At Khema Village with Ama Tashi Palmo.

Tashi Palmo, 80, from Khema village, fondly recalls the once-bustling market in the neighboring village of Tangyar, where the men of Khema regularly sourced salt and wool. While Tangyar remained the primary commercial hub, a handful of Changpa traders occasionally journeyed directly to Khema, providing a secondary supply of these vital goods. Among them was a prominent trader, Changpa Namlang, who would stay in the village for around fifteen days during his visits. Among the many goods they brought, the most eagerly awaited by Khema’s women was the rare charu, a luxurious fur garment traditionally worn with the perak, the iconic Ladakhi headdress. Charu was crafted from the soft hide of a young sheep, barely a year old, locally known as Lugu. 

These traders typically camped in two fields on the outskirts of Khema, named, Goma and Langya, particularly in the autumn months when the fields lay fallow. In contrast, summer visits were rare, as there were no open spaces available for encampment; during that season, the Changpas confined their trade to Tangyar. 

Palmo also recalls a time when nearly every household in the region depended on grain loans from wealthy families such as the Katong and Lababs. These loans, typically of barley, were taken for both household consumption and agricultural sowing. Repayment was expected after the autumn harvest. The traditional interest rate, known as del, required the borrower to return one khal (equivalent to 12 kilograms) for every four khals borrowed. Later, through the efforts of the late 19th Bakula Rinpoche, this rate was reduced to one khal per eight khals borrowed, before the practice of charging interest was abolished altogether.

One particularly vivid memory Palmo shares is of a practice involving the seasonal rearing of livestock for Nubra families. Wealthy pastoralists from Nubra, unable to graze their large herds during the summer months, would entrust goats and sheep to trusted families in Khema. From the fourth month of the Ladakhi calendar until autumn, these animals would graze on Khema’s more abundant pastures.

The arrangement was mutually beneficial. The host families in Khema retained the manure, a valuable agricultural resource, while the livestock owners benefited from summer grazing. If a goat produced sufficient milk, the Khema family owed the owner one khal of barley. For lesser yields, the payment was halved. No payment was due for non-milking animals. In cases where an animal died, the caretakers were obliged to prove that the death was genuine and not a case of illicit sale. This verification practice, known as Shindas Stongyas, involved preserving parts of the deceased animal, most often its ears, as evidence.

When Palmo was a child, only three families in Khema participated in this practice. Over time, the number grew to nine, forming a group locally referred to as the Ratcho. Her own family took on the responsibility of rearing as many as 300 goats and sheep from the Labak family of Sumur in Nubra.

The Salt Market of Nubra: Recollections of Aba Sonam Wangchuk of Tangyar.

Aba Sonam Wangchuk, a 76-year-old elder from Tangyar village, belonging to the Tokpopa family, recalls a vital yet now largely forgotten chapter in Ladakh’s trade history.  Till about 40 years ago Tangyar served as a key epicentre for the salt and wool trade supplying the entire Nubra region.

According to Aba Wangchuk, Changpa traders from the highlands south of Rudok would visit Tangyar twice annually. Their first visit, during the fifth month of the Ladakhi lunar calendar, was known as Yartsong, the summer market. The second, more significant visit occurred during the autumn months of September-October, and was known as Stontsong.

The autumn trade was primarily focused on salt, butter, and dried meat, all carried in twin panniers slung across sheep. The Changpa caravans would travel via Durbuk and Reli Chiling, crossing the high Neebula Pass to reach Tangyar. Upon arrival, they were allowed to camp only on the agricultural land owned by the Spituk Labrang. This was a long-standing custom that served dual purposes: it regulated the flow of outside traders, and the presence of large flocks of sheep helped naturally fertilise the monastery's fields. The Labrang, which once housed 3–4 monks, today lies in a dilapidated state.

Aba vividly remembers his friend Sonam Tundup, a trader who would arrive with up to 300 sheep, each laden with salt. The Changpa would pitch their black yak-hair tents on the Labrang land, and the seasonal trade would commence supplying much of Nubra with its annual requirement of salt and other essentials.

In contrast, the Yartsong market in summer focused mainly on the sale of wool, though smaller quantities of salt were also exchanged. Since the agricultural fields were under cultivation, the Changpa would camp in the nearby phu (high pasture). These pastures transformed into vibrant trading hubs during the season. The traders would shear their sheep on site, and sell the freshly shorn wool to villagers from Tangyar and traders from Nubra who made their way up to the phu.

Trade relationships during Yartsong were deeply personal and long-standing. Aba speaks fondly of his trading friends Karma and Sonam Tashi, with whom exchanges were often based on verbal agreements known as lochat or chatka, promises to deliver a fixed quantity of goods by a specified time the following year. These informal contracts were rarely broken, a testament to the ethical fabric of the barter system.

Wool formed a crucial source of income for many families in Tangyar. During the winter months, when wool fetched higher prices in the lower valleys, households would undertake journeys to Nubra. Salt, surplus from the Changpa trade  was often carried along as an additional commodity. Sonam Wangchuk himself recalls traveling to Yarma, passing through Agyam and Tirit on horseback, usually accompanied by two or three helpers. Trade in Nubra was conducted almost entirely on a barter basis, exchanging wool and salt for wheat, peas, and pulses.

Rangdum Monastery.

According to Skarma Tsering (Pic-1) from Abran in Zanskar, he has no family members and has spent most of his life living with the monks at Rangdum Monastery. He recalls that as a young boy, around 8 to 10 years old, he saw Changpa traders visiting Abran to sell salt. Later, he witnessed monks from Rangdum Monastery crossing the Penzila Pass on horseback to reach Zanskar, where they bartered barley for salt from the Changpa traders.

In earlier times, the monastery kept nearly 100 horses, with each monk owning about two. Today, only a single horse remains, a ceremonial animal known as the Gomsta, which is considered sacred to the monastery.

