here, Ladkahi Buddhism is alive and thriving.

Memories of Ladakh

This is the scene of confluence of the sparkling blue-green Indus with the muddy blue-brown Zanskar near the tiny village of Nimmo, just a hour’s drive from Leh in Ladakh. The two mighty rivers merge at this point, and flow on as the Indus. It is a popular spot for rafting among visitors and falls on the way from Leh to the ancient monasteries of Alchi and Likir, and Lamayuru further ahead. I think it is one of the prettiest spots in Ladkah.

Confluence

This is one of the images that was recently displayed at a photography exhibition at the Alliance Francaise Bangalore. This is the other:

Cloudscapes

A day spent by the shores of Pangong Tso (‘tso’ for lake in Ladakhi) is one of the highlights of a trip to Ladakh. The lake changes colours by the minute, hundreds of shades of blue, dictated purely by the whims of the sun at that time. Pangong is a salt water lake situated at an elevation of over 4250 meters (13900 feet). It stretches on for 134 km, at its widest no more than 5 km, and over 2/3rds of it lies in China.

The road to Pangong

The route to Pangong is through the ‘mighty’ Chang La, proudly referred to as the third highest motorable pass in the world. In mid May, when we headed to Pangong, Chang La was completely covered in snow, making the journey as exciting and interesting as the destination. The trip took close to seven hours, what with all the stops for food and photography, snow clearing and for letting the more impatient vehicles pass and lagging behind the slower, larger ones.

At Chang La, the tent serving the customary cup of tea to weary travelers stayed shut in this off-season month and so we made our way to the other side after a few minutes out in the biting cold. We stopped at the tiny village of Tangtse for a quick lunch and headed on to Pangong. And just the first glimpse of Pangong, from a distance, just a small circle of brilliant blue is worth the long road journey.

At Tangtse, we stayed in a tent at Camp Watermark, close to the shores of the lake, spending the evening in frozen delight, watching the water change colours as the sun slowly disappeared among the snow-capped mountains. The temperature was close to zero degrees when we stepped out for dinner at eight p.m. and later in the night, dropped to -5 degrees!Inside the tent though, all was warm and cozy; we were tightly zipped up against the cold and under two heavy blankets.

Pangong is a salt water lake situated at an elevation of over 4250 meters (13900 feet). It stretches on for 134 km, at its widest no more than 5 km, and over 2/3rds of it lies in China. A day spent by the shores of Pangong Tso (‘tso’ for lake in Ladakhi) is one of the highlights of a trip to Ladakh. The lake changes colours by the minute, hundreds of shades of blue, dictated purely by the whims of the sun at that time.

Highlights of Ladakh

I have just returned from two weeks in Ladakh – mid May turned out to be a great time to go, despite the severe cold and dark clouds during the first few days – the high passes kept getting shut due to snowfall and our plans kept getting changed from day to day, yet more snow and fewer people made it all a dream holiday.

A few highlights for now:

~ the cheerful Juley! greeting from everyone on the streets, perfect strangers smiling at you…

~ landing at Leh, flying over the thick snow-clad mountains and then the shock of the stark brown hills of Ladakh, and the descent on to the tiny runway bounded by Spituk monastery on one end…

~ the unpredictable weather – clouds, rain, snow and sunshine in the same day…

~ driving to Pangong up the high Chang La, totally covered in snow, the pure white and brown like ice-cream with chocolate sauce…

~ the blues of Pangong, a hundred different shades all at the same time…

~ the blues of Tso Moriri, similar yet different from Pangong lake, the route along the crystal clear Indus all the way through…

~ the monasteries with their friendly monks, and especially the monklings (the young ones in training), all surviving the severe weather conditions over centuries, all unique in some way that makes it hard to play favourites…

~ walking up and down the tiny market road, chatting with the vendors of green vegetables and dried fruit and learning their names, just to forget them the next minute…

~ hot momos and thukpa soup, vegetable chowmein and the green chilli sauce, peanut cookies and mint tea, alu parathas and rajma chawal…

~ making friends with other travelers, many of them sophisticated world travelers who lose their world-weariness in Ladakh and give in to its quiet charm, some for months on end…