Essay

Agri-Culture and Agriculture
Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Agri-Culture and Agriculture

Himkatha

Agriculture on the earth is about 10,000-12,000 years old and it appeared in India about 8000-9000 years ago. From hunting and gathering in the forests, how humans came to produce grains and how the entire process must have grown and spread across migrants, communities, regions and countries – is a fascinating history by itself. But have we ever paused to wonder or ask, what was it about agriculture that so many millennia later, it continues to be the principal foundation of our lives, relevance and survival and the main yardstick of our life’s fertility and continuous existence?

The primary significance of agriculture lies in its role as the provider of our food, sustaining our physical well-being and activity. However, its significance extends beyond mere sustenance. For instance, let me ask you, the food that we eat, does that affect us only physically? The straight answer to that is – No! Besides producing food for our physical body, the entire process of agriculture nurtures our minds and souls, transforming us into individuals capable of thoughtful contemplation with wisdom. This, in turn, has given birth to or impacted all aspects of our lives, be these physical, mental or spiritual, and social, economic and cultural. Just take a look around yourself and you will realize that there is no aspect of our society and lives – be it our meditations on the forests or the water, or our livelihood resources or artistic endeavours – which has not emanated or developed as a result of our agricultural pursuits. In different times and space, struggling through various passages and milestones, agriculture has nurtured human and social survival and our civilizations; and the society too, by making it a major part of one’s daily life, thought and sociability. Thus, it has given birth to and developed various aspects of social life and allowed itself to remain relevant.

Here, we are trying to look at the changes that have occurred in agriculture throughout its journey. For this, there are two aspects of agriculture that we need to look at a little closely – (1) Agriculture as the physical aspect or task of growing food crops; and (2) Going beyond the physical act of growing food and assimilating agriculture into the very nature of one’s social life, i.e. turning the entire process into agri-culture. For want of appropriate terminology let us call these as Agriculture and Agri-culture (Agri as Culture). Can you see the difference between the two – difference between the act of growing food and making the act as part of one’s culture? When we look from such a perspective, we can see that, if agriculture had remained just the physical act of growing food, then it would have become a mere profession but by developing it into agri-culture it has become a vocation and occupation that is at the very centre of our entire life. By turning it into agri-culture, an interactive bond developed between it and the society, leading to both learning and feeding from and giving to each other. This is why, no society ever, defined agriculture as a profession or trade nor treated it as such, but turned it into a life-style, which did not allow agriculture to remain stagnant and rooted but imbued it with the trait of “renewability”, enabling it across time and space, down to the needs and traits of every local community, in accordance with local experience, wisdom and sensibilities that enable it to remain relevant, alive and forever in step with the times. The trait of renewability developed into a natural trait which gave society the “vardaan” of the everlasting – and which we call development.

By harping on this difference, and seeking to use the two terms “change” and “renewability” with two different meanings, I wish to see and analyse the changes that we are seeking to understand. It might be appropriate that we analyse the dimensions and meanings of these two terms, for a clearer understanding of the change that we are discussing.

Are the terms “change” and “renewability”, synonyms?

I think not, and this is what I am seeking to understand and explain. Further, if we can see “agriculture and agri-culture” and “change and renewability” in the context of each other then we may be able to grasp better the essence of change in this sector in the last fifty odd years. For this, we may need to compare these in two distinct time eras.

The changes that have happened in agri-culture in the last 50 or so years are actually the consequence of changes in society that began with the advent of industrial revolution in Europe about two-three hundred years ago. That period provides a distinct dividing line across which we can clearly see an overall difference in the basic nature, belief, concept, action and result between agriculture and agri-culture. We can then clearly understand the cause and the impact of the changes that we have been witnessing in the last four-five decades.

The pre-industrial revolution 10-12 thousand years saw countless small and big changes. However, those changes happened in different times, in different places and amidst different communities and in accordance with retaining the balance of and in cooperation with the five elements. The genesis of those changes happened at specific local levels and no change was sudden but happened slowly as a result of close observation and experience over a long period. In other words, those changes had elements of deep reflection and experiment, wherein some experiments may have been fruitful and some not successful, immediately or over time, on the basis of which the society would have accepted, rejected, corrected or improved upon those. And such a process continued constantly. In fact, this entire process of doing, seeing, improving, adding on was what gave agriculture the trait that we are naming and explaining as “renewability” – wherein something new did not happen suddenly but grew on the foundation of the old and which sought to carry the old a few steps ahead.

Barahnaja, a traditional system of taking 12 crops in a year; Beej Bachao Andolan

What was special or specific about any such change or development was that it was based entirely on the experience and wisdom of the local farming community. As a result, there was a development of a repository of traditional knowledge which was not limited to grains and crops but assimilated understanding and knowledge of all natural resources. This encouraged at the local geographical level, diversity of crops growing in the field and the food being cooked in the kitchens. Not just that, its impact was seen and felt beyond local agriculture practice, on the development of native languages and proverbs, diverse folk arts and culture, and gave birth to the technology of making wood or metal implements and utensils. This is where, agriculture went beyond growing crops and adopted the wide character of what I have termed as agri-culture to become an intrinsic and inherent part of life, to become its lifestyle. It will not be an exaggeration to claim that it was this agri-culture which developed in the humans, observation based scientific temper and process which further developed among the humans, an understanding of climate and weather, botany and zoology, etc. Try to look at basic knowledge in any discipline and you will find that its seeds germinated as a result of and in the general environment created by agri-culture. Indeed, despite its very local nature and characteristics, agri-culture proved to assimilate within itself the vast and global natural vision. It became a close reflection of nature’s godly vision, and played a critical role in the existence and continued well-being of this earth.

If we take this entire spectrum together and borrow from the definition of democracy, we can say that the renewability in agri-culture is of the people, for the people, by the people. From concept to planning and execution, the entire responsibility and control remained with the local community.

Agri-culture which was life’s philosophy, a lifestyle is today a mere profession and mode of employment. In fact, it is no longer agri-culture and has reverted to being plain agriculture. Today, it is no longer a medium to enhance life but just to stay alive and afloat, to remain economically alive. The agriculture which is being encouraged and propagated today is no longer social but industrial, or in other words, the society no longer owns it but has rapidly been given to or taken over by the industrial and corporate companies. It is not based on the knowledge invented or developed by the farmers on the field, but the entire thought, observation, research and implementation is developed in the laboratory of some institution or company and then served as a package to the farmers. This is not part of agri-culture’s renewability emerging from the existing practice and from within the society and indeed, it is not even a change but an intentionally planned campaign (even, a conspiracy), a replacement deliberately imposed from the above and outside, to completely uproot this most important function in society. The cardinal characteristics of agri-culture were then steadily marginalized and erased.

This replacement about 50-60 years ago, which turned agri-culture on its head did not come with the Green Revolution (more appropriately called Greed Revolution) then but was the consequence of what had emerged as the industrial revolution two-three hundred years ago. And it started with de-legitimising traditional society’s existence, identity and knowledge by naming it ‘backward’ and following it up by seeking to shame people’s knowledge systems and their seeds. It was crucial and strategic that this society begin to have an inferiority complex about oneself. This was the first essential stage of the conspiracy. Once this was achieved, it was followed by a systematic replacement of the principles, methods, seeds with the means that it had created. As a result, a creative, productive and self-reliant society has today become a dependent slave farmer society.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

An important aspect of this change in India was the establishment of the institution of the Zamindari system, wherein the society itself saw its division into two distinct classes. This system, the “divide and rule” confiscated from farmers their independence and creativity and turned them into slaves at the village level itself. So, there is an entire stretch of an exploitative pattern, which later developed into the introduction and dominance of Green Revolution. In the course of the industrial revolution starting from Europe, all aspects of agri-culture were side-lined one by one. This started with terming the entire identity of character of a local society as backward. It was important, in fact, essential for new agriculture to establish itself by downgrading and marginalizing traditional knowledge systems and particularly, its local seeds, and for the people to feel ashamed of their own rich traditions. Once this was done, it was followed by introducing and establishing its own means and resources. The net result of this was that a productive farming society has today become an enslaved, dependent society.

Let us try to understand this through an example or two.