According to Ven. Lobzang Tsetan, aged 85 (Pic-2) a monk from Randum monastery who is the eldest male resident of Rangdum village, most of the monks in the monastery originally came from Zanskar, Lingshed, and Dibling.

The monastery owns agricultural land in Akshow village, Zanskar. In the past, monks would travel annually from Rangdum to Zanskar, collect the barley from Akshow and trade it for salt with the Changpa traders in Abran.

He also recalls the annual visits of traders from Takmachik village in Sham, who would take the now-abandoned route from Kanji passing through with Chuli and Phating to trade it for barley in Zanskar.

Although little agriculture is possible in the vast expanse of Rangdum due to its extreme cold, the region is rich in grasslands and well-suited for livestock grazing.

In the past each year, villagers from Rangdum would take the Kanji La route to Leh to sell surplus butter.

 

Lingshed: Aba Tsering Mutup and Ama Tsering Dolkar.

In the past the natives of Lingshed sourced salt from distant regions, including Zanskar and Skyu Markha. Tsering Mutup, 80 years old, a native of Lingshed himself traveled to Zanskar to procure salt from Changpa traders, who arrived with their stock transported on sheep. In exchange, barley was offered as payment. The mode of transport for these goods involved carrying barley and peas on the back or loading them onto donkeys for the journey. The Changpas set up their camp between Zangla and Padum, where trade was conducted. The standard exchange rate was a woolen sack, known as a lugal, filled with salt in return for an equivalent amount of barley. Mutup distinctly recalls carrying ten battis of barley and returning with an equal amount of salt, all on his back.

These visits to Zanskar always took place in the autumn months, a time when freshly harvested barley was available for exchange—a schedule that aligned with the trading needs of the Changpas. Apart from his travels to Zanskar, Mutup also visited Leh to purchase wool from a Balti merchant, who would temporarily set up shop in the city. This transaction was conducted in cash. His journey to Leh occurred during the winter months when the frozen Zanskar River, known as the Chadar, provided a natural pathway. He would travel with four to five goats, selling them in the Leh market for approximately Rs 30 to 40 per goat. The money earned was then used to purchase wool from the Balti shopkeeper. Any surplus cash was spent on essentials such as butter and chai, with prices during that era recorded at Rs 16 for a batti of chai and Rs 30 for a batti of butter. Mutup was around 17 years old at the time, making these journeys before his marriage.

Every year, traders from Sham Valley villages—including Khlaste, Domkhar, Shyurbuchan, and Kanji—visited Lingshed to sell apricots, apples, rice, and kerosene. Mutup recalls purchasing a bottle of kerosene in exchange for five Bay (a small container) of barley, while salt could be acquired at a rate of three Bay of barley for one Bay of salt. These exchanges formed an integral part of the seasonal trading traditions that sustained communities across the region.

 

Lingshed: Aba Lobzang Tsering.

                                                  

Lobzang Tsering, now 77 years old, recalls stories from his father about the salt trade of earlier times. Elders from his village would carry salt on their backs from Skyu and Kaya villages, where it was purchased from Changpa traders during their annual visits to the Markha valley. In exchange, the people of Lingshed offered peas and barley from their harvests.

Later, Lobzang’s father and his relative, Tsering Angchuk, would walk all the way to Zangla in Zanskar to obtain salt, timing their journey to coincide with the arrival of the Changpa caravans. Lobzang also remembers a relative named Norphel from Pishu village in Zanskar, who used to bring salt to Lingshed in winter and take back peas. Norphel would stay with the family for a few days during his trips. Lobzang was around fifteen at the time.

During the harvest season, traders from the Sham region—particularly from Tingmosgang, Wanla, and Khaltse—would cross the Singge La and Sir Sir La passes to reach Lingshed. They brought wool, salt, kerosene, apricots, and apples to barter for barley, which was much prized. Most of the Sham traders stayed with the Shalang family; others were hosted in cow pens or temporary shelters offered by local households. Their stay would last 10 to 15 days. At the time, there was no road through the Machu valley, where a motorable route is currently under construction.

Barley from Lingshed was in high demand and considered a staple annual ration for many of these traders. Occasionally, traders from Kargil would also visit Lingshed to buy yaks, although yak numbers were limited in the region.

As a young boy, Lobzang once journeyed to Akshow in Zanskar with Ajang Dorjey of the Jorpey family, who was taking yaks for sale. There, Lobzang witnessed Changpa traders in large numbers, camped in tents and conducting trade in salt and wool. These goods were transported on sheep burdened with lugals, the traditional woven carrying sacks. He vividly recalls a striking sight—how the sheep, when tired, would dig shallow depressions in the earth and settle into them in such a way that their loads rested outside the hollow, thereby relieving the weight on their backs.

Lingshed connects to the outside world through several ancient routes. One prominent path leads across Barmi La to Dibling La, and from there to Rangdum. From Rangdum, one can reach Zanskar by crossing Pensi La or continue to Kargil through Parkachik and the Suru Valley. Lobzang himself has traveled these routes, especially when collecting buldut or karlong—donations made for the local gompa, as per longstanding tradition.

Another important route leads from Lingshed toward Nyerak, descending to the frozen Zanskar river—famously known as the Chadar route—which eventually leads to Leh. Lobzang has walked this treacherous winter trail, carrying barley and returning with tea and butter. To afford these goods, villagers sold goats and sheep to Balti traders who visited their village.

Ladakhi Labourers in Nyungti

Tsewang Samphel

Tsewang Samphel, 83, from Shagar village, Zanskar, Ladakh, India, was born into a Ladakh marked by abject poverty and severe shortages of basic essentials. To sustain their livelihoods, many people from Zanskar and other parts of Leh and Kargil undertook seasonal migrations to a place generically referred to by the Zanskari people as Nyungti. Despite extensive inquiries, the exact meaning of the word remains unclear. For the people of Zanskar, Nyungti seemed to encompass areas around Manali and Mandi, and occasionally extended to Shimla and Punjab.

