Ladakh Revisited: Does the road to economic prosperity necessarily dilute a way of life that has sustained a population through generations?

The name Ladakh immediately conjures up romantic images of a remote land of majestic mountain ranges in shades of barren brown and towering snow-capped peaks; sweeping expanses of cold desert sand and starkly rocky slopes, meandering rivers through lush valleys and dramatic gorges; sparkling lakes of crystal clear water and a mystical and stoic people who live off this land and are content in their way of life that does not seem to have changed much in the last two hundred odd years.

As such, Ladakh was predominantly the paradise destination for outdoor enthusiasts, nature lovers and trekkers since it was opened up for tourists in 1974. In fact six years ago when I first landed in Leh airport with a group of women travelers, I was amazed to see how incongruous and tame our suitcases appeared on the baggage carousel in comparison to the rucksacks, climbing equipment, cycles and camping gear of other travelers. In some ways perhaps, Ladakh is in danger of becoming a victim to its own breathtaking beauty.

The emerging trend for adventure seekers and travelers today is more of car bound travel, mostly cars and bikes, though I did see some doughty cyclists, not Indians, even at Khardungla pass at 17,982 feet and admired their levels of fitness and capacity for roughing it out. The tourists are visiting in droves; the summer tourist season now extends to October. There is even a winter season for the die-hards, the Chador trek, which is skating on the frozen Zanskar river in the remote Zanskar valley, or searching for snow leopards in wildlife sanctuaries.

The boom in tourism has certainly aided the economic prosperity of many Ladakhis at least in the Leh district. The single winding market street of six years ago has now been widened, flattened, tiled and made only for pedestrian traffic. There are benches to relax on and a plethora of restaurants to suit different budgets. I cannot remember climbing too many stairs or riding lifts to upper floors to access shops & cafes earlier. Kashmiri traders in shawls and carpets say that business in Leh is much better than in Srinagar. Car parks and taxi stands are overflowing. On one of the days of special significance to Buddhists, there were makeshift tents put up by rural cooperatives and local women briskly selling their products to both tourists and locals alike. In 2012 there was one Tibetan refugee market housed in an enormous tin shed, now there are Tibetan refugee mini markets lurking in more than one corner of the main market!

In addition to the bazaar beautification, for the more discerning upmarket traveler, there are smaller restaurants in other neighborhoods and adjacent villages that grow their own vegetables and fruits, menus are exotic and not necessarily ethnic, boutique shops selling designer clothes made from Ladakhi fabrics, and boutique hotels that are renovated traditional homes. As per the law of the land the owner has to be a local but I am not sure who are benefitting from the profits as the staff appears to be mostly from other states. None of these establishments had been observed on my earlier visit. I was left wondering whether this problem of unequal distribution of profits could lead to future social unrest.

The problem could go beyond an unequal distribution of profits however. Those not part of the tourism boom could become economically worse off just by living the way they are. Historically, subsistence agriculture, pastoral herding and community interdependence have been major components of the society and economy. The reciprocal relations of mutual aid could be broken down by the extension of the monetary economy, and tourists’ demands for scarce resources could drive up the prices of local goods.

However, I was surprised to see a lot of construction activity in the villages through which I travelled. I also observed shops selling building materials in remote locations. On enquiring with the locals I was told that in addition to the tourism industry, the army employs local young men in winter in Siachen because of their expertise in surviving in the severely harsh weather conditions, and pays them well. This assurance of year round income has brought relief to many villagers. The number of small cars plying up and down high mountain roads and the burgeoning school buildings are also testimony to the relative prosperity of the local population in the villages. Ladakh incidentally has a high literacy rate though heavily skewed towards males.

In 2012 our team of travelers was very impressed by the cleanliness in Leh and its surrounding areas. There was not a whiff of multicolored plastic except for the very occasional tetrapack discarded by an irresponsible outsider. We were told that the then 40 year old king (symbolic even before independence because Ladakh was annexed by the king of Kashmir in the 19th century) runs a rehabilitation centre for the disabled which supplies paper bags to most of the shops, and that Ladakhis were immensely aware of conservation and ecology.  Sadly, there is more than enough plastic garbage on the wayside even when driving through remote areas devoid of human habitation for miles on end. Does this imply a proliferation of ecologically unaware tourists and an impossibility to monitor such vast areas, or are social values changing? On the upside I heard for myself a mobile campaign by the district administration exhorting citizens to dispose of their waste in the correct manner.

Located at the crossroads of India China and Pakistan, Ladakh is of immense geostrategic importance and the presence of the Indian army patrolling and protecting its borders is proof of that. In January 2018, the Union Cabinet approved the construction of the Zojila Pass tunnel at an estimated cost of Rs 6,089 crore which will reduce the travel time through the pass from three and a half hours to fifteen minutes. The objective of the pass would be to ensure all weather connectivity of Leh and Kashmir, and the government envisions that this would in turn result in a boost in local employment and businesses.

As Ladakh opens up to the outside world and new horizons, it is impractical to expect the Ladakhi youth to remain content with their traditional way of life. It is not just the delicate ecology of the area that is threatened; it is also the social fabric and cultural identity of an age old community that is questioned. To attain that perfect balance, there have been some positive responses. The Ladakh Ecological Development Group, the Ladakh Project, the Students’ Educational & Cultural Movement of Ladakh and the Association of Buddhist Monasteries among others have been doing some good work.

While I was in Ladakh last month, the Hemis Monastery was organizing the Naropa festival celebrating the life and legacy of the famous Buddhist scholar. Along with chanting lamas, Buddhist religious dances, making of sand mandalas, thangka painting demonstrations and traditional archery competitions, there was also a concert of Bollywood singers ranging from Sonu Nigam to Papon and Kailash Kher! Images remain of young monks in trendy sunglasses drinking coffee and in deep conversation with the faithful. I was regaled with an anecdote by a friend who runs a camp on the outskirts of Leh. When the Dalai Lama came to visit in July he stayed nearby (not next door), and sent messages himself if any of the residents was listening to music too loudly or too late in the night! Perhaps this is the right way to find the ideal balance ….through social engagement and respectful discourse.

(The Pictures below are of a romantic landscape,welcoming committee for Omar Abdullah, modernized market place and of a the signpost at Khardung La)

Prajna Sen

Communicationist

13th October 2018