Spiti

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
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
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.

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Pearls of wisdom from a master artisan
Grand monastic architecture of Spiti | Photo: Kesang Chunnit

Pearls of wisdom from a master artisan

Himkatha

Building with an earthen material is a craft, a philosophy where nature is at the center of the entire life cycle of a building. From its conception, sourcing, material usage, and construction till the inevitable end when the material returns to earth as compost, there’s a balance, harmonious unison with nature. The renewable nature of the natural material renders it environmentally more sensitive and less disruptive to the land and ecosystems around it. Lobzang Choephel also known as Lama Thamo ji the master artisan known throughout the Spiti valley for his expertise in rammed earth building and understanding of natural material feels that the journey of the natural building is rooted in the ethics of care. Being a skillful craftsman, he opines that care frames your relation with the land you are building on, the material used, the people/community you are building for, and their relation with nature.

Lama Thamo La in his younger days – an old photo from family album | Photo: Shared by Chhering Phuntsok

We rarely talk about intention and mindset when it comes to the trade of building but he thinks this is critical and is inevitably tied to the entire process of building. In Buddhism, there’s a huge emphasis on “kun-long sangpo”– having a righteous mind and kind motivation that dictates one’s action. Reflecting on the same, he quietly utters “When it comes to natural building, at the most primal level it means creating a human habitat that reflects brilliant functionality of natural material, inherently sustainable design, and one where care for the nature is there from which we draw so much”. In the daily experience of building, this reflects on being mindful, being responsible in places you excavate stones, dig soil, paying attention to the character of the material whether it is harmful or good for nature, and the overall approach you take in construction. With all the heavy lifting of stones, digging the ground, and building with mud, construction is physically very strenuous, and while construction, a lot of microorganisms get killed in the process. Therefore in ancient Spitian tradition, much like a farmer would recite prayers before plowing, the local artisans offer prayers before construction and express their remorse, their guilt for engaging in what is considered a sinful activity that harms other sentient being including microorganisms which are barely visible through our naked eyes. Tashi Monlam – prayers for the auspicious building process and fewer obstacles for the artisans, the laborers, and the host family are also recited. Another prayer earnestly seeks the blessings of local deities for a productive building experience and appeals to them for strength and diligence to undertake construction works. It can be aptly summarized as “May give us the strength to build this house as if built by god himself, May construction work be easy and fruitful”.

Grand monastic architecture of Spiti | Photo: Kesang Chunnit

Many indigenous building approaches and such unique cultural practices are rapidly getting substituted with more modern, industrial building techniques which are devoid of ethical essence and are proving more unsustainable. The natural environment sustains the life of all living beings and it is crucial to acknowledge the basic inter-connectedness and relation between humans and nature. In an age where haphazard development and construction activities are surging up, it is all the more important to evoke traditional wisdom and reflect on the significance of traditional materials, techniques, their implementation, and their relevance in contemporary building practice. Being a skillful natural builder for over 55 years and having spent a lifetime devoted to this trade, mindfulness is the guiding philosophy, and his learnings in Buddhist scriptures and meditation often drive his groundwork as an artisan, a builder, and a seasoned mason.

Traditional sacred religious designs Chorten | Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

There are so many ways to handcraft with natural material but one thing common across different geographies and contexts is the use of soil – the earth beneath our feet. No two sites have the exact composition of soil and as a builder, it is important to immerse oneself in these materials to gain experience, understand how to work with available soil in a given site, and be aware of the particular qualities, and limitations of soil that gives us scope for experimentation. For instance, deep yellow, orange, and red soil found in villages like Kaza is good for construction, especially for foundations whereas black and clayey soil found in higher villages like Demul, Chicham, and Komic is not good for foundations as it can cause dampness in the foundation. Hence understanding material adaptation is important otherwise it will be risky to build a structure without sufficient attention to detail.

“When I began construction, I worked closely with elder Spitian artisans to build and renovate many monastic structures – especially Dha-shak (monk’s residence), there was hardly any material available apart from the ones you get in your village sites. Even wood materials like willow, poplar, and timber were scarce so it was used judiciously for roofing structures, and most roof structures were made of smaller woods of shorter length which was mostly gathered from the village pastures”.

With accessibility, the struggle has lessened a lot but it has changed the architectural integrity of a place. The use of natural materials, responsible building methods, and the shared ethos of love and care for natural surroundings is fast disappearing and the preservation of traditional wisdom has become an urgent responsibility.

Traditional mud house | Photo: Kesang Chunnit
3000 2250 Lobsang Choephel and Chhering Phunchok
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.

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Memories, Nostalgia, and a Forgotten Practice
Kibber Village, Spiti | Photo: Nonie Rawat

Memories, Nostalgia, and a Forgotten Practice

Himkatha

Growing up in Spiti, a place so beautiful and serene was a heavenly experience with valleys and rivers that enchants anyone witnessing its beauty. It attracts visitors from all over the world, some first-timers, and some seasonal regulars, and leaves them with the same impressions. When one tries to capture its beauty – the mountain villages clustered with white-washed mud houses in the serrated landscape appear like a flock of sheep grazing on the fields.

A mud house in middle of Kaza market, Spiti | Photo: Nonie Rawat

The traditional architecture and the socio-cultural practices are the outcomes of the prevailing topography and climatic conditions giving Spiti its unique persona & originality. In the past couple of years, the wave of RCC-based structures has dominated several villages and have taken its malicious grip. It is due to the recent abrupt rise of tourism in the region and considering these changes, the place is likely to lose its essence and everything that’s worth treasuring. The massive plague of concrete structures has devastated the vernacular house designs with the built, form, size, and material totally devoid of its regional context.

The picturesque villages dotted with traditional mudhouses are slowly turning into a jungle of massive concrete structures. It’s mostly hotels, guesthouses, and other commercial buildings. One of the reasons for this shift is to accommodate the heavy-flowing tourists with modern facilities in a cold desert. Spiti being a rural area doesn’t have the preparation required to handle this heavy flux of tourism and the burden is too sudden and heavy for the locals  to administer. The unregulated flow of heavy tourists can have many adverse effects on the local ecology and architecture. It will influence changes in the land use, will cause urbanization, large-scale construction of tourist facilities, illegal constructions, changes in the vernacular design orientation, increased waste pollution, and degradation of local aesthetics which are attuned to its natural surroundings. We need to realize collectively that it’s the architectural authenticity and unique cultural practices of the place that leaves mark on people visiting the place.

Many aspects of modernization are creeping up in the valley – some truly meaningful like building bridges that connect remote villages but others monstrous like encroachment of animal habitat and village pastureland. The abandonment of dry toilets (chaksa) to adopt

modern flush toilets in a water-scarce place like Spiti.  The dry toilet not only saves water but also produces manure for the crops. Whereas the western toilet system is not the most conducive design intervention in the valley as it remains out of order for about 6 months, and the water pipes freeze during winter. In this wave of development, Spiti is losing its authenticity. The constructions are now spreading to agricultural lands as more families find it easier to earn a livelihood from tourism than farming. The old houses have thoughtful architectural designs like having low ceilings of about 100mm, which helps conserve heat. The ground floor and the first floor both have rooms for seasonal activities. The ground floor is specifically built keeping the freezing winters in mind. The floor is divided into spaces for both livestock and the family. There are additional rooms to store grains, fodders, and a Chingbuk – a celler for storing Chang and Aarak (barley based alcoholic beverages).  There’s also a tiny opening for ventilation and heat obtained from the animals, and the grain and grass storing places work as insulators that keep the house warm and cozy during winters. During summer the first floor is preferable due to proper lighting and ventilation. This floor is breezier and has more room to attend to the summer guests. These rooms will be properly ventilated and have big wide windows, with the peripheral frames painted black, absorbing and allowing maximum sun.