Samphel was around 15 years old, when he first embarked on the journey to Nyungti. This seasonal migration took place before the harsh winters, a time when the extreme cold and heavy snowfall in Zanskar and other parts of Ladakh rendered farming impossible. The milder weather in the plains provided a more hospitable environment and employment opportunities for Ladakhi workers. After completing the harvest and threshing of barley, Samphel, along with fellow villagers, began the arduous trek toward Nyungti via the Shinkula Pass. Unlike labourers from the Suru Valley where such migrations were typically undertaken by men, the Zanskari groups included both men and women. Samphel’s wife Padma Lamo, now 92 years old, was among the many women who worked as labourers in Nyungti. Traveling in groups of 15-20, they often encountered other Zanskari groups making the same journey. The trek to Nyungti, often referring to Manali in this context, typically took 5-6 days. 

Once in Nyungti, the Zanskari men and women worked under various contractors, primarily on road construction projects. Samphel recalls meeting labourers from Leh, both men and women, who likely traveled via the Changthang route to Manali. Among them was Mipham Ringmo, a man from Choglamsar village in Leh, who served as a supervisor in Manali. Mipham played a vital role in helping Ladakhis secure jobs and ensuring they were paid on time. At that time, the daily wage rate was 12 annas (16 annas equaled one rupee). During their 3-4 month stay in Manali, the Ladakhi labourers endured challenging conditions, constructing makeshift shelters known as Sai Tapur or Chini, built from stones and shrubs, which served as their temporary homes.

Padma Lamo

Before returning home in the 1st or 2nd month of the Ladakhi calendar, the labourers from Zanskar followed a unique ritual of stitching new shoes to prepare for the snowy trek across the Shinkula Pass, which partially reopened during this time. The process of shoemaking was a significant event in the lives of Zanskari labourers, requiring both time and effort. Layers of tsalee-bora (nylon sacks) were cut, layered, and stitched together with threads made from the stems of a  local plant called zaa-tchot, resulting in durable, weather-resistant footwear essential for the journey. Once the shoes were ready, the men usually set off first, navigating the snow-laden and treacherous trails, while the women waited for safer travel conditions till the snow cleared fully before beginning their trek. Some Zanskari labourers opted for an alternate route via Paddar in Jammu before making their way back to Zanskar.

Back in Zanskar, once winter passed, two distinct groups of Changpa nomads became integral to the region’s trade network, supplying essential salt. The first group, the Kharnak Changpas, traveled from the northeast along the Junglam trek route, starting from Dat in Kharnak region of Changthang and crossing the Charcharla Pass to enter Zanskar near Zangla. These nomads typically conducted their trade in areas around Zangla and Padum. Occasionally, some of the Kharnak Changpas would travel westward to the Stod region, towards the Pensila Pass, often bypassing Samphel’s village of Shagar and favoring locations such as Akshow. The second group, the Rupshu Changpas, approached Zanskar from the southeast, traveling along the Leh-Himachal highway and turning off before Serchu to enter Zanskar through the Lingti River and Chumik Marpo. They engaged directly with villages along the way and would travel as far as Shagar. Samphel’s family sourced their salt from this group, following the traditional Dzagos (Friend) system of trade partners. Under this arrangement, each Changpa trader was paired with a designated Dzago family in  Zanskar. This family received priority when bartering salt for barley, fostering a reliable and mutually beneficial relationship. Samphel fondly recalls his family’s Dzago, Tsewang Toetoe, who played a pivotal role in maintaining this vital trade connection.

Upon arriving in the village, the Rupshu Changpas would set up camp in a communal field. As part of their custom, they would slaughter a khalpa (male sheep) and share the meat with their Dzago family, reinforcing bonds of trust and mutual respect. This exchange of hospitality was then followed by the bartering of salt for barley. The Changpas typically stayed in the village for 3-4 days, during which they filled their lugal (saddle bags) with barley before embarking on their return journey to Changthang. In addition to salt, the Rupshu Changpas also brought kerosene, a rare and valuable commodity for the Zanskari villagers. They transported small quantities of kerosene in cans strapped to the backs of their sheep. Samphel vividly recalls these exchanges, though he never discovered where the Changpas sourced the kerosene.

Like many of his generation, Samphel traveled for trade to Paddar more than 20 times. Upon reaching Sumcham in Paddar, the Zanskaris would encounter the locals, whom they called Mons. Samphel recalls that the Mons did not understand the Ladakhi language and often greeted them with the phrase Kuru gir dangbhai, which he believes means, “Where are you going?” Samphel often returned with logs of wood, khem (wooden shovels), or chi stey (a local grain) used for making thukpa. While trade generally flowed more from Zanskar to Paddar, traders from Paddar also visited Zanskar, bringing saldang (a bark of a tree used as a tea supplement) , Bal (wool), La-shee ( An oily stick that burned like an incense but used for illumination in the absence of kerosene and electricity),  and butter, which were transported on sheep. Once in Zanskar, these items were exchanged for barley.

Samphel is perhaps one of the last traders to have traversed the legendary frozen Chadar route on the Zanskar River, carrying Zanskari butter to sell in Leh. In his youth, he undertook the arduous journey with 20 battis (1 batti is approximately 2 kg each) of butter strapped to his back, navigating the treacherous ice-covered river. Depending on the ice conditions and water levels, the trek typically took 3 to 4 days. Despite the dangers and challenges of the route, Samphel persisted for many years, sustaining his livelihood through this demanding trade. At the time, he earned a modest Rs. 2 per kilogram of butter, a reflection of the economic realities of the period.

Remarkably, Samphel completed the Chadar trek for the last time at the age of 70. By then, his sons had settled in Leh, and his journey had shifted from being a commercial venture to a personal one. Although he still carried a small quantity of butter, his primary purpose was to spend the winter with his son at his home in Pela in Thiksey village. This last trek, much like his final journey to Nyungti, symbolized the closing of a chapter in Samphel’s life and the gradual disappearance of the historic trade practices of the Zanskari people along the frozen Zanskar River. It was not merely the end of his personal endeavours but also a sad farewell to a way of life that had sustained generations in the harsh landscapes of Zanskar. 

Nurbu Tashi

Nurbu Tashi, 85, from Sani village in Zanskar, vividly recalled his first journey to Paddar at the age of 25. The route through the Omasila Pass was notorious for heavy snowfall, making the journey perilous. Nurbu and his companions carried ropes to navigate the crevasses and cliffs that dotted the path. Safety was a collective effort; after crossing a difficult section, one person would signal the others to follow. Yet accidents were not uncommon. Nurbu recounted a harrowing moment when his friend, Urgain Tsering, fell into a crevasse. With quick thinking and teamwork, they managed to pull him out using a rope. 

In Zanskar, wood was a scarce resource, with Shila being one of the few places where it grew locally. To meet the community's needs, Nurbu and others frequently made the arduous journey to Paddar. On each trip, Nurbu typically brought back five logs of wood, carrying them on his back along with Khem ( wooden shovels) and  chib-tsay (a local grain) through treacherous terrain. In Paddar they were often treated to takur, a buckwheat bread popular in the region, a gesture of hospitality that Nurbu remembered fondly. In Zanskar Nurbu sold khem, which he purchased for five rupees, for ten rupees, doubling his investment and supporting his livelihood. Beyond wood and tools, Nurbu also traded for other scarce items. Due to severe winters and heavy snowfall, Zanskar historically had limited grazing grounds, which resulted in fewer livestock and, consequently, less wool production. This scarcity made Nurbu and friends buy wool from Gujjars in Paddar, a vital resource in Zanskar’s harsh winters. Additionally, he brought back butter, another item in short supply in Zanskar, further diversifying the goods he transported. These journeys were not just trade expeditions but a lifeline for Zanskaris, bridging the gap between their isolated valley and the resources they needed to survive.

The Changpa traders who visited Zanskar not only supplied salt but also brought soda and wool. While the soda was a crucial ingredient for making Ladakhi butter tea, the additional wool brought by the Changpas, supplementing supplies from Paddar, was indispensable for enduring Zanskar's long and harsh winters. Nurbu observed that the Kharnak Changpas typically arrived during autumn, while the Rupshu Changpas visited in the summer. When asked about the availability of surplus barley for trade during the summer, Nurbu confirmed that the Zanskaris had sufficient barley to  exchange with the nomads.

Like Samphel, Nurbu Tashi also traveled to Nyungti during winters to find work. After the autumn harvest and threshing were completed, Nurbu and his friends prepared for the journey. Groups of 30 to 40 men and women from each village would set out on foot, crossing the Shinkula Pass after which vehicles were available to carry them further. The wage rate at the time was about 2 to 4 annas a day. Every year, Nurbu and friends began their journey in the ninth month of the Ladakhi calendar before the Shinkula closed due to heavy snowfall and returned by the second month of the following year when the Shinkula Pass became partially accessible again. Nurbu, like other male members, recounted his experience of preparing special shoes for the return journey. Using pieces of nylon sacks readily available in Nyungti, they stitched together durable footwear that, according to Nurbu, was “better than leather.” These shoes made a distinctive “chorob-chorob” sound when walking on snow. The journey back was often tougher, as snow had yet to clear near Shinkula, making movement difficult. Men traveled ahead of the women and often faced the challenge of sleeping in the open, sometimes on snow. However, the experienced Zanskaris were well-prepared with warm clothing, their sturdy shoes, and kholak (barley-based food) to sustain them.

Tundup Gyaltsan

Tundup Gyaltsan, 86, is the oldest resident of Pipcha, a remote village near the renowned Bardan Monastery in Zanskar. A man of many talents, Tundup mastered carpentry, masonry, and tailoring, all of which he learned from his father. However, his greatest passion has always been playing the surna, a traditional  Ladakhi wind instrument that looks like a Shehnai. As a young man, Tundup often accompanied his father to various villages in Zanskar, where his father was invited to play the surna. Inspired, Tundup began playing the instrument at the age of 18 and has continued ever since. At the time of the interview, he was eagerly preparing for three upcoming weddings in the area, where he had been invited to perform. To preserve this tradition, Tundup has trained two surna players—one in Pipcha and another in Mune village—ensuring that this rich cultural heritage lives on.

In Tundup’s youth, the field called Teeyul in Pipcha was a popular campsite for Changpa nomads who traveled with sheep carrying salt in saddle bags known as lugals. For many years, Tundup worked on this land, which he had leased from the Bardan Monastery. Later in life, when he could afford to buy land elsewhere, he returned the field to the monastery. Today, the monastery uses it to run a school for the village children. Tundup recalls the sharp negotiation skills of the Changpa traders. Although their lugals were only half-filled with salt, they ensured the lugals they received in exchange were packed tightly with barley. Using a special needle called the gyabda, they stitched the bags to maximize the barley load. Tundup’s designated dzago (trade partner) was Jorgey, a distant relative by marriage. Jorgey followed what is now the Leh-Himachal highway, entering Zanskar through Chunkaro and Lingti to reach Pipcha. Tundup confirmed that the Changpas visited twice a year—once in the 4th or 5th month and again in the 9th month. Their visits ceased when the government began supplying salt through the public distribution system. 

Besides his multitasking professions, Tundup also traveled to Paddar with his friends to bring back cattle, which he sold in Zanskar. Each person typically brought back two to three cattle, purchased for Rs. 100 each. While Tundup would keep the younger cattle for his own use, the older ones, which were no longer useful in the fields, were sold for Rs. 600. Tundup fondly remembers the Khawaja's of Padum, who were his regular and trusted customers.

