Humans of Spiti

Humans of Spiti
Humans of Spiti

It is a small project I did during my stay in Spiti with the intention to know more about people of Spiti and specially the kids. We got into conversations to know each other sometimes through words, sometimes through smile, and sometimes through eyes. It is ongoing project which would be extended to capture the People and even landscapes of Spiti in different seasons and will be updated again.

The Spiti Valley lies in the Western Himalaya at 3680 meters, in Himachal Pradesh. The valley sees the extreme weather and remain snow covered for atleast 5-6 months in an year. Due to the connectivity Spiti Valley and its people has been deprived of basic facilities but thanks to some Government and Non Government Organization which came out to help these people which are helping to build houses, schools an hospitals. It is very important to understand the people and their lives here before you make a travel plan to Spiti and hope to contribute to make a difference.

Here are some soulful stories and pictures from my travel.

Jitu, the shepard boy

On an early morning in Dhankar, a village in the Spiti valley of the Himalayas, the sun was up behind the misty mountains and the air was crisp, when I met Jitu, a little shepherd boy. The dew drops glistened in the soft sunlight as Jitu tried his best to herd his sheep, while also imitating their sounds.

“Jackie! Sunny!”, called out Jitu. “Who are you calling out to?” I asked. He laughed uncontrollably and said, “I have named my favourite sheep after Bollywood filmstars!” Accompanied by his father each morning, grazing his herd of mountain sheep is a daily chore for Jitu. In Spiti, animals are one of the primary sources of income, as agriculture is scarce at high altitudes.

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Jitu was very quiet and shy, perhaps because his father was with us. Most of my curious questions on their lives were answered by Jitu’s father. But when I asked “What do you want to study?”, Jitu immediately replied saying “I want to be a children’s doctor!” At first I was a little surpised at his specific interest in treating children, but his father read my inquisitve face and said “Jitu’s little brother has polio and cannot walk. In the remote areas of Spiti getting proper treatment is very difficult. It gets worse in winters as most of the villages lose road connectivity and in urgent situations a patient has to be very lucky to be airlifted by the government to reach a hospital. Air rescues are rare. For most people it’s either an ardous journey on foot or a painful wait for months before they can reach the nearest town and see a doctor. I really hope Jitu grows to be a doctor.”

Tanzin, the fledgling photographer of Langza

The unusual sight of a little girl playing with a hoolahoop at a height of 4,400 m above sea level, greeted me as I ambled into Langza village. Langza is a small fairytale like village in Spiti surrounded by the mighty mountains and inhabited by only 30-40 homes. As I searched for the only available homestay named ‘Tanzin homestay’ in the village, I chanced upon Tanzin herself, the girl whose father ran the place.

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Over the next few days I spent a lot of time with her… we walked a lot in the jungles and to far-off villages in search of mushrooms and fossils. Tanzin turned out to be a great guide and knew many interesting spots in her neighbourhood. We spent a day munching on green peas and making sketches while sitting in the fields. During our conversations, I learnt that unlike other children of Spiti, she wants to grow up to be a photographer. “Why do you want to be a photographer?” I asked. “I want to take pictures of clouds when they take different shape- deer, peacock, and mouse sometimes” she responded convincingly. I could see the artist in her… and living in Spiti would definitely be a great place to start shooting. I promised to bring back a camera for her the next time I visited.

The spiritual girls of Morung village

Most girls and women of Spiti lead a difficult life. They are marginalised and bereft of most social and educational opportunities. His Holiness the Dalai Lama, took note of this and started the first religious educational project for Spiti women.

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Sherab Choeling Nunnery is in Morung village. Here, the nuns follow a 17-year study program. The curriculum is designed to educate the nuns in Buddhist philosophy, meditation, the Tibetan language and literature, in addition to basic education in English, Hindi and Math. Girls of different ages, 5 years to teenagehood, live with each other harmoniously. Their day starts early with prayers, followed by classes and extra-curricular activities. The little girls at the nunnery invoked in me a deep respect towards them, as they choose a life of abstinence and spirituality. They seemed happy and content where they are, and have no intention to leave their practice as nuns to get married or start a family. Despite many young girls seeking admission to Sherab Choeling, due to lack of facilities and sponsors, not all gain entrance. Yet, it’s a step forward for the girls of Spiti to realise their most basic rights.