Earlier, seeds of any grain or produce came from the farmers themselves and whose ownership was theirs, collectively. Any seed needed, in the first instance, came from their own homes, or neighbours, or village, or neighbouring villages. Those were seeds which bred and prospered in the soil and water of the respective village, were acclimatized to the local geographical conditions and situations, and which were also the reasons that resulted in their tremendous diversity.  Consequently, this diversity enabled the seeds or crops to develop characteristics to suit every season, every taste, every health point of view and which provided them with tremendous disease resistance and ensured the society remarkable prosperity.

This led people to develop their own exchange traditions and practices – seeds travelled from one farmer to another, one community to another, one village to another, one society to another. For instance, a borrower did not have to pay the lender but only later, post-harvest returned to the lender double the amount (or whatever measure the community practiced) they had taken. A typical exchange practice also had a humanitarian aspect to it – for reasons of flood or drought or any other, if the crop failed, the borrower did not feel forced to return the lent amount to the lender – it was an unwritten understanding within the society. What this ultimately meant is that there was regular availability of seeds in the community.

Today, the system has been turned on its head. The control over seeds has been usurped from the farmers’ hands to the company’s control – and the farmers from the producer and master has become a mere customer bound by the company’s many conditions of restriction, rising cost and despair – all that farmers today understand clearly and suffer, but are not in a position to do anything about it.

Let us look at another example on this. Today, as the harvest begins to fall rapidly after a year or more, farmers need to change the seeds – and actually, purchase new ones. This considerably enhances the farmers’ input costs. The fall in production, is a basic failing of any crop or seed, which farmers were well aware of. However, earlier, farmers did not need to change their seeds as frequently or rapidly as they do now. And even then, farming communities had developed their own mechanisms of seed-change. At the first level, they would merely change the field (avoid growing a crop in the same field every year), and change seeds only after considerable number of years. The entire system of seed change, from concept to practice was in the farmers’ or community control, and so it continued to remain even after seed exchange. But today, with what guile and cleverness, this community practice has been taken away from their hands and turned into a practice of excessive profit of the companies.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Likewise, comparing old agri-culture and new agriculture, we can see how a farmer in their practice has gone from being a self-reliant producer to becoming a mere consumer, from being a master to becoming an employee, service provider or servant. And agri-culture which was critical or foundational to maintain the ecological balance of the earth, has through consumption and exploitation become a trade and profession. Our food crops are no longer a gift of nature but are a market product. Farmers who had a god-like status of being providers of food have today become mere service providers to large companies.

Don’t you find it strange or doesn’t it trouble you that farmers are possibly the only producers who do not determine the price of their produce, unlike manufacturing companies that fix the price of their own manufactured material, and consumers readily pay that price. Not just determine the price but also raise or lower that to suit their convenience, for profit or even as a nefarious act. We normally do not pay attention to this or choose to ignore it.

Many institutions and organisations are trying to address these issues. Of late, the growing acceptance of organic food crops have increased the demand for mountain produce – which, in any case, are organic by default, and which have allowed more and more organisations to work with farmers. For a while it appeared that, at last, we will be able to look up to the farmers and regard them for the honour that is rightfully theirs. But, in reality, has it helped?  When you look at the wider picture, you realise that this is yet another scenario of the initiative being trapped in the grips of the market and companies. Instead of re-establishing the ecological and natural values of agri-culture, organic is rapidly being assimilated into the market system. What the organisations are doing are ultimately only fighting the market within the existing market concept, instead of looking for their own markets.  It is an unequal battle where the rules are laid down by and controlled by the market. How can you battle the market in the latter’s arena?

As such, earlier the farmers cultivated for their families and communities, today they are essentially cultivating for the market. And a good test can be, to find out how many of such successful farmers wish their children to go in to farming.

If we can grasp the essence of the basic differences between agriculture and agri-culture, we will be able to see more clearly the location of local and global changes happening in farming. Hopefully, that would enable us to determine our future course of action better.

2000 2000 Biju Negi
Shangdong to Stupa
Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

Shangdong to Stupa

Himkatha

Two years ago, during a winter vacation, I took my four-year-old daughter, Gyanzin Yeeyong Wangmo, to a Shangdong, an ancient wolf trap. I wanted to share the stories of my childhood and the experiences of our village, where people once relied heavily
on livestock for their livelihood. The Shangdong was a method used to control the wolf population and protect domestic animals from these predators. I vividly remember a day when, on my way to school, I heard a commotion—dogs barking and
people shouting. Drawn by curiosity, I arrived at the scene to find a wolf trapped and being stoned by the villagers. The reactions were mixed: some were relieved, while others, particularly the elderly, chanted “OM MANI PADME HUM,” praying for the
wolf’s soul. This ritual reflected a deep-seated ambivalence—people felt compelled to kill the wolf, but not without sorrow.

​Sharing these stories with Gyanzin made me reflect on the complex relationship between our community and wildlife. It also reminded me of the “Shangdong to Stupa” project initiated by the Nature Conservation Foundation (NCF) in 2016. The project aimed to replace these wolf traps with stupas, symbolizing a shift from harm to healing and from fear to coexistence. The first stupa was built in Chushul, and since then, six more have been constructed across Ladakh.​

​The site I visited with Gyanzin seemed a fitting location for another stupa. I reached out to Karma Sonam, the field coordinator at NCF, to discuss the possibility of incorporating this site into the project. Despite recent incidents of wolves preying on livestock in the valley, including losses within our own family, we believed that fostering a more positive attitude toward wildlife was crucial.

Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

On July 20, 2024, with the collective efforts of the NCF and the villagers of Tharuk, the seventh stupa was completed near a traditional Shangdong in the Serkungchan valley. This effort, part of the “Shangdong to Stupa” project, represents a significant move towards wildlife conservation and a renewed respect for nature. The construction began on July 14, 2024, with the support of Karma Sonam, the NCF team, skilled stupa makers from Nubra, and the Tharuk villagers. The stupa was completed on July 19 and consecrated on July 20 by His Eminence Bakula Rangdol Nima Rinpoche, Khenpo Shedrup, and monks from Shachukul Monastery.

His Eminence Bakula Rangdol Nima Rinpoche, who had blessed the first stupa at Chushul in 2018, encouraged the community to live in harmony with wildlife and to cherish their natural surroundings . He commended the efforts of NCF and the Tharuk villagers, emphasizing the importance of this project as a model for other regions in Ladakh and the Himalayas, where similar traditional practices still persist.

The transformation from Shangdong to Stupa symbolizes a journey of forgiveness and a commitment to conservation. It reflects a growing awareness and respect for the delicate balance of our ecosystem, where both humans and wildlife can coexist peacefully. Through this initiative, we hope to inspire other communities to embrace compassionate and sustainable practices, ensuring a harmonious future for all beings.

Left: A local lady seeks blessings at the Stupa site in Tharuk. Right: Gyanzin Yeeyong Wangmo at the Shangdong to Stupa site in Tharuk

2560 1920 Dr. Stanzin Namgial
Changes in Agriculture (Ladakh)
Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Changes in Agriculture (Ladakh)

Himkatha

The rapid shift away from agriculture to other economic activities is a common trend in many agrarian economies globally, often driven by factors such as urbanization, changing lifestyles, and economic opportunities outside the agricultural sector. Agriculture in Ladakh is no exception.

In the traditional Ladakhi farming and food system, the sun provided the primary energy, enabling plant growth, muscle-based labour power and fast-flowing water for milling and irrigating. The fertility of the soil and crops came from recycling of manure and compost (lut, chulut, and the like) into the fields and from minerals in the glacial melt-water. ‘Packaging’ – if any – was in the form of hand-made woolen sacks, wooden and clay vessels, willow baskets, and masonry granaries, all of which could be safely returned to the soil after they wore out. Transportation of the crops was done with muscle power, and cooking done with local renewable fuels like dung cakes or wood sticks. Care was taken to conserve pasturelands through rotational grazing, and farmers tried to minimise harm done even to insects in the fields. The ecological footprint – meaning total ecological impacts including energy and water consumption, waste generation, etc. – was very low. In current terms, we could say that the traditional Ladakhi farming and food system was solar-powered, zero-external input, zero-waste, regenerative, closed-loop, and sustainable!