New constructions in Kaza | Photo: Tanvi Dutt

A typical traditional mud house in Spiti has a basic stone foundation running all along with the boundary wall. The locals use wooden planks as mould which supports the foot and a mixture of hay and mud to make the walls. The process is continued and the wall is built layer by layer at a time, leaving voids as per the requirements. The insulated roof starts with placing the main girder mugdungh, which is often supported using a wooden column kaa, this column, in the center of the room, also serves as the aesthetic feature of the room. Then the secondary girder, phurdungh, is placed on top of which, tightly knitted willow sticks, dhilu, are laid. The flat roof is finished with laying a thick layer of mud. To protect the edges of the mud structure from rain and snow some houses have bundled-up bushes stacked at the periphery of the roof along thorny bushes, dhama. The natives used to build with what was available to them and best suited the regional climate. This is what shelter means, building something suitable for you according to the climate and availability of the resource, hence the vernacular architecture of a place merges with the context, the landscape.

A dilapidated building in Kaza | Photo: Tanvi Dutt

The traditional method of construction is not practiced these days therefore the skill is endangered. The thousand years old monasteries in the villages of Spiti were made of mud block-forming walls up to a meter thick. All these monasteries are still surviving and functional, they are likely to survive another 10-20 decades, even more, if maintained professionally. The maintenance of historical monuments like our monasteries for cultural preservation, further building a repository of local knowledge, and sustaining the innate quality of the historic buildings is necessary. The neglect in restoration work in these historic monasteries is washing down the structure. The walls are likely to survive the next few decades but might lose the other characteristic it holds now. The negligence may not feel like a massive part of this problem right now because it’s at a stage where it goes unnoticed, and is invisible but eventually, over years it will start showing up. We should evolve and use the modern facilities, resources, and knowledge we now have access to.

Iconic structure of Kee Gonpa, Spiti | Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

The state of development and accessibility has made us avail many new resources. The traditional houses in Spiti evolved from shutting the tiny window using a good-sized rock to wooden windows to big windows with glass which allows maximum sunlight to enter and keep the house warm. This is one example of how to use the resources available to enhance the traditional structure. But now we are evolving in the wrong direction. Adapting materials that do not comply with the context and then we spend time and energy to fix the problem we created. In a cold desert like Spiti during winter mud houses work as insulated buildings. For the piercing cold winters, people don’t need RCC houses which do not retain heat, freeze everything inside them, and cause a lot of health problems after prolonged usage. Humans have always started with natural resources and mud is the oldest of all the natural resources used in construction. It is found in abundance, and unlike cement, it goes back to nature without polluting the landscape. From the earth to the earth. It’s high time for Spitians to bring back its forgotten practice.

885 389 Nonie Rawat
Conversation with a Shing-zowa
Photo: Tanvi Dutt

Conversation with a Shing-zowa

Himkatha

RT: Julley Angdui Phuntsok ji, When it comes to building houses and wood crafting, a lot of the people from Kibber village consult you and rely on you to undertake the work. Can you please tell us more about yourself?
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AP: Julley, Namaste, and Tashi Delek to all HimKatha readers. My name is Angdui Phuntsok, I am from Spiti’s Kibber village and I am 46 years old. I grew up helping my family herd livestock (sheep, goat, cow, yak, Dzomo) in our village pastures and plough in our barely fields. I took up carpentry work when I was 20 years old and I learned to make windows, door frames, and Kawa (wooden pillars) for traditional mud houses. I worked closely with Spitian mud-house builders and artisans who were skilled in stone masonry. I eventually self-taught and picked up the skills and started implementing them in my work as a house mistri (chief artisan). I have been building traditional houses and doing carpentry work in Spiti for about 27 years now. I spend my summers building mud houses, consulting, and helping locals undertake various renovation works, and devote my time to carpentry during winters.

