I must thank you for an excellent piece…. I went to Ladakh three times before it became a ‘tourist destination’ and loved it - at first sight! The scent of juniper …the open and measuring and curious eyes of the people and then the warm smile! Ladakhi hospitality was generous and warm…I stayed with a family on one occasion. This was kindness itself.
I was drawn there, having read a book by Helena Norberg Hodge called ‘Ancient Futures’ …she warned of over commercialisation and more, but change was inevitable. One of the best things about my stay was learning to BE…. just be….to let the sun warm me, to wrap up but to be outside and to slow down. Really slow down. Inside. There was much more, of course ….the drone of Buddhist chanting, the call to prayer from Leh Mosque, the far horizons seen all around …the road to Lamayuru….meals eaten around a table on the floor. The laughter and the silence and tears. Buying a thick shawl and a nugget of turquoise which an old man sold to me in the market …with reverence, he said, “Very old” I responded with respect and gratitude. I still wear it sometimes…it’s carefully put away in a Japanese lacquer box each time …. Buying Things wasn’t high on the agenda there but Experiences were definitely the best part.
The mountains drew me and the people….the smile of a ‘brigand’, the appraising stare of a bejewelled woman, the offering of a meal or a seat …sunburned faces and tough bodies…but warmth and kindness too. And adventure….lots of it. Thanks for stirring my Cup of Memories…..
Sorry for the delay in responding, but thank you so much for sharing your memories. So much of what you describe - that quality of learning to "just be," the generous hospitality, the reverence in simple exchanges like buying turquoise - mirrors what I encountered there too. The scent of juniper, the sense that experiences mattered more than acquisitions - these feel like the real Ladakh beneath all the complexities.
Thanks, also, for the book suggestion - I'll definitely pick up 'Ancient Futures'. Although much has changed, I still think that the Ladakh you knew and experienced, with its slower rhythms and deeper encounters, still exists if you know how and where to find it when here.
I must thank you for an excellent piece…. I went to Ladakh three times before it became a ‘tourist destination’ and loved it - at first sight! The scent of juniper …the open and measuring and curious eyes of the people and then the warm smile! Ladakhi hospitality was generous and warm…I stayed with a family on one occasion. This was kindness itself.
I was drawn there, having read a book by Helena Norberg Hodge called ‘Ancient Futures’ …she warned of over commercialisation and more, but change was inevitable. One of the best things about my stay was learning to BE…. just be….to let the sun warm me, to wrap up but to be outside and to slow down. Really slow down. Inside. There was much more, of course ….the drone of Buddhist chanting, the call to prayer from Leh Mosque, the far horizons seen all around …the road to Lamayuru….meals eaten around a table on the floor. The laughter and the silence and tears. Buying a thick shawl and a nugget of turquoise which an old man sold to me in the market …with reverence, he said, “Very old” I responded with respect and gratitude. I still wear it sometimes…it’s carefully put away in a Japanese lacquer box each time …. Buying Things wasn’t high on the agenda there but Experiences were definitely the best part.
The mountains drew me and the people….the smile of a ‘brigand’, the appraising stare of a bejewelled woman, the offering of a meal or a seat …sunburned faces and tough bodies…but warmth and kindness too. And adventure….lots of it. Thanks for stirring my Cup of Memories…..
Sorry for the delay in responding, but thank you so much for sharing your memories. So much of what you describe - that quality of learning to "just be," the generous hospitality, the reverence in simple exchanges like buying turquoise - mirrors what I encountered there too. The scent of juniper, the sense that experiences mattered more than acquisitions - these feel like the real Ladakh beneath all the complexities.
Thanks, also, for the book suggestion - I'll definitely pick up 'Ancient Futures'. Although much has changed, I still think that the Ladakh you knew and experienced, with its slower rhythms and deeper encounters, still exists if you know how and where to find it when here.