Today, while much of the traditional farming and food system continues to exist, it is steadily being eroded by a number of profound socio-economic changes. The environmental impacts of these changes are increasing year by year.

One of the important changes has been the decline of villages due to various reasons and the decline in farming-pastoralism systems that sustained them for centuries. The growth of tourism, the army, and competitive education have combined to drain young people, and young men in particular, out of the villages and into Leh, or even further away. As a result, there is less total labour available, and more farming work has fallen on village women and paid labour. Many fields that were once lush and green in the summers today lie fallow for lack of people to work them. With fewer people, livestock herds have decreased significantly, and in the case of goats and sheep nearly disappeared from many villages. While this change may have benefitted wild herbivores to some extent by reducing competition for forage, it has also reduced the amount of rich, organic local manure available for soil and crop nutrition. To make up for this, many farmers turn to the use of synthetic fertilisers which pollute both water and air, and are very energy-intensive to manufacture from fossil fuels.

Crops & Water

The decline of agriculture is also seen in the reduction of diversity in crops including pulses, cereals and pseudo cereals like buckwheat (although efforts are slowly being made to bring back buckwheat). Fewer local pulses like the traditional black bean in Ladakhi fields and kitchens diminishes the health of the local diet as well as local soils. Pulses naturally fix atmospheric nitrogen into the soil, so when they are planted there is no need for nitrogen fertilisers. Without them, however, an important source of natural fertility is lost. In terms of oilseeds, whereas Ladakhis formerly cultivated local mustard more extensively and produced much of their own edible oil, today mustard farming is also declining. Commercial edible oils, packaged in plastic bottles and trucked in from the Indian plains are now widely used in Ladakhi kitchens.

In the 14,000-foot village of Gya, farmers used to cultivate different varieties of barley because the area’s climate was conducive to their growth. Because of the region’s low temperatures, wheat is rarely grown in Ladakh’s eastern region. The people in that same region are currently cultivating over thirty-six to thirty-seven different kinds of grains and vegetables. Acho Urgain, from Gya village, says that this may be because he has access to a wider range of plants these days. He is cultivating new crops like quinoa, and Tse Tse (Foxtail millet), which are native Ladakh millets that are rarely grown these days. Since 2014, green peas have been grown extensively throughout Ladakh because of factors including climate change that favours such crops, but more importantly because of increasing commercialisation of agriculture, as green peas have high market demand inside and outside Ladakh. A variety of relatively novel vegetables are today grown, such as cauliflower, cabbage, beetroot, and various turnip varieties.

One of the many changes in agriculture that people in the mountains are facing is a lack of water, especially during times of great need.  It is imperative that water be given to the fields by the end of March or the start of April. Variable weather patterns cause glaciers to hold onto water by not melting during the seeding season. June 21st marks the change of the days, so in July there will still be a water shortage. Another impact of climate change on agriculture is from increasing likelihood and severity of glacial lake outburst floods, which have had catastrophic impacts on downstream villages, such as in Gya village in 2007, 2009, and 2014.

Land use

The perspective of agri-entrepreneur Rinchen Yutol from Reetsot in Ladakh highlights the rapid changes in the past decade, which may present both challenges and opportunities.

The conversion of agricultural lands into concrete structures poses a significant challenge, and reversing this process is often impractical. This irreplaceable loss reduces self-reliance in food and increases dependency on imported foods. Such dependency increases vulnerability in the case of any disruptions (like fuel shortages, or road closures) in the transportation network across the Himalaya. Additionally, the fragmentation of agricultural lands due to nuclear families can further reduce the overall agricultural land use.

Chortens and fields of Markha | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Fertilisers

Synthetic fertilisers have been used in Ladakh since about the late 1970s, supplied by the government at highly subsidised rates. Three main synthetic fertilisers are used: urea, DAP (diammonium phosphate), and MOP (Muriate of Potash/potassium chloride). Data from the Agriculture Department and Mission Organic Development Initiative of Ladakh show that in general, quantities of synthetic fertiliser use are decreasing in Ladakh. This trend is reflective of the Hill Council’s new vision to make Leh District fully organic within 10 years. This is very encouraging, since the more fertilisers are used, the more they disrupt the availability of natural nitrogen in the soil, which requires more fertilisers – a chemical addiction!

Besides the loss of livestock manure, the shift to flush toilets and septic tanks accompanying tourism – especially but not only in Leh – is also depriving the soil of rich human manure from traditional compost toilets.

To supplement local supplies, there are new initiatives to bring animal manure from Changthang for use in villages in the farming districts of Ladakh, and the government is also importing organic manure from Punjab. While this is certainly a welcome change from chemical fertilisers, transporting manure and compost also carries an environmental cost in terms of fuel consumption and diesel smoke exhaust. A future challenge will therefore be to generate organic manure and compost closer to where it is to be used, to reduce transport costs and pollution, and to keep valuable local nutrients recycling through local soils. Aggressive promotion of compost toilets, restaurant and residential food scrap collection and composting, and other initiatives could play a role in regenerating the local compost economy.

Seeds

One of the most crucial factors to consider when examining the changes in any region’s agriculture is the seed. The availability of native or local seeds is impacted by the decline in production of native or older crops. The majority of seeds for vegetables that are currently offered by the government or in the market are or hybrid seeds, which have the potential to alter the agricultural landscape of Ladakh, and have implications for the food sovereignty of the region and the economic independence of its farmers.

Traditional threshing of harvest in Lamayuru | Photo:Wikimedia Commons

Mechanisation

Dependence on fossil fuel energy has also been increasing in agriculture and pastoralism, as traditional tools, draught animals and techniques are replaced by mechanical, gas-powered threshing machines, mills, ploughs, tractors, etc. In Changthang, pick-up trucks and jeeps are steadily replacing draught animals, which impact the topsoil of the rangelands. This transition also increases dependency on the money economy and outside jobs to pay for hiring or buying the machines and the fuel to power them.

Conclusion

The shift away from the traditional farming and food system in Ladakh, combined with forces like tourism, is clearly having very undesirable environmental impacts. If both public health and the environment are being degraded by this shift, then maybe it is time to rethink, change direction and regenerate the local food economy. How could this happen? The Hill Council’s commitment to making Ladakh an organic farming region is a very encouraging first step. Additionally, the optimism and enthusiasm shown by individuals like Acho Urgain and Rinchen Youtol are encouraging. Their deep understanding of the importance of agriculture in the current era, both economically and beyond, suggests a potential for positive change. Initiatives that focus on sustainable and innovative agricultural practices, coupled with educational programs to raise awareness about the significance of agriculture, can contribute to the revival and retention of this essential sector. In what other ways can the government and local people support such a change, discouraging packaged junk food while encouraging a return to traditional crops, restoration of livestock herds, village renewal, and so on? How can arable land be protected in perpetuity for farming? Can modern farm machines be powered by local, renewable energy? How can young people addicted to junk food rediscover and revalue healthy local foods? What role can tourists play in supporting local, organic food and farming? These and many other questions will need to be urgently answered.

1440 960 Alex Jensen
Juniper: The Sacred Conifer
A sacred Lha-to in Nubra Valley | Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper: The Sacred Conifer

Himkatha

Shukpa or Juniper (Juniperus spp.)  is a distinct evergreen tree, sometimes a shrubby tree, that belongs to the conifer group of gymnosperms. Known to grow at the highest elevations on earth, juniper is well distributed all over the Northern Hemisphere from Arctic to the tropics, and most abundantly in the temperate regions of Europe, North America and Himalayan ranges in Asia.

Ecologically, juniper is an important species in the fragile cold desert ecosystem. It survives freezing temperatures and grows luxuriantly in the cold arid climate, on rugged high-altitude slopes of Ladakh. Juniper plays a significant role in supporting different life-forms of the cold desert ecosystem including crawling insects, chirping birds and busy rodents. Juniper berries and leaves are food for many. It acts as soil binding agent preventing soil erosion. The blooming juniper growing along jagged terrain of the Himalaya gives an enchanting green hue to the stark cold desert landscape, otherwise barren and snow covered for most part of the year.

Ladakh is bestowed with three species of the genus Juniperus i.e. J. polycarpos (Himalayan Pencil Cedar), J. recurva (Weeping Blue Juniper) and J. communis (Common Juniper). Juniper species have a sparse distribution in Ladakh. Among the three species, Himalayan Pencil Cedar is characterised by its 2 to 5 seeded, bluish-black cone and is restricted to high mountain valleys of Sham and Nubra region in Leh district at an altitude of 7,000-14,000 ft. The Common Juniper having 3 seeded blue-black cones is found abundantly along Zojila and Batalik hills (5,400-14,000ft.), while the Weeping Blue Juniper, which is popular for its one seeded brown-purple cone, is found along the alpine slopes of Kargil at 7,500-12,500 feet.

Ladakh is one of the few places in India to find junipers. All three species are locally known as Shukpa among the Buddhist communities and Chilgi among the Brokpa tribes of Ladakh. Of the three flourishing junipers, the Himalayan Pencil Cedar has immense socio-cultural and religious significance for the people of Ladakh and is considered a sacred tree among the Buddhists. The rich culture, tradition and festivals, especially Losar – traditional New Year in Ladakh witnesses use of the fragrant juniper.

Some important uses of juniper, particularly the Himalayan Pencil Cedar in Ladakh include:

Juniper for decorating Lha-thos

People of Ladakh and Tibet used green twigs of junipers to decorate Lha-thos, a typical structure comprising of a bunch of juniper twigs – Lha-shuk fixed in between the rock edges or in a small square wall made of clay, bricks or/and stone, at the elevated top of a hill or roof.

The term Lha-thos is derived from the words Lha that stands for a divine spirit or deity and thos meaning a square wall. As per Buddhist mythology, people consider Lha-thos to be a shrine of divine beings that reside there and protect people from evil spirits and undesired incidents. Lha-thos are decorated annually during Losar that usually falls in the month of December. During this event, it is customary to replace old juniper twigs at Lha-thos with fresh bunches. The Lha-thos and Lha-shings are subsequently worshiped by offering phoks – juniper incense and kalcholr – a sacred barley drink and the illumination of earthen lamps containing apricot oil.

People are prohibited from any sort of unhygienic or unlawful activity around these structures. It is commonly believed that Lha-thos and its surrounding areas must be kept clean, as infuriating a Lha could bring bad luck on the polluter. In the event of a defilement, local people rush to call the local priests – Lamas, who then perform exceptional prayers known as Lhabsangs to purify the guilty from their sins and to sanitize the area.

Juniper as incense

Owing to the pleasant aroma of juniper twigs, they are commonly used as an incense. Raw coal or dried dung cakes are placed in an earthen bowl locally called as phokspor specially designed for this purpose. Dried, crushed leaves and twigs of shukpa are put over the burning coal which produces a distinct smell. It is now known that this aromatic fragrance is due to presence of essential oils, terpenoids, diterpenoids and some phenolic compounds. People mix shukpa with several other plant products such as khampa (Tanacetum sp.), palu (Waldheimia glabra) and siyah mentok (flowers of Rosa foetida and R. webbiana) to use as an incense.

Owing to the pleasant aroma of juniper twigs, they are commonly used as an incense. Raw coal or dried dung cakes are placed in an earthen bowl locally called as phokspor specially designed for this purpose. Dried, crushed leaves and twigs of shukpa are put over the burning coal which produces a distinct smell. It is now known that this aromatic fragrance is due to presence of essential oils, terpenoids, diterpenoids and some phenolic compounds. People mix shukpa with several other plant products such as khampa (Tanacetum sp.), palu (Waldheimia glabra) and siyah mentok (flowers of Rosa foetida and R. webbiana) to use as an incense.

Cultural Heritage

Cultural heritage and sacredness of Juniper is depicted in several ladakhi folk songs that describe its value. For instance a stanza from a popular folk song goes:

Ladakhi

Ka langtakh yahgi ni tsamsteh ruhh
Pa lalu rulugsteh ruh chehnn
Ka langtakh yahgi ni tsamsteh ruhh
Yah lalu rulugsteh ruh chehnn
​
Pa lalu Yalu tahng majalahh
La lashing shkpa tangh jaal
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Stang chhogi Layul lang jung
​
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Yog djugs ki luyul lang jung
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Par choggs ki charms yul lanh jung

English

Along the foothills of huge mountains
Went in search of Palu (aromatic plant)
Along the foothills of huge mountains
Went in search of Yalu (a plant)
​
Palu and Yalu could not be found
The tree of Juniper appeared
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the upper world (heaven) of god
​
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the god of under-earth
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the middle world (earth)

Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper in Buddhist Monasteries

The sun dried and finely powdered twigs and leaves of juniper along with other material including some precious stones locally known as yuh, churu and motig are used to fill the inner hollow space of Buddhist statues or idols made from special local clay called markalaga. This amalgam is known as zungs.

Medicinal use of juniper

Local healers use juniper in the traditional Amchi system of medicine. The whole plant is used in treatment of nervous disorders, heart related diseases and kidney disorders. The plant is also used as an antibiotic for animals and for repelling flies.

Juniper in Buddhist Monasteries

The sun dried and finely powdered twigs and leaves of juniper along with other material including some precious stones locally known as yuh, churu and motig are used to fill the inner hollow space of Buddhist statues or idols made from special local clay called markalaga. This amalgam is known as zungs.

Medicinal use of juniper

Local healers use juniper in the traditional Amchi system of medicine. The whole plant is used in treatment of nervous disorders, heart related diseases and kidney disorders. The plant is also used as an antibiotic for animals and for repelling flies.

Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper as timber

Juniper wood is carved out for making Lak-shing, a wooden plate for covering Buddhist manuscripts. The Lak-shing is usually rectangular with an average length of 30-60 and 12-20 cm width. These are varnished or painted and/or decorated with some sacred paintings. Since juniper wood is believed to be strong, durable and highly resistant, large wooden logs of shukpa were historically used in erecting pillars, making door and window frames in monasteries.

Juniper in making of household articles

Twigs of juniper are used for making nose-ring locally called sNachu for yaks. Similarly, its wood is carved out to make a multi-purpose container, locally called zem used for storing barley wine, curd and wheat flour.

Threats and conservation status

It is unfortunate that despite its significance the sacred juniper is under threat. Multiple uses of juniper have led to a continuous demand in cultural, traditional and religious rituals. The Himalayan Pencil Cedar is placed under the Least Concerned (LC) category for conservation but was reported as declining in its natural habitat with severely fragmented populations in 2011.

One of the most potent threats is, perhaps, the use of juniper leaves and twigs in religious and cultural rituals. The extensive use of juniper as an aromatic incense is common with collection peaking on the eve of Losar for decoration of Lha-thos. Other biotic pressures include damage to young seedlings from livestock grazing, especially during winter when plants enter senescence. This pressure is compounded by the fact that juniper shows very poor regeneration, extremely low seed viability and long seed dormancy. These factors are barriers in its propagation and growth.

There is scope for better planning and management if we wish to improve the status of juniper population in Ladakh. While everyone expresses concern over the conservation, propagation and management of juniper, there is little action backing this concern. Irresponsible collection of wild junipers is rampant as Losar approaches each year. There is hardly any effort to monitor collection or any legal action taken against those in violation of wildlife protection laws. A combination of anthropogenic pressures, abiotic factors arising from changing climate, and the local socio-cultural significance of juniper, makes it necessary to prioritise the conservation of juniper patches across Ladakh. Junipers share a deep link with Ladakh’s indigenous culture, religion and ecology. There is an urgent need to better understand the status of local populations of juniper, degree of anthropogenic pressure, and future prospects and propagation techniques if we are to protect this cultural keystone.

How can we conserve our junipers?

  1. Design and enforce strict communal laws to monitor and prevent irresponsible collection and sale of juniper twigs, especially during Losar.
  2. Organise workshops, conferences and campaigns in both rural and urban areas to educate and create awareness among people.
  3. Increase research to improve our understanding of seed germination and juniper propagation techniques.
  4. Develop and implement an effective management plan backed with adequate support for propagation of juniper trees.