RT: How do you undertake building works in Spiti and how is it different regionally?
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AP: It mostly depends on the host family, and individuals commissioning the work. Earlier traditional mud houses are preferred but these days cement houses are becoming popular and people even go for mixed structures where the walls, the foundation, roof, and the internal structures of a house are of earthen material and mud while the outer plastering of the house is done with RCC. The choice of material is also dependent on local conditions and regional variations. In the Todh valley side (upper Spiti side), the raw materials are scarce whether it is wood, good quality soil, mud, stones, or iron, hence the design and structure of a house are mostly just mud based with minimal use of resources that isn’t available locally. As you move to the Sham valley side (lower Spiti villages) access and availability of raw materials becomes easier hence earth is used extensively from walls to roofs and stone is used widely in lower portions of a building for stability. When you reach the neighboring villages in Kinnaur like Nako, Malling, and Chango, stone-dominated structures and dry stone houses will be visible.

Construction in Kibber | Photo: Rinchen Tobgye

RT: From your experience how have people’s livelihoods, and developmental changes in the region impacted local architecture in Spiti?
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AP: There is a deep connection between people’s livelihood, their way of life, development changes that happen in the region, and how it shapes the local architecture. Spiti’s architectural changes have certainly undertaken an interesting trajectory and as a local artisan, I am still grappling to find balance and navigate the changes. Earlier Spitians are primarily dependent on agriculture and livestock rearing and the local houses, the architectural designs are built to accommodate the agro-pastoral needs of the household and the community/ suit agropastoral needs. Incorporating separate structures for cattle like corrals, livestock pens, and storage rooms for grains, tools, dry toilets, Dhangtsey (open courtyard), and flat-roofs are all an integral part of the local architecture and function beautifully to fulfill the unique needs of an agricultural family. With accessibility, better connectivity, tourism, and development changes, alternate livelihood opportunities are arising for locals and that utter dependency on agriculture-based livelihood is changing.

Many people are employed in government services, and tourism-based livelihoods are increasingly becoming easier options for people. This is all dynamically changing people’s relationship with their land, their resources, and the local architecture. Vernacular house designs, traditional structures, spaces used for agropastoral-based livelihood, and local materials are losing their relevance. Many households own a lesser number of cattle nowadays and rearing large-bodied livestock like yaks have also shrunk a lot. Only in Todh valley (upper Spiti) it is practiced and hence erstwhile spaces, and structures dedicated to these needs are falling out of use. Modern, cement-based hotels, guesthouses, and giant commercial buildings completely contrast with the local architecture are cropping up. The changes were more prominent in lower Spiti villages like Kaza, Rangrik, and Tabo earlier but in the past 3-4 years, such structures are also becoming more prominent in remote villages like Hansa, Hull, Pangmo too and many of these hotels remain nonfunctional during winters. Like many fragile places, development changes in Spiti are at the cost of the environment, and resource stress, and are slowly changing the architectural integrity of the place.

Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

RT: How is it impacting local artisans and local knowledge around indigenous architecture in Spiti?

AP: The traditional building technique using natural materials found locally is an easy, affordable, locally suited, and eco-friendly way of building. People are familiar with the local resources, materials used for construction and leverage traditional knowledge, and intelligence to design houses. It doesn’t involve unnecessarily complex methods and tools to implement it. It’s very intuitive, immersive, and experiment-based and most people have a working knowledge of the same. The shift to non-traditional, industrial raw materials like cement, steel, glass, and other concrete materials has alienated locals from their own land, own resources, and indigenous knowledge about building systems as it requires specialized masons, and craftspeople to build cement structures.
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The dependency on non-local craftsmanship is increasing which in turn triggers the migration of workers, artisans, and laborers from lower Himachal districts like Mandi, Kangra, Shimla and some even come from as far as Rajasthan, Bihar, Odisha, Jharkhand and Maharashtra. More and more locals from lower Spitian villages like Kaza, Tabo, Rangrik, Losar, Khurik, Shego, Lara which are hot spots for tourism are outsourcing the construction works to migrant workers from other parts of the country who have no knowledge of the local context and are probably themselves struggling to work in such harsh climatic conditions. Earlier local artisans like Gyangon-da (rammed earth mud builder), Piti Dor-si (Stonemason), Piti Shingzo-wa (wood crafter/carpenters) play an integral role among community members, and their skills, their knowledge, their experiences about the landscape shapes the local architecture. The large-scale tourism and development-based constructions are creating a new social order which is posing multiple threats to the environment, local ecology, wildlife, and architectural heritage. Natural heritage.

