Ladakh

Food of the mountains: Stinging nettle (Zatsod)

Food of the mountains: Stinging nettle (Zatsod)

Himkatha

People of the high mountains have traditionally gathered plants and herbs from the wild, which would then be carefully stored and consumed in winter. Most of this collection is for personal use and never for commercial purposes. In this story, Karma Sonam of Gya village of Ladakh tells us about the traditional technique for collection and storage of zatsod or stinging nettle. He also shares a recipe of zatsod thukpa.

ऊंचे पहाड़ों के समुदाय पारंपरिक रूप से जंगली पौधों और जड़ी-बूटियों की तलाश करते हैं, जिन्हें बाद में सावधानीपूर्वक संग्रहीत किया जाता है और सर्दियों में खाया जाता है। इस संग्रह का अधिकांश भाग व्यक्तिगत उपयोग के लिए था, न कि व्यावसायिक उद्देश्यों के लिए। इस कहानी में, लद्दाख के ग्या गाँव से कर्मा सोनम हमें बिच्छू बूटी के संग्रह की तकनीक के बारे में बताते हैं। वह स्थानीय सामग्रियों का उपयोग करके बनाई गई थुकपा की एक पारंपरिक रेसिपी भी साझा करते हैं।

This story was narrated, shot and edited by Karma Sonam.

यह कहानी कर्मा सोनम द्वारा सुनाई, शूट और संपादित की गई है।

1718 1052 Himkatha
The Sowa-Rigpa medicine system

The Sowa-Rigpa medicine system

Himkatha

In this episode of Himkatha Charcha, we spoke with Amchi Chhering Tashi of Hansa village in Spiti about the Sowa Rigpa medicine system which is being practiced in his family for at least four generations. We tried to center our conversation on the origin of this system and the deep knowledge it preserves about local plants. Amchi Chhering Tashi was interviewed by Dr. Mayank Kohli and Tanzin Thinley. Additional footage via. Open Planet (https://openplanet.org/)

हिमकथा चर्चा के इस एपिसोड में हमने स्पीति के हंसा गांव के अमची छेरिंग ताशी से सोवा रिग्पा चिकित्सा प्रणाली के बारे में बात की, जो उनके परिवार में कम से कम चार पीढ़ियों से चली आ रही है। हमने अपनी बातचीत को इस प्रणाली की उत्पत्ति और स्थानीय पौधों के बारे में इसके द्वारा संरक्षित गहन ज्ञान पर केंद्रित करने का प्रयास किया। अमची छेरिंग ताशी का इंटरव्यू डॉ. मयंक कोहली और तंजिन थिनले ने लिया। अतिरिक्त फुटेज ओपन प्लैनेट (https://openplanet.org/) के माध्यम से।

1200 668 Dr. Mayank Kohli
The Sowa-Rigpa medical tradition
Illustration: Peeyush Sekhsaria

The Sowa-Rigpa medical tradition

Himkatha

Sowa-Rigpa, also known as the Amchi system of medicine, is practiced in the high Himalayan region. It is also referred to as the Tibetan medicine system and is among the oldest existing knowledge systems in the world that relies on knowledge of ecology, especially plants. In an hour-long conversation with 71-year-old Amchi Chhering Tashi of Hansa village in Spiti we speak about the Sowa-Rigpa tradition. Here is a short excerpt of this interview.

Can you speak about the origins of the Sowa-Rigpa medical tradition?

Contrary to popular belief, Sowa-Rigpa is an ancient Indian knowledge system, not Tibetan. It is believed that when the Buddha gave his sermon on ending suffering at Vaishali in present day Bihar, there were many in attendance. The audience included many learned people including spiritual and celestial beings from different realms. Buddha delivered the discourse in Pali, but all those in attendance heard his message in their respective languages. Since everyone heard it differently, it got recorded and disseminated in different ways – as Ayurveda across the Indian subcontinent, Sowa-Rigpa across the Himalayas and Tibet, and Yunani in Central Asia. That is how this knowledge spread across different cultures. It was later translated into Sanskrit at Nalanda. A part of this knowledge system was at risk of being lost due to the predominance of Ayurveda, but was preserved by the Tibetans. So, while Sowa-Rigpa originated in India, it was preserved and nurtured in Tibet. Lotsawa Rinchen Zangpo – the Great Translator of Buddhism – translated these works to the local Bhoti dialect in his sixth incarnation.