As individuals we must,

  1. Limit merciless cutting and selling of juniper twigs and encourage others for the same
  2. Remain careful when our livestock grazes in juniper forest and surrounding areas
  3. Educate and aware our friends, relatives, neighbours and villagers about the importance of juniper in our religion, culture and its role in fragile ecology. Discuss the values of juniper in Ladakhi society among the youth, especially in schools.
1200 898 Dr. Konchok Dorjey
Wild Edible Plants of Ladakh
Illustration: Peeyush Sheksaria

Wild Edible Plants of Ladakh

Himkatha

Geographically, Ladakh is in the rain shadow region of the mighty Himalayas. A high-altitude area with an extreme climatic cycle, the trans-Himalayan region of Ladakh is a unique cold desert. It is home to diverse lifeforms.

Over millennia, the region has also been home to a relatively isolated and self-reliant human society with its own distinctive culture and agro-pastoral way of living. Local people have rich knowledge of plants, especially of wild edible varieties, that have been consumed since time immemorial. These plants display unique adaptations to survive in the high elevations of Ladakh and its extreme climate. They have played a crucial role in shaping people’s lives and the traditional strategies adopted by them in overcoming challenges to living in Ladakh.

It is not surprising then that Ladakh is home to various traditional made using wild plants. In the past, communities prepared dishes on auspicious occasions. Various different wild plants are used in these traditional preparations. Some of the most commonly consumed wild edible plants include zatsot (Urtica hyperborea), kabra (Capparis spinosa), shalmasgok (Nepeta floccosa), Hans/Khi-khol-ma (Taraxacum officinalis), shangsho (Lepidium latifolium), snue (Chenopodium album), Azhangkabra (Christolea crassifolia), tsotse (Allium carolinianum), lachu (Rheum spiciforme), shrolo-marpo (Rhodiola tibetica), shrolo-serpo (Rhodiola imbricate), kumbuk/kosnyot (Carum carvi), zera-nakpo (Buniumper sicum), phololing (Mentha longifolia), toma (Potentilla anserine), sari (Cicermicro phyllum), demok (Arnibiaeu chroma), tsepad (Ephedra gerardiana), tsestalulu (Hippophae rhamnoides), siyahmarpo (Rosa webbiana), chuli (Prunus armeniaca) and starga (Juglans regia).

The consumption of wild edible plants has immense health and economic benefits. Firstly, unlike their cultivated cousins, wild plants are natural and self-nurtured without any harmful chemical fertiliser, pesticides and weedicides. Secondly, wild plants adapted to high-altitude cold desert conditions are known to have developed diverse secondary metabolites to protect themselves from extreme conditions, insects and microorganisms. These secondary metabolites are of immense medicinal value and provide health benefits.

There is considerable variation in the way these plants are used for cooking. Skotse, rasgokpa and luksgokpa (Allium carolinianum, A. prezewalskinam) and kosnyot are prominent aromatic species used as a spice condiment in different dishes. Tender shoots of Allium species are collected, ground into a paste, dried and used as a flavouring agent in local dishes like tangthur, tsonkitig, bagthuk and in local pickles. Similarly, seeds of kosnyot and zera-nakpo are used as a condiment in a traditional recipe called ten-ten. Leaves of shangsho form an important constituent of tsonkitig, a local preparation made using mixed vegetable and sattu (roasted barley flour). The young leaves and tender shoots of kabra are consumed after frying them, called kabra-tsotma in Sham region in western Ladakh. The leaves of phololing are used to prepare chutneys and occasionally mixed with curd as a flavouring component, while the leaves of shalmasgok are mixed with curd or lassi to prepare tangthur.

Freshly harvested Gyaman - flowers of Alluim sp | Photo: Chemi Lhamo

The tender shoots of shrolo-marpo and shrolo-serpo can be rinsed in running water and mixed with curd to prepare shrolo-tangthur. The green leaves of zatsot (stinging nettle) are collected and used to prepare zatsot-thukpa, while the young leaves of khi-khol-ma are used in thukpa. In the past, the edible berries of tsestalulu were collected, dried and powdered. It was then mixed with sattu and consumed. Similarly, seeds of sari were dried and ground into flour. The ripe berries of tsepad, roots of toma and green shoots of lachu are edible and can be eaten raw.

Declining use of edible plants

Ladakh has witnessed dramatic changes over the last few decades. There was a time when Ladakhi people were heavily dependent on wild plants to fulfil their dietary requirements. People would eagerly await spring-summer seasons when the collection of wild edible plants would peak. However, this collection was always for personal consumption and never for commercial purposes. There was a common practice of children going into the mountains or the fields after school to collect wild edible plants like kabra, shalmasgok, shrolo, zatsot, khi-khol-ma, kumbuk, shangsho etc. Nowadays, very few people know the art of collecting these wild resources. It is an aspect of our traditional knowledge that is eroding fast and will soon be lost forever.

There are multiple reasons for this unfamiliarity, and aversion to ethnic plant-based foods. The growth of the tourism industry in Ladakh and the introduction of horticulture-based vegetables are two major factors. In the last decade, Ladakh has witnessed a dramatic rise in horticulture, forestry and agriculture with the introduction of numerous cultivated plants. In addition to this, the influx of tourists has facilitated the introduction of western cuisine, which has devalued the cultural and economic importance of wild edible plants. This has also eroded Ladakh’s traditional knowledge

and use of wild plants as locals now favour western recipes over local ones. It is unfortunate that our younger generation is not troubled by this rapid loss of knowledge of edible wild plants and their ethnic preparations. Instead, most of them are eager to learn more about non-local cuisines and ingredients.

The need to preserve ethnic knowledge

There is an urgent need to preserve indigenous knowledge of wild plants and their preparation. Plant folklore, wild plant resources, and the usage of plants including cultural and religious taboos constitute an important aspect of our traditional knowledge. Reviving these traditions and the conventional use of plants will provide insight into Ladakh’s unique folklore and heritage. Furthermore, consumption of indigenous wild edible plants is healthier than cultivated vegetables. In comparison to cultivated varieties, wild plants are more nutritious, naturally resistant to pests, and most significantly, least contaminated and thus purely organic. In contrast, cultivated vegetables tend to be contaminated with toxic chemicals from fertilizers and insecticides that are known to cause deadly diseases such as cancer.

If we are to preserve local knowledge of wild plant consumption, community members and elders in each household must encourage youth to consume such plants and explore this knowledge system. At the same time, local households, hotels, restaurants, and retailers must also offer traditional preparations and dishes. Our local government must encourage people to explore this facet of our heritage and organise awareness programmes to conserve this knowledge. Wild edible plant consumption and preservation of this unique heritage may provide an alternative food resource for Ladakh’s nutrient deficiency. Plant collection and the consumption of traditional plant-based organic foods can also generate entrepreneurial opportunities for youth, while also enhancing the income of local farmers. However, we also need to make serious efforts to conserve wild biological diversity by ensuring that collection is sustainable and managed responsibly.

2185 1528 Phuntsog Dolma
Muds, cobs and clay: The Joy of Building
Earthbag dome (Leh, Ladakh)

Muds, cobs and clay: The Joy of Building

Himkatha

There’s unalloyed joy in sculpting with mud; mixing soil with clay, straw; sun-drying the bricks before finishing the cob structure with cow dung clay. The essence of natural building is the hands-on experimentation, close engagement with the material and use of locally available resources – one that can be harnessed for building sustainable eco-friendly architectural designs. “It is the innate familiarity of the natural elements and the freedom to mould it into any design is what makes the process special” muses Stanzin Phuntsog, a self-taught eco-architect from Ayee village (Nubra, Ladakh).  Phuntsog was a curious child and has always been fascinated by the natural world around him; the gigantic mountains, the glaciers sustaining village life, natural ways of farming and the wealth of indigenous knowledge people in rural communities possess.