Photos: Angdui Phuntsok

RT: As a local mud house builder, and an artisan, what are some of the challenges you experience daily?

AP: Ghawo minang yokak! (… there are many challenges!) Construction is essentially labor intensive and physically strenuous work. As an artisan whether you are involved in stone masonry rammed earth building, or are undertaking other works like carrying stones, mud, bricks, breaking stones, or digging earth, it takes a heavy toll physically. Knee, back, and joint pains are very common, and injuries due to construction work is a common experience. But all that pain goes away if your host, and the individuals commissioning the work are kind and generous, and there’s a sense of solidarity, and camaraderie among workers, villagers, and community members. We all work together, help each other, eat meals together, enjoy the process of building, sing songs, drink copious amounts of tea, tell stories, and within no time, work gets done!

RT: Thank you for patiently sharing your experiences with us.

AP: Thank you.

1770 778 Angdui Phuntsok and Rinchen Tobge
An Insight into Traditional Spitian Architecture
A typical village in Spiti | Photo: Chemi Lhamo

An Insight into Traditional Spitian Architecture

Himkatha

Spiti is a cold, dry desert with a vast expanse of land that has a limited scope of vegetation and productivity. Nevertheless, there’s an oasis of human settlement, small but scattered along the river valley depending upon it for sustenance. Some of these remote ancient villages have existed in this harsh terrain for at least a thousand years and the local houses, architecture, building techniques, materials, and design sensibilities reflect conscious choices that take into consideration the unique topography and natural environment around them. Most traditional houses in Spiti are double-storeyed with flat roofs, and thick walls, with multiple rooms and structures that beautifully suit our agro-pastoral way of life.

I remember my father nostalgically recounting how in the olden times when winters were long and harsh, snow piles high, and seasonal migration to warmer places wasn’t as convenient as these days, they found ingenious ways to accommodate their daily needs within the house. “Snowstorm or drought, we had our granaries filled to last at least two years and hardly had to move out of the house!”  Spitians – despite being people of slender means, were quite inventive and it is tactfully reflected in the vernacular design systems of the houses.

Ancient mud house in Mane, Spiti | Photo: Pema Khando

Material & traditional tools used for construction:

Upon entering any Spitian village, the most striking aspect is the cluster of white mud houses dotted beautifully against the blue sky and gigantic barren mountains. The design, aesthetics, and material composition of the houses are uniquely Spitian – evolved and adapted to suit the cold mountain desert. Primarily natural materials are used for construction; with stones as the foundation, mud for walls, and various kinds of wood for ceilings, door & window frames and support structures like Kawa (pillars). Some of the common materials used are listed below:

  • Thalwa/Dambak (Mud): For the construction of walls and boundaries. A particular type of soil colloquially called Dambak with the right proportion of clay is preferred over black soil and others.
  • Duwa (Stone): Big natural stones chiseled to uniform sizes are preferred for building foundations and structures on the ground floor like Lukra (sheep pen) and Chaksa (dry toilet), as mud tends to lose its structural integrity over time due to excessive dampness from the snowfall.
  • Dhuwa (Clay): Clayey soil is used for waterproofing the roof and plastering the outer walls.
  • Changma (Willow): Willow sticks of two varieties: Gyalchang, used for doors and window frames as it is hard and durable, and Chulshing, a leaner variety of willow used mostly for Dri-lu which is used for the internal structure of a roof.
  • Mal (Poplar): Poplar wood for two giant support structures called Makdung and Burdung for roofing, support beam, window, and door panels.
  • Shukpa (Juniper): For Dri-lu, door, and window panels
  • Kirsi (Lime): For whitewashing and plastering outer walls. Mostly sourced from Losar and other upper valley sides while for lower Spiti valley, it is brought from Gue and Hurling villages.
  • Kova (Leather): Leather, when braided, is called Dangbha and is used for door handles, locks, and door bolts called Korchok.
  • Pema (Wild shrub): Primarily used as a protective structure for wood panels of the window and to prevent mud walls and outer paint from rain and snow.
Traditional ceiling | Photo: Tsering Lhundup
Sitpa  (yak hair rope) | Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