Since when has this system been practiced in your family? 

Every village in Spiti – from Losar to Lari – has at least one family that practices this system. Villagers help with the collection of medicinal plants and in preparing medicines. Historically, each village had an Amchi because connectivity between villages was poor and this was an essential service that all villagers needed. No fees are charged by the Amchi; it is offered as a public service to anyone seeking medical attention.

About our family, my father was a very learned man. He knew exactly what treatment is described on which page in the handbook (pointing to the old medical scriptures placed before him). I never met my grandfather, but he might have passed on this knowledge to my father. While I don’t know how and when my forefathers began practicing, I have with me several old scribbled notes that belonged to them. My grandfather, in the 1930s, also received a letter from the then Governor of Punjab which I preserve to this day. Our family has been in this practice for at least a few hundred years.

Amchi's collecting parts of plant for medicinal purpose | Photo: Mayank Kohli

How did you get inducted into becoming an Amchi?

My father started training me since I was in sixth grade. I had to attend school, manage a lot of the house work and focus on this too. I was the only male child and my sisters were already married by then. I had little interest

in learning about plants and reading the handbook. But my father was very persistent. He taught me patiently. Maybe that is how I learnt whatever little I did. Had I taken interest from the beginning, I might have become a better Amchi.

One can learn everything about the practice in six years. But my father taught me daily and he inculcated in me a habit of reading these scriptures every day, even if it is only for just five minutes. These scriptures that I possess, are nearly 600-years old. Reading them daily has been very helpful.

What is the process of diagnosis and prescribing medication?

There are four fundamental books that form the basis of this practice, which need to be learnt by heart by any Amchi. Further there are four books explaining these fundamental principles in detail. Lastly, there are these scriptures (pointing to the old medical scripts placed before him) which are like a handbook. They explain the symptoms of every illness and contain details of its treatment and medication. We match the symptoms of every patient with the explanations in this handbook and follow its recommendation for prescribing treatment.

When a patient approaches me, I first check their pulse and sometimes their urine. I then match the description of the symptoms with those in the handbook. The handbook gives details of all the local plants and their medicinal values. It also suggests the proportion in which they should be mixed for a particular treatment. I always make all the medicines and test them on myself before I distribute them.

Any illness has two causes: first from accumulation of bad karma earned in one’s past lives, and second from an imbalance in what we consume (food, water, air etc.) from our general surroundings. An Amchi can cure illnesses caused by the latter; the former cannot be cured by medicine. While modern medicine addresses the symptoms of an illness, Sowa-Rigpa tries to address the root cause of it.

Amchi Chhering Tashi from Hansa village in Spiti | Photo: Tanzin Thinley

How and when are plants collected?

There is no fixed time for collection. We use different parts of a plant for treatment, and hence collection happens across seasons. We use the flowers of some plants, while we need seeds of some and roots of others. Generally, roots of a plant grow deep into the soil before autumn and that is when we collect roots, we will not collect them in any other season. Flowers will only be collected in spring once they have blossomed. There are clear rules on when and how different parts can be collected. A separate book describes locations of where plants can be found. For example, Aconitum spp. (Bhoan karpo) are mostly found on north-facing slopes and that is where we scout for them. Delphinium spp. (Lader mentok) is another invaluable plant that grows commonly in our landscape. Rhodiola spp. (Shrolo) is also found on north-facing slopes – there are three varieties found in Spiti: one with white flowers, one with red flowers, and one that grows tall. These details help us in collection.

The handbook also carries details of the medicinal values of these plants. For example, Rhodiola spp. cure lung infections while Aconitum spp. cure multiple ailments: flowers improve eyesight, their roots help our bones, the branches are good for our hands and legs while the stem of the plant is good for our skin. Meconopsis spp. (Landre mentok), Saussurea spp. (Kasturi kamal or Yuliang) and Trillium spp. (Nag chhatri) are mixed to make a very effective painkiller, even better than diclofenac sodium that is administered commonly. We are aware of all the medicinal qualities of many local plant species and we make use of them judiciously.

Is a change in climate patterns affecting the availability of medicinal plants? 