He was particularly captivated by natural ways of building, the traditional architectural designs and their intricate details. “In Ladakh, everyone has some basic understanding of building structures and I was fascinated by those structures. The knowledge also sowed a desire within me to build something on my own ” he reminisces.  He discovered his own love for architecture and natural material by observing communal mud house building activities in his hometown. With  unconventional views on ‘education’ Phuntsog is a staunch believer of experiential learning. He believes as much learning happens outside four walls of the classroom than by immersing oneself in daily realities. “One can read how plants develop their branches, roots; soil develops their fertility; mountains develop glaciers from a textbook or actually be in the natural world around you and observe and learn first-hand”.  His passion for immersive learning was further fuelled when he explored alternative learning in the Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh (SECMOL, Ladakh) after deliberately walking out of the conventional school system.

Cob Car Cottage (Leh, Ladakh)

He then enrolled in a 2 year’s course at Swaraj University (Udaipur, Rajasthan) where he received hands-on training in architecture, self-designing, ecological sustainability and exposure to green entrepreneurship. The innate zeal for experiential learning also probably led to pursue his interests in sustainable architectural design and later start his venture Earth Building with Samyuktha whom he met at Swaraj. The venture focuses on reviving natural ways of construction which is aesthetic, functional and thermally comfortable. “We endeavour to do that by reclaiming indigenous knowledge and valuing vernacular architectural designs.” They have explored many earthen techniques like cob (soil mixed with clay and dry grasses), earthbag dome, adobe (dried mud bricks), stone masonry, rammed earth, lime clay plasters and traditional Ladakhi roofing. “The key is to use resources locally available to you and experiment with it. There’s less carbon footprint and one can focus on energy efficiency” he continues.

“To us, natural building is a process which connects people and brings in the confidence that everyone can build their own homes”. Growing up in a close-knitted community in Spiti and having seen my relatives build their own homes drew me to Phuntsog’s initiative. It is precisely that soulful building process, the collective sense of community and the sense of belongingness one feels while building a house makes it endearing. Many houses in high Himalayan landscapes are built that way and communal labour plays an intrinsic role. Phuntsog gained practical knowledge around sustainable architecture by exploring different places and by observing local architectural designs – the kind of soil available in that particular region, the stones they are using and the kind of roofing suited for that place.

L to R: Cob Based Interior, (Maharashtra) and Adobe House - (Pollachi, Tamil Nadu)

He is also keen on passing his learning and engaging more people in reviving sustainable practice around architectural designs. With Earth Building, he has found that balance where he engages interested people and volunteers to learn about eco-friendly building techniques and explore natural elements through community building processes. Phuntsog has a craftsman-like approach to architecture and has an instinctual understanding of handling natural material. He also gives training on stone masonry and traditional architectural design implementation.

From building an Earthbag dome house and Adobe farmhouse in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu to cob based interior designing in Talavali, Maharashtra to cob car cottage in Leh, Ladakh, his work shows sensitivity towards regional variations and practicality of weather conditions to sustain those structures. In Leh, he built a unique low-cost cottage entirely with local resources and recycled materials like wood, glass, tyres, bottles and discarded Mahindra car body. They used cob based technique by mixing clay, sand, dried grasses with cow dung clay finishing. Phuntsog’s work is grounded in nature as his ideals and his work unites architecture with indigenous knowledge and conservation.

1128 748 Stanzin Phuntsog
Navigating the challenges of climate change in the Himalaya
Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Navigating the challenges of climate change in the Himalaya

Himkatha

The heart of the mighty Himalaya is witnessing a profound transformation shaped by the relentless force of climate change. With Himalaya playing a crucial role in shaping the weather patterns across India, climate change is disrupting these patterns. And the Western Himalaya Region comprising of Jammu & Kashmir, Ladakh, Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand characterised by complex geography with various local warm and cold zones is affected differently from one location to another.

Climate change refers to long-term shifts in weather patterns that affect local, regional, and global climates on earth. Most of us are familiar with greenhouses that are commonly used to grow vegetables in winter, because the temperature inside these enclosures stays warmer than outside. A greenhouse keeps the enclosure warm by letting in as much light as possible and then trapping it as thermal energy. Now imagine what might happen if our planet acted similarly? In fact, it is because the earth works like a large greenhouse, that our planet can support such a wide variety of life. This phenomenon is called the greenhouse effect. However, a rapid rise in burning of fossil fuels over the last 150 years has significantly increased the level of carbon dioxide in our atmosphere leading to increased warming and a rise in unforeseen weather events.

Research findings paint a stark picture of the Himalaya’s changing climate. Over the years the region has witnessed a noticeable rise in both seasonal maximum and minimum temperatures. The difference between daytime and night-time temperatures is also getting larger, indicating a warming trend. Snowfall events have shown variability in terms of intensity and timing. Scientists note a decrease in early snowfall during December and January, accompanied by an extension into February and March. While rainfall intensity remains relatively unchanged, there is a notable shift in its timings. Monsoon rains, once confined up to mid-August, now linger beyond their traditional timeframe, accompanied by a rise in cloudburst events. This shift, intertwined with delayed snowfall, alters the distribution of rainfall and cloud cover across the region.

The impact of this climatic transformation is not an abstract concept but a harsh reality affecting various sectors. Agriculture, the lifeline of many in the region, is particularly vulnerable. In the Kullu valley of Himachal Pradesh, delayed snowfall has cast its icy shadow on apple orchards. The blossoming, bearing, and overall yield of apples have suffered due to altered chilling conditions. Orchards, once thriving in lower elevations, now seek refuge in higher altitudes, affecting not just the geographical landscape but the very quality of the produce.

In Ladakh’s western regions, horticulture crops like apricots and walnuts are facing severe challenges. Spring seasons are turning cooler, delaying the fruiting process and impacting the quality of the produce. Barley, a locally grown crop, is witnessing a substantial reduction in yield, echoing the broader struggle against a changing climate.

Villagers in Spiti tell a poignant tale of declining green pea production, a crucial revenue-generating crop. This decline, attributed to persistent water scarcity, reached its peak in 2022 when Langza village faced complete crop loss due to the unavailability of water. The transformation is not confined to the fields; it seeps into the very identity of these regions.

Agriculture in Uttarakhand, highly vulnerable to climate change, experiences shift in production dynamics, causing changes in crop yield, reduced diversity, and a surge in pest invasions. In districts like Pithoragarh, Chamoli, and Uttarkashi, climate change is altering the traditional collection period of non-timber forest products, impacting livelihoods.

An aerial view of flood-ravaged Rudraprayag, in Uttarakhand | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

The farmers, the custodians of the land, echo this change.

Earlier, we could not see stars in the sky for the whole of July and August. Continuous rains for days during the monsoon season in old times was good for the soil and the crops. But now, sudden and untimely torrential rains are spoiling the soil as well as the crops. The rains have completely disappointed us.

by a farmer from Uttarakhand

Summers are more intense and drier now because of which the crops ripen at an early stage without proper grain development.

by an elderly farmer from Uttarakhand

Earlier the snow was about a foot high and it used to stay for weeks but now if ever there is snowfall it is less than 5 inches and melts within a day.

by a farmer from Himachal Pradesh

Every year, we travelled from Zanskar to Kishtwar by crossing the glacier. Over the years, this glacier has been reducing. The new snowfall is not sufficient for settling, posing challenges to our traditional migration routes.

by a pastoralist from Ladakh

This replacement about 50-60 years ago, which turned agri-culture on its head did not come with the Green Revolution (more appropriately called Greed Revolution) then but was the consequence of what had emerged as the industrial revolution two-three hundred years ago. And it started with de-legitimising traditional society’s existence, identity and knowledge by naming it ‘backward’ and following it up by seeking to shame people’s knowledge systems and their seeds. It was crucial and strategic that this society begin to have an inferiority complex about oneself. This was the first essential stage of the conspiracy. Once this was achieved, it was followed by a systematic replacement of the principles, methods, seeds with the means that it had created. As a result, a creative, productive and self-reliant society has today become a dependent slave farmer society.

3000 2000 Ajay Bijoor
Dhankar: From ancient towards modernity
Dhankar, the village on the cliff | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Dhankar: From ancient towards modernity

Himkatha

Dhankar is a historical village of Spiti which used to be its capital in ancient times. Where the Namgyal dynasty of Ladakh ruled for centuries. Due to the great distance between Ladakh and Spiti, feudal lords were appointed in Spiti and given the title of Nono. The Nono managed administration of Spiti by appointing people to collect taxes and manage other village-level works. Dhankar witnessed many attacks and looting by external forces.  Even today, one can see signs of these attacks on the walls and pillars of the old palace. After independence, Spiti was first administered by the Punjab government and was subsequently merged into the new State of Himachal Pradesh when it was created.