Like Samphel and Nurbu Tashi, Tundup also traveled to Nyungti for labor during the winters. This practice was common in Pipcha, with young men and women leaving for work while elders stayed behind to care for children and livestock. Tundup began this migration at 16 and continued until he was 40. The return journey from Nyungti was marked by the tradition of making new shoes. According to Tundup, Zanskaris used a plant called zaatchot to create threads for the shoes. They peeled the stems of the plant, which became strong and durable when twisted, and used it to stitch together layers of tsalee-bora (nylon sacks). The sole was made by layering the sack material to the desired size and thickness, while the upper part of the shoe was crafted from namboo cloth. These handmade boots were designed to protect the wearer’s feet from snow, making the trek back through the Shinkula Pass during the 1st and 2nd months of the Ladakhi calendar more bearable.

While the tradition of seasonal migration among Ladakhi labourers had existed for generations, it gained unprecedented momentum after India's independence in 1947. The launch of large-scale development projects, particularly in the construction of roads, bridges, and other critical infrastructure, created a significant demand for labour in North India. Ladakhi labourers, especially from Zanskar,  and the Suru Valley, became an indispensable part of this workforce.

The story of Tsewang Samphel, Padma Lamo, Nurbu Tashi, and Tundup Gyaltsen represents the untold narrative of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of silent Ladakhi men and women who played a crucial role in building infrastructure across northern India in the years following India's independence. During the harsh winters of the mid-20th century, these labourers embarked on mass migrations to regions such as Manali, Shimla, Punjab, Dehradun, and Chakrata. Yet the story of their struggle and  their invaluable role in these infrastructure projects, a vital chapter of modern Ladakhi history  remains largely undocumented.

-The author extends sincere gratitude to the Honorable Councillor of Karsha, Stanzin Jigmath le for making this visit possible.

Trade routes of Zanskar

Namgyal Dorjey

In the past, the Zanskar region of Ladakh, India, remained isolated from the outside world during the winter months due to heavy snowfall. The Chadar trek through the frozen Zanskar river, which connects Zanskar to the Indus Valley, was the only popular winter route. However, during the summer, it was connected to surrounding areas through a network of passes from all directions. From the west, the Pensila Pass leads to the Suru Valley, where the road further diverges either to the Warwan Valley in Kashmir or to Drass through the Umba La Pass, or to Kargil District.  The southeastern Shinkula Pass leads to Darcha and Himachal Pradesh, while in the northeast, the Zunglam/Jumglam route through the Charcharla Pass was historically the most significant, leading to Dat in Kharnak Changthang or further to the Markha Valley. In the south, three main passes—Omasila, Akshow via Hangshula, and one near Bardang passing through Poat La Pass and Kangla Pass —connect Zanskar to other regions of Kishtwar. Namgyal Dorjey, 55 years, from Ating village, Zanskar, is one of the few people who have traversed nearly all of these passes.

Namgyal's journey across these passes began around the age of 18 when he accompanied his father on treks to Paddar in the Kishtwar district of Jammu and Kashmir. Paddar, which lies south of the Zanskar mountain range, is known for its rich vegetation and abundance of wood. At that time, it was common for the people of Zanskar to barter peas grown in their region for various goods from Paddar. Wood, wool, Shing Khem (wooden shovels), Saldang (a bark used as a tea supplement), butter, rice, and Kangshil Tsotma or Lingdi, a vegetable the Himachalis used to make pickles were the popular commodities traders from Zanskar brought from Paddar. Namgyal's father would return from Paddar with dried Lingdi, which they would later soak in water, mix with milk, and cook as a vegetable. The Zanskaris also brought back Tau seeds (likely buckwheat) from Paddar, which they cultivated in Zanskar. According to Namgyal, the plant is believed to have cancer-fighting properties and is easy to digest, allowing one to eat it and immediately return to work.

With its frigid climate and sparse vegetation, Zanskar relied heavily on Paddar as a primary supplier of different kinds of wood for much of its history. According to Namgyal, Kero Shing was the most prized wood of all. Although not very thick, it was extremely strong. In Zanskar, it was commonly used for making window frames because its strength allowed them to maintain their shape for a very long time. Namgyal’s father once took four of his seven sons to Paddar, and on their return to Zanskar, each son carried seven logs of Kero wood.  Another type of wood, Stakpa, known for its durability, was used to craft a part of the wooden plough called Shol. The Dungma, or Yulat, was used in the construction of the Makdum/Bheem of a room. A less sought-after variety, called Raydung in Paddar, was primarily used as Talu during roof construction in Zanskar. However, in Paddar, Raydung was not valued highly and was often used as firewood. Som—known as Keylong Shing in Paddar—was used to make Khem (wooden shovels). Namgyal explained that Som wood is thicker and softer than any wood available locally in Zanskar, making it ideal for crafting single-piece, wider Khem, which are more effective for fieldwork. This was not possible with the limited amount of narrow wood commonly found in Zanskar. Additionally, Som wood is much easier to cut—"like butter," as Namgyal described it.

Namgyal observed that Zanskar's sparse vegetation also led to limited grazing areas and, consequently, fewer livestock. This scarcity of livestock caused a shortage of wool for clothing in the region. As a result, people in the Stod region of Zanskar relied on wool, or Bal, from Paddar, known for its high quality and was used directly to prepare garments without any mixing. While the Changpa traders are recorded to have carried Bal for trade in Zanskar, it’s possible that by the time they reached Ating and other villages at the end of their trade route, they had already exhausted their supply of Bal. This situation would have made the villages in the Stod region more dependent on wool from Paddar.

Before the 1990s, the trade routes used by the people of Zanskar were popular among foreign tourists for trekking, and Nawang, like many men from Zanskar and other parts of Ladakh, found lucrative opportunities to earn extra income as a tourist guide along these routes. However, it has been 15 years since Namgyal last traveled these routes, either for trade or as a tourist guide.

The most popular route from Zanskar to Paddar was via the Omasila Pass. Namgyal would trek from Ating to a location called Gowra, where they would spend the night at Kanju Pulu before making the crossing. In 1981-82, Namgyal's father and uncle constructed a shelter there, which had three rooms—two featuring Dungma roofs and one made entirely of stone. After Gowra, some travelers would stop at a place called Rooa, while others continued on to Kache Phangsa, known for its expansive snow-covered plains called Chashee Thang. More experienced trekkers could go directly from Kanju Pulu to Sumcham, the first inhabited village in Paddar. Namgyal recounts a surprising incident when his father crossed the Omasila to reach Paddar and returned to Ating on the same day.

Namgyal has also traveled from Akshow village through Hangshula Pass to Sumcham in Paddar, a challenging path with no proper trail, according to Namgyal it was- only ice at the bottom and pebbles on top. This route was tough and slow, taking five to six days. The ground was so tough that Namgyal and his fellow traveler Thinley's shoes tore before they could reach Paddar. While there are fewer climbs on this route than on the Omasila Pass, there is a lot of ice to scale. In contrast, the trek before the Omasila Pass from Zanskar is relatively plain, while the trek after the pass is snowy. On the Akshow side, there is ice on one side and relatively plain towards Paddar.

Thirty years ago, Namgyal also traversed the Kang La Pass route to Paddar, originating from a place near the Bardan Gompa. Along with a trekker named Maymay Rigzin and another friend, he covered the route, which was very long and full of glaciers. On the third day, they encountered a glacier, which according to Namgyal, was as long as the distance from 'Ating to Padum', a site where they slept on the icy glacier for the night. In the extreme cold of the night, Namgyal and friends could hear the ice cracking beneath them. The other side, after crossing the glacier and the Kangla Pass, was very beautiful with a long slope, making it the most beautiful of the three popular routes leading to Paddar. On the fourth day, they reached the temporary shelters of Gaddi nomads called Dangsa and then at a place called Pattenam-Sattenam in Udaipur, in Kistwar district of Jammu and Kashmir, which had lots of Shukpa (Juniper) growing. According to Namgyal, at the end of the trek at Udaipur, he met some tourists who wanted a guide through Shinkula Pass, so he took that as a return route to Zanskar.

Namgyal mentioned a fourth route from Zanskar to Paddar, which is the least used of all the known routes. It is occasionally utilized by the Zanskaris to purchase Palang (cattle) from Paddar, though he has never trekked along it himself. According to trekking maps of Zanskar, this route starts at a location called Paddar Lungpa near Sani village in Zanskar, crosses the Munni La Pass, and then connects with the Omasila Pass route at a place called Bagjan, eventually leading to Sumcham in Paddar.

Towards the northeast, Namgyal took the Junglam route from Zanskar, crossing Chacharla Pass near Zangla village and eventually reaching Markha valley. On the first day, they camped at the base of Charcharla. The trek itself lasted about five days. After crossing Charcharla on the second day, they arrived at Standongsa, a location that requires careful navigation, as a wrong choice between left and right can lead to confusion. The correct path is to the left, which is more open. Further along, they reached Chanchu Sumdo, another spot where the route can be confusing. After reaching Markha village, some travelers continued to Spituk village via the Gandala Pass, while Namgyal took a vehicle from Chilling village back to Leh.

Among the many passes in the region, the Junglam in the northeast and a series of passes in the southeast served as key routes for the Changpa nomads, who visited Zanskar to trade salt. The nomads would arrive in Ating right after the harvest season, and settle in a plain area in the village called Toksham near where a school stands today. The Changpas followed an age-old tradition of slaughtering a male sheep on the first night of their visit and inviting all families for a feast to symbolize their arrival. The trading of salt would begin the following day. The Zanskaris had a relationship called dZagos or friendship with known Changpa nomads, and the Changpa dZagos would prioritize trading with their Zanskari counterparts. Every year, a Changpa named Mutup, who was Namgyal's family dZago would visit them with their annual supply of salt. The exchange rate was two Lugals of salt for four Lugals of barley.

Until recent times, Zanskar was renowned for its native horses, which are now rare across the region. According to Namgyal, these famed Zanskari horses were categorized by their color and the quality of their ride. Based on color, the classifications included black, white, blue, Tomar, Shau (a mix of Tomar and black), and Nyangpa, which had two subtypes: Nyangkar and Nyangmar. The best riding horses are known as Yorga. There are two varieties of Yorga: the Zyangyor, which had a smooth ride but ran very fast and required a skilled rider, and the Lugyar, which was slower but offered the best ride quality. Horses gave birth at the age of four to five years; some gave birth every year, while others did so every alternate year. The age of a horse in Zanskar was measured in years, known as Killings. A horse could live up to 30 killings, though the origin of this term is unclear.

In the past, Zanskar had a tradition of Zyon-lop trainers who specialized in training non-Yorga horses to correct their gait and achieve a smooth motion, a process known as Yorga Lapches. The trainer would ride the young horse and gradually slow its steps, repeating this exercise over many days until the smooth gait became second nature. If the process was rushed, the horse would revert to its original gait. This training typically occurred when the horse was less than two years old (Choba); beyond that age, it became more challenging to train them. According to Namgyal, Meme Nawang and Tsering Dorjee, a retired soldier, were both well-known Zyon-lop trainers in Ating. Training sessions were always held during Ston (autumn) when the fields were empty, and the trainers provided their services pro bono.

Namgyal also practiced a popular tradition for horses known as Turchet. Under this practice, the owner of a pregnant horse would temporarily hand over the horse to a caretaker. The caretaker was responsible for taking care of the horse until it gave birth. Once the foal was born, the horse would be returned to its original owner, while the caretaker would keep the foal as compensation for their efforts. Namgyal regularly practiced this tradition in collaboration with the Rangdum Monastery. He would take care of the pregnant horses from the monastery, and in return, he was allowed to keep the foals as his service charge.