There was a time when collection of wild plants for commercial use was common. We had then spoken with the local administration to limit irresponsible collection. They acted swiftly and we are glad that the situation was handled effectively. We believe that Spiti produces sufficient plants to fulfil local needs. No matter how much medicine the people of Spiti consume, this land will produce plants and they will never exhaust. However, if we start exporting plants outside Spiti for commercial use, then we invite the risk of depleting this valuable resource. There is a finely balanced cycle of production and consumption, which we should not disturb. Variations in snowfall may marginally affect plant growth, but not so much as to disrupt this system.

What do you think about the sustenance of this practice in future?  

The practice is offered as a public service by the Amchi in each village. There is no financial benefit in the practice. In fact, we often incur expenses in the collection of plants and preparation of medicines. Our homes are always open to any patient seeking medical help.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Sometimes I wonder that one must be stupid to offer such a service free-of-cost at a time when everyone runs after money. But then, I also remember that when I die, I will leave everything behind: land, family, even my own body. I will only be remembered for my integrity. That is what keeps me going. However, the local administration should consider providing basic financial support to practitioners so that they continue practicing this tradition.

This is a short excerpt and you can watch the full interview on our YouTube channel.

2241 1524 Dr. Mayank Kohli
Ladakh Pashmina

Ladakh Pashmina

Himkatha

The story of Ladakh Pashmina: The authentic, sustainable cashmere. A film by Munmun Dhalaria. (Language: English and Ladakhi with English subtitles)

2292 1072 Munmun Dhalaria
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
Unveiling an Enigmatic Jewel: Sea Buckthorn

Unveiling an Enigmatic Jewel: Sea Buckthorn

Himkatha

Nestled high amidst the majestic peaks of the Himalayas lies a hidden treasure, a rare and mystical berry known as sea buckthorn. Revered for its extraordinary nutritional profile and therapeutic properties, this vibrant orange jewel has captivated the hearts and taste buds of travellers and locals alike. Join me on a journey of discovery as we delve into the intriguing world of sea buckthorn, unearthing its rich history, cultural significance, and the myriad ways in which it contributes to sustainable living and a holistic lifestyle.

I came across the sea buckthorn berry around three years ago, when my friend and I were searching for a picnic spot in the hidden valleys of Spiti, Himachal Pradesh. We had heard about a beautiful flowing freshwater stream where we could bathe and cook food on woodfire. Our plan was to find this spot. My friend, Yangzom, and I ended up hiking for about 1.5-2 hours and on the way stumbled across thorny shrubs that kept pricking our legs and lower body. We got extremely annoyed and cursed the shrubs since they were growing along the entire stretch. When we looked closely, we saw that they had small orange-yellow berries. At first, we were hesitant to try them, but when we did, they tasted tangy (a citrusy burst of flavour). We plucked many for our way back home. It was very difficult to even try plucking them due to the thorny branches. We managed to bring some back and when we inquired about them with a local, we learnt that these were sea buckthorn berries and they had superfood properties. This was the same berry being sold at the Himalayan cafes and homestays in the form of teas, juices and jams.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

The human consumption of sea buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoides) dates back thousands of years. Revered in traditional Tibetan and ayurvedic medicine, it has been treasured for its remarkable healing properties. Growing abundantly in the Himalayan region, sea buckthorn is an integral part of the local culture, where it is known by various names such as tirhuk and lehtar. The berry is known to be a nutritional powerhouse.  They are a potent source of vitamins, including vitamin C, E, and beta-carotene, which support a robust immune system and promote healthy skin. Rich in essential fatty acids, such as omega-3, -6, -7, and -9, sea buckthorn nourishes the body from within, benefiting cardiovascular health and aiding in the management of cholesterol levels.

In traditional medicine, sea buckthorn has been revered as a natural remedy for various ailments. Its oil, extracted from the berries, is highly sought-after for its potent antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties. This golden elixir is used topically to heal wounds, soothe sunburns, and combat the signs of aging. When ingested, sea buckthorn oil aids in digestion, reduces inflammation, and promotes healthy liver function.

Beyond its remarkable health benefits, sea buckthorn plays a crucial role in sustainable travel and environmental conservation. This hardy shrub thrives in high altitudes, growing in the harsh and barren landscape, and helping to prevent soil erosion. Its roots anchor the soil, while its branches create natural windbreaks, protecting delicate ecosystems. Harvesting sea buckthorn berries provides a supplementary income to local communities, encouraging the preservation of traditional Himalayan farming practices.

The tangy and slightly astringent flavour of sea buckthorn has found its way into the culinary world, captivating chefs and food enthusiasts alike. The berries are used to create delightful jams, syrups, and sauces, lending a burst of vibrant colour and a refreshing acidity to dishes. Sea buckthorn tea is cherished for its invigorating taste, while innovative mixologists are crafting enticing cocktails featuring this Himalayan gem.

Immerse yourself in the awe-inspiring beauty of the Himalayas as you embark on a journey to discover sea buckthorn in its natural habitat. Trek through breath-taking landscapes, where the shimmering orange berries cling to branches, contrasting against the snowy peaks. Engage with local communities and witness their time-honoured techniques of harvesting and processing sea buckthorn, gaining a deeper appreciation for their sustainable way of life. You don’t have to travel to the Himalayas to incorporate the benefits of sea buckthorn into your everyday life. Seek out products infused with sea buckthorn oil, such as skincare items and supplements, to harness its rejuvenating and immune-boosting properties. Experiment with sea buckthorn-infused recipes and drinks to add a nutritious twist to your culinary repertoire.

The enigmatic sea buckthorn, with its vibrant colour, remarkable health benefits, and deep cultural roots, is a true embodiment of sustainable travel and holistic lifestyle. Its presence in the Himalayas enriches the local communities and provides an opportunity for travellers to experience the wonders of this ancient berry. Let the allure of sea buckthorn ignite your curiosity and inspire you to explore the world, one sustainable and wellness-infused adventure at a time.

1545 2000 Sheetansh
Living at the Edge: Plants of High Himalayas
Ajania fruticulosa | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Living at the Edge: Plants of High Himalayas

Himkatha
Ajania fruticulosa | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Whenever we say Himalayas, we instantly picture majestic snow-covered peaks, rugged slopes, extreme weather conditions which are characterised by strong winds and a dry landscape. An old proverb says, ‘The land is so barren and passes so high that only the best of friends and fiercest of enemies would want to visit us.’ It is hard to imagine how such an environment can harbour any plant life. However, these mountains support a stunning array of plants adapted to survive at high altitudes and in harsh climates. These landscapes are marked by vast temperature differences, strong winds, high ultraviolet rays, a short-growing season, and rugged terrain of the high Himalayas.

One such high Himalayan region is Ladakh, situated in the western Himalayas, and is the crown of the Indian sub-continent. Relatively untouched and unexplored, Ladakh is a paradise for botanical exploration. Numerous researchers have attempted to study and record the diversity of plant species of this region. A staggering 1,250 varieties of vascular plants have been identified so far.

Acontholimon lycopodiodes | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Just as we humans have a circulation system that delivers oxygen to our cells and takes away waste, several plants have a highly developed built-in transport system for nutrients and water. Such plants are called vascular plants. Vascular plants in the high Himalayas have evolved specialised mechanisms that let them survive in extreme weather conditions.

Plants grow in a variety of habitats in the high Himalayas: arid steppe, severely dry semi-desert and desert, alpine grasslands and screes, riverbanks, and subnival, and wetlands.

Photo (Left to Right): Steppe habitat, Alpine Grassland

Steppes are characterised by hot and arid conditions. Plants growing in steppes are adapted to survive frequent droughts.

Alpine habitats are characterised by colder and moist conditions, comprising of grasslands and scree.

Subnival habitats occur just below the permanent snowline, and they are characterised by extreme cold and moist conditions. Temperature in such habitats may drop to sub-zero even during the summer months.

Semi-desert and desert are severely hot and dry habitats that comprise of sparse vegetation.

Riverbanks are patches adjoining streams and rivers composed of silts and sand that are held together by the plant growth.

Wetlands are characterised by the presence of excess water resulting from snowfall, melted glaciers or natural springs and lakes, that support plant growth.

Steppe and desert plants face frequent heat and drought stress due to low precipitation and dry conditions. Studies show that such plants have adapted to this stress by behaving like a drought escaper. They grow near streams where water is sufficient or develop drought enduring characteristics such as growing long and deep roots to absorb water.

Plants of the alpine and subnival zones face extreme cold stress which limits their ability to grow, restricting their growing period to a short span (usually 3-4 months). Plants in these zones adapt, remaining dwarfed or growing in cushion or mat-form. They grow close to the surface of the ground, where the temperature is relatively warmer.