Natural building techniques like rammed earth building are used for construction which is suitable due to its durability, low maintenance, and thermally optimal characteristics which protect the houses from extreme climate and help retain stable temperatures inside the building. Since most of the houses are hand-built, there are specific traditional tools used for constructing particular aspects of a house. It is startling how even for building seemingly simple structures like a wall, multiple tools are used as listed below:

  1. Gyang Shing: Gyang means a wall, and Shing means wood, thus Gyang-Shing is a wooden plank, used to encase the mud to help build the structure of the wall.
  2. grDu: It is used to support the Gyanshing from the inside, and is placed in between the planks to prevent it from collapsing.
  3. Garshing: Garshing is used to enclose either side of the Gyang-Shing to mark the beginning and the end of a wall being built.
  4. Gyingbur: It consists of two pairs of wooden sticks, with two holes in each stick, used to provide support to the Gyang-Shing from the outside.
  5. Sivu: it also consists of two pairs of sticks, used with Gyingbur to support the wooden plank.
  6. Thopse: It is a wooden hammer used to thump the mud placed in between the plank to make it structurally more solid and to rid of air spaces and bubbles in the mud.
  7. Tokchung: It is a construction hoe with a short wooden handle, used to scratch out uneven surfaces, and small stones from the walls before it gets solidifies.
Traditional tools for contruction in Spiti. Illustrative representation: Tsering Lhundup

Dynamic design & traditional practices:

Agriculture and livestock rearing used to be the primary sources of livelihood for people in Spiti and our old houses are constructed to incorporate those needs in the vernacular design. Each house comprises at-least 8-10 rooms with unique functions and features. Elaborate storehouses can be seen in older houses like “Zot” colloquially means storeroom and there are different types of Zot used for different purposes: dry meats are stored in “sham-zot”, agricultural tools are stored in “lak-zot” whereas, alcoholic beverages like chaang and aarak are kept in “chang-zot”. Apart from that, some families have an additional room called “Tiwang” where foodgrains and other edible items are stored, the room is divided into multiple subsections used to keep various items. Within Tiwang, there’s a small compartmentalized room called bhaang where the family’s essential items are stored and access to it is only from a narrow window from the upper floor. Dhaa is a granary on the ground floor where fungma (hay) for livestock is stocked for winter and it has a small window-like aperture to stack grasses.

Photo: Mr. Janhwij Sharma, Additional DG, ASI

As for the livestock enclosures, most Spitian households have at least two kinds of livestock pen; Luk-raa/Raa is a cattle house placed inside the house on the ground floor while Dhang-raa is an open corral placed outside of the house right at the main entry gate. Apart from that, the family’s winter room Yok-Khang is structurally always in close quarters with the Luk-raah as the room draws insulation from Luk-raah making it warmer and easier to tend livestock during heavy snowfall in case of livestock sickness or during birthing cases. On the upper floor, the key rooms are Ma-khang (main living room), Shal-khang (solar room). Chot-khang (prayer room), Don-Khang (guest room), and Dhang-zey an open courtyard on the upper floor that serves as a functional space for many community activities and which also has a small window-like access point for all the ground storerooms.

Two different types of livestock corral: Luk-raa/Raa and Dhangra | Photos: Deepshikha Sharma and Chonzom

The most unique aspect of natural building techniques prevalent in high-altitude regions like Spiti is the communal nature of the work. An individual seeks support from the community in terms of resources as well as labor so it is not unusual to have members of your family, relatives, friends, and other community members involved in building a house. The use of local resources, awareness about the material composition, familiarity with the natural building techniques, and use of local intelligence renders them capable to build a house locally without seeking any help from outsiders. Apart from master artisans like stone masons, mud builders, and carpenters under whose guidance the whole construction takes place, there’s a huge contribution from community members.

Elaborate rituals are performed to seek blessings and forgiveness for causing a disturbance in the surroundings during construction. The one in particular I remember is an offering of Sichu Bhumpa to the local land deity Sa-dak – It involves placing a pot full of precious, semi-precious stones, coins, and scriptures in the foundation to invoke their auspicious blessings. During particularly laborious aspects like roofing works, the entire village gathers to help finish it on time and after finishing all the construction works, villagers take turns to visit the family, offer gifts (like barley, butter, grains, and other delicacies ) and congratulate the owner. In certain cases, a close friend or a relative even hosts meals for the entire family including the chief mason and his men. Similarly, when a newlywed couple build their first house, villagers help by pooling important resources like wood logs. These cultural practices help ease the logistical burden on the host family where the community becomes one’s greatest support system.

In the olden times when importing materials for constrcution was not possible, people often exchanged raw materials or traded labor for raw materials. I remember many such instances where milking animals like cows, Dzomo, sheep, goats, or draught animals like horses, yak, and donkeys are exchanged for important construction materials like dungma (willow log) and timbers.

Gue monastery architecture, Spiti Valley | Photo: Tsering Lhundup

Other commonly traded materials are butter, iron, honey, sitpa (yak thread rope) from which one can buy construction materials of equal monetary value. Iron and honey are not easily found in Spiti and hence were a coveted commodity, sitpa also fetched equal importance but gradually with the emergence of nylon ropes in the local shops and improved accessibility, there was a huge impact on overall trading practices around it. There was a time when it was also possible to pay for construction labor works through local resources. One popular example of this unique labor v/s resource exchange is the payment of one goat to a master artisan for helping build a house. With development, these practices have undergone massive changes and are no longer practiced but it was fascinating to recount such stories and ponder upon various means of material procurement for construction works.

4080 3060 Namgial Lundup
Conversation with a Gyangon-da
Glimpse of mud house construction in Spiti  | Photo: Tanvi Dutta

Conversation with a Gyangon-da

Himkatha

Demul is a remote high-altitude village in Spiti known for its beautiful meadows and pastures. The villagers are agro-pastoralists and still actively practice their traditional ways of agriculture, livestock rearing, and herding. This village is also home to many Spitian artisans skilled in building traditional mud houses, Dor-si (stone mason), Shingso-wa (carpenter), and Gyanghon-da (earthen wall builder). We spoke to Mr. Chhuldim Pempa from Demul who has been in the trade for decades and is a master craftsman skilled in stone masonry and rammed earth building.

HimKatha: Julley and Tashi Delek. Chhuldim ji, we heard you have spent many years building traditional mud houses in Spiti and are an expert Dor-si (stone mason). Can you tell us more about yourself and how you started?

Chhuldim Pempa: Yes. I have been working in traditional construction for over 30 years in Spiti and my primary work is building houses using mud and stones. I started in the early 90s when I was around 18-20 years old. I stumbled upon it quite unexpectedly – I grew up herding and working in my family field but once there was an opportunity to work as a construction helper to a house mistri (chief mason) in my village. The work seemed pretty doable, it included working under a master craftsman and helping him in manual works like carrying stones, digging works, making mud mixtures, and doing all the preparatory works before the chief mason started laying the stone foundation for a house. It was paying a minimal amount for the labor work, so I took it up along with a few friends. Back then, there wasn’t much to do, so I continued as a labor helper in traditional constructions for a few years before I began focusing exclusively on stone masonry and rammed earth-building techniques. Looking back, I realize, my apprenticeship days were difficult but it’s there amid the mud, stones, and under the guidance of a skilled mason that I learned the most and picked up the skills of the trade before I started practicing it independently in my village.

HK: What changes have you seen in natural building techniques over the years?

