There’s a pre- and post-Ladakh version of myself. I’m forever changed by what I have learned from its topography, its people and its history. I have a deeper understanding of what it means to be sustainable, why it is important to preserve age-old techniques and traditions as a way of life, and how all of this forms the language of the aesthetic of a particular region.
On an eight-day Pashmina Trail (organised by Shoba George of The Extra Mile, and Mantra Himalaya) last month, I witnessed how palpable nature’s influence is on every aspect of life in this mountainous region: be it the pursuit of agriculture that’s limited to a mere four months of the year or the locally-sourced materials used in construction.
Old Ladakhi structures are juxtaposed with newer ones that continue to borrow techniques from the past. Poplar wood, for instance, still finds its purpose as insulation between roof slabs in monasteries and homes. The distinctive technique of building with thick rammed earth walls endures, preserving the wisdom of storing heat during the day and slowly releasing it at night. Even the size of the doors hold meaning — low doorways encourage humility and respect, inviting visitors to bow before entering.