Farming is the chief source of income in Dhankar. The importance of farming can be seen clearly in many of our festivals and rituals. Namkan is a festival celebrated in the seventh and eighth month of the year in which villagers pray for a good harvest. On that day, people ride horses and throw stones at a fake sheep made of ghee and the winner is given a prize. The crop is harvested a few days after this festival. In our village, agriculture depends on water from the lake above the village. However, the lack of snowfall in winter is affecting our water supply from the lake. The water level has fallen by nearly 50% in the past 20-25 years because of which villagers face a lot of problems with farming. While yak and churu (a yak-cow hybrid) were used to plough fields, they have mostly been replaced by various farm equipment. Power tillers are used to plough the fields, while machines are used to chop crop residue. Earlier the local crops included wheat, barley and mustard. Today’s crops include pulses, peas, cauliflower, and potato. Horticulture is also being adopted widely as it is helping increase farm incomes. In addition to this, people have multiple options to earn a livelihood. One can earn a respectable amount running homestays and hotels, driving a taxi or working as tourist guides. But despite all these changes, farming remains the primary source of income for the people of Dhankar. And the future of farming depends on our sources of water, which are fast disappearing.

6000 3083 Tenzin Ganden
Microbial intervention in Himalayan Dry Toilets
Distribution of Compost Booster in Lahaul

Microbial intervention in Himalayan Dry Toilets

Himkatha

As we meandered through the narrow streets of Ribling, Tandi, Sumnam and Ghoshal villages in Himachal Pradesh’s Lahaul district, we saw the indelible change of modernisation that had reached even the remotest corners of India. The cemented pavement had replaced the old mountain roads and the concrete houses were replacing the traditional wood and mud houses. In this new emerging transformation, small two-storey mud-houses outside people’s houses stood as a mysterious testament to the old ways.

In 2017, we stayed at the Center for High Altitude Biology (CeHAB)’s research centre at Ribling in Lahaul and it was during those field expeditions to the cold deserts in the Western Himalayas that I first came across the concept of ‘dry toilets’.  Just as we were getting increasingly inquisitive about these small mud structures, we ran into Mr. Jagdeep Katoch, one of the residents and a former school principal in the village. He patiently explained to us that these structures are called ‘ghop’ – traditional dry toilets used  by communities in the cold arid zones like Lahaul, Spiti and Ladakh  to uniquely manage human waste in the region.

Traditional Ghop in Lahaul

These two-tiered structures have an upper section, which is attached to the living room of the house; and the lower section where night soils are collected. After every use, a dry mixture of wood chips and ash locally called ‘fot’ is used to cover the faeces. The heap of the night soil is manually taken out every 6 months and left in the fields to mature. Thus, the compost is rich in nutrients and is a very useful input for agriculture in the region.

These regions also receive very less precipitation throughout the year making water availability extremely difficult and that’s why it was intriguing to observe how people in these remote villages sustainably manage human-waste that’s beneficial for their agro-ecosystem. In the Himalayan cold desert, these dry toilets (ghop) help conserve water during freezing winter and sustain organic farming with manure supply. When winter sets in, people increasingly depend on dry toilets, and later in the year, this decomposed night soil is used as manure for farms.

For generations, locals have relied on naturally-occurring bacteria to degrade the wastes. However, the practice comes with several disadvantages as due to extreme cold weather conditions, there are very few microbes that can function at such low temperatures.  As a result, the quality of the compost is not as good as one would expect.

Additionally, the influx of tourism and introduction of modern septic systems has brought change in the regional sanitation practices with more people resorting to pour-flush toilets. This has not only brought tremendous change in age-old practice of using dry toilets, night soil composting, but has also put the availability of water under severe stress in already resource strained places. Dr. Sanjay Kumar,  (Director, CSIR-IHBT, Palampur ) Chief Scientist and an ardent advocate of bio resource has always inspired us to ground our work, research around social issues and due to his guidance and support , we found the best opportunity to address the issue of solid waste management in high Himalayan regions by scientifically intervening and facilitating faster degradation of the night soil through Compost Booster- a microbial formulation for rapid degradation of night soil to manage human waste in cold desert areas.

Distribution of Compost Booster in Lahaul

The decomposition of any organic biomass is dependent on its microbial population.In Lahaul-Spiti, due to prolonged winters with sub-zero temperatures the decomposition of night soil is often slow as the first phase of composting- the mesophilic bacteria phase- crucial for decaying the organic material are inactive in this temperature range. At CSIR-IHBT, Palampur, our team at High Altitude Microbiology lab, Department of Biotechnology, formulated an indigenous bacterial consortium from the night soil compost’s different maturity phases. These cold- tolerant bacterial populations remain active even at such low temperatures up to four degree Celsius and produce enzymes that speed up the process of biomass degradation. The bacteria used for this purpose also have plant growth promoting attributes so that the end product is enriched compost high in nutrients and possess plant growth promoting bacteria.The financial aid from National Mission on Himalayan Studies (NMHS) by the Ministry of Environment, Forest & Climate Change (MoEF&CC) were crucial to enable key research on ground.

The sample of compost boosters were distributed among a few households in Lahaul for trial in 2018. We asked the villagers to use a handful of the sample in place of fot and the feedback was quite motivating. They observed that the mixture helped degrade the night soil better and reduces the odour as well. Mr. Devi Singh of Mooling village keenly shares that  earlier he used to collect 20 “Kiltas” (baskets)  to collect the degraded night soil compost but after the using the Compost Booster, the biomass was degraded so well that he collected only 10 Kiltas which is of much better compost quality and there’s reduction in foul smell too.

With increased demand and product popularity, we conducted awareness drives, interaction sessions and training programmes across five gram-panchayats  in Lahaul and Compost boosters were distributed to approximately 160 households in December 2020 and January 2021. In future, we endeavour to reach out to communities across the high himalayan landscape including Spiti and Ladakh for similar intervention.

Contact for queries:
Rakshak Kumar
Scientist & Asst. Professor (AcSIR),
High Altitude Microbiology Laboratory (HAM-LAB), Department of Biotechnology, CSIR-Institute of Himalayan Bioresource Technology, Palampur-176061 (HP)
Tel: +91 1894 233339, ext. 441
Mobile: +91 98829 86355
E mail: rakshak@ihbt.res.in/ rakshakacharya@gmail.com 

2560 1153 Dr. Rakshak Kumar
Spiti Valley Architecture
Antique home in Mane village, Spiti | Photo: Kimberly Moyle

Spiti Valley Architecture

Himkatha

Spiti valley’s villages are home to a relatively intact vernacular architectural tradition. Rammed earth Tibetan-style architecture dots the awe-inspiring landscape through a series of scattered settlements. The intelligent bio-climatic design has enabled the local people to inhabit this harsh landscape for thousands of years. Surrounded by snow capped peaks on all sides with the Spiti river meandering along the wide river valley, the region has gained a reputation for stunning scenery and is now a popular tourist destination. The influx of tourism however is bringing rapid changes both economically and culturally. Economic development is welcomed, however, the loss of precious cultural heritage through the destruction of traditional architecture is of concern.

The traditional architecture of the region evolved to make use of abundantly available resources for construction along with an in-depth understanding of their thermal properties. Materials were combined with intelligent design to ensure the creation of living spaces that provided optimum thermal comfort to residents throughout the changing seasons. All of which required a thorough understanding of the natural world around them. The shift towards modern industrial systems of construction can be seen as a rupturing of that direct connection with nature. Construction materials are now purchased from stores and sourced from distant lands. The knowledge on how to use them is sought from architects and engineers. The traditional wisdom of elder Master Artisans is on the brink of being lost as people transition to the industrial system. Now is the time to reflect and consider whether it is the right path.

Architecture is an expression of culture and in Spiti Valley, it reflects Spitian culture whilst identifying their inclusion in a much larger Tibetan ethnic community scattered across the Trans Himalayas in the region now known as India and Tibet. Historically, however, for almost 900 years they were connected as part of the great Tibetan Kingdom of Guge.

Materials & Construction Methods

Spiti Valley is classified as a hyper-arid desert wherein precipitation is predominantly received as snowfall in the winter. Trees are scarce and as a consequence timber is used sparingly in construction. Stone and soil are found in varying abundance and are employed using different construction techniques according to their prevalence in a specific location. In the lower Spiti Valley, in Nako village, stones are prolific, and timber is more accessible from the forests of nearby Kinnaur. Here homes are typically made of stone masonry with mud mortar and often incorporate ornate timber balconies or sunrooms. In the villages of the upper regions of the valley such as those in and around Kaza rammed earth is dominant and the use of timber is much more frugal. Pin Valley experiences higher levels of snowfall and as such their homes feature dry stone masonry on the ground level. To prevent damage to the home from snow melt. The arid desert climate in combination with scarce timber availability has resulted in the use of flat mud roofs across the entire region. Rammed earth as a construction method requires very little water compared to other earthen construction techniques such as adobe or cob, It is no coincidence that this is the favored technique in this desert region. The use of adobe for the building fabric can also be seen, though infrequent as it is recognized as being more labor-intensive.

View of a narrow alley in Nako, Kinnaur | Photo by Kimberly Moyle

Seasonal Migration Indoors

Typically homes are large and spread over multiple levels. Seasonal migration within the home occurs as an adaptation to the extreme climatic variation experienced between summer (+30°C) and winter (-30°C). In the summer months, families inhabit the upstairs portion of their homes. Larger windows on this level allow for the penetration of the bright summer sun and views of the fields outside. A large room known as a Makang (summer room) is the summer socializing space where cooking and entertaining take place side by side.  Ceilings are typically higher and families may have separate rooms for sleeping.

In the winter the entire family migrates downstairs to one room known as the Yokang (winter room). For the entire winter period, the family will sleep, socialize, cook, and eat together in this one room. Cooking and heating occur simultaneously on a Tandoor that takes center place in the room.  Efficient use of scarce timber resources for heating is essential and this practice has evolved in response. Cohousing with animals in adjacent rooms is another design aspect that takes advantage of the natural warmth produced by the animals, generating warmth inside the house whilst at the same time providing shelter and protection for the animals from the extreme climate outdoors.

Bio-Climatic Design

The need to survive the harsh winters in this remote location has seen the evolution of a highly intelligent system of bio-climatic design. Traditional homes have been constructed with a deep understanding of the regional climate as well as the specific site conditions. Certain design elements can be seen replicated in homes throughout the entire valley. Where possible homes are located on hillsides with a south-to-southwest facing orientation in order to take advantage of passive solar gains. Winter rooms have lower ceilings to ensure the precious heat generated remains close to the inhabitants. In the oldest of homes, winter rooms do not have any windows, instead, they would have a single ventilation point in the ceiling through which both light and smoke would enter and exit respectively. In more modern homes small windows are common. The northern aspect generally receives cold winds, as such openings on this wall are avoided. Wall thickness is generally between 18 and 24 inches. The thick thermal mass provides a thermal lag preventing the extreme cold from being transmitted inside the home.

Traditional house in Spiti Valley | Photo by Kimberly Moyle

Case Study of a 150-year-old Home in Kwang Village, Spiti

Located in Kwang village on the southern bank of the Spiti river directly opposite the main town of Kaza Sonam Tashi’s ancestral home provides an excellent example of intelligent bio-climatic design. The following case study will be used to demonstrate key elements incorporated to ensure the highest level of thermal comfort for the occupants.

The Yokang is located in the center of the ground floor and is insulated from the extreme cold outdoors on all four sides by a series of rooms. On the northern side is the Thaah, a cavity of a few meters occupying the full height of the home. This is utilized as storage for fodder such as dry grass and crop residue. Serving the dual purpose of feeding the livestock through the winter whilst also providing excellent insulation to the Yokang. The western side of the house was used for housing livestock during the winter. Strategically chosen according to the westerly sun trajectory, providing warmth for the animals, in turn, the warmth generated by the animals provides yet another layer of insulation to the inner Yokang.

The main entrance and stairwell to the first floor are housed on the southern side as is the Chak-sa the traditional dry toilet system, with the catchment on the ground floor in a sealed room accessible only from the exterior of the house. The eastern side incorporates a small room for making aarak – the local alcohol made from barley, next to which is a granary room accessed only from a hole in the first floor above, it is utilized for storing barley grains. To the south of that lies another small room used as a nursery for young livestock. Being surrounded on all sides the central Yokang does not have any windows to the outside. The only ventilation comes from a single hole in the center of the

ceiling used for both daylighting and ventilation for the tandoor. Before the introduction of modern time keeping devices, the beam of light projected through the ventilation shaft was also used to tell the time. Limited ventilation to the exterior ensures the least amount of heat loss.

The first floor is home to the Makang and the Zot (store room).  Both of these rooms are located on the western side. The zot on the northwestern corner is traditionally used for storage and the Makang on the southwestern side as a summer living room and kitchen. The area directly outside the southwest room was also used as a kitchen with a cavity for storing dried animal manure, a precious fuel source for cooking and heating along with timber. The dry toilet room is located on the southeast corner of the house. On the eastern side running between the fodder storage and the Chak- sa (dry toilet) is the Kanmo, a covered sitting area with the western side fully open to the uncovered central courtyard. This space was often used for recreation, to enjoy the warm summer sun, for drying grains, and for sleeping outdoors on warm summer nights.

Development & Change

Despite having such a sophisticated and rich architectural heritage there is currently a mad rush for modernity that is taking place in Kaza the main town in Spiti. A reinforced cement concrete (RCC) home is viewed as a sign of social mobility, and cement plasters are a fashion trend. The last five years have seen significant change throughout the valley. The tourism sector is booming. So is the construction industry as people race to take advantage of the short but hectic summer season that at its peak struggles to cater to all of the tourists passing through. In Kaza the main town, traditional earthen homes are being torn down and replaced with multistoried RCC buildings. Pride in traditional architecture is being lost as some desire to show their success and social mobility through their capacity to build a modern ‘Pukka’ Ghar or Hotel just like those in the cities.

Most people are all too aware of the unsuitability of RCC structures to the extreme cold. This has led many to a hybrid system with an RCC frame and mud block infill. However, the durability of RCC under extreme climate is questionable. Already cracking and powdering of cement are visible on areas exposed to freeze and thaw cycles of snowmelt. This leads to the question: what if this grand experiment with cement fails? Where will all of that waste material go in this pristine, yet fragile mountain landscape? One of the most astounding aspects of traditional architecture in Spiti is its recyclable and biodegradable nature. It is normal for an old house to be torn down only for all of the materials to be reused once again in the new house. Rammed earth is considered to be even stronger the second time around. In the dry climate of Spiti even Tillu  (timber beams ) and Thap, the shrubs used in the flat mud roofs remain in good condition even after 60+ years of use, and may be reused in the new build. Even if they can’t be they offer a good source of fuel for the fire. Nothing is wasted.

Sustainable construction with a low ecological footprint was mastered by the people of Spiti centuries ago. The world has a lot to learn from them. Sadly, as the younger generation moves towards industrial materials and hybrid systems the traditional wisdom honed over centuries and handed down over generations is at risk of being lost. Now is the time to learn from the experienced elders and ensure this precious intangible cultural heritage remains alive and not just a pretty picture captured in vintage photos of a time long ago.

RCC based construction in Spiti | Photo by Kimberly Moyle

References
Auer, C.E., 2017. Measure for measure: Researching and documenting early Buddhist architecture in Spiti. Revue d’Etudes Tibétaines, 41, pp.181-201.
Joshi, P., Phartiyal, B., & Joshi, M. (2021). Hydro-climatic variability during last five thousand years and its impact on human colonization and cultural transition in Ladakh sector, India. Quaternary International, 599, 45–54. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quaint.2020.09.053.
Sharief, A. et al. (2022) “Landscape use and co-occurrence pattern of snow leopard (Pantherauncia) and its prey species in the fragile ecosystem of Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh,” PLOS ONE, 17(7). Available at: https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.027155

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