Plants in high Himalayas are highly specialized and have remarkable adaptations to endure extreme conditions. They tend to have a massive belowground root system that stores the photosynthetic product (carbohydrates) for the prolonged winter months when they are devoid of the photosynthetic organs (leaves). Most of the plants in highest elevations do not grow high, as the temperature near the ground is warmer, and protect them from strong winds. Some also have a hairy-body (with trichomes), which protects them from the strong UV radiation, and act as extreme heat protectant.

Thylacospermum caespitosum

(Common name: Golden Alpine Sandwort; Local Ladakhi name: Tagaracan) grow as cushion plants, growing only at the highest evelations in subnival vegetation zone. They grow very tightly packed with each other, very close to the surface or sometimes even on boulders. This type of adaptation is to endure extreme cold conditions. Photo: Thinles Chondol

Aster flaccidus

(common name: Wild Aster; Local Ladakhi name: Nia-mentok) also grows just a few centimeters tall above the soil surface to prevent from cold. Also it has its leaves growing in a rosette form, which is another adaptation to prevent from cold stress.
Photo: Sam Diederichs

Saussurea gnaphalodes

(Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local Ladakhi name: Yuliang) have hair-like structures on its leaves and flowers, which is an adaptation to prevent from high solar radiations (Ultaviolet rays)
Photo by Thinles Chondol

Potentilla pamerica

It shows vast belowground roots compared to its aboveground growth. Photo: Thinles Chondol

Saussurea gnaphalodes

(Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local Ladakhi name: Yuliang) have hair-like structures on its leaves and flowers, which is an adaptation to prevent from high solar radiations (Ultaviolet rays)
Photo: Thinles Chondol

Some examples of typical plants from different habitats of Ladakh

Plants have a very small part of their structure – the stems, leaves, and flowers – exposed above ground. The relatively larger structures – mainly roots and root hairs grow below the ground.  Some plants have rhizomes: a rootlike, thick and usually horizontal underground that produces shoots above and roots below. The deep root system protects them from wind stress by providing anchorage, food storage, and water absorption.

These plants have a specialised architecture with a well-developed belowground system, where they store carbohydrates that help them survive long winters until the next growing season. The small aboveground shoot system helps them tolerate extreme cold. They even develop unique freeze tolerance by moving the water in their cells to the intercellular spaces. These plants tend to replace their organs in extreme conditions and keep their meristematic tissue, which is responsible for plant growth, near the soil surface so that growth can begin when the conditions become favourable again. This is because growing season at these high elevations usually span for only a few months, in which these plants must complete various annual processes such as growth, flowering, reproduction, and so on.

Root cross-section (30 microns) of Penstemon venustus | Photo: Wikimedia commons

Annual secondary growth rings in roots help study growth and determine the age of herbaceous plants. In years with unfavourable conditions this growth is affected leading to narrow rings, while in a growing season with favourable conditions rings growth is wider. This field of study is called herbchronology.

Due to the short growth season, they have slow metabolism, hence most plants here live for more than 2 years. They are very resource efficient and invest less energy in reproductive growth but more in vegetative growth. Many of these plants reproduce clonally, rather than investing in flowering and seed production.

Moreover, there are various other characteristics particular to the alpine plants that help them survive in harsh climatic conditions. These include variable photosynthesis rate, which is usually lowest in the early growing season and highest in the mid growing season. Plants in alpine zones also are hairy, usually with flowers surrounded with bracts. These hairs appear silver-grey or white appearance on the plant (Saussurea gnaphalodes – Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local name: Yuliang as shown in Box 4), that helps in reflecting the solar radiation, thus reducing the impact of hard sun rays and thermal security.

The Himalayan ecosystem is dynamic and the impact of climatic fluctuations due to global and local change is visible. These are being seen in terms of rising unpredictability in summer and winter precipitation, as well as changing minimum and maximum temperatures. Changes in the natural system impacts plants as their habitats shift or shrink. The growth rate of alpine plants is also impacted by climate fluctuations, which is seen in the form of annual secondary growth rings in their root collar, like we see rings in the woody species.

High Himalayan plants stand as awe-inspiring testaments to the resilience and adaptability of life in some of the most extreme environments on Earth. These unique floras have evolved over millennia to thrive in harsh alpine conditions, conquering freezing temperatures, thin air, and intense sunlight.