Besides the horses, until about twenty years ago, Zanskar was home to many donkeys, but their numbers have since diminished. Namgyal observes that, unlike horses, donkeys show little variation in performance or market value, though they can be distinguished by their color and size—large or small, black or gray. Additionally, donkeys are categorized by the appearance of their noses and snouts, with two specific types known as Kha Nakpo and Kha Karpo. The decline in donkey populations can be attributed partly to the increasing use of vehicles for transportation and labor, which have replaced the donkeys previously employed for these tasks. Additionally, there has been a significant surge in demand for donkeys over the last ten years, as many donkeys have been purchased from Zanskar by contractors in the Kargil region for government construction projects. According to Namgyal another contributing factor, though not the main reason, has been attacks by Brown bears, which pose a threat to the remaining donkey population, most of which are left unattended in the open.

Ating village is also known for producing high-quality butter. It seems that the popularity of Zanskari butter is a relatively recent phenomenon as in the past Namgyal's father like many in Zanskar used to source butter from Paddar. As mentioned, Zanskar, which was much colder in the past, had fewer grazing sites and therefore less livestock and less butter production. According to Namgyal, the best butter in Zanskar comes from Ralakung village in Stod region. Other places known for good-quality butter are Paldar Lungpa and Rangdum. Namgyal has visited these areas with an Amchi: Traditional Medicine-man, who would come to Zanskar every year to source Man-saa, the medicinal plants for his medicines. The cattle feed on these medicinal plants, which is believed to contribute to the fine quality of Zanskari butter.

Zanskar to Paddar, Salt, Horses and Butter

Sonam Phunsog

Sonam Phunsog, 68, from the Changmachan family in Akshow village, Zanskar, Ladakh, is one of the most experienced travelers in the Zanskar Valley. His father, Tundup Stanzin, mentored him in the skills of long-distance travel. In his youth, Tundup would journey to Paddar in the Kishtwar district of Jammu and Kashmir, transporting Changthang salt—obtained by exchanging barley in Zanskar—to trade for rice and wheat. The people of Zanskar have long-standing ties with Paddar, and Sonam has an aunt married to a man in Losan, Paddar, where she has five daughters, all of whom are married within the region.

Wood, Shovels and Zongba from Paddar

At 14, Sonam embarked on his first journey to Paddar with his father, traversing the Hangshula pass route to reach Sumcham, the first inhabited village in Paddar. During that time, wood was scarce in Zanskar, with only a place called Yaga having some Talu (narrow wood). Sonam continued traveling to Paddar,  always travelling in groups from Akshow, sometimes comprising over 30 men. In Paddar, Sonam acquired Dungma (wood logs), Khem (wooden shovels), and Palang (cattle). Business in Paddar was difficult due to local police objections to transporting wood and other goods. According to Sonam, to overcome this, Zanskari traders enlisted the help of the Chukpo (wealthy individual) of Paddar, who managed the police on their behalf. In return, each Zanskari was expected to bring shing khuru-a large log of wood, as a gift for the Chukpo. The Chukpo often provided accommodation and food. Once the wood was delivered to the Chukpo, traders could freely conduct their business and leave Paddar without police interference. Logs were typically 4-5 feet long; older men carried four logs, while younger men carried two. Khem, or wooden shovels, were popular items, with strong individuals able to carry up to 20 Khems back to Zanskar. Each Khem cost 5 Muls or Rs 5, and a log of wood was valued at one Mul or one Rupee. At 14, Sonam carried two Khems and one Zongba, a wooden tray used for cleaning wool. Back in Akshow, while the wealthy owned their own Zongbas, the less fortunate borrowed those of the wealthy. Then there were the professional who would visit the villagers at  their home and clean the wool charging Rs 5 or two Marnaks ( bottle of cooking oil) for the service. Today, wool cleaning costs Rs 1000. 

In Zanskar, Sonam used the wood from Paddar for repairing old buildings and roofing new ones, while selling the Khems to Balti traders entering Zanskar from Pensila. Khems purchased in Paddar for Rs 5 were sold for Rs 10 to the Baltis. The Baltis, numbering around 14-15, traveled throughout Zanskar to Padum, selling horses, rice, chickens, and cattle. They also came from Damna, Kashmir, through the Chilong Valley near Panikhar, bringing cows to exchange for sheep and money. They were followed by Shamma traders from Tingmosgang, Nurla, and other places in the Sham region, who brought 30-35 donkeys loaded with kerosene in jerrycans. The Shamma traders would charge separately for the empty jerrycans.

Changpa Salt traders

During the 8th or 9th month of the Ladakhi calendar, the Changpas would visit Zanskar. Sonam vividly remembers the arrival of the Changpas. They would set up in a large field at the edge of the village and begin an age-old tradition of killing a big male sheep, Khalpa, presenting the meat to every family as a gift and announcement of their arrival. Only after this ritual would the Changpas start selling salt to the Zanskaris. The exchange rate was one Lugal (a bag used to load salt on sheep) of salt for an equal quantity of barley, whereas in central Zanskar, the rate was double—half a Lugal of salt for a full Lugal of barley.

For the Changpas entering Ladakh from the Zunglam crossing the Chacharla and from Lingti River crossing the Chumik Marpo, Akshow was the last point in Zanskar. For the Baltis entering from the west side, Padum was the last point where their goods would be sold. A popular saying in Zanskar reflects this: Akshow and Abran is the place for distress sales for the Changpas, while Padum is the place for distress sales for the Baltis.

