Pictures: Stories of Upper Mustang

Pictures: Stories of Upper Mustang

While at the village of Geiling, a smartly dressed girl approached me and asked me for candy. Kids here are very welcoming to anyone ventures through their territory. It’s also the laughter of the children that diffuses the awkwardness. Their honesty and curiosity led them to ask questions about my origins, my intentions and WHY? Such profound questions, you feel much less wiser because of the persistent and anticipation on their eyes. No one really has the answers, we just pretend like we do.

Tibetan women usually have 108 plaits in their hair because the number 108 is very significant in Buddhism. From the prayer beads, the natural division of a circle, 108 energy line in the body, 108 sacred books constitutes the holy writing for Tibetans and that there are 108 delusions of the mind. Her mother must have given her the hair style.

A grandfather holding his 2 month old grandson.

 

One of the many man responsible for bringing in goods from Jomsom to the forbidden kingdom in Upper Mustang. The animals are respectiable and keep a slow orderly line in this desert. There is no competition, everyone has to endure the journey. Dehydration is inevitable at time when the animal’s vein is showing as an evidence. The horse(s) will stop at a checkpoint and the owner will undress them, upon doing so the horse will scratch themselves all over the sand. Once the horse is done it will graze until contempt, acknowledging this the owner re-straps them and continues their journey. There is a mutual respect between the horse and the horseman.

It’s an interesting spectacle to see.

One of the many man responsible for bringing in goods from Jomsom to the forbidden kingdom in Upper Mustang. The animals are respectable and keep a slow orderly line in this desert. There is no competition, everyone has to endure the journey. Dehydration is inevitable at time when the animal’s vein is showing as an evidence. The horse(s) will stop at a checkpoint and the owner will undress them, upon doing so the horse will scratch themselves all over the sand. Once the horse is done it will graze until contempt, acknowledging this the owner re-straps them and continues their journey. There is a mutual respect between the horse and the horseman.

It’s an interesting spectacle to see.

There is an annual test for the monks in Mustang, usually has the candidates seated, with the exam board members standing and walking among them. When one candidate raises a point, the exam board members will counter to keep the debate going on. If the candidate wins the debate, he passes the exam. Monks have to spend at least 20 years learning the five volumes of Tibetan Buddhism teachings to earn the qualification. Usually, dozens of candidates are sought. They will be tested with the late lama's possessions; those who have amazing knowledge in identifying their predecessor's belongings win and become the final candidates.

He said to pass the exams took him more than 30 years of hard study and five major exams.

His name is Sange (saan-ghee). He's been here for 2 months and plans to live further for 3 years in seclusion. He gets up at 3am and meditates until 8am. He gets distracted by foreigners coming here but does not mind. He's from tibet where they mediate for 12 hours a day. He started meditating when he was 17. It's a really important year for him and I'm assuming all Buddhist because it's Padmasambhava birth year. He's been to Switzerland and Australia. He also mentioned that during three months of the year there is no sunlight because of mountains and he's expecting the cold season to take over soon. But for the moment he says it's fine because he was born in Tibet. He smiles hesitantly as he said this.

 

The concept of religion and maturity goes in hand for majority of the population in Upper Mustang. The mind is filled with what really matters in this world for ensuring a better reincarnation whether than be rigorous recital of prayers or prolonged time in solitude. Compassion, integrity, moral community support is what strives the population with greatness. It also keeps them shielded from the cold, their stories matches their expression on their face. Whereas kids’ faces are vulnerable the elders of Lo-Mantang are sturdy with ample experience into the hardship of life. Talking them to them is very minimalist, answers are given with a simple nod or ignorance. The ignorance is not of disrespect but rather tough love, questions to you answers must be found out on your court and in your own time. Once you leave the comfort of childhood one must learn to thrive by themselves. 

(left)- A man name Hakba Gurung, aged 77, was sitting down on a corner with a turquoise earring counting his 108 beads chanting "Om Mani Padme Hum". I came through this village as part of my lunch, I was amazed at how difficult and exhausting this terrain was due to the altitude. Hakba was sitting alongside the residue of the wood shrapnel. He explained to me how he executed his prayers and also asked me if I had any medicine. I replied that I did not but comforted him with a bottle of coke and biscuit that I had bought from his shop. He smiled and thanked me. He showed me the leftover of his eye droplets and asked me to go the restaurant to buy some more, right intention but wrong place. I explained but he didn't seem to listen and whenever we had a moment of silence he would go back into counting his prayers. After a while I decided to leave. I asked his son who was overseeing and hearing all this conversation that he had a cyst on his eye, the explanation caused him to ask if I was a doctor. I wasn't but I had the infection before. It was really fascinating to see his eyes. The eyes of an experienced Mustang local.

 

Dolma (42), who had been fixated on making a scarf. She kept going around in circles with a figure of eight on poles that were attached to the hard ground. It was truly hypnotic and everyone stared at her concentration. When she went too fast she would usually break the string, being experienced this did not matter to her as she quickly re- threaded the broken strings and continued. I took twenty minutes of this experience. She then cooked a local delicacy called “dhero” “dero” “dhherroo” (however you want to pronounce it, usually written “dhindo”). It’s a mixture of millet flour and water. The water is first boiled then the flour is mixed. The flour is churned until the mixture becomes hard and cooked. It is then consumed with lentils, vegetable and at special times with meat.

After stepping out on to the rooftop of the house as a necessity to get away from the cold. There was a sight of women and men laughing mutually while preparing bricks for the local house that was under construction. They said "dai, aunus na, rato rato shau herna man lagcha bhane", translates to "big brother please do come here if you want to see red red apples". I laughed and could not decline this welcoming invitation. I went with a polo bar as this welcoming gift. Upon reaching the field of their work there were double the number of heads that I counted initially from the rooftops. Very swiftly one of the ladies said "only ladies get one". The men surprisingly obey the instruction.

I asked if I could join them on their conversation and sit down with them, they happily accepted. They were on their lunch break so it was convenient. They offered me local rakshi to which I knew they wanted a reaction from. I went with the intention of giving them the rakshi face but my intention was meant to be fake it turned out to be real. It was much stronger than I had anticipated. I could not keep a straight face, they laughed more. They went about gossiping and on the surface flirting. Maybe it was also a further contribution from my side that made the conversations much more childish and fun. After they shouted out some Tibetan words i only felt obliged to smile. I fully knew they were talking things behind my back but I was too lightheaded from the rakshi to care. Saying so we said our goodbye and let them continue their hardship.