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The beautiful Siyah mentok
Flower of Rosa Webbiana | Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

The beautiful Siyah mentok

Himkatha

What is home, what is belongingness? For me, it is the uninhibiting mountains, the barren landscape, the deep gorges, and the high peaks of my homeland Spiti Valley in Himachal Pradesh. Also, it is the vast grazing ground, the piercing cold thin air, the green summer meadows, the ripe barley field, the meandering water canal and the delicate pink bloom of Siyah mentok.

Rosa Webbiana | Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

While growing up, I used to visit my grandmother and stay with her for months. She lived in a small hamlet in Spiti called Gowang which was home to just 5 households and had less than forty residents. My grandmother spent most of her day working in the barley field. Later in the evenings, before darkness of the night seeped in, we would both go out into the pastures to gather wild firewood. During one such visit to the pastures, right at the foothills of giant snow-capped mountains, I first witnessed the beauty of vibrant wildflowers and wild shrubs in an otherwise dry cold desert.

Spiti is a high-elevated region with an extremely arid landscape; characterized by equally sparse vegetation mainly comprising annual perennial herbs, shrubs, and very few varieties of trees (willow, poplars). Despite harsh ecological conditions, the landscape nurtures an incredible diversity of plant species – each unique and resilient in their own way. Pastures and hills are full of wildflowers and have rich repositories of aromatic, medicinal, and edible plants. There is the sour-tasting tirhuk (sea buckthorn) and lichu, the deep ruddy khamet (Ratan jot, Lal jari), the hardy thama (caragana), the healing chukku-gongma (rheum), the delicious kotsey, gyaman (wild herbs, seasonings) and the auspicious shukpa (juniper).

My grandmother would patiently show me how to pluck wild thorns, wild shrubs for firewood without pricking myself. I learnt how to gather tserma (dry caragana) and bursey (white dry woodchips) by observing her. At home, she would skilfully light a fire in our traditional heater (chak-thap) using dry twigs and cow dung and tenderly kindle the firewood to get a good hold before placing more wood logs on top of it. Having lived in a remote mountain village and spent so much time with my grandmother, I learnt to appreciate the wild plants around my home.

Siyah mentok truly deepens my connection to my homeland. Siyah (Rosa Webbiana/Webb’s Rose) is a beautiful variety of wild roses that grows in many Himalayan regions in extremely dry and harsh conditions. It is pink in colour with a mild sweet scent and tender petals that fall in your hands when you touch it. What I like about Siyah is that it is an extremely resilient plant that grows in the harshest conditions and can thrive without water for a long time. Siyah typically starts blooming in late spring or early summer, flowering for a short period of time. But during its brief blooming period, it illuminates the entire surrounding with its striking colour and radiant beauty. It is commonly found at lower elevations of Spiti and all the way up to above 4000m. It can be seen growing on the riverside, rocky slopes, mountainside, in the garden, and in the fields.

My grandmother’s illustration made by a close friend Apurva Pandhi

The blooming of Siyah is seen as the arrival of summer in Spiti. It is the epitome of beauty and serenity. It is particularly dear to me as under the bushy, dense canopy of this wild rose plant, my grandmother used to rest and take naps during hot summer days of the peak agricultural season. It is the same flower that she alludes to while describing the beauty of Tibetan queens in ancient folk stories and it is the sweetness of Siyah mentok and Serchen mentok (Himalayan golden flower) that she refers to while telling me about sweet melodies sung by nomads herding in the high mountains. It is difficult not to think about my childhood and my grandmother when I think about Siyah.

In many Himalayan communities, Siyah is highly valued for its ornamental qualities and it also features in old traditional songs, stories, proverbs, wise sayings, and other forms of oral cultural expressions. It is often associated with themes of love, romance, and beauty and is also referred to as a symbol of sacred devotion. I remember my grandmother telling me that during her early years in Spiti, if a man likens a women’s beauty to Siyah mentok or Serchen mentok through songs, it is considered a subtle declaration of love and the girl is to immediately discuss the matter with her family! The usage of Siyah in daily household has become quite popular especially, Siyah-cha (Siyah-tea) in higher, more remote villages like Hull, Hansa, Kibber, Demul and Lalung.  It is used ubiquitously by Spitian Amchis (traditional doctors) for its antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, and antiseptic properties. Medicinal plants are used by traditional doctors and healers for ages, particularly for curing skin ailments like boils, blisters, itching, and skin eruptions. For me, Siyah mentok is a symbol of beauty and resilience, reminding me that even in the harshest conditions, beauty and life can flourish.

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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.

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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.

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