CP: In Spiti, rammed earth building has traditionally been practiced for centuries, it is used for building residential houses and monasteries – most of the old mud buildings in Spiti like Tabo Gonpa (built-in 10th C) and the old Tengyud Gonpa are built in that form. To a large extent, it is still preferred in higher Spitian villages like Demul, Komic, Chicham, and Kibber for its durability and inherent thermal capabilities. Architectural changes are definitely taking place in Spiti and with that, there is a stark shift in natural building techniques, resource usage, and general treatment of vernacular design systems.

There’s an increased usage of industrial materials like cement, metals, ready-mix concretes, glass, plywood, plastics, and artificial stones which were not accessible in earlier times. Earlier houses were built with a lot of care and even the smallest details were incorporated with a lot of structural integrity. For eg, all mud houses have “Kyorma” on the upper roof which is a protective boundary made of wild shrubs, it looks aesthetic as well as does a great job of protecting the mud walls from sun and rain. The use of such designs is declining.

Walls are built with Gyang-sa – a specific soil type carefully selected by the master mason, it is mixed with grass chaffs, straw, or small wood chips, and the mixture is then kneaded with water two days before building a wall. It is done to allow better water absorption in the mixture and adding grass chaffs provides warmth once it is built. Thick double walls of about 18 inches are built using a cross-joint technique where one wall is built from right to left and another from left to right.

The structure is then plastered with the same mud mix or tied on the two sides with wooden planks (ghing-shing) on the two sides of the walls and the mud mix is filled in. Once filled, it is slowly pushed in by walking on it which makes the wall structures more cohesive. Such designs are crack resistant and have better resilience towards earthquakes as compared to straight cement pillars that are adopted in new houses these days. Thoughtful building methods like this are slowly fading and I am afraid soon people won’t require artisans like us.

 Mudhouse construction in Kaza | Photo: Mr. Janhwij Sharma, Additional DG, ASI

HK: What tools are used to build houses in the olden days?

CP: We used very minimal tools as there was no access to any resources. Most tools were handmade by Spitian blacksmith artisans from the Dzo community who were experts in making agricultural and field tools used for construction. We used only 2-3 tools like Tokse, Teo, and basal used for digging mud, pulling stones, handling mortar, and other wooden tools for building walls. Since houses were built communally among villagers, tools were also shared locally among people. For measurements, we relied heavily on the ancient technique of using the body as a tool – fingers, elbows, and arms were used liberally to measure walls and base construction. For eg: “Thu” is a measuring length from the middle finger to the elbow while “Dhompa” is the length from one’s right hand to the left once we spread it widely and apparently one Dhompa equals five feet. Such measurements are used for building smaller structures in the house like Chaksa (dry toilets) and Raah (Sheep house).

HK: Are there any community practices and traditional rituals around building houses?

CP: Yes. In Spiti, building houses is a community activity. Everyone pools in the resources and volunteers to help during various phases of construction. It is quite common for 3-4 households to get together and help each other and it is colloquially called the “Bhey” system where the community forms an internal support structure and relies on each other for resources and labor. In a place like Spiti where resources are scarce and sustenance difficult, it proves more feasible and affordable. Many auspicious rituals are performed to bring good luck and prosperity to the host family. The one, in particular, I remember is called “Saney-Doney” where the host family consults Rinpoche (venerable lamas) and he places a pot containing soil and pebbles from Buddhist pilgrimage sites like Varanasi and Nepal in the four directions of the foundation

to ward off evil energies on the land and to bring prosperity for the host family. Another ritual is called Jinshak ceremony which is done on empty barren land to check the suitability of the land for construction. Apart from that, there are local belief systems that imbibe respect for human-nature relations and value natural surroundings. For e.g. stones are never excavated from Chumik – the spring water areas for construction as it causes ecological disturbance in the area.

HK: Thank you for sharing your experience with us.

CP: Zang-song! (Thank you)

Traditional house contructed by Gyangon-da Pempa in Demul village
1770 1000 Chhuldim Pempa
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