Tumbleweeds: Dah, Hanu, Beima

What is there to say about living a different life for two weeks? I’m changed, I’m awed, my horizons are broadened, blah blah blah. I don’t know about any of those things. Besides tangible things, I’m not sure what I left these places with. Or what I left in those places.

In terms of the project, we had a blazing success. Beautiful stories heard, recorded in memory and in digital space, and then a week and a half of photographing those stories. Dah and Hanu look like film sets so much that my brain felt like it was looking at a few real things set against a giant green screen, most of the time.

We ended up choosing three distinct stories to photograph and write, and managed to finish all of the shooting with minimal resources. Shivani and I even ended up playing characters in the stories, just to take our involvement to a whole other level.

Basically, we chose these two villages because of their interesting history- they’re Dardic people, and come from an entirely different ethnic group from Ladakhis. The villages in this small area are the only Dardic settlements in Ladakh, so we were interested in their stories and their history.

We started our adventure in the village of Dah, which is a tiny village of apricot groves, grape vines, apple trees, and vegetable gardens set deep in the Himalayas, about an eight hour drive from the town of Leh. The army actually secured us rooms in the only guesthouse/homestay in Dah (on of the perks of being the niece/friends of a brigadier in the Indian army), and we spent our first few days there. Dah is set low in a valley, so the height is only about 2800 meters, as opposed to Leh’s 3500 meters. It was nice to be a bit lower for a few days, as I have not been having an easy time with the altitude. The road doesn’t actually go to the village- it runs along the shore of the Indus, and then you have to hike up into the village proper along the irrigation channels.

Both Dah and Hanu have a really interesting irrigation system, wherein the whole village is laced with clear streams that are diverted throughout the day to make sure that every field gets sufficient water. The streams come directly from glacial melts and rivers, so they are clear and cold and give the impression of an abundance of clean water.

After a few days in Dah, we managed to collect the three stories that we ended up shooting. We then moved to Hanu, where our lovely guide/friend Gyaltson found us a family to stay with for a few days. While there we learned how to harvest barley, drank chang (a type of rice alcohol) and butter tea, ate sattu (a food made from barley and often stuffed with yak butter), became a little extension to a beautiful family, and found our first hero for photographing in the husband/father of the house—Norzang—who is my age. His whole family ended up dressing up and acting for us, as well as giving us new amazing stories.

The village of Hanu is quite different from Dah, even though the Brogpa, the original language of the Dards. In Hanu, they have lost their language and adopted Ladakhi. Where Dah is lower and built along the Indus, Hanu lies at about 3500 meters—much-higher—and has a different landscape. Instead of lush groves set amongst stony mountains, Hanu is a wide open plain which sports many houses and flat fields of barley and vegetables. You never forget the severe setting of rocky, deserted mountains in Hanu, whereas in Dah it’s easy to think you’ve landed in an offshoot of the garden of Eden.

While in Hanu, I became repeatedly ill and managed to spend one morning throwing up in our hosts’ garden, contracting a fever, struggling with the altitude, etc. Also, let me say that it’s not pleasant to have any type of consistent stomach problems when you have to climb up a ladder to use a bathroom that is a hole in the ground. Granted, the Ladakhi bathrooms are brilliantly set up, where the toilet is simply a hole in the dirt, and after you use it you shovel some dirt into the hole over your business, and somehow they manage to turn all this mess into compost later. Amazing, except when you’re desperately ill and have trouble getting up the ladder.

There is no electricity in either of these villages (except a few hours sometimes in the evening in Hanu), so life is a different process then I’ve been used to. We bathed in buckets of (literally) glacial water, so baths are few and far between unless you want to catch a cold. Food comes right out of the garden, and water from glacial fed streams. Medicine is quickly available in both villages, from well supplied dispensaries. We got eaten by bugs, and ate loads of apricots.

I’m grateful for the amenities that come with being back in Leh- occasional internet, cafes, hot water, not having to go to the military checkpoint to charge things, but I already miss the air, the water, the greenery, the remoteness, and our friends.

In Hanu, preparing Norzang for his role as the youngest brother hero, running from the evil witch (played hilariously by Shivani).

Gyaltson helping preperations.

The Dalai Lama arrived in Beima to give a lecture. We were there by 5am for the party.

The sun rose over the mountain right as the Dalai Lama took his seat. Well timed! And the party that followed was Dard music and dancing and sweet rice and tea! Sunrise party!