Tashi and his pull car

While I continued to explore Spiti, I found two little children in Demul village playing with a pull-car. With proud smiles on their faces they were showing off their car to me. “Can I take a ride in your car?” I asked Tashi, the little boy sitting on the car. He thought for a long time before responding, “There was an uncle who tried to ride my car but got injured. So you shouldn’t do the same. And your camera might also break.”

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I couldn’t control my laughter at his innocent lie. “ Who got you this car? I asked. “My father got it from Shimla, and the next time he will get a bigger one” he said proudly. “But there are no good roads here for big cars to drive!” I said. “No, we are working on it, soon there will be good roads” he reacted almost instantly.

The little lama of Key Monastery

Sacrifice and abstinence might be the defining features of monastic life, but there are always moments of complete innocence that remind us; children are children no matter where they are, be it in a monastery or in a city.

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I met a little lama boy at the 1,000 year old Key Monastery as he sat on the grass watching the sun drop behind the mountains. Due to his curiosity aroused by my camera equipment, he walked up to me and politely asked me to take a good photo of him. “I would love to!” I exclaimed. “I don’t have a single good picture of me, will you give me a copy also?” he asked. Unfortunately, I was not carrying a printer and told him I would send it to him by post. Delighted and satisfied with my promise he asked me rather innocently, “Can I watch TV on your camera screen, I have a remote”. I smiled and proceeded to explain to him how a camera worked.

The little girl from the fields

Often while strolling in the fields, I met with children and their families. Harvest season made people of the village very busy. One such afternoon, I met a little girI who left a lasting impression on me. When I met her she was taking tea for her family who were picking green peas in the field. We walked together a long way, we climbed rocks and walked through fields before we reached them. She was holding my hand, in her little hand, as if helping me navigate through unknown terrain. Her thoughtful and kind gesture touched me deeply. Soon we joined her family, we chatted and I shared a meal with them in the field, while my little friend hovered around me playfully. While I carried some goodies for her and her siblings, I knew nothing would match the warmth with which this little girl had welcomed me. Soon after, it was time for me to leave them and continue my journey while they got back to their daily routine. But while I walked away I couldn’t help but think what it would be like to meet her many years later. Would she be able to speak to me in Hindi? Would we have a lot to talk about then? Would she change when she grew up? I decided that moment that I would return to meet her with a pretty dress because saying goodbye seemed a lot harder than I had imagined.

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The out-of-school boys of Khibber

As I woke up one morning in Khibber, I noticed 2 boys drawing lines on the road with small pebbles and jumping across their drawings. I decided to approach them with a box of coloured pens that I had carried with me from home. Like most children, I expected them to jump and snatch these coloured pens and continue drawing in every empty space they found. To my dismay they looked uninterested. As I stood there with a confused expression on my face, I saw one of the boy’s mothers walk towards us. It was sheer curiosity that compeled me to ask “Why don’t Tanu and his friends want the coloured pens?” She looked uncomfortable and said “We’re very poor and barely manage to survive. But we’ve been thinking of putting Tanu and his brother in school soon. My husband is a trekker but as the trekking season is short, the money isnt enough for all of us.” I couldn’t help but wonder how many 9 year olds like Tanu were out of school across Spiti and India.

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Tanu, dreaming the Bollywood dream

“Can you take pictures that make me look like a filmstar?”, Tannu asked me expectantly. I happened to bump into her on my way to Langza, when she walked up to me and offered to carry my tripod. She was dressed in jeans, atypical to the the traditional dress code in her village. Although she lived in a remote land, cut off from city stardom, she was as star struck and updated on Bollywood as any other children or teenagers. Being a film buff myself, we talked of our favourite movies, songs and actors, finding a common link in an almost uncommon circumstance. As I took her leave, I invited her to Mumbai, hoping that the city of dreams would make place for her dreams too.

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The little mothers of Lahlung

I met Asha and Manu in a small village called Lahlung, Spiti. Besides being classmates, what they had in common was their responsibility towards their younger siblings. These ‘little mothers’, exposed to early motherhood is the life of most girls in Spiti too. Like elsewhere in India, they too take charge of looking after their siblings, amongst other household chores. I noticed them gossiping and giggling about their friends at school, like most of us did as children. “Do you find babysitting your siblings boring or tiring?”, I asked. “Ha ha ha!”, they burst out laughing, “We tie them on our back and forget about them till they start crying. And most often, they don’t cry too much. They are all happy babies!”, Asha added. While duty came young, the child in both of them was still unscathed.

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Did you have interesting stories from Spiti to share, I would love to hear it?