Zanskari Horses

Sonam also notes that, until a decade ago, horses were a crucial part of Zanskari life. Every family in Akshow owned 2-3 horses, but now only his and his brother's families have horses. Zanskari and Spiti horses were highly valued, with Spiti horses being particularly prized. People from Akshow would travel with their horses to Kargil and return in 25 days with rice, salt, marnak, samar (kerosene oil), and pakpey (wheat flour). Sonam traveled on horseback to Sankoo to buy sarnak, samar, das (rice), and pakpey for the winter. Fifty years ago, a winter purchase of Mul 100 (Rs 100) was considered very good. The best Zanskari horses, known as Yorga, were prized for their smooth ride. Sonam’s brother recently sold a two-year-old Yorga for Rs 50,000 to a Kashmiri from Warwan. Yorga horses are now scarce in Zanskar, and the tradition of training horses to improve their gait has nearly vanished. According to Aba, traditionally, the best horses in Zanskar came from the Yulsum area near Karsha Gompa. Friends from Yulsum would graze their horses in the Stod region near Akshow due to its superior grazing grounds.

Zanskari Butter

The Stod region of Zanskar, is renowned for its high-quality Zanskari butter. It is believed that it owes its special taste to a variety of herbs in the region that the cattle feed on. According to Sonam, the best butter comes from dzomo (a mix of yak and domestic cattle). A dzomo yields about 1.5 to 2 liters of milk per day. Producing one liter of Zanskari butter requires about 10 liters of dzomo milk. In the past, Shamma traders visiting Zanskar to sell kerosene would exchange a jerrycan of kerosene for 3 kilos of butter. The money value of butter was Rs 33 per batti (2 kilos). Sonam’s father had a Shamma trader friend who would buy their butter for Rs 37 per batti. With the proceeds, Sonam would go to Kargil to buy food items.

Sonam's Yorga Horse

Yorga horse, Video courtesy of Stanzin Rabga, Reijing, Zanskar 

The Salt Route : Lamayuru to Tibet and Baltistan.

 

Sonam Stobdan

95-year-old Sonam Stobdan, from the Shutupa family in Lamayuru village in Ladakh, India, has spent many years of his life trading in and out of remote places, both within and outside Ladakh. His travels were carefully timed to coincide with the Hemis Tsechu festival, after which he would start his journey to Changthang or Tibet. In his youth, Sonam journeyed to Rudok, which he called Roochey Thog, and Gertse in Tibet with his herd of 8-10 donkeys, carrying goods such as barley, turnips, chuli, and phating from Ladakh. These items were highly valued by the natives of Tibet, and in exchange, he would receive bal, lena, and khullu.

Upon arriving in Gertse, Sonam would meet with the Gertse Spon, the local community leader, to gain permission to set up camp, often staying there for nearly a month.  He would set up his tent a little way away from the Changpas, respecting their privacy. He spent about a month, interacting with the Changpas, who lived in tents scattered across Gertse and the surrounding Lungpas and collected his stock of bal from them. Unlike modern trade, goods were often measured by volume rather than weight. In rare cases, he would use the traditional balance called the Nyaga. The exchange rate for goods varied, and he often received more bal, as barley was considered a rare commodity by the Changpas. In addition to bal, Sonam would also purchase sheep to carry the extra load, with each sheep able to carry two Batis of goods.

Sonam is one of the few remaining individuals in Ladakh who remembers the once-thriving salt markets of Sakti-Chemrey. He recalls how the Changpa salt traders would set up large markets in these areas, where thousands of sheep laden with salt would gather for days. Traders from the Sham region, particularly from villages above Bodh Kharbu (towards Khalste), would come to these markets to exchange Nas (barley) for the salt, which the Changpas brought from the salt fields of Lake Mingdum Tsaka in Tibet. Salt was traded for barley using a ratio of 4:5—four parts salt for five parts barley—with measurements typically done in Pao units (½ Pao, 1 Pao, with 4 Paos equaling 1 Seer, and 8 Paos equaling 1 Batti). After returning to Lamayuru and resting briefly, Sonam would travel to Kargil to sell the salt, often doubling his investment.

Sonam also made two memorable trips to Skardu and Shigar with his father. The journey from Kargil to Skardu took about eight days, passing through Olding, Sermik, and Gol. In Shigar, they camped near a sacred site associated with Guru Rinpoche. From Skardu, they purchased goods like Basho, Osay, and Phating, in exchange for salt and Bal. The Baltis, who were particularly fond of salt, would eagerly trade for it, often expressing their delight with the phrase Acho Bodh Leptok when they reached Shigar. To show their excitement upon seeing the precious salt, the Baltis would often take a handful of it and swallow it.

Reflecting on the past, Sonam also recalls the challenging days when the revenue department imposed taxes on the villagers in the form of Jins and Bhaps . They were also taxed for their goats, which had to be paid in the form of Ra-bhabs. While nearby villages like Dah, Hanu, and Bema would submit their Jins at Lamayuru, the people of Lamayuru were required to travel to Saspol twice a year to pay their dues.

Sonam has particularly unpleasant memories of the lower-level Ladakhi revenue officials, especially a notorious Chaprasi named Stanzin Ldawa (name changed), who, about 60 years ago, would visit the village with a whip, harshly treating the poor villagers. There was a Dak Bungalow in the village where the Hakims would rest, and the villagers were often forced to provide them with eggs, chicken, and goat. The villagers were also subjected to the Begar or Res system, where they were required to carry government loads from Lamayuru to Khalste or Bodh Kharbu for free. At times, they even had to carry a Palki, a four-man carriage, in which the officials’ families traveled. Any misstep would result in a whipping from the accompanying staff. Sonam, being a horse owner, was spared from carrying the loads himself, as he could offer his horse instead. However, those without horses, known as Miskyang, had to carry the burdens on their own backs.

In certain years, during autumn, when there was a scarcity of fodder for the donkeys, he would journey as far as Suru Karstey in Suru valley for grass and Phukma, a practice known as Phuktso.