There and Back Again: the World Travels of a Watson Fellow: Women's Alliance, Random Encounters, and Shanti Stupa

September 6, 2013 - Women’s Alliance of Ladakh

Today Richard (ISEC volunteer coordinator) and I visited the Women’s Alliance of Ladakh, one of the NGOs founded by Helena Norberg-Hodge. A French anthropologist who is studying Ladakh and comparing the indigenous culture to that of the Mayan people of Mexico’s Yucatan was going to do an interview with the president and vice president, so I listened in and also chimed in with my own questions. I learned that the organization was founded in 1991 (by Helena) and is concerned with cultural preservation, women’s empowerment and income generation, and promoting organic and cooperative agriculture. It also has been focusing recently on HIV/AIDs awareness, especially since last year had 25 new cases, mainly due to young people going off to school in other parts of India. In the winter, they also do trainings with local women on handicrafts and tailoring cloth. Another amazing feat is that in 1998, plastic bags were legally banned in all of Ladakh and the Women’s Alliance is often responsible for checking in with shops (there is a 5,000 Rs fine for violating ~$80 USD). In collaboration with Vandana Shiva and Navdanya, they have an organic seed saving project for which they then distribute seeds to farmers at a subsidized rate. In addition to seed saving, each year, the Women’s Alliance goes into different villages to hold meetings and trainings with farmers (e.g. anti-chemical campaigns), as well as working with children to promote farming activities and cultural pride.

During this little visit, the French anthropologist also interviewed/filmed Richard who raised a number of important points including: how can localization work in urban areas? Unless there is some kind of Cultural Revolution with a “back to the land” objective (which clearly failed in China with the Cultural Revolution), then we need new and improved food and agricultural systems to feed urban areas. Moreover, we (as in everyone) should stop surrounding themselves with “yes men,” but instead, we should work with those who disagree with our views to learn to better defend and support what you believe in. Lastly, I appreciated his point about how the film The Economics of Happiness is a vision and now the important question is how to make it a reality. For this, we need good governance and an actual institutionalization of localization (e.g. through policy measures). Some food for thought.

September 11, 2013

Well today was quite random. I was on a bit of a wild goose chase looking for the man named Mr. Norphel who invented artificial glaciers in Ladakh. Long story short: I went to college with a girl from Nepal who went to high school in India with this other girl who used to summer in Ladakh. This friend of a friend has an aunt who owns a hotel here who has a cousin whose father is the artificial glacier man. I think I got some of the familial relations confused, but either way, I’ve tapped this chain to try to find him. After a visit (and tea and biscuits and toast) at the hotel, I found myself walking to the local public school to find the cousin, who is a teacher. The sun was blazing hot and the walk was long – I must have looked exhausted, so someone pulled over to the side of the road and offered me a ride. I mistook the vehicle for a taxi and climbed inside, asking how much. It turns out that it was just a man with some free time and a generous disposition. He is 37, owns a contracting/construction business, and plays ice hockey for the national team. He insisted on waiting while I ran into the school to deliver a note and set up an appointment with Mr. Norphel. After this, we ended up going to a little restaurant in town called the Tibetan Kitchen – it was quite delicious (I got paneer butter masala and we split a Kingfisher beer). I thought for sure he was married with children, which would have made the whole thing more comfortable, but alas, he is unmarried and I think looking for a wife (but more importantly, he stressed that he has no western friends and wants to practice his English). He insisted that I come to his home for a traditional Ladakhi meal and to meet his family. Remembering that I am practicing saying “yes,” I accepted the invitation. In between lunch and dinner, however, I had another quite serendipitous encounter as I was searching for a French NGO called GERES that does work in renewable energy. I ended up at a travel agency trying to get the contact information for the GERES director when it came out that the owner is a lovely Ladakhi who married an American and now owns a seed stock farm and lives in Princeton, Massachusetts. Princeton is a small town next to Holden, which is where my boyfriend is from, only about an hour or so away from me. Unbelievable, it really was. Being a farmer himself, he gave me a bunch of new ideas for my research in Ladakh and we just chatted cordially. Fast forward to being picked up by my new Ladakhi friend for dinner: he lives outside town, past the airport, in a random looking white house that is totally out of place amongst the surrounding shanty-town-esque shops. He built the house recently and I could tell because of the strange mix of old and new: the whole family (parents, grown children, spouses etc.) lives here, the mother wears traditional Ladakhi clothes, the living room has many area carpets with low tables in lieu of chairs, and pressure cookers and thermoses fill the kitchen (all very Ladakhi). However, they have a western-style toilet (only the second one I’ve seen in a month here), a modern looking kitchen with cabinets, a sink, a multi-burner stove, and no brass pots and pans lining the walls like usual. I’ve decided that I much prefer traditional Ladakhi-style composting toilets, which use no water, and are just a hole in a ground. Someone aptly referred to them not as toilets, but as fertilizer units – I couldn’t have said it better myself! And it hadn’t even been 15 minutes since my arrival and I was offered and served four beverages: cha ngarmo (sweet tea), cha kan te (salt tea), fruit juice, and chang (barley beer), no complete without little biscuits. Eager to help, I chopped vegetables for dinner as the repeatedly played the same commercials for skin lightening cream, soap, bleach, and hair remover. It is really depressing and strange because it’s the exact opposite of how it is in the States where girls want to be tan: here, Indians want to strip their skin of its beautiful natural color and a popular brand of soap and cream is “Fair and Lovely.” Dinner was good (dal, mixed vegetables, rice, and yogurt) but the company was kind of strange. The man kept offering to take me places (“oh you want to go to Pangong Lake? I’ll drive you!” – it’s several hours away) and even offered to give me an old mobile phone and sim card (presumably so he could stay in contact with me). His English was mediocre, so our conversations were quite limited and to be honest, I was really happy to get home after this.

And here are some more photos of my time around Leh town: